A folk ballad urging parents to raise children in grace and love, then release them in trust to God’s care when the sea calls them away.
If we were to gather Tim Keller and J.R.R. Tolkien in the same warm room, perhaps beside a fire, and ask them about parenting—especially the transition when children leave home—I think their counsel would mingle grace, realism, and a kind of deep, bittersweet hope.
Keller’s Voice: Parenting as Gospel Formation
Keller would likely remind us that parenting isn’t about producing successful children as the world defines it, but about being faithful in love as God defines it. He might say:
“The goal is not control, but Christlikeness—both in them and in you. Parenting is one of God’s primary tools to refine you, not just your children. It exposes your idols: your need for approval, control, success, or security. God uses your children’s independence to remind you that you were never sovereign over them in the first place.”
For parents with children about to leave home, Keller would stress gospel rest:
You were never the savior of your child.
The real story of their life will be written by God, not you.
You’re called to love without strings attached, just as the Father loved you when you were running your own way.
He might even point to the parable of the Prodigal Son—not to warn that every child will go astray, but to show that whether they stay close or wander far, the parent’s calling is the same: to keep the welcome light burning.
Tolkien’s Voice: Parenting as Stewardship of Souls
Tolkien would approach it from the angle of story and exile. He believed that all good stories are echoes of the Great Story, and parenting is a role in that unfolding narrative. He might say:
“You are not the author of your child’s story, but you have been entrusted with the opening chapters. You plant seeds you may never see bloom. You teach them songs you may not hear them sing until long after you are gone.”
Tolkien would remind young parents that the home is a Shire—a place of rootedness, memory, and belonging. But every child must eventually set sail from the Grey Havens. That departure is not a failure; it’s the fulfillment of the journey.
He would also caution that letting go is part of love’s nature:
“To clutch too tightly is to keep them from their quest. To release them is to trust the One who called them forth from the beginning.”
When the Nest Empties: The Harder and Holier Work
Here’s where their voices might blend: once children leave home, parenting does not end—it changes shape. It becomes less about guiding their hands and more about guarding their hearts in prayer.
It is harder because:
You can no longer correct in the moment; you must trust their character.
You must accept that they will make choices you would not make.
You carry the ache of absence alongside the joy of their growth.
It is more rewarding because:
You begin to see glimpses of the harvest from seeds sown in tears.
They sometimes seek your counsel as an equal, not just a dependent.
You witness God’s work in their life in ways you could not orchestrate.
Advice for Young Parents
Build the Shire, not a fortress. Make your home a place of warmth and truth, not fear and over-control.
Model repentance, not perfection. Your humility in admitting wrong will preach louder than your rules.
Anchor their hearts in grace. Let them see that your love is not performance-based.
Advice for Parents of Those About to Leave
Bless their journey. Speak words of hope and identity over them before they go.
Release them to God daily. Trust that He writes better endings than you can.
Stay faithfully present. Not intrusive, but available—like the Father in the parable, watching the road.
If Keller and Tolkien could give one joint benediction to parents, it might be:
“You were never meant to keep your children; you were meant to send them. Love them deeply, release them freely, and trust the Author to weave their story into His Great Tale. And remember—like all good tales—it may have chapters of sorrow, but it will end in joy.”
The Shire and the Sea |
Lyrics
Verse 1
You’ve been given the start of a story,
Just a few of the early pages to write,
With small feet running through morning glory,
And soft prayers whispered in the night.
The goal’s not a crown or a kingdom of clover,
Not a life where the road’s always kind,
But a heart that knows when the journey’s over,
It was loved—come rain or shine.
Chorus
Build a home where mercy gathers,
Sing grace by the fireside glow,
Let them see that your love won’t vanish
When it’s time for them to go.
For the sea will call your children,
And the sails will catch the breeze—
But the Lord who walked beside them here
Will walk them ‘cross the seas.
Verse 2
You can’t be the captain forever,
You can’t still the storm with your hand,
But you can teach the song that they’ll sing together
When they reach some far-off land.
Repent quick when your temper’s burning,
Forgive when the tears still sting,
For the grace they see in your own returning
Will guide them through anything.
Chorus
Hold a space where love is sovereign,
Sing grace by the fireside glow,
Let them see that your love won’t vanish
When it’s time for them to go.
For the sea will call your children,
And the sails will catch the breeze—
But the Lord who walked beside them here
Will walk them ‘cross the seas.
Bridge
Release them to the One who holds
The ending none can see,
Trust the Author of the Great Tale,
Whose joy is our destiny.
When the tale turns dark, let your lantern burn,
And your prayers be their guiding star,
For home’s not lost to the child who learns
That God is where we are.
Final Chorus
So build the Shire in your kitchen,
Sing grace by the fireside glow,
Let them know the road’s still open
If their heart longs to come home.
For the sea will call your children,
And the sails will catch the breeze—
But the Lord who walked beside them here
Will walk them ‘cross the seas.
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