“Fine.”

Sometimes I wonder if that’s the response that Adam got from Cain when he asked him throughout his life, “So how was your day, son?” I can almost see in my mind Abraham, at over 100 years old, walking into the tent, laying down his cane, and saying the same thing to Isaac, “So, my boy, my great hope, my promise from God… How was your day?”

“Fine.”

The spirit behind the question is good. We care about each other in our families, and one of the ways we do is by engaging each other in discussion. Talking and listening, giving and receiving. The spirit is right, and it’s certainly better than the alternative of not asking any question at all and instead every family member just being absorbed in their own stuff, even when they’re all together.

But even if the spirit is right, perhaps the question is wrong. And there are good reasons to believe this to be true:

1. It’s not specific enough.

“How was your day” is the textbook general question. And general questions generally receive general answers. When we ask a question like this, we are putting the responsibility on our children to volunteer difficult information rather than taking the burden on ourselves to know enough about what’s happening in their lives to ask them about that life in a more specific way. In other words, a specific question is a small way of dying to ourselves.

Instead of the general question, ask about specific relationships. Ask about tests. Ask about what you talked about the previous night. We want to show our kids not only that we care, but that we actually remember. But to do that, we have to listen, and then bring up what’s been talked about before. Which is, in truth, easier said than done, especially since we are already preoccupied with how our own days went. But again, here we have a small opportunity to die to ourselves for the sake of our kids.

2. It’s not hard enough.

“How was your day?” is an easy question. And an easy question asked is an easy question to dismiss. It’s as if both parties in the conversation can, in the span of 15 seconds, check off the daily check-in from their to-do list and get back to the real business of life. A general question, then, requires virtually nothing of either the asker or the answerer.

Engaging with our kids is not easy. It’s hard a multiple levels – hard emotionally as we hear about their pain, hard practically as it takes time and patience, and hard even physically sometimes as those children have trouble expressing themselves. But the hard is not bad. The hard is good, and so is the patience and perseverance that comes from it.

3. It’s not reflective enough.

As parents, and maybe in particularly as a father, we are meant to reflect something more. See, fathers are shadows of a greater Father. God has given us these children not only to protect them, provide for them, and teach them – He has given us these children for us to point them to their true Father. I am, as their dad, a visible portrait of an invisible reality. In other words, both when I do the right thing and when I come up short as a dad, I am but a shadow of who God is. By God’s grace, I pray that our kids might say over and over again when they encounter God is something like this: “It’s like daddy, but better.”

• God loves me like daddy does… only better.
• God provides for me like daddy does… only better.
• God disciplines me like daddy does… only better.
• God takes care of me like daddy does… only better.

Our questions ought to reflect that reality. That in the same way we are commanded to cast all our cares on the Lord – not just the big and significant ones, but all of them – so also should we be specific, attentive, and engaged enough to not just know what those cares are in our families, but to ask about them. In so doing, we are pointing our whole families, but in particular our children, to their greater Father in heaven.

Parents, let’s be diligent in this. Let’s not let ourselves off so easily, but instead press in and press on. It will take time, but as we do simple things like asking better questions we can develop habits. And those habits lead to the kind of culture we want to have in our families.

Michael Kelley lives in Nashville, Tenn., with his wife, Jana, and three children: Joshua, Andi, and Christian. He serves as the Sr. Vice President of Church Ministries for Lifeway Christian Resources. He is the author of Growing Down: Unlearning the Patterns of Adulthood that Keep Us from Jesus, Wednesdays Were Pretty Normal: A Boy, Cancer, and God; Transformational Discipleship; and Boring: Finding an Extraordinary God in an Ordinary Life.

This post originally appeared on michaelkelley.co.

More and more, I’m finding parenting is less about significant single moments, and more and more about the accumulation of a multitude of smaller moments. To use an illustration, impacting and shaping our children is less about a flood and more about a drop of water applied to the same place over and over again. That’s how rocks are formed and shaped; it’s also how kids are built. Consistency. Faithfulness. Over and over again.

Sure, it’s great to give our kids opportunities for significant spiritual moments, but nothing can replace the power of time and the gospel consistently spoken, applied, and demonstrated in our homes. It’s not as exciting, but it’s much more effective and sustainable. If that’s true, then, we as parents ought to give consideration about the everyday ways we can consistently demonstrate the reality of the gospel to our children. Here are four of them:

1. Don’t minimize their struggles.

We’ve been around longer than our kids. Because we have, we know a few things. We know that strikeout isn’t the end of the world; we know that there’s always another test to study for; we know that girls in middle school will continue to be mean. It’s good that we know these things because that knowledge can help bring some perspective to our kids and by God’s grace help them understand that these things that are painful in the moment aren’t the end of the world.

But we should be careful here lest we minimize their struggles and simply brush them aside as if they don’t matter. They matter to them, and so they should matter to us. The gospel helps us here, but we have been brought into a relationship with a Father who certainly has a greater perspective than we do, and yet One who commands us to cast all our cares upon Him. The command isn’t just for “worthy” cares, or “long lasting” cares, but all of them – even those that time will reveal to be small and insignificant. One way we model this reality for our children is through inviting the same and not minimizing the real struggles they are experiencing at a given moment.

2. Keep your promises.

There might not be an environment in which our word matters more than our own home. Our families ought to be the kinds of places in which we can count on one another to do what we say we are going to do. Parents should keep their promises, if for no other reason than we are guiding our children to love a promise-keeping God.

Of course, one of the things that means is that parents ought to be slow in making promises because there are all kinds of reasons why we might have to walk back something we’ve said to our children. Conflicts come up; schedules get confused; obligations surface. So we should, as parents, be slow to speak in this regard. And when we do make a commitment to our children, we should do all in our power to keep it so they will get a glimpse of a God who can be counted on. Always.

3. Administer consistent discipline.

The truth is we don’t like to discipline our kids. Most every parent knows that. But most every parent knows that it’s necessary. In fact, disciplining our children in a consistent way is one of the most powerful demonstrations of the gospel we can give them. Though it might seem counter-intuitive to our kids, when we discipline them, we are demonstrating that we love them. We are showing them we care about their future and their character, just as God does with us.

God loves us too much to allow us to go our own way. He is an involved parent – one that is not only knowledgable of, but is active in the details of our lives. As parents, we should be the same. When our children approach their true Father, they should not be surprised to experience loving and formative discipline in that relationships, for that’s what their experience has consistently been in their earthly homes.

4. Don’t be afraid to apologize.

Sadly, though, we as parents will always fall short in the way we demonstrate the gospel. We will inevitably trivialize our kids’ struggles, break our word, and fail to administer consistent discipline. We will mess up. And in that moment, we need the gospel, just as our children do. So one other way we demonstrate the gospel is by owning our failures with them and asking their forgiveness without trying to justify why it was we fell short. In the end, we did – and the work of the gospel in our lives allows us to fully own the fact that we did.

Our willingness to apologize and own our failings as parents is perhaps the greatest way we demonstrate the gospel. When we are quick to apologize in our family, and subsequently quick to forgive each other, our kids come to have an inkling of what their relationship with God can be like.

Bit by bit. Drip by drip. This is how the Holy Spirit tends to do His work through us as parents who are seeking to raise our children in the faith. Let’s give ourselves to this work, trusting that in time, God will do what only He can and shape the hearts of these children.

This post originally appeared on michaelkelley.co.