Crossing the River

Overcoming Fear to Reconnect

Over the years, I’ve had a lot of conversations with other parents who are living through the nightmare of alienation. And even though every situation is different, there’s one thing that comes up over and over again: fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of making things worse, and fear of taking another hit

I understand where they’re coming from, I’ve been there myself. After a while, it feels like that fear starts to build walls around you. You tell yourself that maybe it’s safer just to stay quiet, instead of reaching out. You even convince yourself that your child probably doesn’t want to hear from you anyway, or worse, that they’ve been brainwashed to the point that your love wouldn’t even matter.

But here’s the thing. How much of that fear is actually based on reality? And how much of it is just the junk we make up in our own minds?

This reminds me of a parable I came across a while back while, I’m not sure of it’s origins, I think you’ll find that it hits home with you too.

A weary traveler, exhausted from his long journey under the scorching sun, came upon a wide river. Thirsty and eager to cross, he approached the edge but hesitated. The river appeared deep, and its surface shimmered with a swift current. Fearful of hidden dangers, he lingered, imagining all the ways the river might sweep him away.

For a long time, he walked up and down the riverbank, searching for a safer place to cross, but none appeared. Finally, overcome by thirst and desperation, he summoned his courage and stepped into the water.

To his surprise, the river was shallow, and the current was mild. He waded across with ease and drank his fill on the other side.
In the end, the traveler realized he had wasted precious time and energy fearing something that turned out to be far less daunting than he had imagined.

Oddly, that’s exactly what happens to a lot of us trying to reconnect with our kids. We tend to build up these worst-case scenarios in our minds such as, “What if they slam the door in my face? What if they don’t answer? What if I just make things worse?” We assume the outcome even before we give it a chance.

But what if it’s not as bad as we initially thought it would be? What if that one small gesture that we offer, a simple note, a shared memory, or perhaps a quiet reminder that we love them—plants the first seed of something new? This is something we won’t know unless we try.

However, that doesn’t mean rushing in and expecting miracles to happen overnight. Like the traveler who stepped in slowly, we have to move with patience and care. Even if we’re met with silence, the effort will still matter. It’s a sign of love that can leave a lasting impression, even long after the moment is gone.

In the end, alienation keeps us stuck on that riverbank, staring across at what we’ve lost. But at some point in time, we have to ask ourselves: are we going to keep waiting, or are we going to take that first step to test the waters?

David Shubert