I didn’t handle it well.

Let me just start there, because I know I’m not the only mom who’s found herself spiraling when a kid announces a life plan you didn’t see coming—and certainly didn’t plan for.

My middle child, Cameron, was born ready to go. A lover of people. Passionate. Full of life. He spent most of his teen years on the basketball court, but during his senior year—right as his dad and I were going through a divorce—he stepped away from the game. 

After he graduated, he decided to attend a private Christian college in Florida to study missions. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. This was the same kid who told me in the first grade that he wanted to be a missionary. His older brother, Kendall had announced that he wanted to be a Veterinarian. Cameron said, "Well I want to be a Missionarian!" When I asked what kind of "missionarian" he wanted to be, he replied, "I want to build houses for kids and dogs because their are kids and dogs all over the world who don't have a home."

That college environment opened the door for Cameron to grow in his faith. 

School was never easy for Cameron, but he pushed through. He was thriving.

And then… COVID hit.

His planned summer abroad—serving in four different African countries—was canceled. Knowing he needed a next step, I agreed to send him to a discipleship program in California called Circuit Riders. He loved it.

Loved it so much, in fact, that he came home and told me he wasn’t going back to college.
He had three semesters left.
And he was done.

Instead, he planned to work, save up, and move to California to join staff with Circuit Riders.

I was angry.
Frustrated.
Opinionated.

I told him I didn’t support his decision. I refused to help him financially. I thought he was throwing away everything he had worked for.

So he sold his car, got a job, and moved anyway.

I remember calling my longtime mentor, Margaret, fully expecting her to agree with me—Cameron was making the biggest mistake of his life, right?

Instead, she said something that stopped me in my tracks.

“Lisa, you raised him to care about people. What did you expect?”

She reminded me that I was a lot like Cameron. And if I’d been given this kind of opportunity at his age, I would’ve taken it too.

I wasn’t thrilled, but I got out of the way.
He was going—with or without my support.

And over the next few months, I saw something remarkable: he grew.
It’s his story to tell, but that move shaped him in ways I never could have imagined.

Here’s what I learned:

1. Young adults need space to make their own decisions.
   Even the ones we don’t agree with. Sometimes they’ll work out beautifully, and sometimes they won’t. But they won’t grow if we never let them try.
2. You can support without agreeing.
   I didn’t have to love his plan. I just had to love him. Cameron didn’t need my permission—he needed my presence.
3. Financial support is optional.
   We get to decide if we’re going to help financially. Not out of punishment, but out of discernment. I wasn’t ready to invest in something I didn’t believe in—and that was okay.

When your kid makes a big decision you don’t agree with, try these 3 steps:

Don’t panic.
Breathe. Resist the urge to spiral into worst-case scenarios.

Don’t preach.
They’re not asking for a sermon. They’re asking to be seen.

Don’t predict.
You don’t know how it’ll turn out. Let them write their own story.

Looking back, I’m so grateful Margaret challenged me that day. Her words helped me show up for my son in a new way—one that deepened our relationship, even when we saw things differently.

If you’re in the messy middle of parenting a young adult, I hope this reminds you:
You don’t have to agree to still love well.