Reading Is Not a Race: What I Wish Every Parent Knew

Last week, two of my boys left the library carrying stacks of books.

One couldn't wait to get home and start reading. Before we had even pulled out of the parking lot, he was already flipping through the first few pages. The other was mostly excited about the Lego display near the front door.

As we loaded everything into the car, I found myself laughing because that little moment pretty much sums up reading in our house.

My boys couldn't be more different when it comes to books.

My rising fourth grader is rarely without something to read. He devours books and reads well beyond what most people would expect for his age. If there is a free moment in his day, chances are good he's spending it with a book in his hand.

My rising second grader is much the same. He loves stories, remembers details I missed, and often surprises me with the connections he makes while reading. Like his older brother, he's reading well beyond what the grade-level charts say he "should" be reading.

Then there's my rising third grader.

If you gave him the choice between reading a book and building something, creating something, exploring outside, drawing, wrestling with his brothers, or figuring out how something works, he'd probably choose one of those every single time.

And if I'm being honest, there have been moments when I've worried about that.

After all, I teach reading to future educators. Shouldn't all of my children love books? Shouldn't they all be reading above grade level? Shouldn't I have somehow cracked the code?

Motherhood has a funny way of humbling us.

The truth is that my third grader is doing just fine. He understands what he reads. He's growing as a reader. He's making progress. He's exactly where he needs to be right now.

He just doesn't look exactly like his brothers.

And that's where I think so many parents get stuck.

We live in a world of reading charts, levels, benchmarks, assessments, and social media posts celebrating five-year-olds reading chapter books. None of those things are inherently bad. In fact, as an educator, I understand why many of them exist.

But if we're not careful, we can start measuring our children against someone else's highlight reel instead of looking at the child sitting right in front of us.

I've seen parents worry because their child isn't reading as early as a sibling. I've seen parents wonder if they're failing because another child in the class is reading books that seem much harder. I've seen parents become discouraged because their child doesn't love reading the way someone else's child does.

Comparison has a way of stealing our joy and blinding us to the growth that is actually happening.

Even those grade-level expectations we talk about so often are simply benchmarks. They are tools, not definitions. They don't measure intelligence, creativity, character, curiosity, determination, kindness, or potential.

They certainly don't determine a child's worth.

The truth is, even my boys who read well above grade level aren't "better" readers because of it. They simply developed differently. Reading comes naturally to them, and they happen to enjoy it.

But those strengths don't make them more valuable than their brother.

The funny thing is that some of my third grader's greatest strengths have nothing to do with reading.

He notices details other people miss. He creates constantly. He asks incredible questions. He approaches problems in ways I never would have considered. He sees possibilities where others see obstacles.

God is growing gifts in him that don't show up on a reading assessment.

And honestly, that's true for all of our children.

In our house, we focus less on creating readers and more on creating a culture where reading is valued.

Books are everywhere. In bedrooms. In baskets. In the living room. In the car. On shelves. Stacked beside beds. There may even be a few in the bathroom.

We visit the library every week, and sometimes more than once a week.

But I don't force my children to check out books. I don't require them to finish every book they start. I don't hand them a list and tell them what they have to read all summer.

Instead, I try to help them discover what interests them.

We talk about books. We talk about interesting facts they've learned. We write down new words. We listen when they're excited about a story. We let them see Tyler and me reading. We show interest because we are interested.

And every now and then, I'll walk into a room and find my third grader curled up with a book.

Not because I assigned it.

Not because he had to read it.

But because he found a topic, a series, or a story that genuinely captured his attention.

Those moments remind me that growth often happens quietly.

They also remind me of something I need to hear as a parent.

Psalm 139 tells us that each of us is "fearfully and wonderfully made."

Not identically made.

Wonderfully made.

God never intended for our children to all have the same gifts, interests, strengths, personalities, or timelines.

In 1 Samuel 16:7, we're reminded that "People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."

While that verse isn't talking about reading levels, I think the principle still applies.

We tend to focus on the measurable things.

God sees the whole child.

He sees the child who struggles.

He sees the child who excels.

He sees the child who loves books.

He sees the child who would rather build, create, explore, and discover.

And He delights in each one.

So if you've been worried about your child's reading lately, let me gently encourage you.

Keep reading aloud, even after they can read independently.

Keep visiting the library.

Keep putting books within reach.

Keep having conversations.

Keep showing your children that reading matters.

Most of all, keep looking at your child instead of everyone else's.

Look for growth, not perfection.

Look for progress, not comparison.

Look for the gifts God is developing, even when they don't fit neatly onto a report card or reading chart.

Then trust the process. Trust the child God gave you. Trust that growth doesn't always happen on the timeline we expect.

One day you may look up and find that child curled up with a book you never asked them to read.

And even if they don't become the biggest bookworm in the family, that's okay too.

Reading matters. It absolutely does.

But long before we're raising readers, we're raising children.

Children who are learning, growing, discovering, and becoming exactly who God created them to be.

God isn't writing the same story in every child.

And maybe that's what makes each of them such a beautiful story to read.