You will not be able to name the foundations you are laying in your life until you are standing on them. The analogy Christ gives us for ‘the house built upon the rock’ might seem simple, but the rains, the floods and the wind will come.

Sometimes Catholic parents might think the greatest storm is western culture. Perhaps you have met, as I have, families who have moved continents in order to do what is best for their children, as they felt prompted. Books such as The Benedict Option and other propositions from recent years have resonated with many. Some respond to the cultural revolution and its muddled identity bickering, called ‘wokery’, with brilliant ideas for education and moral formation.

I have found the greatest challenge is that of charity, and the instilling of a genuine heart for the lost in my children. Although not a saint, one of my great heroes, Frank Duff, founder of the Legion of Mary, worked hard a hundred years ago to take in women in Dublin who had become pregnant outside of wedlock. One of his volunteers complained about a particular woman who had frequently become pregnant and was in need of care and help. But all Frank Duff would say of her was: ‘Isn’t she a great mother?’ I draw upon this story as the saints are always foolish and hopeful, and so we must be.

The lives of our children will be complicated, as the world in which they will grow up will be lonely. It is now evident that large proportions of the population of some European countries will, in a quarter of a century, be living alone, and not near a known relative. The true nature of this experience for the millions who will have it can only be guessed at by looking at Japan and South Korea, whose villages are emptying, and which have businesses whose job it is to attend to the corpses of unknown elderly people who die alone and are discovered later.

That is to say nothing of the attitudes within the culture, which could make us wish to retreat and do nothing. One of my sons wanted to watch the recent remake of the animated film Snow White with some of his friends. I asked him why, and learned it was for his own amusement. We had a long conversation on the subject of charity and, in the end, he and his friends watched the film, and I did with them. I demanded they conduct a debate on its merits – that this film is a ‘good’ one – at the close. My son’s effort for the motion was roundly defeated.

I wanted him to defend it, though, as we must defend the dignity of our fellow creatures. It is easy to laugh at and despise the ‘woke’ creations of our culture, but that is a trap. In any case, it is worth noting that one of the main goals intended by the creation of these stories is to provoke an angry reaction from those who hold traditional values. ‘Wokery’ claims virtue out of victimhood, which is a Christian value abused; if we claim righteousness for knowing what is true, we make the same mistake in reverse.

The messages contained in entertainment are impossible to avoid for us. It is our instinct as parents to create a ‘perfect world’ for our youngsters, full of wholesome role models and good education. But we may forget that the culture is in desperate need of the presence of these youngsters, and their prayers. When I place a sign of the Cross on their foreheads at night, I tell the children, especially the boys: ‘Ask your Guardian Angel to draw his sword.’ I am inviting them to see the spiritual battle, and pray.

I believe that knowing the battle is spiritual is our only foundation anyway. I do not mean to denigrate the tremendous dreams we may have of creating the perfect life for children, but I do not want to lie to them; we are called to fight, to seek God’s will, and this is our foundation. If we can get this right, these ideas are the only reason our children will show charity later, when the world is even worse, and more desperate, than it is today.

There is, too, the fear that we might have: that our children might be tricked by the Devil and buy into the world, or be corrupted by the sexual revolution. Any parent that I know whose grown children are doing well will always say the same thing when asked: I had no formula.

Prayer is more powerful than we realise, both for our children and for the prayers they begin to pray for themselves. I particularly think that young men, of whom I have four, will have their own strengths and capacity to love turned against them without the pleading of prayer. The young man is capable of great and powerful love; but self-sacrificing love for the Church, his vocation or his future wife can be deformed by sin. I have not mentioned my daughters, whom I am attempting to cherish: God will help them, and they will help others in prayer – it is our defence.

In any case, it is from the lack of strength, which is turned inwards into sinfulness, and the lack of being cherished, which is turned into hopelessness and abandonment, that we get many of the strange phenomena called ‘wokery’. This might fill you with frustration, but, as I think about it, it fills me with pity. Imagine a world where no one has any hope for the future, and life is a kind of nightmare, as Blaise Pascal put it, the ‘terror of endless silence in infinite space’.

God is ready to fill that space in all of our lives, however. It is in learning to pray that our children will develop a love for others, and lay the true foundation, which is invisible but transformative, that the world needs. All else will follow.