Every children’s ministry has that kid.
You know the one.
The kid you see coming down the hallway and instinctively think, Welp…there goes the morning. Maybe he has enough energy to power the church building. Maybe she considers every instruction more of a loose suggestion. In fact, you’re probably picturing someone in your head right now.
Unfortunately, (and I know this from experience) it’s easy to start seeing that child as a problem to manage instead of a person to love.
In Feeding Faith, I tell the story of an older man who approached me after a conference session. As a boy, he had been the troublemaker in Sunday school. He disrupted class constantly, and his teacher corrected him week after week.
Then one Sunday, his family missed church. A few days later, a letter arrived from his teacher. Four words changed everything:
“I really missed you.”
He couldn’t believe it. He assumed his teacher would be relieved when he wasn’t there. Instead, she missed him. For the first time, he realized, Maybe she actually likes me. Maybe she wants me in class.
His attitude began to change. He started listening. And eventually, the love and grace he experienced through that teacher helped open his heart to Jesus.
That story has stuck with me for years because it’s easy to focus on what a child is doing and miss what might be going on underneath it. Behind the disruption may be loneliness. Behind the attention-seeking may be a child wondering whether anyone notices them. Behind the defiance may be a kid who has learned that negative attention is still attention.
This doesn’t mean we ignore bad behavior. Boundaries matter. Safety matters. Sometimes little Johnny really does need to stop licking the glue stick. But correction and connection aren’t enemies.
In fact, correction works best inside connection.
So here’s a challenge. Think about the most difficult kid in your ministry. What if this Sunday you looked for one thing you genuinely enjoy about them—and told them?
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“You make me laugh.”
“That was a really thoughtful answer.”
“I missed you last week.”
Small words. Huge potential.
Feeding Faith is built around the idea that kids need more than lessons. They need people who help them encounter the love of Jesus in real, tangible ways. You can be one of those people. And you don’t have to deliver a life-changing speech.
Sometimes four words will do.
The kid who tests your patience today may someday remember you as the adult who saw past the behavior and saw them. What a privilege. What an opportunity. And what a good reason to keep showing up.

