What if...?

I bought an extra Mother’s Day card this year and gave it to myself. Now framed and hanging in my office, the card reads, You are hip and cool, no matter what your teenagers tell you. I need this card for a little extra encouragement because even though the teens in my house no longer plead “Mom you can just wait in the car. Please—wait—in—the—car” when I pick them up from events, they still don’t see me as a person with, well, feelings. That’s not always fun when you’re a mom (hence the card), but having already raised one teen to adulthood I try to remind myself that part of being a teen is putting space between you and your parents as you try to navigate the world by yourself.

Problem is, the world is not an easy place to navigate when you don’t want your parents to join you on the journey. At a recent conference in Atlanta, Chap Clark, PhD, author of Hurt and Founder of ParenTeen and HURT Seminars, shared research indicating how critical it is for adolescents to have the guidance and support of five caring adults in their lives. Parents are encouraged to seek out adult role models who can invest in the lives of their kids by being “accessible, available, and encouraging” to them.

What does all of this have to do with those of us in children’s ministry? We have them first. At one time the adolescents in your church family were five-year-olds in a Sunday school class. You formed relationships with them during the year they were part of your small group. You knew that Danielle liked to bring her stuffed unicorn to class and that Isaac cheered for the Lakers. You hugged Patrick when his parents split up and you and Megan gave thanks to God when she finally lost her first tooth. For one year you had the privilege of sharing in the details of their lives. We have them first.

What if your relationship with the kids in your small group didn’t end with the church school year next month? What if you continued to smile and use their name when you passed them in the church halls over the next 15 years? What if you bought one of those nifty bathroom birthday calendars and began writing down their birth dates so you could send them a card each year? (Even when they moved away for university.) What if you traced their hand on the last day of class and had them sign it, tucked that page into a special binder, and told them, “I’ll be placing my hand on it and praying for you,” and then sought them out over the years to retrace their growing hands and remind them that you were still praying? What would change in the lives of the teens in your church family if the church became filled with the “accessible, available and encouraging” faces of former Sunday school teachers?

I can’t wait to find out.