Last week I enjoyed the opportunity to replace “no” with “know.”
My daughter and I took our annual trip to Camp Paradise, a father-daughter event at a rustic facility deep in the heart of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. The word rustic means no running water and no electricity. Yes, quite a challenge to go without two out of the big three needs in life. Fortunately, they provide a consistent supply of coffee—the third big need—which makes the experience extremely doable.
Even when you consider the living quarters.
Our modest, one-room cabin housed five 12-year-old daughters in top bunks, five snoring dads in bottom bunks, an outhouse 50 yards away, and enough mosquitoes to qualify as a plague.
And we considered it all joy.
Our cabin ate together, played together, swam together, talked together, snored together, adventured together, and together learned that life without electricity and water faucets works just fine. The coffee for dads helps a lot.
Throughout four nights of eating, playing, swimming, talking, snoring, adventuring, and learning, I began to really know each girl. To understand who God made inside each of these young ladies. I discovered the potential to focus more on people when you care less about time. I concluded that exuberance for keeping a schedule stands as a frequent reason behind the word “no.” Amazing, it seems, at how relaxed everyone feels when cell phone signals don’t exist, iPods remain at home, and email is not an option. Our daughters competed with nothing for our notice, other than the mosquitoes.
Children thrive when they sense your undivided attention.
And amidst their thriving, I learned to appreciate each girl for her uniqueness:
- Like the quiet girl whose eyes constantly shone brightly at her dad, communicating her love and trust for him.
- The friend maker whose smile welcomed all who she interacted with, and who helped all the other girls feel like they belonged. Not surprisingly, her dad owned the same character.
- The adventurous one who quietly but confidently towed her dad through the high ropes course, up the climbing wall, and onto the water trampoline. Her desire to try new experiences proved strong; the grip on her dad’s hand proved stronger.
- The bold one who vociferously rose to any and all challenges; she led the way for the group to engage fun activities. God will accomplish plenty through her.
- The big hearted one who laughed hard, talked a lot with her dad, and encouraged others; she went to sleep earliest—with a big smile from appreciating the day and loving her dad.
Fortunately, the camp experience includes a designated opportunity to share these observations with each girl. Should’ve seen their eyes light up when the dads spoke these and many other words of affirmation.
Okay, let’s start application time.
Encourage your teachers, small group leaders, mentors, and anyone else in your ministry to know the children in their charge. This only happens when you feel less concern for the minutes left in the hour, diminished dependence on the curriculum materials for conversation, and more undivided attention for children. Then take the critical, life-giving (maybe even life-changing) step of sharing with a child what you learn about him or her. Prepare for bright eyes and big smiles.
This will take serious work, though. In a schedule-driven, program-intensive setting like children’s ministry (mentoring or parenting, too), it’s more tempting to say “no” than to really “know.” So lead the change.
And remember the coffee.
David Staal, senior editor of Today’s Children’s Ministry, serves as the president of Kids Hope USA, a national non-profit organization that partners local churches with elementary schools to provide mentors for at-risk students. Prior to this assignment, David led Promiseland, the children’s ministry at Willow Creek Community Church in Barrington, Illinois. David is the author of Words Kids Need to Hear (2008) and lives in Grand Haven, MI, with his wife Becky, son Scott, and daughter Erin. Interested in David speaking at your event? Click here
©2009, David Staal