Engaging with Children: Building Trust and Communication

Mother and child talking together on a living room sofa

Leo Buscaglia once said that to talk to children, we need to practice deep knee bends. He said we need to get down to their level. That stuck with me. In my years of volunteering in children’s ministry and now raising my own kids, I’ve put that into practice. I get down to their level and look them in the eyes. I play with them on the floor. I ask them questions and listen to them.

To children, we are towering giants. If we yell and scream, a child will be terrified. Even if we speak gently but look down upon them, they can be intimidated and fearful. Imagine being three feet tall and having someone twice your size standing over you, angry, pointing a finger, and raising his voice. That’s what we can look like to a young child. Getting down on one knee changes the entire interaction. Instead of towering over them, we’re face-to-face. When we get down to their level, we can build trust, bring comfort, and teach. Yes, children do need to obey, but not out of fear, rather out of respect.

There are certainly times when a loud voice is necessary. If my child is about to run into the street, I’m going to yell, “Stop!” That’s not intimidation; it’s protection. But there’s a difference between raising our voice to warn a child of danger and yelling because we’re angry or frustrated. Most of the time, we need to speak firmly but gently. Yelling doesn’t earn respect, but gentle firmness does. Yelling causes fear. We don’t want our children to be afraid of us. We want them to respect us.

Playing with Our Kids

Playing with our kids is vital. Fred Rogers taught that “play is really the work of childhood.” He believed that play is not just a break from real learning, but is the core way young children make sense of the world, test what is real, and practice vital life skills. Children are wired to learn as they play. When we play with them, we not only help them learn but also bond with them at their level. That bond builds trust. That bond builds security and love. Children feel loved when they play with us. They learn vital rules about interaction and about life. When I get on the floor and play a game with my girls, I’m entering their world. I’m telling them without saying a word, What matters to you matters to me. They may not remember every lesson I tried to teach them, but they’ll remember that Dad wanted to be with them.

The best way to teach anything is to ask questions, specifically open-ended questions. Questions force us to think. When we think, we ponder what we know and believe. Jesus often responded to questions with questions. He was getting his questioner to think. He didn’t lecture. He taught. When he asked, “But whom say ye that I am?” — Matthew 16:15 (KJV), he certainly knew the answer. The question wasn’t for His benefit. He wanted them to answer.

Lecture Vs Questions

When we lecture, children learn what we think. When we ask good questions, we discover what they think.

There’s an important difference.

If I ask, “Was that wrong?” I’ve almost given my child the answer. But if I ask, “What do you think about what she did?” I’ve opened a conversation.

Then I can keep going:

Why do you think she did that?
Who was hurt by her choice?
What could she have done differently?
What would you have done?
What does the Bible say about it?

Now I’m not simply giving my child a rule. I’m teaching my child how to think.

Of course, questions only work if we’re willing to listen to the answers. If every “wrong” answer immediately earns a lecture, our children will quickly learn to tell us what they think we want to hear. Sometimes we need to let them finish—even when we disagree.

We can then ask another question.

“Why do you think that?”

That may teach us something about our children that we would never discover by lecturing them.

Deep Knee Bends

I’ve been practicing those “deep knee bends” for decades—first with children in ministry and now with my own daughters. I’ve seen the dividends. My daughters know that Dad will listen. They trust me enough to tell me what they think, even when they know I may disagree. That kind of relationship didn’t happen in one conversation. It was built over years of getting down to their level.

So practice those deep knee bends. Get down on the floor. Look your child in the eyes. Play their games. Ask questions. And then listen.