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.

Facing Cancer With Faith

Elderly couple resting in bed while holding hands beside a lamp and candle

My dad has been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer in his rectum, bladder, and sternum. He’s a “healthy 84,” so the doctor thinks he can eliminate it with chemo and immunotherapy. This is not the first time. He had cancer in his rectum over 30 years ago. At that time, I wrote this poem:

Facing Cancer

"I'm facing my biggest fear,"
He said to me.
I was already hurting.
These words I did not need to hear.
"How does it feel to see me this way?"
He asked of me.
Hurt for him is what I felt.
"Sad" was all I could say.
The man with whom I could run 10 miles
And scale mountain peaks
Now, struggled to walk a few feet.
Memories of such days, now, did not bring smiles.
Seeing my dad weak and in pain,
Hurts me too much.
But though this is hard to bear,
I know our faith will not wane.
Through this fight for his life,
I'll be by his side,
And praying to my Lord:
"Comfort us. Save my father's life."
What outcome lies ahead for us?
It's beyond my control.
I simply do not know.
So in our Lord and Savior we place our trust.

Now we say the same prayers again. It’s just as hard, if not harder. I also pray for the “peace that surpasses all understanding.” Phillipians 4:7

I find it is easier to be angry. Someone tried to provoke me to anger yesterday. The Holy Spirit had to have given me self-control, because I certainly wanted to explode but didn’t. I find I’m less patient with my daughters, too, and have to be more careful not to snap in anger over petty offenses.

I’m most thankful for the prayers, love, and support of my fellow Christians. I can genuinely feel their concern; I can see it in their eyes, and I can feel it in my heart.

I look at my daughters, 10 and 12, and pray my father lives to see them grow into the Godly women they are meant to be. He’s proud of who they are already. They are mature beyond their years. They are smart, beautiful and gifted. My dad sees and knows this already.

As a relatively unknown author navigating the early stages of promoting my book, Redeeming Rhubarb, the journey is as much personal as it is professional. The book has earned a Certified Great Read distinction and a strong Kirkus review, but my deepest validation comes from home. My father has read it, and he knows how special it is.

My prayer now is for time: time to work hard and share this book with the world, and time for my dad to witness both its success and the growth of my daughters. Whatever the future holds, he already knows the depth of what I’ve created and what outsanding daughters I have.

I am not without hope. I do believe in a God who can perform miracles. At the same time, I’m skeptical and don’t have much faith in the medical profession. I believe his doctors and medical professionals have his best interest in mind. I also believe that God will work all things together for good Romans 8:28.

Facing Cancer Again

Once again, we face our biggest fears.
Though the pain brings us many tears,
We stay firm in our faith and belief,
That God will bring us relief
While we still have hopes and dreams. 
We see beyond evil's schemes
To our heavenly reward and place,
No matter what trials we face.

The Power of Love in a Broken World

Person walking along a lit path through a dark leafless woodland

The Book of Love Tells Us So

Alone in the lost chambers of your mind
Hopeless among such violence and hate
While the world outside is so unkind
Do you trust love came to interrelate?

In darkened streets where poor children scream
Vile abusers are allowed to walk free
Can you believe love really reigns supreme?
Or hope in some unseen guarantee?

In an evil world we are quick to blame
Love as defined by our own depraved hearts
Perhaps we are deceived by our own shame
Shredding souls into divided parts

We fail to see love’s provided the way
To light the darkness and dawn a new day