We’ve all seen the pictures: a loving Jesus holding a baby, surrounded by smiling children followed by this caption: “Let the little children come to me.” How could anyone disagree, especially when looking at such innocent and adorable faces? But, as anyone who has worked in children’s ministry knows, reality isn’t Renaissance painting. Children are messy. They have adult-sized emotions without any of the adult self-control. They have a sin nature just like us, but without the ability to mask their sin. And no two children are the same. Some are compliant, some are opinionated. Some children wither beneath a disappointed look while others stand their ground no matter what punishment is dished out. But, of all places, the church should be a refuge for children of all temperaments, disabilities, and challenges. Right? In a perfect world, of course! But, as some families have discovered, the church isn’t always a Renaissance painting either.

Jessica learned this first-hand at the church that had become like a second home to her over the years her family attended. For a while, she attended only the service on Sunday mornings—listening to the sermon and then going home. But once she and her husband made the decision to commit, they jumped in with both feet. “Wherever there was a need, we would help out,” she told me one afternoon while our kids played in the backyard. They both loved their church and were excited by its energy and growth. “Even during Covid, we would go any time the church was open.” They had friends, they were growing in the Word and felt like they were right where God wanted them to be. But there was one aspect of their church experience that was not ideal – their son Jackson.

At first, it was just an incident report sent home from day care explaining that Jackson had bitten another kid. Typical toddler stuff. “We even took a picture of the incident report and kind ’ve laughed it off.” Still, nothing major occurred until after Jessica and her husband made the decision to change daycares. After the switch, there was a steady decline in Jackson’s behavior at school. Notes sent home eventually turned into phone calls in the middle of the day from the day care director telling Jessica she needed to pick Jackson up immediately due to his disruptive behavior. Eventually, the behavior problems at school spilled over into the church nursery.

“Over the course of a month, we started having meetings with our church’s preschool director. And they’d ask, ‘What can we do to help?’ and ‘Have you tried these techniques?’” And they tried many different things, including, at the church’s suggestion, “taking a break for the summer.” But this break was during Covid, when everyone was stuck at home and isolated. By the end of the two-month break, Jessica was desperate to be back in church and around other people. “But everything we tried, it would work for a little while, then we’d try going back to normal, and it would fall apart again.” The phone calls from day care were now phone calls from the church nursery in the middle of the service. “I would tense every time my phone would buzz because I knew it was either the day care or the church telling me I needed to come get my kid.” At one point, she was told the only way Jackson could continue to be in the church nursery was if he had a parent with him at all times. Since Jessica’s husband had other commitments with the church on Sunday mornings, that meant Jessica was the only parent available. Jackson did well with his mom in the room, but Jessica felt isolated from the rest of the church. “He did fine,” she told me, “but I wasn’t getting fed.”

Eventually, she asked if they could try leaving Jackson in the nursery without a parent, and the church agreed to give it a try. But then there was an incident on the church playground. Jessica was told that Jackson had kicked another child, but there was disagreement about whether he intended to harm the other child or not. Despite the disagreement, it was the last straw for the church. Jessica was told Jackson was no longer allowed in the children’s wing. He would have to sit with his parents in the church service, and if he had to be in the children’s wing while they picked up their other child, he was required to hold a parent’s hand at all times. “But it’s not like his behavior would be any better in the church service,” she knew. Still, they had been going to this church for several years and had been involved in many aspects of church ministry. They tried to make it work. But when their Sunday School class had a family fellowship on church grounds with their kids playing on the church playground, Jessica told her husband, “I’m not sure if Jackson is allowed to go.” That was when they knew they couldn’t stay. They needed to find another church.

As Jessica shared this story with me, I pointed out that many families in her situation would have walked away from church altogether. Her reply was decisive: “That was never an option for us.”

“Why?” I asked. She began to tell me what church meant to her. It’s a “place of refuge,” support, and community. “I wanted to have that feeling again,” she said. “That feeling of belonging. And I wanted my children to grow up in church so that they could have that too.”

In the years that followed, Jessica has witnessed God using her family’s story in different ways. One of the methods their previous church employed to help Jackson was to pay for a babysitter to give him one-on-one attention. The person they chose was a former daycare teacher Jackson had a good relationship with, but who didn’t regularly attend church. Through helping Jackson, it opened the door for friendship and future faith-conversations. Jessica has also crossed paths with other families who have had similar experiences at other churches. “I didn’t even know that was something that could happen to you, that your kid could be kicked out of children’s ministry! But it apparently happens at other places too.”

Jessica and her family did, eventually, find another church home. On the first Sunday they visited, they told the preschool director that their child had had problems in church nurseries before. They were reassured that Jackson would be fine, but they had been given such reassurances before. It didn’t always mean anything. Halfway through the pastor’s sermon that first Sunday, Jessica’s phone buzzed and she tensed, prepared for the worst. But when she opened the text message, she saw a picture of Jackson contentedly playing with the caption “He’s doing fine.” And he continues to “do fine.” “The whole time we’ve been at [this new church], we’ve had, maybe, two incidents…But for about a month, I would go into the nursery half-way through church just to make sure everything was still OK.”

I asked her what has helped her in the healing process. “Time helps,” she replied. Also, the acknowledgment that her former church really did try. “They were experiencing rapid growth, and, maybe, didn’t know how to handle it.” Jackson would have a different teacher almost every week, and there was no structure to the way his class was handled. “He’s the kind of kid who needs a lot of structure.” She also admitted something we would all do well to remember: “Church is built of broken people. You just have to find your type of broken you can manage.”

There is no perfect church, but, sometimes through painful experiences, you may realize that a particular church is not a good fit for you or your family. That’s OK. Just remember that one church body is not a full reflection of Jesus. Jesus really does love all of our messy, volatile, imperfect children (small children and grown children alike) and He welcomes each one with open arms.

“People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, ‘Let the little children come to me. Don’t stop them, because the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.’” (Mark 10:13-16, CSB)