I love my job. Seriously! I mean, most days. Ha!
The single most rewarding parts of what I get to do here at KCC is working with our youth band. There’s something pretty special about watching a young musician figure something out for the first time. Seeing the lightbulb come on when a chord finally clicks, watching someone find their confidence, or hearing a group of kids start to sound like an actual band instead of five people playing five different songs. (Trust me, there’s a difference.) I love that stuff.
But the older I get, the more I realize that what we’re doing is about so much more than music. This week is Youth Sunday, and I’ve been thinking about what it means to invest in the next generation. Not just as musicians, but as worshippers, leaders, and followers of Jesus.
Recently, I reconnected with a guy I worked with for about six years in a previous version of KCC’s youth band. This was well over a decade ago, which is a slightly uncomfortable reminder that I’m not nearly as young as I think I am. Our conversation got me thinking about all the students I’ve worked with over the years and how easily we can lose sight of the bigger picture. Are the songs ready? Does everyone know their parts? Can we make it through Sunday without a train wreck? Those things matter, but they’re not the most important things.
What really matters is that the relationships we’re building and the examples we’re setting can stay with these kids long after they’ve outgrown the youth room. Psalm 78:4 reminds us to tell the next generation about God’s goodness and mighty works so that they, too, will put their trust in Him. We’re not just preparing students for next Sunday’s worship set. We’re helping prepare them for life.
Here’s something I’ve come to believe: Kids learn just as much from watching us as they do from listening to us. They notice how we treat people, handle frustration, and respond when things don’t go our way. James 3:1 reminds us that those who teach are held to a higher standard. That’s a verse I probably need to think about more often. If I’m going to have a voice in the lives of young people, I’d better pay attention to what that voice is saying—even when I’m not speaking.
That also means being accessible. Listening. Taking their interests seriously. Being relevant enough to connect with their world without pretending I’m still 17. Nobody needs to see that. Especially me. And it means freely sharing what I’ve learned—the good decisions, the bad ones, and the ways I’ve seen God work through both.
Deuteronomy 6:6–7 reminds us that passing along our faith happens in everyday life. Not just during sermons or Bible studies, but in ordinary conversations and shared experiences. Paul echoes that idea in 2 Timothy 2:2, encouraging Timothy to pass along what he’s learned to others who can teach the generations that follow. Someone invests in us. We invest in someone else. They do the same. That’s how discipleship is supposed to work.
One of my favorite verses for youth ministry is 1 Timothy 4:12, where Paul tells Timothy not to let anyone look down on him because he’s young, but to set an example for other believers. We often call our young people the future of the church. And they are. But they’re also the church right now. Their gifts matter today. Our job is to encourage them, equip them, give them opportunities, and occasionally get out of their way.
So as we celebrate Youth Sunday, I hope we’ll all consider the role we play in their lives. Maybe you don’t play an instrument or work with kids, but you have something to offer. Your experiences, your encouragement, your faith, your time. Even remembering a student’s name and genuinely asking how they’re doing can make a difference. Ephesians 4:12 reminds us that equipping God’s people for service is how we build up the body of Christ. That’s not just my job. It’s ours.
I don’t know what the future holds for these students. Some may become professional musicians. Some may lead worship. Some may never pick up an instrument again. But I hope they all leave knowing they’re loved, valued, and have a place in God’s story.
Because at the end of the day, I’m not nearly as concerned about whether they remember the songs we played as I am about whether they remember the God we were singing to.
And if we’re doing this right, someday they’ll be the ones pouring into the next generation.
That’s a legacy worth building.