A hum of excitement buzzed through the crowd as families made their way down the aisles of the school auditorium and settled into seats. Parents greeted one another across rows of chairs, voices raised to be heard over the giggles and squeals of the little ones clinging to legs and hanging from arms. Then the lights dimmed, the chatter settled down, and all eyes (and iphones) turned to the stage where a parade of first graders was assembling.

For the next half hour, the audience cheered and laughed and applauded our way through a food-themed performance of six-year-olds clad in foodie costumes and singing their little hearts out to a collection of clever fast food jingles. The show was interrupted by plenty of fussy babies and toddlers embracing their after-bedtime hyperactivity, but the atmosphere in the room remained celebratory and joyful, ending with a standing ovation for the young performers as they belted out their closing number and took a final bow.

Because our family homeschools, we don’t have many opportunities to be in groups entirely made up of young families, so we were happy to join in the schooltime fun that evening for my nephew’s spring performance. I was touched by the presence of so many parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins, and friends who had gathered to cheer on our favorite little first-graders. For once, our family of six didn’t feel out of place: many mothers were pregnant or carrying a baby on one hip, and I was one of several parents who viewed the performance from the back of the auditorium as I bounced my baby in time with the songs.

Though the setting was not an everyday one for our family, it was hardly unique: countless schools across the country host musical performances each spring, not to mention fall performances and Christmas pageants and end-of-year galas. There are other times when families gather, too—at sporting events and family-friendly church activities and neighborhood gatherings. But as we sat in the auditorium that night, it struck me that while kid-centric events continue to serve as gathering places for families, it’s becoming increasingly rare to see kids present in settings that do not explicitly revolve around kids.

Maybe it’s just my stage in life and the fact that I’m no longer a kid myself but have my own kids in tow, but it seems like it has become much less common to see families together in public settings. I always have at least one child with me when I’m running errands or at appointments, and often there are no other kids in sight. It seems like society has steadily moved towards having separate spaces for kids and adults: kids go to school and daycare and extracurricular activities, leaving adults free to work and play without the presence of children. This is often a good and necessary thing for both kids and adults, but I can’t help but wonder about what may be lost when kids are no longer as ubiquitous in general society.

In her book Hannah’s Children, author and researcher Catherine Pakaluk explores the societal implications for the present decline in birth rates. One sad repercussion is the dwindling presence of children in public spaces. Some may see this is a positive shift: kids bring noise and chaos; they move at a different pace from adults, so they stretch our patience; and they are needy and selfish, which requires selflessness from those of us who are older and (hopefully) more mature. Having kids around is undeniably challenging, so I understand how many would view a decrease in children as optimal.

But I think the benefits of kids being present may outweigh the negatives: being around kids builds character as we learn to set aside our needs and desires for their sake. Kids reorient our focus away from ourselves and towards the future that these little ones will inhabit. They also bring a sense of joy and levity and playfulness that can otherwise get lost among the over-twenty crowd. Personally, I’ve noticed that I see a lot more smiling whenever I am wearing Nico; people can’t help but smile in the presence of a baby!

I may be wrong, but I think Jesus would be on my side in this kids-in-public discussion. From what we see of Jesus’ ministry, He not only tolerated children, He valued them. In Matthew 19, people were gathered around Jesus to hear him teach. Some parents interrupted the teaching to bring their children up to Jesus and have Him bless and pray for their little ones. This action was frowned upon by Jesus’ disciples, who tried to usher the children away, but Jesus did not scold the children or their parents. In fact, it was the interfering disciples who were reprimanded as Jesus said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Here we see Jesus’ heart for ALL people, including the young.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about Jesus’ words and His approach as it pertains to my time with my kids. And I’ve been asking myself: am I doing all that I can to let my children come to Jesus? Don’t get me wrong, I take their discipleship seriously: we pray together throughout the day, recite the creeds in the morning and read the Bible together each night, memorize a new verse every week, listen to worship music in the car, and work through Bible curriculum in school. We also take them to Sunday school and Bible study, where their discipleship is continued under the authority of other adults. These are all great things, and while these activities won’t guarantee their salvation, they are setting my kids up for a fruitful relationship with Christ.

Something I am not as good about doing is bringing my kids into my own relationship with the Lord. I’ve (unintentionally) made a distinction between the things I’m doing to disciple my kids, and the practices that are part of my personal discipleship. I’m selfish about my time with God, making my prayer time and scripture memory and Bible study my own without welcoming my family in. This isn’t necessarily wrong, but I’m wondering if letting my kids “come to Jesus” might mean letting them come along WITH me, and not just separately.

In my year of intentionally following the Good Shepherd and exploring ways to be a better shepherd to my children, I’m thinking through how to do these two things in tandem. Practically, this might involve talking to them about my prayer life and the things I’m learning through Scripture. It could mean that I start reading aloud from my Bible when they come in during my quiet time, instead of asking them to be quiet so that I can focus. Maybe it’s bringing them into worship services with us, or having them participate in serving alongside us, or having open discussions about our financial givings to the church. It may even mean that they see me confessing sin and asking God for forgiveness.

Jesus welcomed the children to Him, and this can be done in kid-specific settings and kid-friendly ways. Sometimes, though, it will be in times and spaces and ways that seem to be interfering with the agendas we adults have already set with the Lord. To this, I believe Jesus would ask us to set aside our preconceived notions about what following Him will look like so that kids and adults, families and singles, the well-mannered and the disruptive can all come to Him together at once. It may not be convenient or comfortable, but it will be better as we step into the beauty and abundance of God’s Kingdom.

God, forgive me for the times when I have viewed my kids as a distraction from following you. Open my eyes to new ways of walking towards you with them by my side. Help me to remember that we ALL are your children, and that my kids are more than just my offspring but also my fellow brothers and sisters in you.