My nephew comes over to my place once in a while, and every now and then, we play some Nintendo games together.

When he picks up the controller, he enters a completely different world. His eyes are glued to the screen, his fingers know exactly which buttons to press, and somehow he seems to know what is happening even when I have absolutely no idea!

Sometimes I just sit beside him and watch. I may be physically there, but I am really only a spectator in his world.

Very often, he would ask, “Gu Zhang, do you want to play with me?”

His invitation makes me glad. I pick up another controller and suddenly, I become Player 2.

Of course, I may not know all the buttons or understand the game as well as he does. There are times when I am frantically pressing buttons and wondering why my character isn’t doing what I want!

But something changes when I pick up that second controller.

I am no longer just watching him from the outside. I have entered his world. I am playing alongside him.

Perhaps this is a little picture of what it means for us to relate to children. If we really want to understand them, we need to be willing to put down our adult perspective, pick up the second controller and enter their world.

I was reminded of this during our recent U12 Teachers’ Gathering, when I shared about my own attempts to enter the world of my nephew and niece.

Sometimes that means taking an interest in the things they enjoy. Asking questions. Listening to their stories. Finding out what they are watching, playing or talking about. Not because I necessarily find all these things fascinating, but because they are important to them.

And sometimes, entering a child’s world can be rather humbling.

I had my own embarrassing experience with my P6 kids. I was talking with them in my U12 class when they started using a phrase I simply did not understand: “67.”

They seemed to know exactly what it meant. I, on the other hand, was completely lost.

I could have pretended that I understood. I could have nodded wisely and hoped nobody noticed.

Instead, I had to do the most humbling thing an adult can sometimes do with children:

I asked them what it meant!

“Okay, what does ‘67’ mean?”

And suddenly, they were the experts and I was the student.

It may seem like a small moment, but it reminded me of something important:

If we want to understand children, sometimes we have to admit that we don’t understand their world.

Their language, interests, concerns and ways of communicating may be very different from what we grew up with.

But asking questions opens a door.

When we ask, “What does that mean?”, “What are you playing?”, “Why do you like that?” or simply, “Tell me about it!”, we are saying to a child:

“Your world matters to me.”

And that is where relationships begin.

At our Teachers’ Gathering, one of the things we reflected on was “Welcome to My Life”, trying to see life from the eyes of a child.

That can be surprisingly difficult for adults.

We have our routines, experiences and assumptions about how things should be. We can easily look at children from our perspective and wonder:

“Why can’t they just listen?”

“Why are they so easily distracted?”

“Why don’t they understand?”

But perhaps a better question is:

“What does the world look like from where they are standing?”

A child who seems restless may be struggling to concentrate.

A child who keeps interrupting may simply want to be heard.

A child who seems withdrawn may be carrying worries they don’t know how to express.

A child who asks endless questions may be developing a growing curiosity about the world and about God.

When we slow down and look through their eyes, we begin to see the child differently.

Of course, entering their world does not mean agreeing with everything they say or allowing children to set all the rules. We are still called to teach, guide, correct and disciple them.

But building relationships with them is a bridge to give us greater opportunities to point children towards Jesus.

Because ultimately, children’s ministry is not about becoming experts in children.

It is about helping children know the One who knows them perfectly.

In a game, Player 1 is the person holding the main controller. Player 2 doesn’t take over the game. Player 2 comes alongside.

The same can be true in children’s ministry. Our children are the Player 1s.

They are growing up in a rapidly changing world. They are discovering who they are, learning how to relate to others and beginning to wrestle with questions about God, faith and life.

We can come alongside them. We can encourage them, listen to them, pray for them, teach them God’s Word and remind them of God’s faithfulness when they struggle.

Psalm 78:4 reminds us of our responsibility to the next generation:

“We will not hide these truths from our children; we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the Lord, about his power and his mighty wonders.”

That is the privilege of children’s ministry!

We are not simply looking after children while their parents attend church. We are helping to tell the next generation about the Lord, helping them discover the gospel and helping them grow in their knowledge and love of Jesus.

And this is not the responsibility of parents and teachers alone. It belongs to the whole church.

So here is the challenge: Would you consider becoming a Player 2?

You don’t have to be a professional teacher. You don’t have to have all the answers or be an expert with children.

You simply need a willingness to come alongside a child and say: “I’m here. I would like to go on this life adventure with you!”

Who knows? The child you encourage today may one day become the young person who serves Christ tomorrow.

Proverbs 22:6 reminds us:

“Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it.”

Perhaps God is calling you to step into their world, come alongside them, and be their Player 2!