Raising Kids in Faith: Not “If” But “When”
Before our children were born, my husband and I received a powerful piece of parenting wisdom: Surround your kids with a community of Christ-followers—because it’s not a question of if your voice will stop being the loudest in their lives, but when.
That truth stayed with us, and when we became parents, we took it to heart. We dedicated our daughter and son to the Lord, trusting that our church family would stand beside us—encouraging, supporting, and strengthening not only our faith but theirs as well, in every season of life.
When you raise your children in the church, your constant prayer echoes the wisdom of Proverbs—to fill their hearts with the knowledge of Christ so that when they are old, they will not depart from it. You hold tightly to the big moments—salvation, baptism, and their personal walk with Jesus. But the truth is, faith isn’t built in just the milestones. It’s shaped in the everyday moments, through the people and circumstances that quietly mold their hearts and guide their steps well beyond childhood. That’s why surrounding them with believers who love, encourage, and walk alongside them isn’t just important—it’s essential. In some seasons, it may even be life-saving.
No matter how much you read, prepare, pray—and let’s be honest—plan, and panic, nothing truly prepares you for the unexpected moments of parenting. If someone had told me that my joyful, light-filled son would one day walk through a season of deep darkness, I would have made the one mistake every parent should never make: saying, “Never. Not my kid.”
Middle school proved me wrong. And I learned the hard way—darkness doesn’t come with a warning. It just shows up.
I always imagined that the if vs. when parenting advice would come up during teenage heartbreaks, friendship struggles, or those “my mom is driving me crazy” moments. I never expected it to hit me in a moment when my child didn’t question my love or that of Jesus—but instead felt like that love wasn’t enough.
When the world’s voices grow louder—when criticism from peers and the weight of self-doubt drown out everything else—a parent’s voice can feel distant, even silent. And sometimes, even knowing Jesus, even believing in His salvation, still isn’t the assurance their heart is desperately searching for. No matter how many times we say, "You are loved, you are special, you are enough," the sheer volume of fear and shame can overpower it. And in those moments, “but my mom thinks I’m special”—or even “but Jesus loves me”—doesn’t always stand a chance against the noise.
As our son began to open up about his struggles, our deepest desire was to keep him close—to surround him with love and lean into the community God had been weaving around him since the day he was born.
In a way only God could orchestrate, a simple, offhanded invitation to volunteer with the creative team at LCC became an unexpected and very real lifeline. It seems silly to say, but handing a kid a camera changed everything. In His perfect timing, Christ used a group of men to step in to our son’s life—not with grand gestures, but with steady presence, genuine care, and encouragement. Their example, their time, their attention—their voices—became louder than the desperation, reminding our son that he was seen and valued. I don’t think they had any idea at the time that their kindness, patience, and willingness to show up didn’t just fill a role—they changed a life.
That change didn’t happen overnight. The shift was anything but instant. But now, with the fog lifted and our son standing more confidently in who he is—and more importantly, whose he is—we can look back on that season with fresh perspective.
I may never fully move past the what ifs that still catch my breath, the moments when I realize just how easily that chapter could have taken a devastating turn. Our son has a story to tell, and one day, in his own way, he will share it. But here’s what I know beyond a doubt: Not a single day will pass where I don’t carry an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the community that quite literally saved my child. And though I’ve tried, no words of thanks will ever be enough to express what they did for him—for us.
What I can do is share the one piece of advice that made all the difference: Surround your kids with a community of Christ-followers. Because it’s not a matter of if your voice will stop being the loudest in their lives—it’s when. And when that time comes, you’ll want to know that the voices rising to meet them speak truth, grace, and the unwavering love of Jesus.
Jen Denton, her husband, and two children are long-time residents of the Lowcountry and active members of LCC. Jen serves on the communication and creative arts teams. Jen has an extensive background in education and currently creates professional development opportunities for educators worldwide.