There is a specific kind of heartbreak that happens in our rooms, and most of us never even see it.

Because it happens on the Sunday we are not there.

Every one of us has that kid. The one who picked us. The one whose whole face changes when they spot you across the room. The one who saves you the seat, who has to tell you about their week before they will even sit down, who reaches for your hand without thinking about it. If we are honest, that kid is the reason a lot of us keep showing up. Being somebody’s person is one of the best feelings in the world.

But now walk into the Sunday you are not there.

You are sick. You are traveling. Your own life just caved in for a week. And that kid comes through the doors and does what they always do. They scan the room for your face.

And you are not in it.

Sit in that moment with me, because this is the whole thing. What happens next? Does another leader already know that kid’s name? Does anyone else know they had a hard week, or that their parents are splitting up, or that they just need someone to notice they walked in? Or does that child stand in a room full of people and feel completely alone, because the one thread connecting them to this entire place was you, and today you are not here?

That is the moment that should wreck us a little. Not because we did anything wrong. We did everything right. We showed up, we were present, we became their person. But somewhere along the way, “their person” quietly became “their only person.” And a kid with only one thread is a kid one bad Sunday away from being lost in the crowd.

Here is the reframe worth carrying all week: Being a kid’s favorite leader is a gift. Being a kid’s only leader is a risk. And the most loving thing you can do is make sure you are never the only one.

That is the sub-principle we step into today: Move Them to Someone Else.

Now let me connect this to the kids actually walking in this weekend, because there is something true about them that makes this matter even more.

Here is the strange part: the kids in our rooms are not short on voices. They have more of them than any kids in history. They can tell you everything about their favorite YouTuber. They feel like they genuinely know the gamer they watch for hours, the influencer talking straight into the camera, the character who practically greets them by name.

But every one of those relationships is a one-way street. The screen talks at them. It never once learns their name. It never asks how their week was. It never notices when they are missing.

So our kids are growing up surrounded by voices, and almost none of those voices actually know them. What they are starving for is not one more personality to follow. It is a handful of real, live grown-ups who know their name, know their story, and keep quietly pointing them to Jesus.

That is exactly what we get to build. And it is exactly why you cannot be the only one.

Moving a kid to someone else simply means you refuse to hoard them. You loosen your grip on being their favorite so you can hand them a whole team. And since most of us are walking into brand-new groups right now, this is the perfect moment to build it in from the very first Sunday. It looks like introducing your kids to the other leaders in the room, so more than one adult knows their name. It looks like bragging on a kid to your co-leader, so someone else starts watching for them too. It looks like building a circle where, if you ever had to be gone, three other people would still notice the empty seat.

Do not hear this as caring less. It is the exact opposite. It is caring so much that you refuse to leave a kid hanging by a single thread. Because the kids whose faith actually lasts are almost never the ones who had one unforgettable leader. They are the ones who were surrounded by a handful of ordinary adults who all happened to point the same direction.

You are not enough to carry a kid’s faith by yourself. And the beautiful news is, you were never meant to be.

So here is what I want you to sit with this week, and I actually want to hear back from you.

Think about the kid we started with. The one who picks you. Then answer me this:

If you were out next Sunday, who is the one kid you would worry about most? And who is one other adult you could pull in this month so you would never have to worry about them again?

Text me. Send me that kid’s name and the adult you are thinking of. I want to help you widen that circle. Because we are not building single threads this year. We are building nets.