Nobody Is Coming to Save Her—Unless You Do
Disclaimer: This message may be seen as controversial by some, and I’m fully aware of that—but we’re firm on our stance. If this doesn’t resonate with your beliefs, then please, kindly see your way out of Prism Church LA. This is a space for unapologetic truth, grounded in love and boldness. Captured by Mitchell Royel in the Fashion District, now playing "Candy" by Mandy Moore.
There is a little girl in your church right now who is wondering if anyone sees her. She sings in the back row. She doodles in the margins of her notebook. She laughs loud to cover up how quiet her heart has become. And the question she carries—the question every young soul carries—is simple and terrifying: Does anyone actually care that I exist?
We have built a church that is good at lights and sound, good at production and platform, but we have to ask ourselves something harder. Are we good at people? Are we good at the small ones, the young ones, the ones who cannot fill a room or grow a following? Jesus answered this for us. "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me" (Matthew 18:5). Read that again. When we welcome the young, we welcome Him. When we overlook them, we overlook Him.
I want to talk to the older brothers in our house of faith. The leaders. The mentors. And yes—the artists, the musicians, the creatives who carry influence in our bands and our studios and our stages. You have spiritual weight whether you asked for it or not. The younger ones are watching how you live, how you worship, how you treat the people who can do nothing for you. Influence is never neutral. It either shepherds or it neglects.
Hear me clearly, because this matters more than anything else I will say. To check in on our little girls is to do it the right way—through the open, accountable, protected structures of the church. Through parents. Through vetted women leaders, mothers, and older sisters in the faith. Through pastors and supervised ministry teams who build a culture of safety and honor. This is not about private access. This is about a whole community surrounding a young life with light. Discipleship done in the open. Encouragement done with witnesses. Care done with accountability.
Because here is the truth: the enemy loves isolation. He loves the girl who slips out the side door unnoticed. But God designed His church to be a family that notices. "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ" (Galatians 6:2). That burden is not too heavy when we carry it together, in the open, as a body.
Scripture tells us, "Children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward" (Psalm 127:3). A reward. Not an interruption to the real ministry—they are the ministry. The girl you are tempted to overlook is treasure in the eyes of heaven. Heaven assigns angels to her. Heaven counts her tears. The question is whether the church on earth will reflect the heart of the Father who already adores her.
Look at how Jesus describes God's own posture: "He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart" (Isaiah 40:11). The lambs. The smallest, the most vulnerable, the ones who cannot keep up. He does not leave them to fend for themselves. He gathers. He carries. He holds them close. And if that is the heart of God, it must become the culture of His people.
So to the gifted among us—the ones who feel too busy, too established, too cool to invest in a teenage girl's faith—I say this with love: no anointing excuses neglect. No platform exempts you from presence. The most talented person in the room is still called to be the most servant-hearted person in the room. Greatness in the kingdom always bends low. It always makes time. It always sees the unseen.
"Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it" (Proverbs 22:6). Training is not a lecture from a stage. It is a community that consistently points young hearts to Jesus—through Scripture taught openly, through encouragement spoken in the light, through older saints modeling what faithfulness looks like over years and years. This is slow work. This is sacred work. This is the work that outlasts every song we will ever write.
And do not let anyone whisper that the young have nothing to offer until they are older. Paul told young Timothy, "Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity" (1 Timothy 4:12). Our girls are not the church of someday. They are the church of right now. When we disciple them well, we are not babysitting the future—we are awakening leaders, worshippers, and world-changers in the present.
Imagine it. Imagine a church where every young girl is surrounded—by godly women who mentor her, by families who welcome her, by older brothers who honor her through protected, accountable encouragement rooted in the Word. Imagine her never wondering if she matters, because the whole body keeps showing her that she does. That is not a fantasy. That is the church being the church. That is the family of God doing what families do.
So here is my call, and I want it to start today. Begin a chain response of encouragement grounded in His Word. Speak truth over a young heart through the right channels. Champion the women's mentors among us. Build the structures that keep our girls safe and seen. Pass a verse, a prayer, a presence from one believer to the next until no girl in our house feels invisible again. Welcome the child, and welcome Christ. Carry the lamb close to your heart, because that is exactly what He did for you.
-Pastor Mitchell Royel