I used to think event success was simple. Count how many people showed up, subtract the number of major disasters, and if more good things happened than bad things, call it a win.
Turns out measuring success is way more complicated than that. Also way more interesting.
Last spring we had this family movie night that looked like a complete failure on paper. Projector died fifteen minutes in, half the popcorn got burned, and it started raining so hard we couldn't hear the backup audio we switched to.
But three months later, kids were still talking about it. Not the movie - nobody remembered what we were supposed to watch. They remembered how we all ended up sitting in circles telling stories when the technology failed. How parents started sharing embarrassing childhood stories. How it turned into this weird, wonderful evening that nobody planned but everyone loved.
Was that successful? Depends how you measure it.
The Numbers Game That Doesn't Tell the Whole Story
I spent years obsessing over attendance numbers like they meant something definitive.
"Thirty-seven people came to family game night!" Sounds impressive until you realize twelve of those were toddlers who spent most of the evening crying or trying to eat game pieces.
"Only fifteen families at the spring picnic." Sounds disappointing until you consider that those fifteen families actually talked to each other, kids played together across age groups, and two families who'd never connected before exchanged phone numbers.
Numbers are easy to count but they don't capture what actually matters.
Like the mom who told me our Valentine's party was the first time her shy daughter willingly participated in group activities. Or the dad who said game night gave him an excuse to actually spend time with other families instead of just dropping kids off and leaving.
Those conversations don't show up in attendance spreadsheets but they're probably more important than head counts.
Though I still count heads. Because my pastor asks and because tracking trends over time tells you something useful. Just not everything.
When "Disasters" Actually Make Events Better
Our fall festival two years ago was supposed to be this elaborate outdoor carnival. Games, bounce house, face painting, the whole production.
It rained. Not just drizzled - proper storm with wind and everything.
Moved the whole thing inside last minute. Crammed carnival games into the fellowship hall. No bounce house because ceiling height. Face painting got relocated to the nursery because it was the only room with decent lighting.
Should have been a disaster. Kids running around in too-small spaces, parents stepping on each other, chaos everywhere.
But something weird happened. Being squished together forced people to actually interact. Parents helped with games that weren't their responsibility because they were standing right there. Kids had to share space and take turns more than usual.
Felt more like a community block party than a church event. In the best way.
So was the weather a failure or the thing that made it work? Still not sure.
What Kids Remember vs What Adults Notice
Asked our elementary kids what their favorite part of summer kickoff was. Expected them to say the games or the prizes or the ice cream.
Nope. Favorite part was when Mrs. Johnson's lawn chair collapsed and she ended up sitting on the ground laughing so hard she couldn't get up.
That moment lasted maybe thirty seconds. But it's what they remembered three months later.
Adults remember different stuff. Whether the event started on time. If there was enough food. Whether their kids behaved appropriately.
Kids remember moments that felt real. When someone was genuinely funny or kind or surprised. When something unexpected happened that turned into a story.
Which kind of memory matters more for measuring success? Probably depends what you're trying to accomplish.
The Follow-Up That Actually Tells You Something
Used to think immediate feedback was most accurate. Ask people what they thought while they're walking out the door, get honest responses.
But immediate reactions don't always predict long-term impact.
People leave events feeling good because they're relieved nothing went wrong and their kids had fun. A week later they might realize it was actually pretty forgettable.
Or the opposite - leave feeling frustrated because of parking hassles or timing issues, but two weeks later remember how much their kid laughed or how welcomed they felt.
Started asking for feedback a few days later instead of right after events. "Now that you've had time to think about it, how was Saturday night for your family?"
Get different answers that way. More thoughtful responses. Less influenced by whether they're tired or stressed about getting kids home for bedtime.
Though some people forget to respond if you wait too long. Everything's a tradeoff.
When Parents Say "Fine" But Mean Something Else
Parents are weirdly polite about church events. Even when things go badly.
Had this Valentine's party where literally everything went wrong. Craft supplies didn't arrive, backup activities were too young for half the kids, and someone forgot to bring the promised cookies so dessert was stale crackers from the supply closet.
Asked parents how it went. Got lots of "Oh, it was fine!" and "Kids had fun!"
But noticed that several families left early. Fewer people signed up for the next event. General enthusiasm felt... different.
Took me months to figure out that "fine" often means "disappointing but I don't want to hurt your feelings."
Now I ask more specific questions. "What worked well? What would you change?" Gets more useful responses than "How was it?"
And I pay attention to behavior, not just words. Are people staying for the whole event? Signing up for future things? Talking positively about experiences weeks later?
Actions tell you more than polite responses sometimes.
The Volunteer Reality Check
Best indicator of event success might be volunteer willingness to help again.
Volunteers see everything. The planning stress, the behind-the-scenes chaos, the moments when you're pretty sure everything's falling apart.
If volunteers enjoyed themselves enough to sign up for the next event, something went right. If they're suddenly too busy to help with future things, that tells you something too.
Had this summer cookout that looked successful from the outside. Good attendance, kids playing happily, parents chatting and relaxed.
But three of my regular volunteers mentioned afterward that they felt overwhelmed and unprepared. Too many last-minute changes, unclear responsibilities, not enough coordination.
Those volunteers didn't sign up to help with fall festival. Had to recruit entirely new people.
Event might have been fun for families but it wasn't sustainable for the people making it happen. That's a kind of failure even when everything else goes well.
What Success Looks Like in Real Life
Best events I've organized don't feel perfect while they're happening.
There's always something going wrong. Kid meltdowns, equipment failures, timing issues, adults who complain about things you can't control.
But successful events have this feeling - hard to describe but you know it when you see it. People lingering instead of rushing to leave. Kids asking when the next one will be. Parents actually talking to each other instead of just supervising their own kids.
Sometimes success looks like organized chaos where everyone's having fun despite problems.
Sometimes it's quiet connection - smaller group but deeper conversations and genuine relationships forming.
Sometimes it's kids being brave or kind or creative in ways they don't usually show.
Numbers matter for planning and budgeting. But the real measure of success is whether people feel more connected to your ministry and each other afterward.
Learning from the Complete Disasters
Our biggest failure taught me more than any success ever did.
Planned this elaborate science-themed VBS with experiments and demonstrations and all kinds of hands-on activities. Spent months preparing. Had detailed schedules, backup plans, coordinated volunteers.
First day: half the experiments didn't work. Kids got frustrated, parents got worried about safety, volunteers got stressed trying to fix things that couldn't be fixed.
By day three we'd abandoned most of the planned activities and were basically doing glorified craft time with science-themed coloring pages.
Should have been humiliating. And it was, kind of.
But kids kept coming. Parents didn't pull them out. And on the last day, one mom mentioned that her daughter had been excited all week about coming to church.
Not because of the science stuff. Because she liked the teachers and felt safe trying new things even when they didn't work out.
That failure taught me that kids care more about feeling accepted and encouraged than about perfect programming.
Changed how I plan everything now. Less focus on impressive activities, more attention to creating environments where kids feel valued and welcomed.
Metrics That Actually Matter
Started tracking different things after that science VBS disaster.
Still count attendance but also note how long families stay. Are people rushing out or hanging around talking?
Ask kids direct questions about their experience. "What made you excited to come back?" "When did you feel proud of yourself?" Get better insights than asking parents what their kids thought.
Pay attention to repeat attendance. Are the same families coming to multiple events or different people each time? Both can be good but they tell you different things about what you're accomplishing.
Notice family connections. Are people exchanging contact information? Making plans outside of church events? Kids asking for playdates with church friends?
Track volunteer satisfaction and retention. Are people eager to help again or finding excuses to avoid future commitments?
But honestly, the best measure of success is subjective and hard to quantify. It's the feeling in the room. The stories people tell afterward. The way kids' faces light up when you mention upcoming events.
You know success when you see it, even if you can't put it in a spreadsheet.
Resources That Help With the Real Stuff
Some curriculum companies actually understand that success isn't just about smooth execution.
Orange has good resources for building family connections that last beyond individual events. Their approach focuses on relationship-building, which is harder to measure but probably more important.
Kids Sunday School Place includes evaluation tools that ask about more than just logistics. Group's DIG IN has practical ways to assess spiritual impact, not just attendance.
Grow Curriculum takes a modern approach to measuring engagement that goes beyond traditional metrics. They understand that success looks different for different families.
Gospel Project includes resources for follow-up and long-term connection, which helps you see actual impact instead of just immediate reactions.
But the best evaluation tool is honest conversation with families you trust to give you real feedback. People who'll tell you when something isn't working and why.
What I Actually Know About Success
Good events create stories people want to tell and experiences people want to repeat.
Perfect execution doesn't guarantee meaningful impact. Smooth logistics don't automatically build community.
Sometimes the most successful events are the ones where something goes wrong but people feel cared for in how you handle the problems.
Kids remember feeling important and included more than they remember specific activities.
Parents come back when they feel welcomed and when their kids are genuinely happy.
Volunteers stick around when they feel appreciated and when their contributions matter.
Success is messier and more complicated than attendance numbers suggest. But it's also more interesting and more meaningful.
The events that look perfect on paper aren't always the ones that make lasting impact.
And sometimes the disasters turn into the stories people treasure most.
Measure what matters. But remember that what matters most is usually harder to count than what's easy to measure.
