Andy Kind: “Your children are the main characters in your story — you’re just the prologue”

Andy, tell us a bit about yourself

I was born in Birmingham, spent the first three years of my life in Kidderminster, and then Mum and Dad moved to Newcastle-under-Lyme. It was agreed that as a three-year-old I’d go with them — along with my little sister, who was one and a half at the time! Mum and Dad have lived there ever since, and although I’ve moved around quite a bit, I’ve been back here for the last three and a half years. It’s home again.

I was raised in a Christian home, but not an evangelical one. Mum and Dad are both first-generation believers. My mum’s mum was a Christadelphian, but Mum became a born-again Christian in the late ’70s or early ’80s, and Dad, who’s always been quieter and less demonstrative, came to faith around the same time. They were part of the charismatic movement in the ’80s, which they eventually got a bit burned by, as many did.

I grew up with faith around me

So, I grew up with faith around me, but I never went to Spring Harvest or things like that, and I didn’t have a single Christian friend until I was 24. I became a Christian in my early twenties, largely through my mum’s influence — though I’ve realised since that my dad had a big influence too, just in a different way.

I had a lovely childhood, almost perfect really. I studied modern languages at university, came out not knowing what to do next, but felt drawn to comedy. Within a year of graduating I started performing and have been doing it ever since — over twenty years now. I’ve also been writing for about fifteen years, preaching for ten, and for the last couple of years I’ve hosted Unbelievable?

After university I moved around quite a bit — Manchester, Huddersfield, Chesterfield — and now I’m back where I started. I have two children, Alice, was born in 2012, and my second, Heidi, in 2015.

What was your childhood like?

I honestly don’t know anyone who had a happier childhood than I did. There was a lot of laughter and a lot of love. Dad could be stern at times — he was of that generation that had been raised pretty strictly – But there was never any doubt about how much he loved us.

There was always an emphasis on working hard, achieving, doing well. My parents wanted us to succeed, and though I’ve done well in my own way, I probably haven’t been successful in quite the way they imagined! We weren’t a churchy family, so being a vicar or a missionary wasn’t ever something that would have occurred to them as a mark of success.

between them I’ve inherited Mum’s spiritual passion and Dad’s steadiness

Mum and Dad’s home was — and still is — a wonderful place to be. They did so much for us, and the older I get the more I realise what they sacrificed. The things that seemed unfair when I was young now make perfect sense. My sister and I often talk about it — how lucky we were, how well they did. It was a good, steady, loving English household.

Dad worked in the health service and later in the prison service in management, so he carried a lot of responsibility. Mum was a teacher — outgoing, joyful, the life of the room. For years I thought my desire to perform came from her, but then I saw an old video of Dad giving a speech at my sister’s wedding and realised he could command a room too. I think we’re all mixtures of our parents, and as I’ve got older I’ve definitely grown more like my dad — which I see as a good thing.

How have your parents shaped your faith?

My mum is a very prophetic woman. Over many years she shared pictures and verses with me that were so specific and accurate that I couldn’t doubt the reality of Jesus, even before I understood it. I’d say her prayers have been a shield over our family.

Dad’s faith is quieter, more reserved, but deeply rooted. He’s very honourable — the sort of man who puts others first and never plays the victim. I’ve realised that when I talk about wanting to be a “gentleman”, what I really mean is wanting to be a disciple: someone who honours people, protects the vulnerable, bears wrongs patiently and keeps their private and public life consistent – like my dad.

Read more:

Ed Drew: “Parenting isn’t complicated: love them, listen to them, keep them safe, and point them to Jesus”

James Cary: “Parenting has taught me patience, sacrificial love, and intentionality”

Natalie Williams: “what you model and invest in, even when life is hard, can build something in your children that lasts”

So, between them I’ve inherited Mum’s spiritual passion and Dad’s steadiness. They probably wouldn’t agree with me on everything, but the older I get, the more I feel I’ve come home to the roots they gave me.

What would you thank your parents for most?

That they stayed together. There was never any danger of them not doing so, but that’s the thing I’m most grateful for. They’ve been married for decades and have lived in the same house since 1984. That sense of stability has meant everything.

Because they’ve always been united, there’s never been conflicting advice or divided loyalties. Home has always been one place — emotionally, geographically, spiritually. That unity has made me and my sister feel totally safe and secure.

My parents’ house feels a bit like Rivendell in The Lord of the Rings — a place of rest and refuge, the last place to fall

We’ve had problems as a family, of course but my sister and I often talk about how that security shaped us. We’ve never really struggled with mental health issues, not because we’re special, but because our parents created such a solid foundation of love and consistency.

It’s given me a deep sense of what “home” means — not just physically, but spiritually. My parents’ house feels a bit like Rivendell in The Lord of the Rings — a place of rest and refuge, the last place to fall. It’s helped me understand heaven as home.

What’s being a dad like for you?

My children are the loves of my life — the only non-negotiables. They’re both the great challenge and the great joy.

I dedicated my book Curious Tales of Redemption “to Alice Rose and Heidi Grace, who are by far my favourite stories.” Being their dad has taught me what unconditional love really means. It’s the best argument I know for the existence of God, because that love mirrors his love for us.

When you hold your own child, you realise what it means that God loves us unconditionally. You’d do anything for them — even die for them — and that reflects the heart of the gospel better than any sermon could.

And what’s been difficult about fatherhood?

I’ve loved every stage of their lives, but the challenge has been parenting after separation. My ex-wife and I haven’t always been a house united, and it’s hard when you’re trying to raise children with different approaches or from a distance.

That said, the girls themselves have always been a delight. They are kind, curious, and full of life.

How have you tried to nurture their faith?

The big win for us has been watching The Chosen together. It’s brilliant for starting conversations, helping them see Jesus not just as a historical figure but as someone living and acting in the world.

I’ve also started doing short Bible studies with them. Heidi’s ten, so she sometimes finds it a bit dull, but Alice is really interested. Alice and I are also writing letters to each other — she asks me questions about God and life, and I write back. I’m hoping to turn those letters into a book one day.

That’s what I want my daughters to see — that Christ is the fulfilment of every longing in every story

Church life is complicated because I am divorced and our handover day is Sunday, so girls aren’t part of a regular church at the moment, so I try to weave faith into our everyday life — what we watch, read, or talk about. When we read or watch stories, I’ll ask: “What’s this saying about love, sacrifice, hope? Where can we see God in that?”

Alice is a big reader, so we talk about the themes in her books and how they connect with the gospel story. Heidi meets God through nature and animals. I love that they both connect with faith in different ways.

My approach to evangelism and parenting is the same: every good story points to the one true story of Jesus. The gospel is the seed from which all stories grow, whether people realise it or not. That’s what I want my daughters to see — that Christ is the fulfilment of every longing in every story.

If you could give advice to yourself before becoming a dad, what would you say?

I’d tell myself three things:

1. Your unconditional love for your children is inevitable, but nothing else is.
2. Your children are the main characters in your story — you’re just the prologue.
3. Because you’re the prologue, your desire for happiness has to pass to them. Life isn’t a story about you; you have to die to self.