I like kids.
They smell like peanut butter and jelly, usually have something sticky covering 70% of their body, and their only cares in the world are deciding between grape and strawberry jelly, and defeating the bad guys with their superhero powers.
I can relate.
As I’ve traveled the globe, I have come to the realization that there is nothing as magical and powerful as a child.
In India, I encountered some beautiful little girls named Abigail, Anna, Fabie and Hazel.
Between the ages of 3 and 9, they walked with confidence, knowing for a fact that they are princesses, and dressing to fit their titles. They didn’t have a single lingering thought that they weren’t beautiful and perfectly created.
Abigail invited me to her 7th birthday party where we danced and ate cake and pretended to be Elsa and Anna.
Watching these girls at play was so magical and reminded me that adults tend to complicate things a little too much.
In Vietnam, we asked the Lord where to go. He brought us to a park in the middle of Ho Chi Minh City where we encountered some children with their parents.
The parents asked us for money, but the children asked us for attention. They wanted to skip through the park holding our hands and play tag.
They didn’t see our skin and assume we owed them anything. They just saw us as new friends to adventure with.
In Nepal, I met some beautiful little children in the neighboring village.
They bounced around in their pint-sized snow suits with big brown eyes and bigger smiles peeking through. I would spin them around and we would laugh for hours and play games.
They taught me that there is no language or social barrier on love and laughter.
In Cambodia, we worked with 25 of the most captivating kids I’ve ever met.
They all have a story that would make the world count them out.
They’re street kids who walk around naked with lice filled, matted hair.
They stay out begging all night and are seen as nothing more than pests in Cambodian society. Yet, they count themselves in.
They wake up at 5 am (without the help of parents) so we could pick them up, bathe them, bring them to school, teach them and care for them.
They exude sass and joy.
If you asked them what they wanted to be, most would say a teacher or a doctor or a lawyer or even a soccer player.
They had big dreams and weren’t about to let their circumstances hold them back.
Here in South Africa, the ministry we work with believes in the spirit of a child.
They hold after-school programs and the children come to hear the word of God.
They come to sing and dance for the Lord of Lords with more enthusiasm than I have ever seen in any circumstance in America.
They don’t come because they get food or because they have to; they come because they want to.
They make the conscious decision.
In this place 7 year olds are speaking in tongues and reciting chapters of the Bible from memory.
Kids are powerful.
They love intentionally. They don’t expect anything from you. They love unconditionally. They use their imaginations to fight evil. They are never stressed. They trust. They live from a perspective of innocence and purity, even in the midst of evil.
In my opinion, they are pretty wise and may be the best living example of what God intended for us at the beginning.
Maybe kids just get it. They don’t put up the imaginary barriers us adults have formed; barriers built around culture, skin color, money or social norms.
One thing I have learned from this trip is that this world underestimates children.
I accepted the Lord as a five-year old on Christmas Eve knowing that He existed and wanting Him to come into my life.
I understood.
Why do we think children don’t have the capacity to understand?
Why do we provide productions for them at church instead of teaching them the word?
They have power and faith that most adults can’t imagine.
Let’s stop wasting the wonder and abilities of kids and start equipping them for leadership.
Let’s teach them and let’s learn to be more like them.
“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:3
