“And they were bringing children to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them.”
Mark 10:13-16
This month, we are working with and living in a children’s home. When we first showed up at the home, I was like, “Oh man” because they took to us like white on rice. All of these children ran up to us and hugged us and looked at us and played with us. It was completely overwhelming.
But a few days in, reflecting back, I saw the beauty of that. It made me think about the qualities that children have that I don’t have, especially in my relationship with the Lord. And it made me wonder, when did I lose the acceptance, and love, and faith of a child?
The children here in this home immediately accepted us for who we are. They didn’t know a single thing about us, yet they came to us knowing that they would love us, and we them. They can’t understand a single thing that we say, yet they trust us to teach them, play with them, and keep them safe. This morning at church, I was flipping this little girl upside down, and she trusted me to make sure she got rightside up, because she didn’t have the strength to do it herself.
There’s so much beauty and truth in each of these things.
When I come before the Lord, I come wanting complete understanding and complete knowledge. I’m not okay that I don’t know His every aspect. It seems that God and I speak very different languages, and rather than trusting Him to teach me, love me, and keep me safe, I fight for comprehension, for knowledge of the little details, rather than taking in the whole picture. And when He turns my world upside down, I scream out of fear, flailing my arms and legs, trying to get myself upright, making the situation harder for me, harder for those around me, instead of trusting the Lord to make sure I get back up in time. I can say and know and preach about how God’s plans are better, higher, perfect, but to believe that is completely different.
Our team tries to have a consistent quiet time each day. Marge was in her bed in her room with the door closed, and one of the girls spotted her through the window. Her face immediately lit up, and she ran in, opened the door, and climbed right up in bed with her, knowing that Marge would take her in.
She didn’t feel a need to prove herself. All she felt was the joy in being accepted. And we are even more accepted by God. We are HIS children, and we don’t need to prove ourselves to be worthy of that. We may continually fail, sin, and let Him down, but God knows that about us. He’s not surprised, nor does He get annoyed. God never needs His space to recharge from us.
Rather, I’m realizing, the distance, or lack of worth, or need to prove ourselves, or do everything ourselves, comes from us ignoring the truths that the Lord declares about us. He says that we are HIS children. We are SO loved. We are ENOUGH. We are BEAUTIFUL.
And it’s one of those things that seems like it should be so easy, because God is the perfect father, but it’s not. At some point, I lost that childlike faith. I lost the ability to believe beyond a shadow of a doubt in things. And I’m betting you did too.
But I also think that there’s an importance in the search of why? Where is the cause of the doubt, the mistrust? What is keeping us from inheriting the kingdom? We don’t want to be like the disciples, thinking that we’ve got it all figured out, but rather, we want to be the children, taken into Jesus’ arms and blessed, for simply coming as they are.
