Several weeks ago, my team and I visited the preschool on our Care Point campus. In the dim, single classroom there were thirty kiddos, six or so at each table. Dressed in uniform, they are made to look the same, but I see them all as they truly are: unique, beautiful, and created in the image of God. Just look at those tiny, beaming smiles.
Almost immediately I noticed a boy at the table in front of me. He was throwing crayons around, sliding his friends’ papers onto the ground, and hitting the kids next to him.
At home, I work with littles much like this boy. Often the kids I work with at Brain Balance tend to lash out, exhibit anger, get into trouble at school, and sometimes use violence.
Others may see these children as problematic, attention-seeking, troublesome, bad.
Teachers will ask, “Why can’t they just behave?” Parents may question, “What did I do wrong?”
These are the kids that tug at my heart strings, the ones that captivate me. I see them as perfection: unique, beautiful, and created in the image of God. These kids are the ones I always gravitate toward, especially at ministry sites.
But not today. Today I just watched, observing the dynamics of the children I’d never visited before.
Lunch time rolled around, and the kids ran outside to eat on the front porch. Following lunch, they had recess on the playground. I walked out and sat on one of the tires that fenced in the equipment.
I was watching several girls on the swings, when out of nowhere, a boy in a dead sprint jumped into my arms and wrapped his little legs around my waist.
He totally caught me off-guard, almost knocking me over. It took me a moment to realize who this was: the same little boy that just minutes earlier was throwing and hitting. He sank in my lap, arms encircling my neck, laying his head down on my chest. He said nothing, wouldn’t even reveal his name. After a while, instinctively I started rocking him and singing Jesus Loves Me. To my surprise, little one lifted his head, stared at me, and started singing it right along with me.
Together, we stayed there for the next forty minutes of recess, singing the same lyrics time and time again, clinging to each other.
This boy had gone from angry and violent to a state of childlike innocence, refusing to leave my arms. What happened?
Jesus is a pretty cool dude. Later that night, He showed me what this was all about:
We are children of God: unique, beautiful, and created in His image.
In the dim and dark rooms of our lives, we struggle to see where God is. We hardly even notice Him standing in the corner, even though He sees us the entire time. He sees the front we put up, right past our lashing out, wrestling, and anger. He looks at us and see our hearts, our childlike innocence.
It’s not until we flee from the dark and run into the light that we truly see God for who He is: safe, trusted, loving. When we’re in the light, we’ll take one look at our Savior and it will be enough to captivate us.
We’ll end up in a dead sprint, jumping into His arms, clinging to Him with all our might, just as this sweet boy had done to me. Our fighting will cease, our hearts will soften, and we will relent into pure, undefiled innocence.
And you know what? The God that’s been watching and waiting for you will hug you right back. He will hold you endlessly. He’ll sing about how much He truly loves you. And He doesn’t need you to say a single word.
The most beautiful part of this story is this: EVERY SINGLE DAY after that visit, that little kiddo has found me at the Care Point, run to me, and jumped into my arms. We went two weeks ago.
Not to mention, there are sixty of us Racers at this Care Point, but he somehow finds me.
This little boy’s name is Simabelwe. He is six years old, lives 5 miles away (yes, he walks to school daily), and wants to be a police officer when he grows up.
He is bubbly, silly, and gentle. He loves to dance, and he’s got swag! He’s nurturing—when he sees my hair blowing in my face, he asks for my hair tie and puts it in a ponytail. He’s not shy, but rather full of life and joy. He’s got a smile that can light up a whole room.
Simabelwe is incredible: unique, beautiful, and created in the image of God.
I like to think that all this kiddo needed was a little touch from Jesus. He relented, trading his fighting for something a heck of a lot greater: love.
“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.’” Mark 10:14-15
