I chose Ian, an 11 year old boy, to be one of my prayer partners during my time in the World Race. I was his nanny for the last three years. He is a very unique child-scruffy on the outside, kind and compassionate on the inside. We have become very close over the last few years which made our parting very difficult. In order to ease the pain, and to guarantee regular contact, we agreed to pray with each other throughout the year. I assumed that our emails and prayers would be simple and sweet, but God had/has bigger plans for us.
Ian takes his role very seriously. He is interested in the whole prepartion process. He asks what/when tasks need to be done. He checks in to see how I’m feeling and lets me know that he prays for me during his nightly prayers. He pays attention to make sure that he is not missing anything important. A few weeks ago, Ian noticed that I was reading a new book. He asked if it was a required reading for the World Race. I informed him that it was not, but that there were some books that I did need to read. Ian, the avid reader, quickly started firing questions, “What are the titles? What are they about? Are they any good?” Smiling, I answered that I had not yet ordered them. I thought they looked only mildly interesting but many of my teammates thought they were great. I told him that I wasn’t sure if I would agree. Then with a very serious face he said, “It seems to me like you are having trouble trusting your teammates.” I just stared at him. With his eyes wide he warmly looked right back at me. What innocence! What truth! In a seemingly simple sentence my fears had been pin-pointed. I was nervous. I realized how anxious I was about leaving the familiar-all the places and people who had become staples in my daily life. I was now going to meet new people-people who were to be my co-workers, roommates, and friends. I feared that we would be too different; we couldn’t understand each other or wouldn’t want too. I was afraid and he called me out. In the innocent eyes of that 11 year old boy I got a glimpse of our loving father. He identified my fears, ones I wasn’t even aware I had. And he called it out not in judgment, but in love.
I believe in the faith of a child. I believe in faith like a child.
