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Let the Little Children Come

One of the things that I love about my church, Christ Church Nashville, is how they love on our children. The pastors all know and care about my children, and although Marella is a bit too young to grasp all of it, Reagan excitedly shouts their name when he sees any of them. He knows he is loved at church. He feels safe and secure at church. He thinks all the pastors and the church staff, from our Senior Pastor and on down, are his friends, and he's right.

A few weeks ago, one of our church members, a man who works with our youth, lost his wife. He showed up at church the next day, and I'm so glad he did. But while adults, myself included, may sometimes get lost in finding the right words to say, or worse, saying nothing out of fear of saying the wrong thing, our children in our church service, gathered around him and prayed for him.

I was standing in line with my husband to receive Communion, and I saw children -- maybe eight or ten of them -- laying their hands on this man and praying for him in his grief, and I lost it. I'm teary just thinking about it.

The faith of a child. Jesus Himself said,  "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." (Matt. 19:14)

I've heard that verse a lot, but it's only recently that I really understood it. I stumbled upon another verse, right before that verse, which I'm sure I've read time and time again, but I never really got it until recently.

Matthew 18:10: "See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven."

Did you read that? Did you get that?

"See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven."


Since I've grabbed hold of that verse, almost everything has changed in how I relate to my children. Because, maybe, just maybe, the veil between here and there, between Earth and Heaven, is thinnest when we are with children. If their angels are with my children, and also seeing the Father, then we are in a very real sense touching the face of God when we deal with children.

Isn't that AMAZING?

If the angels that surround my children always see the face of God, then that changes not only the big picture -- how I parent, how I relate to them, how I talk to them -- but it also changes the mundane. That third game of Chutes and Ladders, or that sixth story, or that time at the park when I want to be working suddenly seems like a spiritual act, maybe even an act of worship.

 (photo courtesy of Moments by Moser)

I wish I had Reagan's faith. This morning in Sunday School, when his teacher asked for prayer requests, he prayed that my little toe, which I injured Friday night, would get better. When I'm in a situation where we are giving prayer requests, I'm thinking about friends with illness, friends in grief, orphans all over the world. I'm not thinking about my toe. But to Reagan, it's a simple prayer request (and for the record, it feels much, much better today).

A couple years ago, when Reagan was two or maybe just turned three, a friend was having some vision problems. I told Reagan about it, and he wanted to pray for her, so we did. A couple days later, I told him that her vision problems went away. I was so excited, and he looked at me like he was confused, and said, "But Mommy, of course they did. We prayed for her, remember?"

Yes. 

I'll never, ever know the full story behind my brain tumor scare a couple years ago. I'll never know why two separate doctors told me it was behind my right eye, and why I had excruciating migraines, and then, suddenly, when a third doctor looked at the same scan the first two doctors looked at,  it was at the base of my skull and not behind my eye. 

I'll never know what really happened. It is entirely possible that two doctors read the scan wrong. It is. I don't question that.

But it's also possible that God heard the simple prayers of a two-year-old, who didn't know fancy words to use or the right combination of phrases to try and convince God to listen to him. All he knew was that he was home a lot with his Mommy who had to shut her eyes every night before Daddy got home, because the headaches were so bad, and he wanted the headaches to go away, so he prayed for God to take the tumor away.

I learn so much from my little boy. He has taught me more about grace and trust and faith than I have learned in a lifetime of sermons.

I want to be like Reagan. I want to have faith like him. I want to believe like him. And I want to be with him, and others like him, because maybe it's then that I fully understand the Father heart of God.

"See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven."