Childlike Faith

When you're a parent, life becomes less about your own red-letter days & more about those of your children. You wait with anticipation for their first words (which, I fear, for my littlest little is most assuredly going to be "Dada") and their first wobbly, tottering steps. You cheer them on as they lose the training wheels, sound out words, and attempt to do all sorts of things following the statement, "Mom, I can do it by myself!" Though it's unimaginable for me right now, you teach them to drive, watch them graduate, walk down the aisle into a marriage, and have babies of their own (Okay, where are my tissues?). Yes, as parents we have the unique privilege of going through life alongside our children as they experience all manner of milestones, transitions, and accomplishments. As great as those things may be, this past weekend I bore witness to the most special, important red-letter day of all: little man asked Jesus to be his forever friend, to be the leader and forgiver of his life.

At this point, you're either celebrating this decision with me, thinking, "What the heck is the big deal?" or maybe even thinking, "This family is crazy!" (which is actually entirely, irrefutably true). If you're one of the latter, then let's make believe for a minute or two. Let's pretend like there's a decision that your child, your baby, could make that would bring with it all of the benefits that we believe come with salvation. In an instant, your child would have a peace that passes all understanding, peace within the midst of any heartache or struggle or loss; access to God, the creator and sustainer of the universe, the worker of miracles, the compassionate healer, the friend of the unlovely and lonely; hope; the ability to find a sense of meaning and significance in suffering; a purpose that directs his steps and allows him to live intentionally; love that is unfathomable, unconditional, and unwavering; freedom from condemnation for any past or future mistakes; a rich abundant life on earth and an eternity in a heaven that is far greater than anything we could ask for or imagine, where there are no tears, no fears, and no suffering. However I may fail as a parent, I can rest confidently in the knowledge that my son is now-and-forevermore a beautiful, wonderful, child of God.

Wouldn't you want that for your child? Wouldn't you want that for yourself? Friends, life's a blink, a vapor that appears today and vanishes tomorrow. Invest in what matters. Don't be too afraid of offending people, or worried about what they might think of you, or shy, or embarrassed, or unsure of what to say (read: a big fat weenie like me) Be exuberant, unashamed, and bold like my five-year-old who wants to proudly proclaim to his Nana, Papa, Gammy, Grunkle, Yaya, Aunts, Uncles, neighbors, friends, teachers, and the check-out lady in the grocery store, "I'M A CHRISTIAN! HOW COOL IS THAT?" Undeniably, childlike faith at its finest hour.