The Faith of a Child

My son Chase....to say that he has an enormous heart would be an understatement.  He loves school and boy, does this child love church.  His understanding of God is simple and solid. God made me?  Cool.  What are we having for lunch?

In adult land, that would be an example of potentially not hearing the message, or maybe even brushing you off.  However, this child literally accepts it as it is.  God made me.  Check.  Next question.  What's my next meal?  Oh? God is providing it?  That's nice of Him.  What is it?  The reason I know he is solid in this is that the very next day, he says "What did God provide for my lunch today, Mom?"  (This was a time when I was muttering under my breath that nobody in this house brings their dishes to the sink, and this apparently was enough to tick me off.  Redirection from a 4 year old is always humbling.)

A few months ago, as he and I finished a Bible story, I told him about asking Jesus into his heart and the idea that when he was ready, then God would be with him forever in his heart.  Chase wanted to do it.  So, he prayed for Jesus to come into his heart.  It brought tears to my eyes, but as I'm always the skeptic, I anticipated we would have this discussion again and again until he remembered.  My adult brain ruins a lot of things. 

This week I drove Chase to school.  We talked about what he learned at church on Sunday, and he then said, very matter of factly "Mom.  Guess what?  (Insert BFF's name from preschool here) said there is no God."  I think I actually prayed in that moment something very crass, like "Holy crap, God.  I am not ready."  The Spirit is still working on me, if you can't tell. 

So I responded "What do you think about that, Chase?"  And Chase looked at me and said "I'm sad for him.  I told him that there is a God, but he said no."  So as an adult, I think this is my time to turn, look the child in the eye and say firmly "Chase.  I know with all my heart that there is a God and He loves you. "  Chase looks back at me, and says, as if he can't believe I even needed to say this...."Mom, I know.  Remember in the playroom when I said that prayer?  He's in my heart.  Remember mom?"  

So now I'm all worried that he's running around preschool yelling at little kids that God exists.  So I say "Chase, even if (insert BFF's name here) doesn't believe in God, we are always kind and love people regardless. Right?"  Again, Chase looks at me as if I just don't understand.  "Yes, mom.  I'm not angry at him.  Just sad.  But we still play on the swing.  Today we are going to play in the shop area.  Where do birds sleep at?  Where do bears sleep?  Do they have blankets or does the fur keep them warm?  Birds don't have fur.  They have feathers."   I exhale and feel ridiculous.  "Yep, they do have feathers." 

I feel blessed beyond words to see faith develop in children.  And when I say "develop", this is really just inaccurate.  My own faith is developing because while a child just takes it as it is, I have questions that somebody has to answer.  Anxiety.  Fear.  Pessimism.  Anger.  Stupidity.  It all gets in the way.  Chase, on the other hand just blows me away every time.  Chase has much to teach me.

Luke 18:15-17: People were also bringing babies to Jesus for him to place his hands on them. When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. ¹⁶ But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. ¹⁷ Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

On Blessings...

I've been thinking a great deal about the title of this blog...on the idea that this would be a place that I would talk about all the blessings in our life.  And yet, I'm drawn to writing about how my kids draw with markers on themselves, flush my coat down the toilet, lock themselves in the bathroom, etc.

(For the record, this all occurred within the last 48 hours.  But I digress.)

This all comes to mind because I heard about a woman who was in a car accident and lost all three of her children, under the age of 5 years old (on Oprah, naturally).  She spoke about how it was so horrible to come home to the quiet space of her house full of toys...how she couldn't stand to hear children playing because of the sheer amount of grief....how she was shaken to the core with respect to her identity and her purpose. 

I also know that women out there look at this time in their life and miss it.  I know I will miss this.  I know that I will look back at this craziness and think that this span of time was one of the highlights of my life.  It's interesting to me that with great blessings comes great responsibility.  The longer I focus on the responsibility, the more I lose the blessing part.  I hate that.  I've also been thinking a lot about the idea that motherhood forms women over time, and thinking about all the great women I know who have come out the other side with patience, a serving attitude, the knowledge that sacrifice is just the start of love, and the natural perspective of selflessness. 

I think my damage at this point is that I'm still self-centered, focused on how my needs are second, and wishing that people would buy me stuff.  Lots of stuff.  In honor of my selflessness.  With a plaque.  And possibly a song about my awesome humility.   

See, I have a ways to go. 

Last week, Justin started preschool.  The first day went great and the second day he had a lot of trouble with me leaving.  He snuggled up on my lap, buried his head into my shirt, and cried "mommy, please don't go."  This in turn made me cry, and ultimately my two year old and I sat in the middle of his classroom and sobbed. (Super embarrassing, but beautiful all the same.)  I know there will be a time when I wish more than anything that he would say "mommy, please don't go."  I am so grateful to be a mommy and if, by the end of their time in my home, every piece of furniture is colored, the toilet is forever broken and there isn't a single doorknob in the house, I pray that I will remain grateful and focused.  And sane.  And sober.