The Treasures

“But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart” (Luke 2:19, New International Version, 2010)

I’ve spent a lot of time pondering these last few days since attending the Deeper Still conference–pondering how leaving the home for one day equals an extra two days of housework; pondering the meaning behind the shoebox that my daughter left on the kitchen table filled with one flip-flop, one croc, one cloth napkin, and one leg from a baby doll; and pondering why my son has so many questions about heaven that bring him to tears.

And I want to say that I’ve been pondering the challenge that the Lord gave me, but instead, I think I’m learning that I need to ponder patience. Perhaps patience is my challenge.

When Priscilla Shirer inspired me with her message on 2 Kings 13, urging us to give God what we have and allow Him the opportunity to work a miracle in that margin where we don’t have, I wanted to shout,”Yes, Lord! Work a miracle in me! I’m not going to act as King Jehoash–I’ll give you all my arrows, not holding back any!” Except I don’t know what I’m giving. I don’t know where God is calling.

I only know that I have left feeling restless, and I have had this feeling before.

I know God is working in me, causing my heart to feel emotions that I haven’t felt quite this way before, conviction in the way I live a little stronger than usual, and I have this sense that God is preparing me for something. And it’s exciting. And a little scary.

I don’t do well with not knowing, and I don’t do well with not having the words to explain my thoughts coherently (I can’t believe how long I’m taking to write this piece), yet I have to trust that, for now, God wants me to feel exactly this way.

So I will ponder, and I will treasure. As Beth Moore shared, sometimes God only gives us one piece of the puzzle, but we can trust that He’s holding all the rest in His hands. And as Mary did, we can treasure. We can protect and preserve in our mind all those moments when we have no idea what is going on, but all the same, know that they are important.

I will take my puzzle piece and store it away in a box on the shelf. And in God’s time, I’ll one day begin to see a picture.

I’m Thankful Today Because…

It’s the little things….

Kids sleeping in on a Friday morning when we don’t have to be anywhere….

Getting four or so hours of alone time with my husband as we take a mini road trip….

Anticipating a night without little visitors sneaking into bed and boring holes in our back with their heads and little feet (because these visitors only sleep sideways, of course)….

Winning a ticket to a conference and getting a chance to meet in person those faces that have flashed through my Twitter feed countless times….

And one big thing…

Sitting alongside 12,000 other women as we learn and worship our God together…

For this ‘Focus On It Friday’ I am thankful for (in)courage by DaySpring who hosted the giveaway to win a ticket to the Deeper Still conference, and I look forward to meeting some of their wonderful writers and the six other ladies who were as lucky as I. And I am especially thankful for my in-laws who are taking the three munchkins so that I can attend this conference, Matt can catch up on some work, and we can reconnect for a couple of hours each day on our mini road trip.

The Pen to the Paper

Sometimes I don’t write for a couple of days, and I really want to. Children waking up an hour earlier than normal, an alarm clock malfunctioning, someone coming to the door as I sit down–life is full of distractions. Other times, though, I want to write about an idea, but the post won’t gel in my mind. I have this instinctive feeling that I shouldn’t write yet, even though I want to get my ideas down.

Some ideas are better recorded in my own personal journal, but sometimes I even feel a pull from recording my ideas there. The last couple of days I have felt this tension.

For two nights I have gone to bed under a fog of depression and feelings of inadequacy. Those previous days I was having difficulty parenting, not with issues like keeping my kids from peeing on the floor or from sticking their hands in the sugar jar, but with issues that were a little bigger. I was comparing myself to people that I don’t even know. Yes, I did compare myself to Almanzo’s parents in Farmer Boy. Don’t tell me that you’ve never done that!

Their children never questioned them, wouldn’t dare think of it. Of course, they also didn’t allow their children to speak unless spoken to, and Almanzo knew that if he defied his parents he would get a beating out in the barn. Matt and I have not created the same environment as the Wilder family, so I don’t know that it was fair to compare myself to them.

Yet I did because if there is one job at which I do not want to fail, it is parenting. As a teacher, I saw the results of failed parenting. I want to raise children who love God, who are productive members of society, who are respectful to others, who write thank-you notes…

…and I felt God say that I will fail because I’m not perfect. And they will fail because they will never achieve perfection, no matter how excellent I parent. Those words should have felt freeing to my spirit, but they didn’t.

I was too caught up in my feelings of fear, and I wanted to write down everything that I feared, but I couldn’t even make sense of my own feelings.

So last night as I was trying to form the words in my mind, I felt God whisper again. Two days after my initial feelings of depression, the situation looked a little different, not quite as bleak. And two days later, because I didn’t have those feelings recorded down, they had no permanence; they were fleeting.

Because sometimes parenting takes faith–faith that the effort I put in now will not be in vein. Sometimes marriage takes faith–faith that feelings that come and go will never take the place of the foundation of love that is there. Sometimes facing every new day takes faith–faith that the strength needed to overcome any obstacle or challenge will not fail. The prayers I utter every night do not fall on deaf ears, and I will see those good desires come to fruition, for “he who began a good work in [me, my children, my husband, and] you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6).

I am prone to worry, but sometimes, I have to let my worries go. Sometimes I have to trust that God loves my family more than I do, and if I want the best for them, He does all the more. Sometimes I have to wait a couple of days before taking my pen to the paper, giving truth and permanence to feelings that will fade with the next sunrise.

And sometimes so do you. Give your children two more days. Give your marriage two more days. Give your circumstances two more days, for we should never write our future before God is finished with the present.

*words in bracket and emphasis added to Scripture reference are my own.

In Sickness and In Health

As I walked up to the kitchen sink this morning, I was taken aback by the number of little plastic cups and fat medicine tubes covering the bottom. I had cleaned everything in the sink before I called it a night, hadn’t I? And almost as soon as I had had the thought, I remembered that Wendy gave Emmett two more rounds of medicine since I had gone to bed, one at two and the other at six a.m. Now, a little after eight, I was adding my contribution to the pile.

I immediately felt a weariness for her, as I realized that ‘catching up’ on housework during Emmett’s chemotherapy weeks wasn’t a realistic possibility. With a bouncing boy demanding her undivided attention when she was home, lesson plans and grading that would start to accumulate as the new semester began, and the typical chores that keep any wife and mother from feeling like she has any free time, Wendy already had a full plate. Add to her schedule doctor’s appointments and middle-of-the-night meds and feedings, and I could only imagine her level of physical fatigue, not to mention emotional and spiritual, as well.

Before I arrived in Nashville for these few days with Wendy and Emmett, my mind began to ponder something Emmett had written earlier.

It was a blessing to get ringside seats at my brothers wedding, but I listened to the exchange of vows with a new perspective on things. “through sickness and through health” took on a new meaning. I was touched by how we pledge through sickness first, which is the hardest time to love, especially when sickness can be so long reaching, and can disrupt things for an incredibly long time. (Emmett 8/3/2010)

I, too, had to taken the vow to love someone in sickness and in health, yet I know now that I had no idea to what I was committing eight years ago.

When I got married, I was under the misconception that if I loved someone with all my heart, promising to nurse him through sickness would come naturally, with a willingness because of that love. As a young woman at just twenty-two, I couldn’t imagine what that kind of sacrifice would entail, but I was sure that my love for Matt would make me better than I am if that time should arise. I realize now that I was wrong. Loving someone doesn’t make me a better person; instead, his love for me gently points out all my imperfections, showing me exactly how far I have to go.

Since I’ve been married and have had children, I have become more acutely aware of the naturally selfish tendencies within me. Yes, I willingly make many sacrifices for my family, but more often than I’d like to admit, I know my mind focuses on the word ‘sacrifice’ instead of seeing my action as an offering of love. And the more Matt and my children love me unconditionally, the more I am aware of my shortcomings.

When I look at Wendy and Emmett and contemplate the words that they share through their own journey, I am inspired. They share so openly and honestly about their own struggles with faith and love, and, at times, I feel ashamed for my own feelings. They are experiencing a hell on earth, yet their focus is to show others a glimpse of heaven. Their trust in Jesus with their lives is amazing, and I want that faith. I want my focus to shift from inward to heavenward so that my life emulates Christ, no matter the circumstance.

I don’t want to be selfish. I want to pray as Wendy prays: Lord, make me more like you, but do it gently, for I am weak (Wendy 8/16/2010). As much as I’d like to think that my love for Matt would enable me to care for him in a time of sickness, I know it is not enough. I know I am weak and that I easily weary. Instead, I need the love of a Savior who illuminates my imperfections and gently carves away at them, filling the void with Him. I need to be filled with more of Him and less of me.

I came here for a few days to offer a hand to Wendy, but instead, she has helped me. She is a beautiful picture of the love of Christ poured out for those He loves. And I pray that as I drive away tomorrow from this family covered in devotion to one another, their example would serve as a reminder for all that I need to allow God to change in me.

Please join me in praying for Wendy and Emmett and their young son Quinn. You can follow their amazing journey of faith through Emmett’s battle with cancer at teamemmett.com.

The M.O.B Society (Mothers of Boys) was also gracious enough to allow me to contribute to their site today. I would love if you would stop by and say ‘hello.’

Nothing Wasted

Last night as my birthday date came to a close, I lay in bed thinking about the last 31 years. I was overwhelmed by the goodness of God. I compiled a mental list of all my blessings, a list I have chosen to keep between God and me, and I realized what a full 31 years I have had. God has given me so much, so many good things, and in His kindness, He has used the ‘bad’ parts of my life to grow me and teach me, as well. He doesn’t waste any moments.

Unfortunately, I have a tendency to compare. Sometimes I like to peek at your list and question why God hasn’t blessed me with item #53 as well. God then has to walk down the aisle, tap on my desk with His hand, and firmly instruct me to keep my eyes on my own paper. He knows best. You see, we’re not taking the same test; your list won’t help me. And it is then that I have to rely on faith, faith to remind me that the items God hasn’t put on my list don’t need to be there, and those items that I don’t want to write on my list do. He doesn’t waste.

I have no idea what the future holds for me. God could grant me another 31 years, or God could call me home today. But no matter the length of time on earth, I want to always say, “There were no wasted moments.” And truthfully, having that attitude can be challenging for me. But it’s important to try because it’s true.

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future”‘ (Jeremiah 29:11).

For this ‘Focus on it Friday,’ I am so thankful for all of the wonderful blessings God has given me over the last 31 years, and I am thankful for those trials that I normally wouldn’t see as a blessing. Thank you, Lord, for using those difficult moments to bless me, as well!

My challenge to you for this Friday is to compile your own list while keeping your eyes on your own paper. What blessings has the Lord given you? And just an important, what trials has He allowed to come your way? How has He shown you that He will not waste those moments?

The Silver Lining: Ten Reasons that Not Moving is Not Bad

We took our home off the market this weekend. Our realtor removed the sign before knocking on the door so that we wouldn’t have to watch as it became official–we were not moving. I’ve not allowed myself to dwell on the reality because I don’t want to feel disappointed; I love my home and where we live–I just wish we could spend more time together as a family.

I hadn’t planned on doing a top ten list today; however, I thought this exercise would be good for me, would force me to look ahead with hope and anticipation. So here goes my top ten list for why not moving is not a bad thing:

10. A Clutter-free Life: Getting ready to move was extremely stressful and took a couple of months of going to bed after midnight every night to finish. However, we needed the deadline to remove every piece of clutter from our home, and as a result, my every days are clutter-free and smoother, as well. I won’t have to start over in a new home; I can enjoy the set-up of this one.

9. A New Routine: Keeping an entire home clean and ready to present any day of the week was a challenge, especially with three destructive little ones running around. However, I found a cleaning routine that works for me and that I can continue. I cleaned before, but my house looks the best it’s ever looked because of our attempt to move. I know I can keep this routine going. And who doesn’t like a clean house?

8. New Carpet: Our old carpet was disgusting. End of story.

7. Our Garden: For the four years that we’ve lived here, I’ve wanted to plant a garden. However, every year I was either very pregnant at planting time or home with a newborn and other children. The garden wasn’t a priority. This year, however, my whole family and I got our hands dirty, made memories, and grew the best produce and herbs I’ve ever tasted. I can’t wait to expand our garden next year.

6. Our Backyard: Our yard is large and level–perfect for three kids running around or driving laps in PowerWheels. In addition to being the perfect yard, the location is great, too. We’re located right next to the swim/tennis in our neighborhood. Part of our fence opens up to the path leading to the pool. What could be more perfect during these hot, Georgia summers?

5. Teamwork: Through this process, we’ve all discovered how to help one another. The baby is the only one who doesn’t make her bed, clean her room, or put away clothes. Our family is a team, and we work together.

4. Church: We get to continue going to the church that we love, 12Stone Church, and grow our friendships. And I’ll continue one of my joys this fall–leading with my husband another small group .

3. Focused Family Time: We wanted to move closer to Matt’s work so that we could spend more time together as a family, and Matt would spend less of his time in the car. Right now, that plan is not to be, so as we’ve been doing for the last few months, we’ll have to be intentional about our family time. And intentional time as a family is definitely not a bad thing.

2. Honoring the Sabbath: Even though I know God commands that we use the Sabbath to worship and rest, I’m not sure if the rest part would have become a priority had we not planned to move. After working so hard every week, I needed a rest on Sunday. And since I knew the weekend was our reserved family time together, I made sure I got all of my chores completed by Saturday night so that we could use Sunday to focus on God and family. I now realize why God commanded the Sabbath in the first place and wish I had taken His instruction seriously from the beginning. This practice is one I will ensure we keep.

1. Discovering God’s Will: The frustrating part of this journey is not knowing God’s will for us. We prayed about our decision before we ever put the ‘For Sale’ sign in our yard and asked God to guide us. If it were not His will, we did not want to move (even though we really wanted to move). I’m not sure what He has in store for us, if there is a specific purpose we are to accomplish here, or if we are just products of a bad housing market. What I do know is that if God had a specific purpose for us to live in Alpharetta, then our house would’ve sold. And while I’m disappointed, I will rest in that fact and continue to seek His will for our family.

I’ve linked today’s post at OhAmanda for Top Ten Tuesday. Head on over for some fun reading!

In All Things

I love it when a sermon confirms that I’m right. A pastor spilling bits of God’s truth to the congregation, I scoop up those precious morsels that I’ve uttered before, admiring the way they shine under the stage lights. There’s nothing better than to nod my head in agreement without feeling the twinge of conviction that can so often come in the lonely chairs of a church.

This past Sunday, pastor Jason Britt preached on God’s omnipresence, God’s ability to be everywhere at every moment. He challenged that if we really believed in God’s omnipresence, our daily lives would look different. We would speak to our loved ones differently, conduct business more honestly, allow our hearts to break for others’ suffering more openly. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I thought of different moments when God was watching me from within the same room. God’s omnipresence meant conviction.

But then the pastor moved on to his next point, and I could breathe easier again. As he spoke that God’s omnipresence can also bring comfort, he made a distinction that caused me to lean forward in my seat: God’s presence in every situation does not mean that everything always works out. There is a difference between ‘everything is okay’ and ‘God is here.’ Yes! I scooped up the pastor’s last sentence. That was exactly the point I had tried to make a couple of years ago!

Two years ago I was overcome with worry. I was a stay-at-home mom facing the need to look for a job. The job for which my husband transferred and moved our family didn’t turn out to be the best fit, and he began the search down a new career path. To complicate matters, the house from which we moved had still not sold, and our renters vacated the premises. We had two mortgages and no jobs.

I remember praying and the situation not changing. I would convey my fears to others, but sometimes instead of feeling encouraged, I would feel frustrated. These well-meaning individuals would tell me, “God will provide,” implying that God was holding next month’s mortgage payments in His hands, just waiting to hand them over. One person asked, “Don’t you have faith?!”

I was angry. Yes, I had faith! But I also knew that God’s provision did not necessarily translate into money. God could provide peace or His Word or meet our basic needs through our extended family, but there was no guarantee that He was going to provide jobs so that our homes didn’t end in foreclosure.

Look in the Bible–Joseph’s brothers sold him into slavery. He ended up in prison for years! Paul had stones hurled at him on more than one occasion, and he was left for dead many times. I believed that God was there during all those moments, but those lives were definitely not okay.

This sermon was vindication for me and all those feelings I held two years ago. I had no guarantee that everything would be okay and knowing that fact did not make me a bad Christian. Obviously, I was an insightful Christian since the pastor was speaking what I already knew.

And as I listened to the rest of the sermon, God tapped on my shoulder.

In all things God works for the good of those who love him who have been called according to his purpose.

I knew the verse. I clung to Romans 8:28 many times during our mess, but it didn’t bring me comfort. I was focused on the years Joseph spent in prison, not the glory to God he brought as a result. I didn’t see that he saved Egypt from famine or was reunited with his family–only that he was 30 when it all happened after being sold into slavery as a boy. I was focused on the beatings Paul received, not the spread of the Gospel across the world. I didn’t see that he sang praises to God while sitting imprisoned–only that he had shackles around his wrists and ankles.

Two years ago, I was hung up on the balance between God’s will and freewill. I knew bad things happened to good people, and I couldn’t find comfort in God’s promises. But sitting in that seat in church, holding that nugget of truth that I knew so well, I saw something different as I looked it over. Everything isn’t always okay, but God is always there. And if God is always there, He is continually taking the broken pieces of our mess and, as the true master craftsman, making them part of something beautiful.

Two years ago, I was right. Everything isn’t okay, and it isn’t necessarily helpful to tell someone that it will be. However, two years ago, I was also wrong. I couldn’t find peace in the midst of turmoil knowing that God would use this heartache for His purpose.

As I sat in that church chair, I experienced God’s omnipresence as I felt His conviction and comfort simultaneously. And I was thankful for the hand of God who used a sermon to confirm how I had been wrong.

*Post edited at 9:36 am on 7/14. Anyone who read the post prior to this time, please know that the pastor used the term omnipresence and not omnipotence. The error was solely mine in editing and thus proof that I should not write early in the morning.

Losing Jesus

Many times in my Christian walk, I feel caught in the middle. I’m not conservative enough for some, yet for others, I’m too rigid. On one view, my opinions might match up completely with the fundamentalist Christian, while on another, I might relate to that of a person with a more liberal interpretation of Scripture. I don’t feel completely home in either camp, and most of the time, I don’t want to.

Last week I was a spectator to the blog world’s ping pong match between those who feel Scripture has a clear mandate for mothers to stay home with their children and those who do not. Some stay-at-home moms wrote posts exhorting other moms to stay home as God’s will, while other women argued back that God’s will for some mothers might be to work outside the home. I read some of these posts and left feeling…well…uncomfortable.

Once again, I was caught in the middle. I stay home with my children, but I honestly didn’t even know there was a verse from Scripture to defend that decision, had I wanted to use one. I felt like a child watching her parents fight, confused by the argument and not wanting to take sides because she loves both of her parents.

For days I thought about what I had read. I thought about the blogs passionately defending the idea that a mother’s place is at home with her children, wanting to lead all mothers to that same conclusion, and I thought about those equally as passionate refuting that idea, that while staying home with one’s children is fine, so is working. Both sides of the argument had their own verses from Scripture. I thought about those who left comments on different blogs saying they were so hurt by the discussion, the implication that they were sinners, and had decided to never read that particular blog again. And I thought to myself, “How does this happen? Why has this topic blown up into such a heated debate between Christians?”

Because both sides know that they’re right. Whether they’ve decided that God is clear in His mandate or that there is no mandate, both sides feel in their hearts that they are right. When people truly believe they know the truth, they are going to want to share, not to leave others in the dark. And when their values have been attacked, especially a value they have prayerfully received, they are going to defend it.

I don’t know how it is possible for two people who are honestly seeking God’s will, looking for guidance from the Holy Spirit to interpret Scripture, to come to vastly different conclusions. I don’t know how, but I know it happens on almost every topic in Christianity. From politics to homosexuality to alcohol to the movies we watch, there are people on complete opposite sides of the spectrum defending their views as God’s views.

And the arguments are personal because, after all, if you were honestly seeking God’s will to an issue, and He told you His will, what does that mean if someone else says that God told him something different? Did you hear God wrong, or did he?

Perhaps the problem with all these debates is that they’re missing the point. While each discussion may have started with Jesus as the focus and with pure intentions, the further and further into the debates we get, the more and more Jesus gets pushed to the side. No longer are our eyes on our Creator and His will but on defending our own personal agendas. There is a fine line between causing a person to think, to stretch his or her faith, and causing dissension in the church. And sometimes I don’t think we know the difference.

While we are defending our views on why we should vote for this candidate for president, there are people living under the control of corrupt governments, unable to get clean drinking water. While we debate whether or not Christians can be pro-choice, there’s a frightened pregnant teenager at our local high school who doesn’t know where to turn. And while we debate whether or not moms should stay at home, there are millions of orphans in the world who need a family. Instead of watching us debate, the world should see us act.

I don’t know why I can believe something so strongly, see something so clearly in Scripture, yet have my neighbor not see what I see. I don’t know how someone can make me feel guilty for a view I have when I sought the Lord first. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t have to know. My faith is based on Jesus, and I shouldn’t understand everything, otherwise I don’t need faith.

Our world needs Jesus, not our opinions. They need us to be His hands and feet, to take His love to those who need it most. And while we should seek God’s will and learn and debate and feel solid in our convictions, we can’t confuse our convictions with the face of Jesus. The issues we debate are important but not at the expense of Him in whose name we debate.

Peace in Purpose

Crunching numbers that won’t bend. A laptop closes. Quiet tears of frustration on one side, a sigh of resignation on the other. Two bodies lay in a divided space, still and tired.

Throughout the next day, thoughts of each other pass back and forth, amidst dishes and meetings, children and proposals. Two parties carrying their own loads and their common burden, struggling to place it at His feet. And yet, a calm comes.

Pushing back thoughts of the night before, restless fingertips pluck the sheets on one side, a gentle arm reaches on the other. Two bodies embrace in a small space, warm and at peace.

Another crawls atop, coughing and sipping water from his cup, squirming his way into the middle. The two sets of fingertips stretch to touch over the divide. In the morning, tired eyes open, a smile forms. A fourth has included herself in the pretzel of arms and legs.

And another day begins, the burden a little lighter, under the weight of large blessings.

Faith Like a Child

I can’t get anything by Caleb; he is too bright. Always asking questions, he stores away the answers in his computer of a mind, a mind that does not forget. I have to make sure I answer Caleb truthfully and carefully because, chances are, we will come back to our conversation again someday.

When Caleb asked me how his baby sister got in my tummy, I was happy to give him just enough information that he needed without the extra details that his three-year-old mind at the time didn’t need to explore.

“Mommy and Daddy wanted and prayed for a baby, so God put her there.”

That answer seemed to suffice. However, Caleb did not find that answer sufficient for how his sister came out of my tummy.

“God got her out.”

“But HOW?”

“Umm…I’m not exactly sure how; the doctor did something…”

“But you were THERE!!!”

“Yes, but I had my eyes closed. Why don’t you ask your father when he gets home? He was there, too. Maybe his eyes were open.”

And we moved on from that conversation, Caleb satisfied for the moment knowing that he could ask his daddy again, later. I felt a little guilty because I never wanted to lie to my son (yes, my eyes were closed for part of the process, but I have a pretty good idea of how each of my children emerged!) or pass all the responsibility for educating him onto my husband. The truth is I just wasn’t prepared for that question, yet, so I didn’t know how to answer.

There have been other times that I haven’t been prepared for how to answer Caleb, but I knew the question was too important to find a benign answer or wait until Daddy came home.

“How did Jesus make people when he was here?”

We had just finished reading a story about Jesus in Hannah Grace’s children’s Bible when Caleb asked this question.

“I’m really not sure how Jesus makes people. He’s God and can do anything.”

I started to answer, fumbling along, wondering again how much detail Caleb would need to be happy. I really didn’t want to give a sex talk, yet, but Caleb started to shake his head, furrowed his brow, indicating I was heading down the wrong path.

“No. When he was here, how did he make people?”

I looked at him for a minute, and then it hit me what he was really asking.

“You mean, because Jesus wasn’t in heaven, he was on Earth, how was he able to make people?”

“Yes.”

Oh, brother. Caleb was essentially asking me about the Trinity. I was beginning to think the sex talk would have been a little more straightforward, and nervousness began to grip me. I didn’t even understand the Trinity–it’s one of the mysteries of the Christian faith–so how would I explain something so complex in language that a three-year-old could digest?

What if I actually said something heretical when trying to explain this concept to Caleb? What if I influenced Caleb to believe something incorrect? Or worse, what if Caleb thought everything I was trying to explain just sounded crazy, and he didn’t want to believe?

I had this same fear when Caleb asked me about the crucifixion earlier in the year. Jesus dying, Jesus rising from the dead, an angel appearing to the women–how could I expect Caleb to believe the things that I believed when they sounded so outlandish?

And I remembered two verses: “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written: ‘I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate'” (I Corinthians 1: 18-19). Yes, the message can sound foolish, far-fetched to our human minds, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

And then God comforted me: “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. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it'” (Luke 18: 16-17). Caleb had everything he needed to believe; he had the innocence and faith that we adults sometimes lose.

Having faith like a child doesn’t mean becoming unintelligent; God created the little mind that is always working in Caleb and wants it to grow. Instead, having this faith means learning how to trust. Caleb could believe what I was trying to teach him because he trusts me, that I love him and will teach him what is right. Likewise, I can have faith in God because of what I trust about His character–He is good, He is love, He is holy. As Caleb grows and learns about the character of God, he will no longer need to rely on his faith in me to believe; he will develop his own faith in God.

More important than the doctrine I try to teach is the life I actually live. And while our conversations are important, Caleb will learn more from my example. Am I loving as God commanded, serving others before myself, trying to model the life of Jesus and follow His will? These questions are the ones that I need to know how to answer. My hope is that if I can answer them in the affirmative, Caleb won’t find having faith like a child quite as difficult when he’s an adult.