Friday, August 27, 2010

Wise Children

"O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth! Your glory is higher than the heavens. You have taught children and infants to tell of your strength, silencing your enemies and all who oppose you." Psalm 8:1-2

The wisdom of children far surpasses my own, at times. That's why I always welcome their conversations. When I listen to them I'm getting a glimpse of God's heart. Here's a bit of God's wisdom, compassion and power some children have shared with me:


It had been an hour-long, Wednesday night praise service. I'd quickly rushed to the nearest empty seat in the middle section of our modern sanctuary and sat alone. I thought I was the only one aware of my surrounding empty seats . Then, during the benediction, a five-year-old girl slid down the long row of chairs to my side. "Hi! I'm Kaitlyn," she said with a sincere smile and sparkling blue eyes. "I thought I'd come sit with you so you wouldn't be alone anymore."


I shared a late summer walk around the block with my two-year-old granddaughter. She noticed the piles of dry, discarded leaves alongside the road. She soon discovered how they crunched beneath our feet as we walked. "Crunch, crunch, crunch!" she exclaimed each time, delighted in her new awareness. Then she found an itty, bitty red leaf in perfect form. "Awww. A baby leaf. So cute," she said, stopping to pick it up, examining it like a mother tending to her newborn. "So pretty, red." And she carried God's delicate treasure all the way home.


My daughter couldn't settle down for bed. She was just barely 18 months old and feeling out of sorts. I'd rocked her for over an hour and attempted to lay her down three times but each time she shrieked with pain. "What's wrong? Where does it hurt?" I asked.

With that old familiar tug, "My ear," she cried.

"Mommy will be right back with some medicine." I closed the door and whispered up a prayer. "Please, dear Jesus, we can't even afford Tylenol let alone a doctor's visit and Amoxicilin."

When I returned to her crib with a dropper, she greeted me with a big smile, laughing and jumping. "He fixed it, Mommy!" she squealed, pointing to a shelf of stuffed animals.

"Your ear?"


"Who fixed it?"

"He did!"

I pointed to each stuffed animal, Bert and Ernie, even to the characters on the covers of the books we'd read earlier.

"No, Mommy! HE fixed it," she insisted, pointing to the same shelf.

I was stumped. Then I remembered the prayer I'd whispered into thin air. But, Jesus couldn't have revealed himself to my baby girl, for real...could he? So, dismissing that possibility I asked, "Does this man have wings?"

Again she pointed, "No, Mommy! HE fixed it!"

I then pulled out the board book, Jesus and the Children, we'd read earlier and pointed to the picture of Jesus playing leap frog with smiling children. "Did HE fix your ear? Did Jesus fix it?"

Relieved and elated she jumped up and down, "Yes, Mommy. HE fixed it. He fixed my ear!"

"How?" I asked.

"He touched it," she said mater-of-fact, laid down and fell fast asleep for the entire night. She's never had an ear infection since then.


It never fails that when I'm in the presence of children, I see Jesus.

Lord, give me their eyes, their faith so that when they spend time with me, they see you, too.

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