There are few things more affecting than how my children show me Jesus.
It usually comes in moments when I am too busy or harried. When I am scrambling. When as Willy Wonka says, “There is so little to do and so much time to do it! Wait, strike that. Reverse it!” In one such moment recently, my daughter saw my flustered, stressed, frenzied self and gently put her hand on my arm. Her touch and sweet deep blue eyes calmed me as she stopped me dead in my tracks. “Mommy, I love you. It’s OK,” as she squeezed me as hard as she could with a hug. She chose the better portion.
It comes in the store when I am focused on my shopping list, and getting through the aisles, reminding (impatiently) the kids to stay on one side so people can pass. Another one of my daughters sees an older gentlemen limping and asks me why he walking that way, and can she go talk to him? And then she does, and in her child-like fashion and boisterous personality starts oversharing. The gentleman hears way more than he probably wants to about our family but she leaves him with a big smile on his face. I can see his body language physically change and a pep in his step as he walks away. Someone took notice of him. Someone loved him enough to talk to him.
It comes when I wake up feeling like an accomplished, competent, super-mom. And then I enter the kitchen as my then five-year-old daughter is getting water from the fridge. She takes one look at me in my pajamas and with a look of disgust says, “Mommy, every time I see you, you’re wearing that dirty bra!” Then proceeds to take a big gulp of water and walk out. What in the world? She made me laugh when I needed it. (And also made me evaluate my pajama choice) Kids put you in your place. No staying on my high horse in this house.
Jesus says, “Let the little children come to me and do not hider them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 19:14
Do I have a sensitivity to broken people, sad people? Do I recognize when someone needs a hug, compassion and a calming touch? Letting them know even when I can’t fix it for them, that everything will be OK in the end? Do I have enough humility to not take myself so seriously, to laugh at myself?
Thank goodness for children. Thank goodness for my children. Their child-like sweetness gives me a glimpse of the heart that fills the kingdom of heaven.
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