What I'm Actually like as a Child of God

I have a sixteen-month-old boy. A very mobile, abundantly active, and daringly fearless sixteen-month-old boy. To further paint the picture, three of his current favorite words are, “run,” “climb,” and “fast.” Suffice it to say that I have found him magically appear on countertops, we have our pediatrician on speed-dial, and that bag of diced potatoes in the freezer makes a great ice-pack. 

He’s just a little rough and tumble. We are extremely attentive, but like he says he really does move “fast.” Some small bumps and bruises just seem to be par for the course these days. 

Within the span of a week recently we had two more dramatic moments when he pulled a shelf on top of himself having dinner at a friend’s house, and then flew over the couch arm getting up from reading a book. Both times my husband and I were literally inches away. Both times resulted in the dreaded crash, followed by that all-too-long quiet pause where you can feel the oxygen drain from the entire room and get sucked into their lungs for a scream. You know the pause of which I speak. Both times required a lot of snuggles and distraction afterward, probably more for my sake than for his. 

Both times nearly broke my mother’s heart. 

Both times left a bruise. But it’s fading. 

And really both times have been nudging my heart to ponder these experiences deeply. 

Kids teach us so much. They teach us so much about ourselves. They teach us so much about God. There is so much to be learned about His character through the albeit imperfect relationship between parent and child. There is so much to be learned about how He see us through contemplating how we see children. 

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In Matthew 18:3, Jesus tells us: “unless you change, and become like little children, you will not enter the Kingdom of God.” 

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That's a pretty clear demand. We must become like children. Ok, sure, but how? What does that actually look like?

We can begin by looking at the characteristics of children. Children are innocent. Children are trusting. Children are joyful. Children are dependent. Children are beautiful simplistic. Children model so many virtues of the Christian life. 

And also, children are messy. Children require a lot of attention and care. Children vault off furniture and walk around grinning with purple fore-head goose-eggs.

Children get hurt. Frequently. 

What am I getting at here? I think too frequently we focus only on the seemingly “beautiful” qualities of children. We think these are the qualities that teach us how to be Children of God. 

And they do! But what about the abundantly active, terrible-two, running, climbing, fast children of God? What about this season of development? What about our tendencies for mishaps and mistakes? 

What about the Toddlers of God? Are we supposed to become even like them?

When my son pulled that shelf on top of himself, I was beside him in an instant. When he was crying in pain, there was no place I would let him be than in my arms. When he was walking around with an ugly bruise on his face, I still found him the cutest kid in the world. 

Honestly, I am a toddler sometimes. I make a lot of messes. I make a lot of mistakes. I act rash and uncoordinated. My actions frequently cause myself and the people around me hurt. These are my sins. I’m not literally falling off the couch, but I spiritually do all the time. 

Realistically, my faith life looks a lot like a toddler. Sure somedays I resemble the peace and tranquility of a baby, asleep in her father's arms without a care in the world, completely trusting in His love and His providence. But let's be honest, that is not the norm. My norm involves a lot more scrapes and splinters and pushing limits and band-aids. And a few goose-eggs along the way.

But I wish I could say that I respond as well as a toddler does. Rather than admit the pain and cry out to my God about it, I often hide it away. Rather than stay in His arms until it’s a long gone memory, I often ineffectively try to muscle-through on my own effort. Rather than embrace my past and the wounds that it caused, I try to cover up my sins, ashamed of showing them to God and those close to me. 

When I fly off the couch, I act a lot more like a teenager. 

The truth is, God will not stop every shelf from falling. He will not catch every fall. Because He loves us, I’m sure it pains Him beyond belief, but He has loved us even more to give us the free will to choose to do these things. But it breaks His heart to see us in pain. He wants nothing more than to scoop us up and take it away, even when what has caused the pain was our initial choice of something other than Him. 

Even when it hurts, God is there with us. Even when are still silently inhaling in order to cry, He is holding us through it all. Even when we’re bruised and discolored and broken by our sin, He wants to receive it all. He sees it all. And He loves it all. 

So, yes, I make a lot of mistakes. I require a lot of attention. I have a lot of bruises, but they’re fading. But it’s ok. I’ve been given permission to be this way. I’ve even been given instruction to become this way! He is my good Father. 

I am His toddler. I am His.