The coffee tonight is too strong, keeping me wide awake. I miss writing; I miss the fullness of the night when words just tumble onto my bed. Thanks to the holiday, I can break away from my schedules. I can be a child again, laying down all the weight and pressures on my shoulders at His feet. I am a kid once more, not striving to be cautious, marveling and wondering again at the world.
My nephew kept talking about how much he enjoyed his time at school. He never stops until he’s tired, recounting every small detail and even memorizing his teacher’s favorite lines. It’s such fun to listen to him, to answer his curious questions, and to watch him discover the beauty of the world, even as he begins to notice its less pleasant sides. I’m fully interested in every little thing he says, even teasing him about how his crush might notice him.
That’s the beauty of being a child. Everything is a surprise; you’re excited to get out of bed, cook pancakes for breakfast, marvel at the world, play, laugh, and find joy in everything. No pressures, no striving to be good enough—just living fully and discovering the wonders of life.
Why do I strive so hard at times? Why do I try to sound good enough, faithful enough, and always cautious not to fall or make mistakes? I want to prove that I’ve grown, that I’m mature, that I don’t cry anymore when I miss tying my shoelaces, that I’m no longer afraid of the dark or the heavy sounds of rain. I want to show that I make wise decisions, that I walk according to His Word, that I’ve learned to pray consistently and fight battles on my knees. I want to prove that I don’t get jealous when friends share stories of finding their suitable counterparts, that I’m unaffected when others dismiss my writing, and that I never get insecure about the way I look in the mirror. Growing older sometimes feels like we should be close to perfection, like we should already know the right thing.
Perhaps, because we want to show the world that we’re strong Christians, that we never fall back. We want to be seen as believers—attending church, memorizing Scripture, fasting and praying, giving our tithes and offerings, attending fellowships, sharing encouraging words, and serving God wholeheartedly. These are all good and beautiful things that we must continue doing sincerely for Him.
Yet, as we grow older, we sometimes forget that we are still His children, and we can always come to Him as needy little ones. It takes humility to come to God with the eagerness of a child, excited to meet his Father and share all the good and bad things that have happened. It takes humility to admit that we’re trying to be good enough but often fall short. It takes humility to converse with Him, confess our failings, and seek His power to surrender fully to His desires, to cleanse us of the idols we harbor in our hearts. It takes humility to admit that sometimes pride keeps us from praying and holding onto His Word. It takes humility to ask Him to cleanse us of pride, jealousy, wrong motives, unbelief, insecurities, and worries that hold us back from following Him and genuinely loving our brothers and sisters.
At times, we become so caught up in how we can serve Him, how we can be good, valuable, and useful in His kingdom. We want to get it done; we want to work with all our heart and soul to earn His words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” We want to be His vessels and examples, so when others look at us, they see the light of the world.
Yet, in all this striving, do we truly know who He is? Are we satisfied in His presence?
“Oh God, create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me." Psalm 51:10 ESV
" Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Matthew 5:8 ESV
"Even a child makes himself known by his acts, by whether his conduct is pure and upright." Proverbs 20:11 ESV
Do we really want to see God? It takes humility to see Him; it takes a pure heart.
In Matthew 18:3, Jesus said to His disciples, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven.” Jesus knew that we must be converted to be like little children. It isn’t in our nature to take the low place and humble ourselves. “Children do not try to be humble, but they are so; and the same is the case with really gracious persons. The imitation of humility is sickening; the reality is attractive.” (Spurgeon)
To be a child at His feet again, under the vast night sky, reminds me of how insignificant I am, yet the Creator of the universe calls me beloved and is mindful of me. I can be a child again, courageously asking questions about how to navigate life with Him, about how to be brave in venturing into new spaces. I can be a child again, asking Him to lead me into the heart of someone He has prepared for me since the beginning. I can be a child again, allowing Him to remind me that He creates tiny bits and pieces of all the beautiful things in this world, and so He has created me wonderfully. I can be a child again, leaning on His shoulders when I’m weary and burdened. I can be a child again, chasing Him and playing with Him like never before.
In this childlike state, I find peace, joy, and a sense of belonging. It’s in this space that I can truly know Him, not just through what I do for Him, but through simply being with Him—marveling at His love, resting in His presence, and trusting in His care.
