Coming to God as a Child (Part 3): I Can!

By David Ryser

In one of his books, author Robert Fulghum makes an interesting observation about children.  If you go into a kindergarten classroom and ask “Who can sing?” or “Who can dance?” virtually all of the children raise their hands.  If you ask the same questions in a high school classroom, only a few of the students will raise their hands.

Why?  And what does this have to do with the Kingdom of God?

In Luke 18:17 (cf. Mark 10:15), Jesus said that it is impossible for someone to enter the Kingdom of God unless they receive it like a little child.  As Fulghum noted, little children have not yet become jaded by life.  They believe they can sing.  They believe they can dance.  They believe they can do anything they have not yet been told they cannot do.

They believe they can!  And they are right.

The fact is, everyone can sing and dance.  I may not be able to sing like a recording artist or dance like Fred Astaire, but I can sing and dance.  If I don’t sing and dance because I don’t have professional talent, I will never sing or dance.  Or play golf.  Or swim.  Or play a musical instrument.

Or minister….

What if the church I attend has a worship team or a choir?  Should I stop worshiping because I’m not talented enough?  Should I not spread the Gospel because there are professional preachers who are more eloquent than I?  Should I stop ministering God’s power to people because there are healing evangelists and miracle workers?

The obvious answer is, “Of course not!”  Just because I’m not a professional, I am not disqualified from worshiping, witnessing, and ministering.

But it’s more complicated than that.

What happens when I have tried and failed?  How do I react then?  Do I run off and hide like Elijah (1 Kings 19:1-10)?  Or do I react like a little child?

Small children not only believe they can do anything; they are not discouraged by failure.

Consider a toddler who is learning to walk.  How do children learn to walk?  They learn to walk by falling down…a lot.  Sometimes they fall on the padding God gave them.  But sometimes they fall awkwardly and even hurt themselves.

But they keep trying until they succeed.

Imagine if toddlers were like adults.  They would try to walk and then fall over.  Then they would say, “This walking stuff is not for me!  I tried it, and it doesn’t work!  I’m never going to do that again!”

The child would never learn how to walk.  Mothers would be lugging around twenty-five-year-old children.  It’s absurd!

But we do the very same thing in the spirit.  We fail in some way and quit.  We leave the advancement of God’s kingdom to the professionals.  We even pay them to be spiritual for us.

After all, the pastor can pray better than I can.  And counsel and comfort others better than I can.  And hear from God better than I can.

Little children are not like this.

Juan Carlos Ortiz tells a marvelous story about children and the Father’s heart.  When he would travel in ministry, he would often be gone from home for an extended time.  His wife would write to him regularly and let him know what was going on back at home.  Each of the children would also enclose a one-page letter.  The youngest child was a toddler who had not yet learned how to write.

But that didn’t discourage him.

The youngest child would take a crayon and scribble on a piece of paper to send to his dad.  When Pastor Ortiz would receive the letter from home, he treasured the scribbling of the toddler every bit as much as the letters from his other children.  Each was an expression of love for their father.  Each was equally precious to him.

Pastor Ortiz equated this with worship.

He began by saying, “I play a little guitar.”  Saying “I play a little guitar” is a lot like saying, “I do a little brain surgery.”  It means he’s not very good at it.  But that didn’t stop him from playing his guitar and pouring out his love for his heavenly Father by singing to Him.

How do you suppose God reacted?

Pastor Ortiz said he could imagine the Father turning to the angelic choir and saying, “Could you guys keep it down for a minute?  I want to hear Johnny scribble!”

So I’m not the best preacher.  Or the best teacher.  I’m not a prophet or an evangelist.  I’m not a professional singer or dancer.  I don’t know how to pray most of the time.

But I’m not going to let these things keep me from entering and living in the Kingdom of God.

Because, you see, I can scribble.

Responses to this article are welcomed.  You may contact the author at drdave1545@yahoo.com