A Little Child

"Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it." 

  Mark l0:15

Most of the time, I find myself taking life too seriously. I put up walls of protection, tighten my shoulders, and grit my teeth. Why do I find it so hard to become like a little child? Is it the fear of rejection?  the need to be loved?  What did Jesus mean by this verse?

Many years ago, my family and I went to a friend’s mountain cottage for a few days vacation.  It was a warm, glowing, full-of-personality place. After unpacking the car, we decided to take a little walk. Although it was dark outside, the snow was so bright we didn't even take a light. As we walked down the hill, I plopped myself down in the snow and laid flat on my back. I began to laugh, swinging my arms and legs up and down.  When I stood up to shake off the snow, I saw the beautiful imprint of a snow angel.  "I have always wanted to do that," I said.  It made me feel like a little child.

I remember another time.  My husband and son had left for a five day trip. Looking forward to learning more about solitude, I picked up my books to go sit on my screened-in back porch. I sat there looking out to a beautiful sunny day. Suddenly, out of the blue (literally), it began to rain. Before I realized what I was doing, I laid my books down and ran outside.  Looking up with my mouth wide open, I drank in the rain, all the while spinning around and around.  I was soaked in a matter of minutes, but I didn't care. I was having too much fun dancing. I felt so alive and such inner freedom.

A couple of months ago I went to the dermatologist for a precancerous spot on my nose. Treatment has taken me through some awful looking stages.  The other day in the Dollar Store a little girl said, "You gotta bobo on your nose?"  I said, "Yes, I do."  When she looked at me with great concern and compassion, I said, "It doesn’t hurt. It will go away soon."  She smiled and said, "Oh."  While most of the adults I have been around seem to have felt awkward about it, the little girl was open and honest.  Why can't we be like a little child?  Children just lay their hearts out there.

My grandchildren have taught me a good deal about being a child. They love to laugh and create. One afternoon this past summer we made biscuits together.  Soon the flour was all over the floor, the counter, and us. When we were finished one of them wanted to decorate with sprinkles and birthday candles. I said, "Hon, we are not making cake, we are making biscuits."  The children didn’t care. I gave each one a ball of dough to create his masterpiece. We even lit the candles and sang "Happy Birthday" to each of us!

In two situations I have learned more this year about being a little child. I just mentioned one—my grandchildren. The second is my father, who is older now, but more than that, has been very sick. They are both similar in many ways. They are very dependent. They are open and honest, and they don’t protect themselves by placing walls between you and them. They have no reputation to try to uphold. They share love boldly, and they share their hearts freely.

In thinking about these people, I wonder if God intended for us to enter
this world as a child and leave it as a child?

The question is: How do we live child-like in our daily lives between those years?

Brennan Manning says, in his book "Souvenirs of Solitude," that the "child" represents our authentic self. He says, "I am a unique and radiant center of personal thought and feeling. Rather than living a routine existence in mere conformity with the crowd, the emerging child reminds me I have a face of my own, gives me the courage to be myself, protects me against being like everybody else, and calls for that living, vibrant, magnificent image of Jesus Christ that is within me waiting only to unfold and be expressed."

He also says that you don't really share yourself until you share your feelings. That is the secret of love.  

Prayer:

Father, Son, and Spirit, your love makes me want to be a little child again. I want to laugh and sing and dance and run with you. Please give me a child-like faith with enjoyment, dependence, and confidence in your love—believing it, receiving it, and giving it away. Help me not be guarded, but love openly and freely. Teach me again I pray.