Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Childlike

So, we bought this old-fashioned Coke in holiday-themed glass bottles, the kind you have to use a bottle opener on. I usually open mine over the sink because of my tendency to make the bottle caps fly off and Coke splash out. So, this morning I opened one over the sink, as usual. And as expected, the cap flew off and the Coke splashed out--all over the clean dishes in the drying rack. Oh snap.

But anyway, something I've been thinking about a lot since I worked at the school is Jesus' commendation of children. Not just that He loves them or has a heart and compassion for them, but that He speaks highly of them. He says the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these little children (Matt 19:14, Mark 10:14, Luke 18:16), and unless we humble ourselves and become like a little child, we will never enter the kingdom of heaven (Matt 18:3). Those are pretty powerful words. I've always had an image of Jesus lovingly welcoming the children into his arms, smiling at them and blessing them. I think this is true. But there's more to it. He was displeased with his disciples for holding them back and spoke strongly to them about it. He employed a child as an object lesson in humility for them. There's more than just Jesus' love for children here--there is real respect and esteem shown for them by their Savior and Creator.

I thought about this a lot in my moments of frustration with the kids at school. Why would Jesus want us to become tattling, back-talking, unruly scraps of humanity? Why would the kingdom of heaven belong to disrespectful, selfish imps who test patience to the limits? But the more I thought about it and called on these verses for patience, the more Jesus showed me in them.

A phrase that's often used is "childlike faith." It gets tossed around a lot, but I really understood it for the first time when the kids did a unit on Australia. To them, Australia is a far-off, almost mystical land full of strange animals and accents. But whatever they read about Australia, or whatever the teacher told them, was reality to them. They read with great excitement that a kangaroo can jump over a school bus and didn't even think to question it. Where adults might say, "That seems awfully high," or "I'll believe it when I see it," they said, "Awesome! Kangaroos are sweet! I'm a kangaroo! I'm going to jump over my bus tonight!" Nothing was outside the realm of possibility for them.

The children--most of them--are still purely honest. They haven't learned the subtleties of what's "ok" to say and what's not. Like Alex with the pencils in my earlier post. They have no qualms in saying to the teacher, "This is hard! I wish I didn't have to do this," or "I loved reading the book about Koala Lou." Even "This makes me really angry" is something they're not afraid to say. They have yet to learn the art of masking their emotions. Delight, anger, and sadness are all freely expressed by them.

They delight in things so easily. A trip to the grandparents', the class's pet hermit crab starting to come out of its shell, a classmate bringing in their dog for show and tell--these are all major deals to them. They're not yet jaded by the everyday and don't fail to delight in things that seem commonplace or mundane to us. Grasshoppers living out by the fence, the first red leaves in the fall, and the cold weather that means snow and Christmas are coming are just a few more things that the children shared their delight in with me.

Kids are not afraid to say "I don't know," or "Can you help me?" or "I need help tying my shoes" or "I don't understand this math problem" or "I can't get these fruit snacks open." Something many adults would die before saying is "I need help" or "I can't figure this out on my own." Children can't imagine any other reality. They know that they need the help of someone bigger, stronger and wiser, and it never occurs to them for a moment that they won't get that help. Teachers always know all the answers; the principals have ultimate power. And they never doubt that all of it goes toward their benefit.

The thing that touched me the most is that the children aren't afraid to express their love. They run up and throw their arms around you, turn around and smile at you, grab your hand while you're walking down the hallway, say blatantly, "I like you!" or "You're my best friend!" When does this become so hard for adults? When do the words "I love you" get pushed back? I am often so fearful of rejection that I hesitate to even offer my friendship, let alone my love. That is something that you must prove you are worthy of before I'll give it to you.

The kids are open, honest, trusting, humble and loving, while so often I am guarded, double-worded, skeptical, prideful and overly jealous of my love--and not just in my behavior toward others, but towards God. We learn such fine arts of guile and second-guessing as we grow up, and everything loses its straight-forwardness and simplicity. I can easily imagine why God would want to see people coming to Him with hearts like a little child--open, honest, fully dependent on Him and fully confident that He will meet every need.

3 comments:

The Rock Star said...

Thanks for the reminder of our general j-j-j-jaded attitudes as adults. Plus, a good use of the word "imp". :)

Kim said...

Great blog Kelsey...It's always good to be reminded to be childlike...and what that looks like. Jonelly's just impressed because I emailed her the definition of the word "imp"...so she is now enlightened. :-)

Ann said...

Amen!!! Great post! gotta work on my child-like-ness, that's for sure :)