The Faith of a Child

The boys and I had a play date at Chick-fil-A today with some of our best friends. Profound things happen to us at "Chicken-fill-leg", as Liam calls it. We met these friends at that chicken diner almost a year ago. They're not just "any" friends. They are a trans-racial, adoptive family just like us, which is a rarity. But I'm digressing already.

As we sat in the play area, [Clarification: we moms sat, the boys definitely did not!] a young girl started up a conversation with us about Jesus.
Little girl: Jesus talked to me.
My friend: He did? What did He say?
Little Girl: He said, 'Charity, I love you.' [some inaudible words] My name is Charity.
My Friend: Charity, that's a great name. I'm glad Jesus talked to you.
Little Girl: Yes, He talks to me. Do you know Him?
My Friend: Yes, I do know Him, and I'm glad you do, too.
Me: Charity, how old are you?
Little Girl: Four.
My Friend and Me: Wow!

And so, this little conversation showed me a few things.

  • There is, indeed a huge difference between boys and girls. I mean, obviously, there's a difference, but since I have all boys, it is very easy for me to lose sight of this. My three boys are all off climbing the play structure and not thinking once about Jesus, as far as I can tell. Liam is not much younger than this girl, and I guarantee you that he would not walk up to strangers and begin talking about Jesus. When he walks up to strangers, he wants to talk about silly things, such as putting peanut butter pickles on their heads. (Yes, he's 3 1/2, and his sense of humor centers around gross combinations of food.)
  • I'm also thinking, "Did her parents have reason to name her 'Charity'? Did they have any idea that she would be so giving of her faith?"
  • All the while I'm thinking about the above, my mind is also saying, "Whoa! Wait a minute. This four year-old is witnessing to us!" I'm an adult, and I don't have the courage to walk up to strangers in Chick-fil-A and say, "Hey, Jesus talks to me. Do you know Him?" This young child has an amazing faith, yet I don't think she has any more faith than I. So, why don't I share my faith in such a bold manner as she?
  • Then, I think, "I want my boys to have such bold faith." I immediately prayed about that, but I also realize that I must exemplify such faith for them. It is my job to teach them such things.

So, along with my chicken sandwich, I ate a serving of humble pie. Little did I know that a four year-old stranger could teach me so much in a matter of minutes.

Father, forgive me for not being bold for You. I know that the faith of a mustard seed can move mountains, so I know that my faith could cause others to turn towards You. But I must be bold enough to speak my faith. Please strengthen me and prompt me to share my faith with others. Above all, show me how to teach my boys such bold faith. Amen.

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