Let The Little Children Come

A lot of folks look at me a bit odd when I tell them that I learn just as much from the three kids as they learn from me. But it is so very true.

Nancy Caroline teaches me to notice the details, pay attention to the small things in life.  She teaches me to do everything I do 150%...because that is what she does. One of my favorite things I have learned from her as of late is worry and fear are choices you make. These things can be overcome. This child is wise beyond her years.

Sadie teaches me to be silly, even in the most serious of situations. Being silly is good for the soul.  She also teaches me to just “be” sometimes. She is resourceful…fiercely resourceful. I learn independence from her. I have no doubt that this little girl will grow to be an independent, strong, confident woman.

I have been learning from Jackson the longest, of course. Determination, bravery, and overcoming obstacles…Jackson excels at these things. He has always taught me not to take myself so seriously. And his laugh makes anyone realize that laughter is a necessity, not an option.

As their mother, I have stored specific teachable moments from them in my heart and my memory recalls them often. In the last few weeks, a little lesson I learned from Jackson has been playing over and over in my mind and heart.

The City of Children is an orphanage for children in Baja, Mexico. It is based on love of God and the love of children. It is a beautiful place with so many beautiful children.  Michael and I both traveled there as college students and continued to visit together after we married. It was only natural to take Jackson there shortly after he was born.

On his first trip to The City, he and I joined a group out of Nashville. Michael stayed behind, immersed in rotations and medical books. Jackson was a hit! The children loved the fair skinned five month bundle of fun. The little girls liked to push his stroller. The little boys gave him soccer balls to hold.  The children Michael and I had watched grow up, now loved on our little one as we had loved on them.

On this specific trip we not only had work to do inside the orphanage walls, but we also traveled outside into rural areas to fill needs of folks that were struggling. One day of our trip was spent shopping for groceries at a local store and then traveling to give some relief in the form of food. Rice, beans, tortillas, fruit…all in the name of Jesus.

Our team would pile out of the van and grab the food and then head into the house to meet with the family and pray. We met dads and moms, single mothers, and lots of kids. They were thankful and prayerful. And they all were fascinated by Baby Jackson.

I held tight to my baby boy, knowing he was safe in my arms. There was a fear. Looking back now I don’t really understand of what I was afraid. Maybe I was afraid he would fall onto the rough Mexico loose dirt walkways. Maybe I was afraid of a foreign germ. Maybe it was just the unfamiliar. Maybe it was just being a mom.

We stood outside one home that seemed to be filled with a dozen kids. It was a small makeshift house that I was pretty sure didn’t have electricity or plumbing. I remember wondering how they all slept in such a small space.

One by one the kids began to gather round me, reaching to touch Jackson’s cheeks and hands and chunky little legs. I began to panic. Their little hands were dust and dirt covered, some having snotty noses and matted hair.  They asked to hold him, to which I immediately made excuses as to why they couldn’t. I held onto him even tighter, keeping him perfectly perched high on my hip.

Then a dusty, tanned, dark eyed little girl came over with a soft little smile. To this day I can still vividly see her face. She didn’t say a word, but just reached out her arms, breaking the language barrier by a gesture that was undeniable.

“Come to me. Let me hold you.”

I tightened, but at the same time Jackson plunged his little arms into hers. He grabbed onto her and giggled with excitement. Being humbled by son, I let go and watched as the little girl bounced him on her hip and talked to him in a language that made him gaze at her with curiosity.She kissed his check as he returned the favor.  At six months old, Jackson was wiser and more accepting and loving than his mother. I watched carefully and learned the most beautiful lesson from my baby boy.

In three of the four gospels, we find Jesus teaching and preaching. Some parents show up, bringing their kids to meet Jesus. They hoped He would pray for them and lay His hands on the children. That’s when the disciples called a time out. I can just hear the scolding…

“Don’t you dare bother Him! Don’t you know He is the Messiah! He doesn’t have time for these children!”

The parents must have been so embarrassed. Some were probably livid for how they had been spoken to by these followers of Christ. But can you imagine the disappointment and hurt in the children’s eyes as they began to back up and walk away, untouched, unprayed for, unloved?

“Let the little children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of God belongs to those who are like these children. I tell you the truth, anyone who doesn’t receive the Kingdom of God like a child will never enter it.”

Oh the joy that must have been present between Jesus and those kids as they were allowed to run into His arms! I bet they climbed onto His lap, thrilled just be with their Lord. We have a lot to learn…

Jesus wasn’t afraid of the dust. He wasn’t disgusted by the snotty noses and matted hair. He extended His arms and an invitation.

I am pretty sure God wants us to go into any situation willing to learn, but not always eager to teach. We should pass no judgment, we shouldn’t be too busy, but we should love unconditionally.

We better get busy opening our doors, freeing up a little extra time, and start inviting the little ones, no matter what they look like or where they come from, to “come to Him”.  

This can look lots of different ways.  It might even be as simple as saying a kind word or explaining something in a calm and loving manner. Maybe it’s volunteering at a local school. It could look like pulling a child on your lap when no one else will. You could give up a few hours to help with homework, do a service project, and play a few games. It could look like attending a football game, finding a common ground, or sitting down to a bible study. This could be as big as taking someone as your own.

The way I see it, the only way the little children can come to Jesus today is through us.