Friends, I recognize I’ve been inconsistent here and I’m sorry. Not that I think you’re waiting on pins and needles for the next post – oh goodness, please shake me hard if I ever think like that.

I’m honored and excited and blessed to be working on a new project but between this new said project and wife-ing and mothering, well . . . you know.

The other day, I was going through my fifth grade daughter’s work and I found this:

Sarah's answer about the explorers and Indians

Now listen. I’m not one of those parents who thinks their kids are perfect and ultra-righteous. I know they mess-up because they’re disabled by the flesh just like I am.

But maybe this is what Jesus meant when he said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me” (Matthew 18:3-5)

Yes, faith like a child.

To not be worried about things that may not even happen.

To not see different colors of skin.

To laugh and giggle over things that don’t even make sense but fill us with joy.

To simply just believe in things we cannot see.

I don’t care if my kids are the smartest in their class. Or the prettiest or most handsome. Or the funniest or most popular or always win at “Around the World.”

But I do want them to be considered among the kindest and most compassionate. And I do care that they understand, I mean truly, really, know in their hearts, the meaning of the gospel.

Because that’s what transforms and sets on fire.

And faith like a child does just that.


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