Posted by: Bridgett.
Ann reached down to run a hand over her grandson’s hair. “I can’t play right now,” she said. “I’m making lunch. Why don’t you go read a book or something?”
The two-year-old scurried off to the next room. The wicker seat of one of the chairs crackled, and Ann pictured her grandson snuggling in with his favorite book, the one with the fuzzy bear on the cover. A few minutes later, his voice filtered to her over the sounds of cooking.
Who was he talking to? He hadn’t called for her, he didn’t have any toys in there, and nobody else was in that room. Ann turned off the stove and peaked through the doorway. She froze where she stood, as she watched her grandson carry on a casual conversation with someone she could neither see nor hear.
Sure enough, he sat in a wicker chair, his little legs straight out on the seat, with a book open on his lap. Not the bear book, though. This one was so large, it covered his legs, and it had no pictures.
He turned the pages, his eyes intent on text he couldn’t yet read. “Okay, God,” he said, nodding. “Uh-huh. Yeah, okay.” He grinned and kept turning pages. “Sure, God. Really? Oh. I love you, too, God.”
When he closed the book and looked up, Ann stepped into the room. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Just talking to God, GranGran.”
She had to swallow before speaking. “Do you know what book that is?”
He shook his head.
“That’s God’s book.” She lifted the heavy book from his lap and showed him the hard cover. “This is a Bible, a brand new one I got a few days ago.”
“Okay,” he said. “Play?”
—True account. 2005, Minnesota
The event described above happened one afternoon while my mother babysat my nephew. The Bible which sparked his amazing conversation was one he’d never before seen. Mom had bought this copy, the Amplified Bible, the previous weekend. Yet, somehow, looking through its pages prompted a conversation with God that was as real for him as talking with his grandmother.
Have you ever noticed that children, especially very young children, seem to have a unique closeness with God? Why is that?
What allows them, as is so often the case, to see and hear things we miss?
Jesus said. “I tell you the truth, you must change and become like little children. Otherwise, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. 18:3)
I’ve always heard that verse used to illustrate how God renews our innocence in His eyes once we accept Jesus and His gift of grace. All true, but I think it goes beyond that.
Not only is the child innocent of wrong, but his trust is absolute. His heart is completely open and expectant of only love and good things from the One he trusts.
For the child, there is no hopeful “maybe.” For the child, there is no “if only He would…” For the child, there is no question.
How many of us long to have a conversation with God like that of my nephew? To know, without doubt, that the words we hear in our innermost beings are from Him. For me, that knowing doesn’t happen often enough.
On this blog, we’ve compared people to lanterns God created to carry His light to the world. A lantern can’t shine until it is opened and receives the light source. It must also be re-opened often so the flame (or batteries) can be renewed.
I suggest that we, even as adults, should open our hearts to a childlike expectation that, yes, God will speak with us. Then, just sit back and wait to discover what He’ll say.
(Check out our next Scribe’s Playlist post for more about my nephew’s faith and a music video.)
What do you think? Shed Your Light below…
Why do you think children are more aware of God and the supernatural?
What are some ways we can cultivate a childlike heart?
About the author:
Bridgett Powers has defied the limitations of impaired vision and overcome a 21-year battle against chronic pain, all of which taught her a profound truth. God shines brightest through cracked lanterns.
Now, she shares that truth through her fantasy novels, picture book, and short stories. A member of ACFW and MyBookTherapy, she also serves as co-leader and writing coach for her writer’s group, operates a proofreading and editing service, and teaches writing workshops.