I want to believe like Lizzy believes. I want childlike faith.
She’s obsessed with “hearts” right now. Every electronic device in the house has been repurposed as a stethoscope (daddy is proud, of course). The phone, my iPod, the thermometer—all get placed upon our chests. Lizzy holds the item against us and says “heart.”
She was holding the thermometer to my chest while I was changing her diaper, and I figured that since she knows what a heart is, she might be ready to talk about what it means, its metaphorical meaning of love and compassion. (You’ve got to know that the literature instructor in me is anxious to teach her about metaphor.)
After she pointed to my “heart,” I told her that Jesus lives there. And she didn’t look shocked in the slightest.
I just told her that the guy in her picture Bibles, who is at once a baby and also a grown man, is living inside my chest. He’s also the guy that died but is also alive. This wasn’t a problem for her.
“Alright,” she said.
That was it. Jesus is in my heart. If you ask her where Jesus is, she’ll point to mommy’s heart.
What a privilege it is for me to share these important truths with my daughter. If only I could so readily accept Truth.
With Lizzy’s faith, I would read that God works out all things for the good of those who love him (Romans 8:28), and I’d say “alright.” Meaning, I wouldn’t freak out so much when the dinner I prepared crashes to the floor, where its container shatters into a million shards (tonight’s lovely example). I’d recognize that God has a greater purpose, even though the situation stinks at the moment.
I’d read that God is the healer, meaning he can heal anything (Exodus 15:26). So the hamstring I pulled this morning during my workout wouldn’t worry me so much. God could heal it in an instant, if it worked out according to his purpose (see above).
And the power outage we had this morning for a few hours wouldn’t concern me as much. I’d remember what Jesus said about the birds of the air and the lilies of the filed, how they don’t need to worry because God cares for them (Luke 12:24-27). And they don’t have electricity either.
Lord, grant me Lizzy’s faith.
If you’ve never read Robert Munger’s little story, My Heart, Christ’s Home, I highly recommend it.
For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:14-19 ESV).