Sadly, I couldn't comprehend a word she said, because her enunciation wasn't too clear yet. So I just nodded and smiled and told her what a pretty dress she had on.
As I walked on, I thought of what abandon this child had towards me, a stranger, and I knew God was teaching me another lesson. My God isn't a total stranger to me, but do I run to Him with such freedom and confidence that He will care what I have to say, or do I still hold Him at arm's length? Are there still reservations in my heart that keep me from opening up to Him as completely as a small child?
This child believed I would listen and understand. When I pray to my Father God, do I really trust He will listen and understand, or is there a part of me that still clings to distrust?
This child told her heart, and she probably is not worrying right now whether or not I understood her. I too often worry my conversations with people are misunderstood. I will worry about it for days, hoping I didn't say something that may have been taken up differently than I meant it.
As I reflect on all this, it amazes me that no matter how we word things, God just knows. We can babble incoherently, but He knows exactly what we're saying. We can say the wrong words, but He understands our intention. He even knows and understands every word we reserve in our heart and are afraid to say. He reaches into our deepest thoughts that we can't even put into words - every sigh, every cry, every fear.
May our Heavenly Father give us the trusting heart of a little child to run to Him with our every need, whether it's a heavy trouble weighing upon us or a bubbling excitement to thank Him for all He gives us. He is waiting for us with open arms.
What can you learn from a child's trust?
What keeps you from trusting God as a tender, loving, welcoming Father?
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