Apr 30, 2013

The Faith of a Child....

Do you remember the movie The Santa Claus, with Tim Allen?  It was my favorite Santa Clause movie of all time.  What I loved about it was that anything that had to do with Santa Clause just happened.  It was magic.  Whether you believed it or not, whether you tried to figure out how it could be, none of this mattered at all.  It just happened.  It was magic.  You could count on it even if you could not for the life of you figure out "how" or "why".  You had to move with it and deal with it anyway, because it was going to happen, due to it being magic.
It was a great lesson in faith, to me.  When it comes to God, and faith, it doesn't matter whether you believe it or not, or whether you can figure out the "how" or the "why".  It just happens.  Because it's God.  Faith is counting on it anyway.
It is nothing more than having the faith of a child, which we have all mastered by the time we are a year old.  Why do we have to make it more complicated than that?  That would just be a waste of time.
"For one who believes, no explanation is necessary.  For one who does not believe, no explanation is adequate."  Who said that?  I forget, but it's still the truth anyway.
Children just believe, without worrying about the details.  We should take a lesson from them.
For me, wi-fi is a good example of this.  To me, it's just magic.  I cannot for the life of me figure out how it works, but it does.  It's just like magic to me.
Here is a recent slice of an evening spent with my favorite "widdle big kid", Abigail Lea, that brought this all back to me.

Abigail and I outside looking at the moon.  
Our voices floating down the street, where I hope we are not disturbing those already in bed. 
 Looking at the moon.
I mention how amazing the universe is and how God made it all.
Which brings her to a question that has been rolling around in her head for awhile.

"Hey, where is God at?  He has to be somewhere...."

*skips a straight line where the driveway meets the lawn, leans down and looks inside the jonquil leaves, alternately bringing her hands up like a pirouette,  then swinging them down so that one brushes along the leaves of the jonquils, feet moving continuously, landing daintily, coming down so assuredly, dancing a straight line that leaves me amazed*

"He's everywhere, all the time," I reply.

"Is He here?  In front of me?  I can't see him."

*Waves her hands in the air,as if she can conjure up God in front of her, (perhaps she can).  Looks down, ruffles the jonquil leaves, looks up, spins around, stops because we are at the end of the drive, turns around looking at the sky.  Giggles.*

"Of course not, silly, He's not a human, like us, He's a spirit, you have to feel him in your heart.  Can't you feel how much He loves you?"

*She closes her eyes, lifts her arms up over head, and says "Yes!  I can!  He loves me more than the moon and the stars!"

The same as her mother and I.  Go figure.

*starts the skip back, now with the other hand brushing the jonquil leaves, dancing all the way.  I can almost hear the angel wings around us. She is a sprite dancing, 

a fairy flitting,

 perfectly magic, 

all things good and pure, 

happy, beloved, safe*

We stop at the end of the porch.  She turns around, waves.

"Good night, moon, good night, stars."

She dances ahead, leading me, her faithful companion, in for the night.

We have our routines.

  It's time for bed, and (more) prayers.

Right before she drifts off to sleep, though yawns, she assures me that of all little girls who have loved me, she loves me best, and always will.

I tell her that's just how God loves us, always.