My son is 8, and he asks me a lot of questions about God. How do we know that God exists? How did the Bible get written? How can it be that God was never created? What happens to the people that never heard about God? How do you hear God’s voice? Why doesn’t he talk in a voice that everyone can hear?
“Really kid? You’re eight.” So I bought him a book called “801 Questions Kids Ask About God.” His response? “Finally!”, as he ripped the book out of my hands, and ran upstairs to start reading.
He is definitely a thinker, and he gives me a run for my money. I have tried to answer all his questions as best I can. But in reality, these are hard questions for believers of any age. There is certainly an eliminate of faith involved in some of these answers. And I was totally feeling my inadequacy, as I tried to recall what I had been taught in high school Bible class.
Fast forward three months…
My husband and youngest daughter went to Panama for a week to visit his Mom. The first night they were gone was AWFUL. My daughter literally wailed (note: she wailed, not cried) for over an hour (seriously) because she missed her Papi. My son is not quite as expressive, he mainly just wanted her to be quiet because his solution was to think about something else instead, and her wailing made him keep thinking about it. (I find that response fascinating, but will save it for another day.)
I ended up reading the kids a scripture that God had led me to that morning during my prayer time. My son was amazed at the thought that God could send the exact message we needed to hear at the right moment. The look of joy on his face warmed my heart.
The next day God led me to another scripture, I read it to the kids at breakfast. They did not say much.
Friday morning, I thought I would help God along, and pick out a scripture to read on my own. And God said, “no way”, and instead He led me to another scripture for them. After I read it to the kids at breakfast, my son jumped up and said with great joy in his heart, “Now I know that God is Real!”
I asked him what he meant by that. He basically told me that he had wanted to believe in God, but now because of these scriptures, he knew that God heard his prayers and cared about him. He told me, “Mami, it makes me feel better inside when you read the Bible to me.”
For months I had seen him struggling. I could see him trying to figure out in his little brain how to believe in a God that he can’t see, hear or touch. And now he believed.
It didn’t happen because of any great argument I made, wonderful book he read, or from a stellar Sunday School lesson. Rather it happened in a moment at the table, begun out of desperation, taking two minutes to read God’s Word.
It was then that he knew that God heard his prayers, that God saw Him, and cared.
I am sure that this little thinker of mine will still have more thinking to do on the subject. But I pray that he will always remember this moment as being the time when he first knew that God really was real.
Amen. So be it. It would have been enough for me.
“Seek peace and pursue it” Psalm 34:14b