Was I failing? This little girl of mine was not only refusing to ask Jesus into her heart, but she was unsure of what she believed. What 7-year-old child rejects her parents’ beliefs? Wasn’t that for the older, more turbulent years of high school and college? Don’t most kids from Jesus-following homes accept him before they can ride a bike?
I wondered. I prayed. And even though a call to the grandparents telling them my girl had accepted Jesus was desirable and honestly, expected, I admired her spunk. I admired her desire to think through this serious decision. I admired her questions. I wanted her faith, when it came to have deep roots, that enabled her stand in the storm. I kept thinking of those seeds scattered by the farmer and which kind of soil I wanted my girl to be.
I hadn’t planned on exploring Islam and Judaism and Buddhism with my girl so young. She could barely understand. But we explored those subjects through the library and compared them to Jesus. Because my observant girl had noticed from her diverse friends at school who followed other faiths, that “someone had to be wrong” and that her muslim friend’s parents appeared to be believing as strongly in their faith as we did in ours. And she saw the problem. She said she couldn’t follow Jesus unless she was sure He was True.
And I marveled at her wisdom and tenacity and observation. And I prayed for the seed to fall on good soil and make deep roots. I prayed that answered questions so young would help with the questions that come later on. And I let go of my preconceived ideas of how a child in a Christian home finds faith and we explored together, her looking for answers and me trusting my God to help her find them.
Taking 5 minutes today to write what is on my heart on the word: Roots. If you think you might be blessed by doing the same or reading the words of other friends who do, head over to Lisa Jo’s.