Childlike Faith is Presence

As I was talking with a dear friend of mine on the phone this morning, I was expressing a revelation that I had as of late.

I recently found myself praying for God to give me childlike faith. However, I've realized that this kind of faith is not just a matter of belief -- it's a state of mind.

I was observing my cousin's little toddler the other day. In my carnal, human, and imperfect flesh, I can look at a child and see that their joy is a product of not yet being weighed down by the burdens of the world. However, in this moment, I forced myself to really be present as I watched little Bo run through the yard after his big brother's motorized vehicle. There was a look of pure joy on his face, as if he was fully immersed in the moment. For a second, I met Bo where we was at and understood why he must have felt weightless: children are present-minded and simple. They do not allow the grip of the future or the past to prevent them from enjoying the moment. They are altogether more unthinking compared to us grown-ups.

This only touches the surface of the art of mindfulness, present-moment awareness, and the process of practicing the simplicity of childlike faith. However, here are some examples of the beauty of youthful living:

One of my occupations includes taking care of an autistic man named Mike. Him and I have walked around the perimeter of the park quite frequently as of lately. The weather has been a beautiful blessing but my mind often starts to drift towards the cares of this world during the leisure time. With his arm or hand in my own, I have begun to sing a song inspired by Philippians 4:8: "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things."

My song reads somewhere along the lines of this: "I choose to think onnnn, things that are lovely, things that are worthy, things that are pureeee. I choose to think onnnn, things that are present-minded, things that are God's will, things that are I love you, things that are I'm proud of you, things that are faith-filled."

It's little practices like this that don't have to sound beautiful or be eloquent, but can remind us that children are not worried about the beautiful or the eloquent. Children are focused on having fun in the now and are consequently full of faith and acceptance without the disturbance of reasoning and worries. Children sing out loud, they do cartwheels, they dance like nobody is watching.

During our phone call, my friend expressed her own example of this. She went on a run the other day and stopped at a park along the way. She played on the swing and said that time felt timeless.

This is what life is like for children. They do not have a concept of time, so they experience the freedom of now. One can say that now is all that we have.

My read of Psalm 40 the other day hit me as so powerful and beautiful -- specifically this verse that gives me inspiration for a children's story: "You did it; you changed wild lament / into whirling dance; / you ripped off my black mourning band / and decked me with wildflowers."

It can remind all of us that to know the loveliness of beautiful wildflowers, we must first know the despair of wild lament.

"And he said: 'Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.'"