Four Year Old Faith

I pray.

Pretty much off and on all day. I need it. It's something that I do for myself, my family, others who I care about...and sometimes, complete strangers.

Today in class, one of my four years olds came to reading group and when I looked at her face I could tell something was wrong. Unsure of what it was, I asked her if she was ok. She shook her head "no" and big alligator tears rolled down her face. Her big brother had surgery earlier in the week and she was concerned. I listened and teared up a bit myself as she shared her concern...the way only a four year old can. Then she said, "Can we stop and ask Jesus to make him better?" Bingo. Yes. Let's do it.

So we prayed. We both cried and even the little boy sitting at the table with us joined as we bowed before the wonderful Savior that knows all about big brothers and little sisters and four year olds and teachers who rejoice when their students get "it" - the amazing peace that comes from bringing your hopes and dreams and cares and concerns before the only one who has the power to really change anything at all.

In beautiful four year old fashion, as soon as the Amen was said, she was ready to do her reading. Her cares tucked behind her dark brown eyes. She had talked to Jesus and she was ready for the next big thing. For her...reading groups. And I thought to myself...that's how it should be. Bring your concern, pray about it, get up and go on...leave it with God...embrace the peace He gives and get on with things.

Why do we make it so complicated? Why don't we have four year old faith? Where is our innocence in believing He's got it under control? I'm not sure, all I know is today's little lesson was for the teacher in the class...not the students.

Leave your worries with the final words of a prayer. Get up. Go on. And when you get overwhelmed again....Repeat.

Thanks for the lesson Lord.