Sometimes I long for the security of childhood. I long to wake up each day not knowing what is going to happen and not needing to know. To know that something fun and exciting is going to happen and that I’m not responsible for anything except being nice and polite. To have nothing to dread when I wake up and no defining decisions to keep me awake into the night when my head hit the pillow.
I look back on childhood and think of birthday parties, swimming outings, snowmen and family dinners. The world was a bright and beautiful place full of people who loved and cared about me and were always happy and carefree.
What was my childhood? Bliss. Oblivion. And that’s how it was supposed to be.
But, I’m not a child anymore. I now know the fun things and moments cost money and things won’t just happen. Even the fun things require hard work and often sacrifice.
I now know that the grownups, who were always just smiling, loving faces, have conflicts, grudges and deep seeded issues I never knew were there.
Now I look at my parents and I know their problems. I know their shortcomings. They are not perfect superheroes any more. They are not carefree and without pain like I thought they were.
Maybe this is why God calls us to be like children, not to elicit our obedience and dependence, but to carry for us the knowledge, disillusionment and responsibility of adulthood.
“‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.’ And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on the and blessed them.” – Mark 10:14-16