Monday, February 16, 2009

The Kingdom of God belongs to such as these. . .

So I was sitting in Denny’s the other morning enjoying a leisurely breakfast. One of my favorite pastimes is observing people. Not the “creepy” kind of observing (at least I hope it doesn’t come across that way…), but simply a time to study human nature and see where the thought processes lead me.

On this particular morning I was aware of several tables with adults conversing and seeing a noticeable stress on their faces. There was no yelling or swells of emotions…but a perceivable angst in the air. Then walks in a couple with a four year old girl and luckily she sat facing me just a few tables away.

There was such a wide-eyed wonder and innocence in her actions and mannerisms; it was all too obvious that everyone else in the restaurant had left that kind of unfettered purity far behind…including myself. I watched with admiration and a bit of envy, and wondered if somehow—in the pursuit of “maturing” and “growing up and being responsible”—we have all over-compensated the growing up process to completely shun, or have forgotten, those uncorrupted beginnings.

Then one of the stories I remembered reading in the gospels struck me. Jesus told a crowd of people that unless they receive the kingdom of God like a little child, they will never enter it. Of course I realize we can’t stay young and innocent forever…nor should we. But I do believe Jesus was trying to drive home a very significant point. We ought to be looking beyond our jobs, our status, our possessions. Is the weight of our worries over bills, entertainment, relationships…stuff, balanced proportionally to that which really matters?

I think we would all be well served to approach our salvation with a wide-eyed wonder and innocence that comes so natural to children. I would like to think that when I stand before God and heaven’s gates that I stand there like a little four-year old with arms outstretched knowing my Father can pick me up and hug me without being weighed down by all the junk I once worried about.

Greg Morton
© February 16, 2009