What Is It Jesus?

Every night, the same thing.

After stories, we snuggle under the covers and say the same prayer we’ve been saying since she was a baby.

Lately, she’s been asking me what certain things mean in her prayer.  “We pray that you would call her, and nothing would hinder her from coming.”  She interrupts me and asks “what’s call and hinder and coming?  What’s that mean mama?”  She sucks her thumb and looks up at me ready for an explanation.

“Well…”  I begin, trailing off, trying to find the simplest way to explain this to my almost three-year-old.

“Jesus can speak to us, He can call us.  Just like mama tells you things, Jesus can tell you things too,” I say.

“But I don’t hear him.  What’s he saying?” She asks, so matter of factly.

“I don’t hear Him with my ears either, ” I tell her honestly.  “But He speaks to our hearts.  He calls our hearts and tells us things, things that we don’t hear with our ears.  Our heart can feel Him and we know He’s telling us something.  When we feel Him calling our heart, we need to stop and listen!  If He’s asking us to do something, we need to obey immediately.  That’s why I pray that nothing would hinder you from coming.  I want you to hear His voice when He calls your heart and I want you to listen to Him!”

She pauses, sits up and looks up at the ceiling.  “What is it Jesus?” she asks.  “Oh?  You want me to lay down?  Okay.”

Satisfied she asks me to finish praying and we snuggle back in, finish praying and give kisses goodnight.

As I’m closing her door, the sweet innocence and faith of a little not yet 3 year old is tugging at my own heart and begging me to ask the same.  What is it Jesus?  What is it?

So many days I am telling Jesus what I want, what I need, what I hope for.  All good things, yes,  How often do I just sit there and ask what is it?

So many days I am waiting on the thing, not waiting on Him.

What is it Jesus?

The hours and hours pouring before him the things I want, not asking what He wants.

What is it Jesus?

The simple heart of little toddler gets it immediately.

What is it Jesus?

I see more and more why Jesus tells the disciples to be like little children (Matthew 18:13, Luke 18:16) as I watch my little girl’s heart grow.  While there is still so much for her to learn, there is so much she has learned already.

What is it Jesus?  What is it you want from me today?  What is it You’re revealing to me today?  What is it you want to teach me today?  

Let me be like my little girl and simplify what I often complicate.  Let me just ask what is it Jesus?  May nothing hinder me from coming!  A prayer for my little babe, and a prayer for me… For always, as I will surely learn this time and time again. 🙂

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Good Friday, Through the Eyes of a 2 Year Old

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“Will Jesus protect me?  Is Jesus here with me??”  She sits up in the bed every single night and asks the same question.  Only until I reassure her that Jesus is always here with us will she lay back down and snuggle in for the night.  “If you get scared, just say Jesus.  He is right here with you.”  I tell her, and she gets comfy and closes her eyes.

Oh to have faith like a little child.  Lord let me learn from my daughter and have faith like her!

Putting her to sleep last night, I told her that tomorrow was Good Friday.  We would color eggs and remember what Jesus did for us.

“Good Friday?” she asked, looking at me with that 2 year old inquisitive look as if I needed to explain immediately.  “What’s good friday?”

“Good Friday is when Jesus died for us baby,” I replied, and she immediately looked at me with horror.  Snuggling under the covers, she said she needed to talk about it.  Tell me the story, she said.

So I told her how there were mean men who didn’t believe how good Jesus was.  They didn’t believe He was God’s son, didn’t know that Jesus loved them so much.  They wanted to kill him.  They made a cross, took nails and hammers and nailed Jesus’ hands and feet to the cross.  It hurt.  Jesus cried.  And he died on Good Friday.

She stared at me like this was the worst, most morbid thing she had ever heard.  Her little eyes, the corners of her mouth- everything about her face told me she didn’t understand.  How could Jesus, who was with her every night– die?!

“But the good thing about Good Friday is that He didn’t stay dead!  Three days later, on Easter, we celebrate that Jesus rose from the dead!  He wasn’t dead anymore.  He’s alive, Maya!  He’s in heaven, and He’s here.  He’s always with us.  He died so that we could live with Him forever. He’s not dead anymore.  On Good Friday we remember that He had to die so we could be with Him, and on Easter we celebrate that He’s alive.”

She smiled.  “And He’s here with us in our hearts!”  She exclaimed.

Suddenly satisfied with the end of the story, she was okay and ready to go to sleep.  She didn’t even ask me if Jesus would protect her or was there with her that night, because I think she already knew.

She might just be at my favorite stage yet (although each stage I’ve said that so it’s likely her entire life will be my favorite stage!).  A ball of snuggles, a blanket (gabby!) and her thumb.   She’s a little piece of heaven on earth and I literally can’t handle it sometimes!  On nights like this when her little faith heart is so big and receptive, I realize how much responsibility I have as a parent to guide and cultivate her heart towards Jesus.  It is overwhelming at times.  I pray I will have the words and the actions and the heart to reflect a piece of what Jesus is, and that nothing would hinder her from coming towards Him when He tugs at her heart and calls her to Him.

Happy Good Friday friends!  May we take time to remember the somberness of today, the goodness today, the hope of tomorrow and the security of our future because of what He did for us!

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