This past week, I had the extraordinary privilege of hanging out with 14 young folks (i.e., less than 14 years old) who, when we started, had some great theology—better than mine in some ways! They also had an extraordinary number of questions (not surprising!), ranging from, “When do you think the world will end?,” to “Do you think there are babies in heaven?”
If I’d been alone, I’d have been more than ill-equipped to answer any of these questions—indeed I would have been unable to do anything of much use. But I went with my best Friend. In fact, He’s the reason I went. He’s so in love with children, and so desperately wants them to be in love with Him, to experience all He has for them, to walk with passion and zeal for their First Love. As the hours together progressed, I could see that many of the kids were amazing students, had been faithful to remember their Bible verses, and knew they were going to heaven. But they didn’t know the intensity of God’s love for them. They didn’t know the enormity of His desire to use them to bring Him glory on planet earth.
These kids emanated from all over the world. Some were Asian, some European, some American, and some had parents from two countries. But they all shared one thing—they’re strangers in a strange land. They know they’re different from the kids around them—and in more ways than the obvious ones, such as their heart language, what they like to eat, and what their religion is. But they take it all in stride. As we began the week, I told them my goal was for them to leave more in love with their Savior than when they came, and to know the enormity of His love for them more than ever.
As we pondered and discussed His magnitude, they proposed their thoughts and opinions. But none really seemed to grasp that He’s as extraordinary as He is, that He has a purpose for them, and that He’s not mean and harsh. As we went on, we talked about heaven and why they’re here on earth. We pontificated on how they were made different in every way and how no one on earth will ever be like them—or ever was—because their uniqueness is a reflection of their Creator’s. Finally, we came to the point where I realized we couldn’t talk anymore—because God had to prove Himself and could do far better than I could help Him to do it!
On the first night, the children’s homework was to ask God to make Himself real to them. The youngest child in the group came back the next day, and excitedly announced, “I did my homework!”
In all honesty, I’d been so busy, I’d forgotten what I’d asked them to do. “Tell us about it,” I offered safely.
“I asked God to show Himself to me,” he shared.
“And what happened?,” I asked.
“I had a dream and there was this big, big beautiful light,” he began. “And then I heard a voice that said, ‘Come up’.”
All of the older children (me included) stared (mostly with jealousy, I think). Then a teenaged girl shared that she had a dream about war on earth, then went up higher and shared with another girl who was struggling in her faith. But as she saw the battle below her intensify, she went back down to fight. Not bad for a first try, huh?
About five of the kids said God had somehow answered them that night, but the “brain-ee-acs” all looked a little taken aback. Used to excelling in school and whizzing through their homework, they didn’t have much of a response to this assignment because it was with their spirits that they had to seek God, not their brains.
On the final day, I sent a text to a friend asking her to pray. I knew that the session the Lord was asking me to do depended completely on Him and there was almost nothing I could do to make it successful. I was nervous because I knew that if He didn’t come through, the children would leave disappointed, and I would probably be even moreso!
I asked all of them to lay on the floor, face down (as people did in ancient days when praying, and as they still do where we live; my reasoning is that it just prevents us from becoming distracted by watching what’s happening with those around us). Some were allergic to dust, so I got special cloths to put their faces on so as to cut down on the sneezing. We began by inviting the Lord to come in His holiness, power, truth, and love, and to reveal Himself to these children. The result was more than I could ask.
In the first place, not one of them moved much at all for at least and hour—and for anyone who knows children—this is almost a miracle in itself. “They probably fell asleep,” some of you may be thinking. I wondered the same thing myself, but knew that even there, our wonderful King could meet them.
I prayed for each of them and read scripture as soft worship music played in the background. Finally, I told them if they felt they were finished, to please quietly sit up. Slowly, one by one, they arose—some almost in a daze. I looked at their sweet faces and thought, “I believe, Lord, You did it again.”
After most were in sitting position, I began asking what happened. All of them related something, with a deep sense of peace being the least of their responses. The two most amazing came from the two who sat up last—and who were the youngest (10 years old). The first was the one with the dream of the great light. He said that he saw a waterfall and unsurprisingly, felt the presence of King Jesus.
The second was even more astonishing, coming from the squirmiest and most talkative child in the group. She sat up about 20 minutes after everyone else, and her eyes were far off--gazing somewhere the rest of us couldn't see. I asked her what happened, and she said that she saw herself at a place where men hang out, discussing politics and drinking tea (very popular here). That came as quite a surprise, and I asked her what she was doing there. “I was talking with them,” she said. “About what?,” I queried.
“About Jesus,” she responded.
Wow, that one threw me. And then I realized how like our God that was. People here love children and love to chat with them. How like the Lord to use a 10-year-old girl to speak about Him to a bunch of men (where women and children—especially girls—are usually not permitted to go). And all of this happened in her spirit, as she lay on the floor. I won’t try to explain it because I can’t (but I trust that the Lord was in it because of what happened and because she said that she still felt really nice, like she was floating).
At that moment I knew—the mission was accomplished! The Lord met His children and they were all touched. Some of them had more profound experiences than others, but all of them had felt His gracious presence, and know that He loves them.
I received a card from them, and a sentence from one of the oldest boys sticks out, “Thank you so much for coming. I had no idea how much I needed this.”
Having done much preparation, and then fighting through a lot of sickness and a full day of traveling and stress to get there, this made it all worthwhile. What a great privilege it is to minister to “the least of these.”
If I stay out of hot water with their parents, that’d be nice, too! I try very hard to stick with Scripture and things that happened in the Bible to point to what we’re able to experience and live today, if we follow the God Who made us for His glorious purposes. But ultimately, it’s not the parents I serve; it's our Father. If He is pleased, I am thrilled. And if I cause one of the little ones to stumble, I shall be miserable. I pray diligently this never happens, for His deepest longing is to connect with His children—whatever our age.
“For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen.”
(Rom 11:36)
I live near the sea and boats are a frequent sight. I can also drive up the shore and watch the boats, birds and waves. I’ve been looking at boats a lot lately, wondering what kind I would be, if I was made a boat. For example, wouldn’t it be great to be a yacht, to travel wherever there are open ports, eating luscious food on board, watching brilliant sunsets. But if I was in dry-dock all the time because I had beautiful shiny wood and cost a fortune to maintain, that would pretty much cut down on my usefulness, so maybe a yacht wouldn’t be the best boat to be…. 
Sail boats are beautiful—sleek and fast, but only good for transportation when the wind is blowing. If I want to spend my time enjoying life, resting and seeing the scenery, this is ideal. But if I’m about my Father’s business, and if I must travel quickly, weathering lots of storms, this isn’t the boat to be.
There are probably many more boats I haven’t mentioned, but what about the passenger ferry? It takes people where they need to go (think discipleship). I really like the sound of that! It works with lots of others to be where it needs to be at the right time and its only purpose is to transport people from one place to another. Yup, I think if I was to be a boat, I’d choose that one. But maybe the most important thing is to stay in the sea, not in dry dock, or even at port. Otherwise, I’m not going to be able to serve my appointed purpose. Let’s get in the water, boat or no, and start swimming, shall we? 
