This past Saturday, I found myself wide awake while everyone in the house still slept. It was kind of nice, getting to sit on the couch and read a book all by myself, with no one interrupting me just as I got to a good part.
For a few minutes, at least. Soon, my son Kenny made his way into the living room, flopped into our hunter green, overstuffed recliner, and said, “Hi, Mommy.”
“Hi, Kenny,” I said.
And the house was back to being quiet again. Ahhhhh. I knew Kenny would be content to lie there quietly for awhile. I could either continue to read, or…I could go make a memory.
“Hey, Kenny,” I said, “want to go get donuts?”
We made a quick donut run, arriving back home with a large box and a bag. There was one donut and one sausage roll for each person in our family. Kenny started right in on his, and as the other kids got up, they each dug into their portion.
Timmy, my three-year-old, was halfway through his sausage roll when he brought it to me. That is, he brought me the mangled dough that had been wrapped around the (now absent) sausage. He laid it down right next to me.
It sounded like what he said (with his left cheek puffed out like a chipmunk’s because it was stuffed with the rest of the sausage roll, and his mouth full too) was, “I want it to fly into my room and come back.”
“You want it to fly into your room and come back?” I repeated, not sure I’d heard correctly.
“Yeah,” Timmy said, staring down at the remnants of the dough. After about five seconds, still looking at it, he said dejectedly, “It’s not going to fly.”
I guess he had to learn at some point that dough doesn’t fly, but I still felt bad for him. It’s a hard thing to be disillusioned. It’s much more fun when you believe anything can happen.
I think that’s one reason why Jesus said that we have to receive the kingdom of heaven as a little child if we want to enter into it. I’m sure He had other reasons, too, but I bet that was one of them. Children believe anything can happen.
We adults, however, pride ourselves on being more realistic. We’ve convinced ourselves that we are realistic about what can and can’t happen.
The problem is that sometimes, what we call “realism” is really unbelief.
We may say that we believe God can do anything, but our emotions and the attitudes of our hearts show that we believe otherwise. Our belief that God can do anything has become nothing more than intellectual assent with no practical application. Sure, He could do anything, but He’s not going to. Or if He does anything at all, it will be insignificant.
Somewhere, we bought into the belief that if God doesn’t do exactly what we want in a particular situation, then He’s not doing much of anything. Reality, however, is just the opposite. Something spectacular is always possible—even if it’s not the kind of spectacular we expect.
Timmy’s three. Eventually, he will learn that dough can’t fly. He’ll give up. But I hope he never “learns” that God doesn’t care, or can’t help, or won’t do much—and gives up on God. I hope and pray that he always believes that God can and will do incredible things, no matter the circumstances.
Even if it’s not the kind of “incredible” Timmy was looking for.
Mark 10:15—“I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” (NIV)
Matthew 19:26—Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” (NIV)