Rhythms of Grace

Am I childlike?

Nope. Life’s too serious. The world is falling apart. Maturity is glorified, joy without warrant is shameful. How dare you look around you with wide-eyed wonder when every expectation will continuously be trampled upon? 

Insert “Bubowwwww” air horn noise – no. Sorry kids (yeah does that make you uncomfortable?), you’re wrong. 

This might get you a few places… into a few worldly rooms because of your so called “maturity”, spiralling into further severity… until all the seriousness and maturity becomes weighty. It is burdensome, and joy seems to be fleeting – you know what? It’s not even joy… it’s happiness. And those moments of happiness found in the midst of the chaos are few and far between. 

Now before we get into it, what I am not saying is that spiritual maturity is wrong, spiritual maturity is found in the “my Dad knows how to make the good things I imagine come to pass” kinda faith. It’s knowing he exceeds those dreams. It’s found in the acknowledgement of needing growth. Of needing the ‘milk’ until the solid food is palatable.

But let me ask you a small question: how do we get into heaven?

We become children. Simple as that. 

Upon our Father, our Maker, our Saviour. 

We learn that in the unraveling the blood returns to the parts of us that were tangled up in the complications of the temporal.

We learn that fear of failure is not intrinsic to creativity. That all things seem possible. That (un-jaded) faith brings hope to all situations.

We learn that children know how to dance. It might look more like an elephant stomp at times than an elegant waltz… but the heart is right. And joy is inevitable. 

We learn that children lament. They cry over the small injustices and the big. 

We learn to find ourselves in that tension – giggling finger-painting one second, overcome with emotion the next. 

We learn that childlikeness is treasured by the Father. 

I don’t have it right. I never will. 

But you know what, I guess that comes with childhood doesn’t it? Unlearning that mistakes are wrong. That perfection is the goal. Growing to know that mess partnered with the Perfect One is beautiful. 

So, I leave you with this. Have a dance party. Lament over the pain of the world. Laugh in the midst of adversity and fall back into the arms of your maker. 

It’s not complicated. It’s authentic.

Don’t strive after the weight of the world, it was already carried on the back of the One who died for you on the cross. 

Amen? Amen.

LOVE

Matilda x