A Six-Year-Old's Love for God

It's been a long time since I was six years old, 

or since any of my children were six years old.

But a couple weeks ago Jonathan and I checked out a post shared by a friend on Facebook.  It was a post about a pastor's family who were in the hospital with their six-year-old after a tragic situation where the child's skull had been accidentally pierced by a piece of metal from a broken raquet on the sidelines while her siblings were playing a game. 

  The child's life was hanging in the balance, and when I searched for any new news a couple days later, I learned that God had chosen to take the little girl Home.

She was just six years old. But exactly one month to the day before she died, she had asked her mother what it meant to believe in Jesus for salvation, and her mother had explained as best she could, though she wasn't sure the child understood.

The little girl had not wanted to pray with her mother, but said she would go pray by herself. Whatever happened there by herself, no one knew. But after her death, the family looked through a little journal that the little girl had begun to keep after her little tryst with God.

t

And in that journal, there was page after page of drawings from this little girl's heart. 

Drawings of hearts,

clouds (God), stick figures, and more hearts.

In her own way, the child was expressing, day after day her love for God.  

 If I were six years old, I thought to myself recently, what kind of pictures would I draw?

Last night, I wrote a little of this story down in my own journal, with a pencil, while my feet soaked in an ionic detox soak.

And I drew a little picture. 

It's not any better than a six-year-old's. 

But I hoped it would show a little of my love, too, for my God, and my desire that His love, through me would be shown and felt by others.

And I pray that my love will not just be a picture, but will be lived out in daily living, as I, though an adult, learn from a child how to love God simply and freely and with all my heart.