Let the children come

“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these” (Mark 10:14 NIV).

“You need to go upstairs and talk to Stephen. He’s really upset.” Robin informed me as she came down the steps from putting the kids to bed. She had a look of concern on her face. “I don’t know what you guys talked about earlier, but Stephen says he’s afraid that you’re going to die.”

“Hmmm… I think I know what it is. We were talking about my dad and how he died when I was eight years old. But he didn’t seem upset when I left the room.” I responded as I got up from my recliner to head up the stairs to the boy’s bedroom.

As I walked into the room, both boys lay in their captain’s quarters styled bunk beds visibly upset. Five year old Stephen was in the top bunk of the rough hewn beds rubbing his eyes and two year old Jonathan lay in the bottom bunk with his lower lip stuck out.

“What’s wrong up here?” I asked.

“Stephen is sad.” Jonathan said, a quiver in his voice. He was always very affected by his older brother’s emotional state.

“What’s wrong Stephen?” I asked.

“I don’t want you to die.” He mumbled, his voice breaking.

“What makes you think that I’m going to die?” I questioned, while stepping on the lower bunk and leaning in close to get face to face with Stephen.

“Well, your daddy died when you were little. And I’m afraid that you will too.” He stated matter-of-factly, trying to hold his emotion in check.

“I see.” I replied. “But as far as we know Jesus could come again before any of us die.” I told him, a smile on my face.

“I hope so. I hope Jesus comes before any of us die.” He said, finally relaxing a little.

“We don’t have to be afraid of death, Son. My Dad wasn’t afraid and neither am I. I know that if I die, I will be with Jesus. And I know that I will see my father again because he believed in Jesus too.” I told him, not holding back any of the truth.

“But I’m afraid to die, Daddy.” Stephen muttered, as his tears turned on again.

“Would you like to be sure that you would spend forever with Jesus in heaven? I asked.

“Uh huh.” He said, nodding his head.

“Come down and let’s talk to Jesus.” I said.

Stephen hurried out of the covers, climbed down the wooden ladder, and got down next to me. We leaned on the bottom bunk together. Stephen’s yellow pajamas exposed his bare ankles as he pulled his unsocked feet under him on the blue carpeted floor. His cotton top head bowed over folded hands.

I put my arm around him and asked, “Do you want me to pray and let you repeat after me?”

“No, I want to pray myself.” He said.

And he did. He must have been listening and thinking about this for sometime, because he prayed and asked Jesus to save him and forgive him for his sins as well as any adult. He even asked that Jesus take his fear of death away. When he finished, he raised his head and looked at me with a profound look of peace upon his face.

I hugged him and tucked him back into bed. He was as calm and untroubled as could be. The transformation was immediate and noticable. It appeared that our five year old had come to Jesus.

A few weeks later when Stephen walked forward at church to publically announce his decision and request baptism, I asked our pastor to come to our home that afternoon to discuss Stephen’s decision. Both Robin and I were concerned that he was too young. We wanted to be sure that Stephen understood.

Dr. Walker spent a few minutes asking Stephen questions about his faith. After a while, he turned to us with a smile on his face and said, “I think he understands better than most I’ve ever taught. I don’t think we should hinder him from baptism.”

We didn’t. Stephen was baptized the next Sunday.

I’m glad all three of our children came to Christ at an early age. Sure, they still had a lot of growing up to do. But I’m sure that they also avoided a lot of unnecessary heartache that living without faith would have brought.

I’m thankful that Jesus touched our children’s hearts and welcomed them into his arms.