Hope in the Faith of a Child

by Alecia Klauk
(Chapin, SC)

Today is a big day in my house: a day of hope and promise. A day full of joy and celebration. A day of eternal Hope.

Today is my 7 year old daughter's spiritual birthday.

Could there be anything more full of hope? To know that I will spend eternity with my beloved child, to know that our primary relationship is as sisters in Christ, to know that her sins are forgiven? Glorious!

I want to tell you the story of her salvation.
But first, I have to tell you a bit of my own.

My spiritual birthday is March 7. I know the date because my mom made it important, and we celebrated that day like a birthday: presents, special meals, a day set aside. It was important, and I am thankful for that legacy. I am thankful because it IS important, and my mom taught me to relish and respect that sacredness.

My mom is an amazing woman. For as long as I can remember, she has been teaching Bible studies, and I grew up at her praying knees, Bible open in her lap. I accompanied her every time she lead a young girl to Christ, and so I heard the path of salvation many times. When I was 9, after years of such well-watered seed, something clicked.

I was in the car with my mom, driving down the interstate a few miles from home, around 5:30 in the evening, and I knew. I had long known that Jesus had died for sin, but in that moment, I knew He had died for MY sin. I was lost and bound for hell because I deserved to be, and I desperately needed a Savior. So in our little Honda wagon, I asked the God in Heaven to forgive me and save my soul. That was 25 years ago.

When I had kids, I knew that if I could teach them in the ways of God the way my mom had me, I'd be doing good! When Sierra, my 10 year old, accepted Christ at 4 years old, I was amazed. I also questioned it extensively. I did not lead her in prayer: she prayed herself.

She had been asking questions for months and had been instructed for years, so as we were driving home from preschool one day and she wanted more, I shouldn't have been surprised. She asked me again about Jesus and the meaning of the cross. I explained it to her and told her that we need to ask for forgiveness to receive salvation. She said she wanted to do that, right then.

I pulled the car over and listened to her pray. It was pure and real and theologically accurate. But still I questioned it. As I was furiously asking God to confirm it and rapid-firing clarifying questions to her, Sierra says to me, "Mom, I just asked Jesus to forgive me, and He listens to me when I pray." Ok. Got it. I just a rebuke from my seconds-old-in-Christ 4 year old! She's still teaching me volumes and may be the most spiritually mature person I know!

But I learned something that day (which we will celebrate on September 10: she'll be 6!). I learned that the gospel is made to be easily understood, and that even though I was totally willing to wait for full comprehension, the truth was that God was wooing my daughter while she was young. I knew I could not hinder this little child.

So a few years later as Serenity was approaching 4 years old, my instruction in the cross intensified. Again, I did not want to push. I just knew that it was possible for her to understand. So day after day, we talked about Jesus and read the Word.

As a very vocal and communicative child, she understood much, even at 3 years old. We would talk about sin and forgiveness, and she would ask me questions that let me know that she understood. And yet, when I'd ask her if she wanted to pray, she'd say, "Not right now. Maybe after lunch."

We'd laugh and I'd wait. Then, 3 years ago today, again driving in the car (must be a holy place!), she announces from the backseat: "I had a dream, Mommy. It was about Jesus. He was in a white dress that had red on it. And he wore a sash like from a beauty contest."

I was floored as my mind raced to Revelation 19:13 and 16, speaking of Jesus: "He was clothed with a robe dipped in blood, ... And He has on His robe ... a name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS." Wow. Whoa. I was floored. I thought about Joel 2 and Acts 2 that mentions dreams of significance. I could not discount her just because she was only 4 years old!

So we talked about the cross again. I told her that I thought that it was Jesus in her dream. I told her about the cross and her need for salvation and asked her again if she wanted to pray. She said, "Yes! Right now!"

There was such an urgency that I (again) had to pull the car over! She lifted up the sweetest prayer of repentance, and in a very personal twist, she was thorough and asked Jesus and God and the Holy Spirit to forgive her and come and live in her heart forever. She still seems to have a great grasp on the Trinity! Again, as with Sierra, my heart raced for confirmation, but I was rebuked again and knew that it is not for me to hinder my children. And so that was the day of Serenity's salvation.

And we celebrate that glorious day today as I rejoice at the fruit in keeping with repentance that I see in my children.

In April, we will have opportunity for a similar joy as we mark the salvation of my twins, Summit and Venture. They were born together, and they were born again together. They also were 4 years old, and they also fully comprehended the cross and their need for a Savior.

They asked me that day how to get to Heaven where Jesus is. They understood their sin and declared with humility and sorrow over the bad things they had done that they wanted to say "Yes, Sir!" to Jesus. They got it, and again as my heart was frantic to know the validity of their conversion, I knew that God can and does draw young ones to Himself. Even easier, I think.

So each of my 4 older children have received Christ, and their spiritual birthdays are bigger to me than their physical birthdays. This is the day that I can breathe deeply and know that they are safe. Safe from things much bigger and more dangerous than anything this earth can threaten. I know it is still ours to disciple them, but the relief at knowing that they are sealed in Christ is unlike any other joy in my life.

And so today, as I celebrate, I also keep praying for my youngest, Ranger, who will be 4 in about a month. I would love for all of my children to have the incredible gift of being able to remember nothing but belonging to Jesus! And God knows my weirdness: I love symmetry and would love for them all to be 4!

Ranger is like Serenity was: very verbal and very curious. He and I had an interesting conversation just the other day:

Ranger: "Mommy, I like your cross necklace."
Me: "What does the cross mean, Buddy?"
"Jesus died on the cross."
"Why?"
"Because I need to do only good things."

He looked up and saw a few clouds and declared that Jesus was in one cloud and God was in another.

"Buddy, you can tell Jesus you are sorry for the bad things you do."
Looking at the "Jesus cloud," he screams, "I'm sorry, Jesus!"

I again questioned what that meant, and as I asked clarifying questions, he told me that Jesus is a tootsie. That's his filler word lately that means lots of things, from a term of affection to a candy or toy or anything else. Ok. We'll wait. But there is a lot of water on that seed, and I will continue to fertilize his heart.

So I invite you this day to celebrate the simplicity of the gospel. Jesus said that we need to come to Him as little children. Maybe they know things we don't. Maybe they aren't as defensive. Maybe they are less cerebral and don't analyze things to death. Maybe they just trust more. I'm not sure, but I know that I trust that the God of the universe called 4 of my children unto Himself and that my youngest is even now being wooed.

The cool thing is that it woos me, too. There is no greater way to win my affection than to love my children. And my God and my King loves my children enough to give them comprehension of Himself as very young ones, and He loves them enough to die for them. When my heart goes there, trying to wrap my mind around that truth, that is when the cross is the sweetest.

Jesus died for me. That ruins me. Jesus died for my Beloved husband and allowed me the privilege of being a witness to his birth and regeneration. That shatters me. And now, with my kids, He is allowing me the beauty of taking their little hands and putting them in His, knowing that their names are written in the Lamb's Book of Life. That slays me.

There is no greater hope than the truth that a child can understand the cross, redemption, sanctification, propitiation, salvation. Peel away the fancy words to the beautiful simplicity: we are dead in our sin, Jesus paid for all of it, and He invites us merely to receive the gift of His sacrifice. It makes my heart dance to realize how universally available salvation really is.

And it gives great hope to us because if a child can understand, perhaps we can as well.

Happy Birthday, Serenity Charlton, my sister, my daughter!