Casandra Martin

Children challenge me. They coax me and prod my soul to see God in ways and places where I tend to miss Him. Their simplicity often highlights the moments in which I make faith too complicated.

He is an active, energetic, perfect one-year-old. Just learning to walk, he is mastering “the escape.” He is speaking his first words, each one a precious gift as he learns to interact with the world around him. Sitting in his mom’s lap, he is learning the powerful first elements of faith – coming to church, the wonder of Bible class, the power of community, and how to meet Jesus. (Never doubt that little ones can learn these lessons each time you bring them to worship.)

It was during communion that his little voice spoke a big truth. Looking around from the safety of his mom’s shoulder, he spotted his dad serving in the back of the room. “Da-da!” he cried out. He squirmed to get closer, making no pretense about wanting to be in father’s arms.

I smiled as his voice carried loudly through the quiet room. And then I felt the Spirit’s nudge. Was I on the lookout for my Abba’s presence? Do I pull at the restraints of this world that hold me back from running into His arms or sit comfortably in my own space? Am I willing to tell others where I see Him and how much I want to be in His presence? Does childlikeness characterize my faith or am I too grown up to need an Abba?

My Jesus Resolution today is to center my eyes and heart on my Abba. Abba is an intimate Aramaic word that Jewish children use to address their fathers. Jesus addressed God as Abba Father. Galatians 4:6 tells us that “because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’” I want to be like this little one. I want my eyes open for my Abba’s presence. I want to cry out in delight when I see Him. I want to be overwhelmed with longing to be in His arms. I want worship to be a time when I stand in wonder that my Abba joins me and calls me His own.