I have a friend. His name is Hosea.
Hosea has been my friend for years now, but last week we became best friends. Want to know how?
I let him hold a piece of string.
No kidding. That was it.
You see, last week during the holiday program I had some free time from leading and planning, so I decided to start putting up some of the kids’ crafts in the children’s home so they could admire their own handiwork. It would have been a simple task on my own, but I am trying to get more intentional about discipleship and inviting others into the everyday teachable moments, so I passed by the school to find a helper. Seven-year-old Hosea was the first one to catch my eye.
“Do you want to help me with something at my house?” I asked. He nodded his head enthusiastically (as they always do), took my hand, and we set off.
The decoration process was very simple. We measured a string so it would fit between two pillars in the children’s home, then took it to my house and got out paper aliens to string. (We had a space theme this holiday so I have literally hundreds of aliens hanging out in my spare room right now. It’s awesome.) I would put the string through one alien, then hand the end of the string to Hosea. He would keep it taught until I had slid the alien to the other end, and then he let go at just the right moment so I could tie a knot. Once the knot was tied, he scrambled to find the end again and we repeated the process.
We did this for an hour, no joke. And actually, it was more helpful to have him there than to do it by myself.
When we finally strung all the aliens that would fit, he ran to get Christian from the office and the three of us carried the artwork to the home and hung it up. We repeated the whole process once more, and that was the end of it.
The next day when I went down to school, I saw out of the corner of my eye a rapid movement. Turning just in time, I found Hosea sprinting toward me and then he smacked into my legs, wrapping his short arms around my waist and giving me the biggest hug he could muster. These kids know how to melt your heart, I tell you. He stayed by my side as long as I let him.
Now, every day when he sees me, he drops whatever he is doing and runs straight for me, arms outstretched, smile wide. Even today at school, as soon as I appeared at the end of lunch break, he came running across the field. It was nearing time for class so in an effort to get him and a classmate to go to their classroom, I told them to race each other. He sped off again, about fifty yards to the door of his classroom. He won. I clapped from a distance, but when he realized they had still not rung the bell for class, he made the run again and came back to my arms until it really was time to go.
For the past week, if I don’t find Hosea at school or at the children’s home, he will find me at my house first. He walks across the verandah as if he is just passing by, but as soon as he catches my eye he giggles and is immediately sitting in the open doorway, content just to be there, or to read books if I take too long to get ready.
Sometimes Hosea shows his faith in me (or demonstrates his lack of forethought) when he jumps into my arms unexpectedly. No warning, no hesitation, just a run and a jump. What trust.
That. All of that is how I want to be with God.
As soon as I get a glimpse of Him, even in the distance, I want to run full speed into His arms. I want to race toward Him, arms outstretched and smile wide. I want to jump into His embrace, not hesitating to see if He is really paying attention or asking if He will catch me this time, but with an unwavering and uncomplicated trust that He will catch me. Again. And again and again and again.
For an answer Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room, and said, “I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom. What’s more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it’s the same as receiving me.” (Matthew 18:2-5, The Message)
