just be

At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to Him a child, He put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

“Whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me, but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.”

Matthew 18:1-6 ESV

One of my favorite things is watching Clara get lost in her own little world of play. She appears to forget all about me as she unstacks blocks, pulls apart puzzles, pretends to burp her baby dolly, or examines the intricacies of a stick of lip balm. She is sometimes silent, but more often chatting softly to herself and her toys. “Bah! Tickatickaticka. Oooh.” Sometimes one of the cats, watching a bird or a squirrel through the sliding door, catches her attention. “Tor!” she might exclaim, and make a beeline to enthusiastically pat him on the head, which he endures with a longsuffering grimace. When he inevitably loses patience and saunters away, she picks up her tiny Lowly Worm Word Book and practices pointing to each little picture, pretending to read the words.

Before Clara, the only real experience I could call upon to interpret a Bible passage like this one from Matthew 18 was my own dim memories of being a young child. That helped some, to be sure, but I obviously can’t remember anything from the purest childlikeness of being just a year old, all my needs lovingly met and not a care in the world except whether I could coordinate putting one block on top of another without toppling them both over.

Now I think I see: Jesus’s disciples wanted to know what kind of rankings exist in God’s kingdom—what kind of righteousness demands the highest reward—and Jesus pointed them to the ones who never would have thought to ask such a question.

Clara’s life is about 60% sleep, 30% play, and 10% food. She doesn’t have any goals or checklists when she gets up in the morning except to grow, to learn, and to let me meet her needs. She’s not concerned with being good at anything or earning her keep or leaving a mark on the world. She’s content to just be.

Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

We get a glimpse of this as God’s initial intention all the way back in Genesis, when He charged His image-bearers to “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28). They were to be cultivators and keepers, partners with Him in the joy of creating and caring for what was created; they were to increase the numbers as well as the borders of this garden paradise until it covered the whole of Creation.

Obviously, the story went awry, and that was never achieved. But the vision is still pertinent, for the King has come, and He is taking His Creation back! This is not the time for distractions of legalism or delusions of grandeur. It’s time to become children again.

It’s time to rest in the generous provision of the Lord. It’s time to do away with self-important pursuits of individual impact. It’s time to stop asking what more we can do to please God and simply trust Him, for in this, He is pleased.

I think He delights in watching us love our spouses, raise our children, care for our neighbors, and create beauty in the world much as I delight in watching Clara interact with her toys and learn how to be a person. I’m not annoyed with her for not helping me make dinner; her job is merely to receive dinner once it’s done, and to enjoy her little world in the meantime. Likewise, it’s not about what I accomplish in my lifetime to show for the years God gave me, but about what He is accomplishing over the course of millennia as He guides history to its stunning climax: to a New Creation, an everlasting reunion of God and His people who were rent apart by sin. My job is to rest in Him, to receive from Him, and to glorify Him, which in its most honest form is usually a rather un-glorious-looking matter—but nonetheless beautiful.

the kingdom of heaven

For most of my life I’ve had dreams that were far larger than my actual potential. Dreams of becoming a famous author, a renowned photographer, a household-name Bible teacher—for as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to be somebody.

The older I get, the smaller and closer to home my dreams become. I think this is due in equal parts to becoming more realistic, more complacent, and more self-aware. I used to be able to conjure up an imaginary version of myself who enjoyed the apparent glamour of doing a nationwide book tour for my New York Times bestseller, but now, exactly nothing sounds appealing about becoming a glorified traveling salesman whose product is me.

As I continually learn from God, watching Him so slowly and patiently do the work of a Farmer cultivating earth’s harvest, the dreams that once seemed so pressing lose their urgency, along with some of their shine. In their place, a fascination with the glorious mundane takes root—and the small spaces where the first rumblings of world-change always begin, person by person, moment by moment, surrender by surrender.

I asked Sam a few weeks ago, “Do you think it’s dumb if my dream job is just to go back to work at Spuds part-time?” It wasn’t so very long ago that the thought of being satisfied with such a small position in life would have been preposterous to me. But doing the manual work of sorting produce and stocking freight, peppered with cheerful interactions with customers, showed me a little of what I think God intended when He designed work as a good and necessary part of human existence. He made us to work, and to glorify Him in the very doing of it, so that it matters little what kind of work it actually is—big or small, grand or humble, meaningful or mundane. It can nourish the soul and magnify the Creator and bear witness of Him to others, regardless.

And the same can be said for the up-and-down, meaningful-as-well-as-mundane work that is child-rearing, though I feel plenty of words have already been spent on this topic, so I don’t know how much I need add. Only sometimes raising a baby feels like racing on a hamster wheel, where the days are made up of three-hour cycles of sleep-feed-play and the weeks stretch out long and changeless, even though the baby is changing invisibly every day. This, too, is the slow and patient work of the kingdom—the tiniest seed, but with the mightiest potential.

I suppose the hardest part of it all is wondering if I can still have a voice from such a small stage. Does anything I write or create really matter if it comes only from the boring “normal,” instead of the grand? I know there are plenty of “Instagram influencers” who have built their whole brand on sharing the boring normal, but it’s just that—a brand. It’s not real normal, blotted with tears of frustration and gapped by voids of loneliness which no filter can conceal. I don’t want to produce fodder for the ever-starving content machine of social media “mom culture.” That isn’t me at all. But I worry that there aren’t many other options for me now that I’ve had a baby. It’s hard enough to build credibility with a broad audience in the Bible teaching realm as a woman—let alone as a mom.

I remember wondering, before Clara was born, if she’d change me into someone completely different from the self I knew. She has, and she hasn’t.

She has certainly helped me along this journey toward the goodness of small-but-deep work. She’s given me an appreciation for how slowly and graciously God does His work, too. She reminds me that “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field” (Matthew 13:44). There is a treasure in this that is real and lasting and worth every sacrifice, even when to others it just looks like any old field.

But she hasn’t fundamentally altered the person God made me, the person who is a student and a teacher and longs to help others learn who He is through His Word. My days look different now, but the ultimate goal doesn’t, and I pray every day that God will allow Clara’s little soul to be the firstfruits of the calling.

Then some children were brought to Him so that He might lay His hands on them and pray; and the disciples rebuked them. But Jesus said, “Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” After laying His hands on them, He departed from there.

Matthew 19:13-15