Out of the Mouths of Babes

By Brenda Black

I loved it! I loved the lack of clutter, the clean white background, the beautiful faces of children of every color. I loved the simplicity and the purity of the message. I loved their expressions and personalities. I loved being stopped in my tracks as I was exiting a restaurant, surprised that finally there was commercial worth hearing, seeing and believing. Thank you, Focus on the Family, for broadcasting John 3:16.

By now, you've probably heard the buzz, seen the ad replayed over the internet hundreds of times. Still it doesn't get old. “Wow!” the little doll at the end proclaims. Out of the mouth of this babe comes the most profound of truths we cannot explain. Why God loves us enough to send His Son remains a mystery. Ancient citizens of planet earth despised and rejected the Creator of the Universe. Today they mock and hate Him still. Yet, He gave...and continues to save. Wow! What else is there to say?

It would do this world a world of good if we would stop and listen to the wisdom of innocence. For example, here are a couple of logical kid conclusions to a few over-used adult idioms.

“You get out of something what you..............see pictured on the box.”

“Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and............you have to blow your nose.”

Children are like wet cement, someone once said. Whatever falls on them makes an impression. However, some of our abstract adult concepts merely lay on the surface and never quite sink in. A kindergarten student reveals the assumptions we often make when communicating with children. On the first day of school, the teacher said, “If anyone has to go to the bathroom, hold up two fingers.” A little voice from the back of the room asked, “How will that help?” her request made no sense at all when you think like a kid.

When will we learn that the more complex we make it, the less influence we wield. Kids want the truth, not a bunch of philosophical hogwash tainted by political correctness or radical prejudice. They deserve the truth - free of clutter, clean, beautiful, in living color. We're the adults and we should be teaching a simple and pure message. Our children are worth it!

Children give us unconditional love and brazen honesty. They provide the most glorious sound in the world – a giggle. Kids are insightful and fearless. They are creative and brilliant if given a chance. They give us so much! What are we giving back?

"The test of the morality of a society is what it does for its children," says martyred theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer. His standard comes from none other than the Christ himself.

“[Jesus] called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: 'I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me.

“'But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to sin!'” (Matthew 18:2-7a)

If the test of morality is what society does for its children, then the test of the heart is if we'll listen. Jesus took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them. Once more, we are the benefactors of God's love through the blessings of children and God's great wisdom and truth delivered from the mouths of babes. Remember that on Sanctity of Human Life Sunday, Jan. 22.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” That's John 3:16 in case you missed the commercial. It's the truth we need to be living if you care about our children.

Without End

By Brenda Black

I remember well weary nights of rocking and nursing and praying my infant sons would “please just go to sleep.” There were bumps and bruises and scraped knees and one incident of some tiny burned fingers during the toddling years. I prayed courage for me and for their relief. Academic success, good friendships, purity of mind and heart and safety driving a car called for time on my knees while my sons grew up and I survived their teens. Now the stakes are higher and just when I think the job of parenting growing boys is reaching an end, I discover the far greater responsibility of praying for my adult children.

My mom is still on the clock for me and joins me as we pray for her grandsons. A dear friend shares my burden and I her's as we lift one another's adult children daily before the Lord. I still pray for safety and healthy relationships. I plead for direction and ask God to lead them straight to the center of His will. I understand like never before the power of prayer.

Still, it amazes me when I witness God's hand on their lives, both in blessings and challenges He lavishes and allows. And always I remember how critical the calloused knees of a mother at every stage in life. There is much to cover, much to anticipate, much to hope for and much to fear. The job of a praying parent is without end.

Hannah, the mother of Samuel, sets the standard for dedicated prayer. We hear her faithfulness in 1 Samuel 1:27-28a.

“I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.”

I, like Hannah, prayed for my children before they ever were conceived. I prayed for their healthy arrival. I was blessed with two bouncing boys three years and three months apart. In between, I was blessed to carry a small life but a matter of weeks. That child I'll one day meet. The gift of healthy babies and the heartache of a baby unborn can never be fully understood. One is a miracle, the other covered in mercy to endure and accept that God knows best. Each, given over to the Lord in life and death.

As a praying parent, I have to revisit the concept of “giving over” over and over again. To entrust these whom I have nursed, clothed, fed, loved, sheltered, tutored, laughed with and cried over for the greater part of my life on earth is no easy calling. But I can't carry them in a back pack or hover over them in a cradle as I once did. I have to watch from a distance and surrender them to the One whose hands are big enough to hold them no matter how big and burley they get. He is able to speak peace to their hearts when their mother needs to be silent. The Lord Almighty counsels them with far better advice than this wise woman who thinks she knows them best. And God loves them more than I could ever muster because, though I carried them in a womb, He knit them together and placed His fingerprint on their hearts and heads.

So I just pray. And pray. And pray without end. And I have the pleasure of watching the Lord at work in two men. I see how He leads them and provides for them; how He teaches and guides them. I watch how they recognize more quickly the peace and joy that is theirs for the asking. I weep when I hear them give God their thanks and praise because it means their dad and I have done something right in this world: We've pointed them and prayed them to the Lord.

Parenting is many things. Painful. Pleasurable. Surprising. Challenging. Exciting. Demanding. Rewarding. Parenting is supposed to be filled with love and sacrifice and promise. Most importantly, parenting is a test of faith and calls for active prayer.

Especially when the kids grow up, parents need to look up for the Heavenly Father's will, for no child should ever doubt that they are loved or lifted at any age.

From Killer to Lover

By Brenda Black

David Letterman has his Top 10. College basketball it's Big 12. And the Apostle Paul has his Trusted 37+. You'll find them listed in Romans 16.

“I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a servant of the church in Cenchrea...Greet Priscilla and Aquila, my fellow workers in Christ Jesus...Greet my dear friend Epenetus, who was the first convert to Christ in the province of Asia...

“Greet Mary, who worked very hard for you...Andronicus and Junias, my relatives who have been in prison with me...Ampliatus, whom I love in the Lord...Urbanus, our fellow worker in Christ, and my dear friend Stachys.

“Greet Apelles, tested and approved in Christ...the household of Aristobulus...Herodion, my relative...the household of Narcissus who are in the L
ord.

“Greet Tryphena and Tryphosa, those women who work hard in the Lord...my dear friend Persia...Rufus, chosen in the Lord, and his mother, who has been a mother to me, too...

“Greet Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hermes, Patrobas, Hermas and the brothers with them. Greet Philologus, Julia, Nereus and his sister, and Olympas and all the saints with them.

“Greet one another with a holy kiss.” (Romans 16:1-16a)

Whew! That's just a few of the faithful followers in the church at Rome. Another eight are listed in verses 21-24 who didn't make the trip with Phoebe, but sent their greetings. But why would Paul take the time to call them out individually and attribute compliments and character assessments? Because as much as Paul was a learned philosopher, he was also a loving friend.

This tender side is yet more evidence of the true transformation that opened his blinded eyes when He met the Messiah on the Damascus Road. Remember, before he was Paul, he was Saul who authorized the murder of Stephen when “...they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city and began to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses laid their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul.” (Acts. 7:57b-58) He watched an innocent young man, with the face of an angel, fall on his knees and cry out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” (Acts 60) And then Saul watched him die and he walked away.

The Paul in the book of Romans is not the same cold-hearted legalist of early Acts. He is now a believer, a brother, a teacher and a friend. God put the humanity into the man and made it possible for him to love again. So by the time a letter is written to Corinth, Paul spells out the kind of friend he aspires to be; the kind of servant he is to the King. He defines true discipleship in agape terms of endearment.

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.” (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)

Paul learned how to love because he was first loved by God. Though he amassed great knowledge and garnered tremendous respect, this love factor softened his heart and fit him for service that would last thousands of years past his life on earth. That's the kind of lasting impact from a love that is perfect, a love that is patient and kind and does not envy or boast; a love that is not proud or rude or self-seeking and is not easily angered and keeps no record of wrongs.

The love of God that Paul felt toward his companions was love that “protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” (1 Cor. 13:7)

That's the kind of love that changed a killer's destiny into a blessed legacy where the numbers have grown from 37 in a local church to millions worldwide who read the Pauline letters and discover for themselves that we have nothing if we have not been changed by the love of God.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (1 Cor. 13:13)

Cindy's Smile

By Brenda Black

I had already noticed the tall stranger from afar, but now she crossed right in front of me before taking a seat right next to me. She looked young and beautiful, fit and energetic. I would learn shortly that her name was Cindy, but not before I discovered many other things first. She paused from working on her laptop and excused herself by asking me to protect her purse and belongings. She said, “You look like someone I can trust, would you mind watching my things.” I took her assessment as a high compliment and vowed to not disappoint her.

When the lean and long-legged woman returned, this seemingly confident woman told me about her hectic morning. Frozen pipes had launched her into a shower-less start. That explained the pretty, pink ball cap and the bouncy pony tail out the back. She'd been at the airport since 8:00 a.m. on this frigid day, only to learn her morning flight was cancelled. And here she sat next to me, at 12:30 in the afternoon, outside gate 7, a place and a time she never anticipated.

As she divulged her frustrations, with more humor than aggravation, she revealed her greatest distress at the moment: that someone she knew might see her in this less-than-perfect condition. I could relate, but I couldn't believe her anxiety. She was beautiful and I told her how the cap and the hair do made her look youthful. She laughed at the comment and it helped alleviate some self-induced stress. But I wasn't just feeding her empty compliments to pacify her or allay her negative self-analysis. I meant it!

“Even if you looked as bad as you think,” I told her, “you would still be beautiful.”

Before I'd left the house that morning, I grabbed a book I've had for at least a half dozen years. It was one of the few on the bookshelf that I had not already read and was small enough to stick in my purse for emergency material to pass the time while on the plane or waiting. I pulled it out and managed to read one chapter just minutes before Cindy entered my world. I selected that section based on the simple bookmark I found that indicated I'd come this far at some point before now. And as the Lord would have it, the chapter fit perfectly this moment.

As Cindy proceeded to pull her hat down tighter and work at invisibility, I told her what I just read about the true value of a person. “We're not objects that have their worth in function,” I shared. “We're not valued because of performance or good looks. It's how the Lord sees us that matters.”

She flashed a beautiful smile and said, “Thanks, I needed to hear that!”

As we exchanged more info about one another – career, family and some faith - she took my business card and said she'd check my blog for more encouragement. And when we parted company, she said, “If we never meet again, have a nice...” Cindy paused before she finished, then added “Have a nice life.”

As long as the Lord uses me this way, I'm sure it will be. For little does Cindy know that I asked my Lord the night before to make me an instrument of blessing. Give me someone to encourage or minister to in my journey, I prayed. And I asked again that morning to be His hands and feet and to show His love to a stranger.

I hope Cindy does check out my blog. Because I want her to know when she reads this column that God saw her that morning and He loved her without clean hair and polished make-up. He loved her as is. And He loved her enough to bump her to a flight that would position her in such a way to hear Him tell her through the mouth of a stranger. How cool is that!

I prayed for her before I knew her. Now, I'm praying that when Cindy reads this story, it will make her smile that gorgeous grin.

copyright 2011