Ever notice how the world loves a good resume? Fancy degrees, big titles, a VIP pass—those get you places! So, it’s easy to think God’s Kingdom has a bouncer at the door, checking our spiritual report card. But Jesus? He grabs a toddler, plops them front and center, and says, “Nope, the Kingdom belongs to these little rascals” (Luke 18:16). Not the Bible scholars or the super-saints—just kids with sticky hands and big trust. “Be like them,” He says, “or you’re not getting in” (Luke 18:17). It’s not about being silly; it’s about faith that skips the serious stuff and runs straight to God.
Picture
this: parents hauling their wiggly kids to Jesus, hoping for a blessing (Luke
18:15). The disciples? They turn into grumpy hall monitors—“No kids allowed!”
They thought they were keeping things orderly for Jesus’ “big work.” Meanwhile,
the parents just saw a chance for their little ones to meet Someone special. We
can be like that too—acting like gatekeepers, deciding who’s “good enough” for
God. But Jesus says, “I’m the gate” (John 10:9). Our job? Toss the rulebook and
point everyone to the party He’s throwing!
Jesus
doesn’t just wave the kids through—He calls them over like a proud uncle:
“Bring ‘em here, don’t stop ‘em—the Kingdom’s theirs!” (Luke 18:16). Back then,
kids weren’t VIPs—they were background noise. Yet Jesus makes them the stars,
showing us God’s Kingdom isn’t a stuffy club for the “deserving.” It’s a
wide-open playground for anyone ready to tumble in. No tryouts, no dress
code—just come as you are and join the fun.
Jesus
doubles down: “Receive the Kingdom like a kid, or you’re stuck outside” (Luke
18:17). Kids don’t overthink it—they trust without a checklist. Spilled juice?
“Mom’ll fix it.” Big promise? “Dad said so!” That’s the vibe: no pretending, no
earning—just running to God with a grin, knowing He’s got us. It’s not about
acting goofy; it’s about dropping the grown-up baggage and letting Him carry
the load.
Here’s the
hiccup: we adults love being “in charge.” Self-made! Independent! Sounds great
until Jesus says, “Uh, try again.” Pride sneaks in—“I’m too smart for kid stuff!”—and
we turn faith into a maze of rules and worries. Prayer becomes a script,
worship a performance. Letting go feels like jumping off a diving board
blindfolded. But staying “in control”? That’s just us hugging the pool ladder,
missing the splash of God’s joy.
Ready to
lighten up? Spot where you’re playing boss—worrying too much, trying to impress
God—and giggle at it. Try this: pray like you’re chatting with a friend, thank
Him for little gifts (like coffee!), and rest knowing He’s got the wheel. Take
a baby step—trust Him with one tiny worry today. He’s caught you before; He’ll
do it again. Whisper this: “Father, I’m Your kid—help me jump in and enjoy You
today!”
