The last few Sundays in Children's Church we have been imagining what it may have been like to be Paul: Trapped in prison. Unable to go see friends and family. Waiting to hear what the big guys decided to do with him. Possibly chained to a guard who dictated when he could move. Talk about unfair. Paul was just trying to share the Gospel, to lead people to the one who died to save their souls. Yet, there he was, and just like when Paul was unjustly flogged and put in stocks in the innermost cell with his pal Silas, Paul doesn't pull out the sad face emoji. Instead, he rejoices. Now, I'm not saying Paul denied the fact that he was suffering and stuffed his real feelings deep inside. No, this was not a fake face. This was something genuine, something deep pouring out of the very recesses of his soul. This was a deep happy, no matter the the outward circumstances. The palace guards had to be wondering, "What's gotten into this guy?"
Last week, I walked into the Children's Church room to pick up our mess from Sunday. We'd pulled out scissors, glue, paper, stickers and various other crafty things to make a "prison" to remind us of the context of Philippians. I wanted to see our completed work, the kids' imaginations all put together in one mural on the wall, but when I saw the wall, my heart sank. Over half their artwork lay on the floor. I had expected the need for a little patchwork, but to have to re-piece almost the entire thing?
Then I remembered our catchphrase from the previous day: "Bad things will not get us down, when we know that God's around." Something inside me smiled because our artwork had tried to defy the point of the lesson by literally falling down. As I pieced the mural back together, I thought about how important this lesson is for our kids. I remembered what I'd recently read in a book about how kids respond to the injustices of life. Some kids hear about starving children and walk away from their faith because they wonder why God doesn't do something. Other kids hear about it and become determined to raise money for the helpless. What's the difference? The truth is, any time any of us face an injustice in life or go through a personal crisis, we have to choose how we respond. Do we blame God or praise God? Do we doubt his love, or do we hold on to it with everything that is left in us? And how can the church teach children the latter? Because the truth is, sooner or later, suffering will come knocking on their door.
As a director of children's and family, I have 52 Sundays with your children a year and maybe a few extra days from special events, Wednesday nights, etc., but here's the deal. They can come every single time the door is open and hear me teach about God's love, but until they see someone actually live like they believe it, they won't believe it either. They need a tangible, daily example of faith right in front of them.
Parents, your children need you. They need to see you drag your feet to church even when your tired muscles scream otherwise. They need to see you sing those worship songs even when your heart's not in it. They need to see you cry. Yes, they need to see you weeping when you lose your loved one or get let go from that job. They need to see how you still get down on your knees to pray and open that Bible even when the world around you is shouting, “God's not with you!” Because when you do, you show faith. You show trust, something that is deeper within you than the deepest feelings you've ever felt. You know God is Sovereign, and somehow in some way he's going to take all that pain you are feeling and use it for the advancement of the kingdom. The gospel will spread, even when you feel hopelessly chained, and the people who may be believing the gospel for the first time may be your children.
A couple years ago my family went through a crisis I didn't think possible. At least, I didn't want to believe it. I watched helplessly as one of my brothers walked away from my family and away from his faith, leaving pain and heartache in his wake. I cried as I watched my parents blame themselves for so many things, and I watched as they cried and sorted through the broken pieces of our hearts. But do you want to know something? Even in the midst of all our questions, all our doubts, all our pain, I never saw them let go of God. Rather, I saw them running into his arms, embracing him, and becoming closer to him than before. They literally lived on the Word of God. Even despite the pain and injustice of it all they still believed God was good, that he loved us, and that he had a plan to make something out of the splintered mess. Although I cannot fully see what God has planned (and I pray it ends with my brother returning to him), I can confidently say that because I watched my parents grapple through this and still come out with joy, I know that whatever life throws at me, I am not letting go of God either. He is my joy. He is my strength. And the gospel? That's my goal, and I pray that I’ll keep sharing it 'til the day I die, even if it be the reason I lose my life.
I just want to challenge you this week, to be an example of faith for your children. No, you're not the apostle Paul, and you certainly aren't Jesus either. But you are you. God made you and put you where you are for a reason... as the parents of YOUR children. Leverage where he has put you now to share the gospel with faith, especially to your children. Ultimately, it is your child’s choice. You cannot choose Jesus for your child. They can still walk away, like you heard from my own family. However, here, in this moment, your children are looking up to you. By God's strength, will you be unshakable?
