Let the Children Come to Me

It’s Wednesday afternoon. That means it’s time to load up our three children and the little boy I babysit into their carseats and head off to church for an hour.

Every Wednesday afternoon from 2 to 3, you will find me and four children in the prayer room at our church. Why? Because we are taking what is called a “prayer watch.” We spend one hour playing worship music and spending time in the presence of God.

Sometimes we dance or spin in circles with the ribbon flags. Sometimes, the children “play” the keyboard and sing along with the songs. Sometimes, the girls draw pictures while I supervise the two one year old boys’ explorations of all the sound equipment. Every once in a while, I get to do about 2 minutes of sitting in quiet conversation with God. Most of the time, tho, I am worshipping Him as I chase down one toddler and settle a dispute over the crayons with another one.

Why do I do this? Why do I prioritize taking four children ages 4, 2, 1, and 1 to church to worship for one hour? Because it is important to me to cultivate a heart of worship in each of our children. I want them to have conversations with God as easily as they have them with me. I want to build their faith that their prayers make a difference. I want to set an example of prioritizing time in God’s presence, no matter what else is going on in our lives. I want them to see that no matter how seemingly inconvenient it might be to do this every Wednesday afternoon, it is still important enough to me that we do it. I want prayer and worship, singing and dancing, and listening to hear what God is saying to be a normal part of our children’s lives.

The other week, we found our 4 year old’s little purse that she has been missing for months! Her immediate response was to say, “Thank you. God! I love you!” and then she drew a picture for Him to show her gratitude.

Once the song “Make Room” by Casting Crowns was playing. One of the lines in the song says, “Is there room in your heart for God to write His story?” Our daughter turned to me and said, “Mom, I can see God writing His story.” She went on to list ways she sees God writing His story in her life.

I imagine that God smiles when He sees the children’s pure worship. It doesn’t bother His ears when the notes they play aren’t perfectly in tune with the song. He delights in the colors that they choose for their pictures. I can almost hear Him chuckle when He sees their portraits of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. He isn’t bothered that their worship sometimes looks like running in circles and giggling as they chase each other around the room. Their freedom in His presence is a delight. Their confident faith and sweet sensitivity to His voice is amazing.

Our children have so much delight in taking part in prayer watch that they ask if it’s time to go yet whenever they know it’s Wednesday.

It’s only one hour a week. Sometimes, it can seem like maybe I did nothing except try to calm the waves that are toddlerhood, and I wonder if God really cares about this one mother and the four tiny humans she brings. I sometimes feel guilty that my prayer watch is not as deeply reverent as some of the others that also hold prayer watches. I don’t get grand revelations or big breakthroughs, but still I go. And I do enjoy it.

No matter what chaos we bring into the room. No matter how frustrated I was trying to get everyone fed, changed, dressed, out the door, and loaded up to leave on time. No matter what. I walk into that room, crank the worship up, and I feel peace. I know that in His presence, there is rest. And it restores and energizes me. And by the time we leave, everyone is in a good mood and relaxed. That’s what the presence of God brings.

Prayer of the Children

“Can you hear the prayer of the children?
On bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry
Turning heavenward toward the light

Crying, Jesus, help me
To see the morning light of one more day
But if I should die before I wake,
I pray my soul to take

Can you feel the hearts of the children?
Aching for home, for something of their very own
Reaching hands, with nothing to hold on to,
But hope for a better day, a better day

Crying, Jesus, help me
To feel the love again in my own land
But if unknown roads lead away from home,
Give me loving arms, away from harm

Can you hear the voice of the children?
Softly pleading for silence in a shattered world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,
Blood of the innocent on their hands

Crying, Jesus, help me
To feel the sun again upon my face,
For when darkness clears, I know you’re near,
Bringing peace again.” -Kurt Bestor

[Listen to a version of this song here.]

With all the news of wars, my heart has been heavy, and I find myself thinking of all the children who are growing up in volatile circumstances. The children born in bomb shelters. The children whose nightly lullabies are explosions. The children who are not getting the chance to be carefree and innocent. The children who are growing up learning hate and experiencing trauma.

I pray that someday they will find true and lasting peace.