I woke up this morning with a cold and my niece laughed in my face. "You should have asked God to keep you from getting a cold." I smiled at her indulgently.
She continued, "My mommy and I pray to God to not let us get colds. That's why we don't have them and you do." Baby ran out of the room, exultantly laughing at my congested state. I glanced at her mother, not quite sure even how to put my thoughts together.
My sister smiled at me, "She makes it sound so simple, doesn't she?"
I nodded, chuckling. My niece does make it sound so simple. One night this week, over dinner, my niece had announced to me that God needed me to be a Savior. I shook my head. "That's what Jesus Christ is." Baby was not convinced. "But God does need you to save people." And then leaned over to me conspiratorially, "God knows your number." I looked at her with some confusion,debating a quip about how God is omniscient, of course he knows my number. She threw an arm around me and whispered into my ear. "I told God your number and so now he knows it." I stuttered in surprise, as she calmly went back to eating.
Let's be clear on one thing; my niece doesn't spend all of our conversations talking about God. In fact, out of all of the time we've spent together, the number of times she's mentioned God or Jesus Christ, I can count on one hand. But when she does, she expresses a bold, straight-forward confidence in God. This resurrect-er of beings, this granter of good health, this friend in confidence - He's someone I find myself marveling at, and wanting to believe in.
The faith of a child.
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