Just some early morning thoughts from me to you…

And He [Jesus] said: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Matthew 18: 3 (NIV)

The morning’s breeze has ushered in a few days of what may be the last of the cooler spring-like temperatures for the year. Much different than the oppressive heat of a few weeks ago, and that which the summer will bring, reminding me of that of a few years ago which provided the backdrop for this scene of ever-present and total trust.

Standing at the edge of the pool, our youngest Granddaughter, Ellie Kate, time after time, wide-eyed and smiling, would issue fair warning to me with the words “Granddaddy, here I come!” Then leaning head-long into a graceful belly-flop she would break the surface of the water not too far from my awaiting arms. Deep-end, shallow-end—it didn’t matter; because she knew I was there. She was coming!

Fearless and not fully aware of the consequences of her inability to swim and innate need for air—she jumped. Scary. Yet at this point in her young life she jumped secure in the knowledge that as long as she saw me nearby she knew she was safe, fully trusting me to scoop her up out of the water.

A simple approach to life. Free from the tentacles of pride and unconcerned with social status or the opinions of the world, children the world over like Ellie Kate and her sister Hannah, quickly learn to depend solely upon those they can trust—their parents and grandparents—as places of refuge and safety.

It’s the picture Christ painted in the scripture above of complete dependence upon God that is necessary to enter His Kingdom, to be great in His Kingdom, to be free of the world’s allure, to be His servants for all the world. A dependence marked with a simple—not simple-minded—approach to life. A dependence which requires us to use the knowledge, gifts and abilities—the wisdom—He has created within us to make decisions that would honor Him—not us. And then announce “God, here I come!”—knowing He will be there to catch you.

Easy for you to say, you’re thinking. Not really.

Today Hannah and Ellie Kate know Christ as their Savior and trust the God who created them as they trusted their parents and grandparents; and in that trust, they have not, and will not have been let down. In that trust they realize that they are precious—not just with spoken words—but with the sacrificial deeds of those they trust.

But that’s not always the case for all of us. Those who should have loved, protected, defended, encouraged, made us always feel special, and built us up rather than tear us down—too often didn’t and clouded our view of the God Who stands ready to secure us in His heavenly arms. We tend to think of God as a lot like them. Not true.

Someone, at some time in your life, has been that example, that place of trust and security for you—something you didn’t have before. It may have been a parent. It may be a grandparent. Good. But it may be someone else.

Someone, who by their example gave you a glimpse of the loving nature of the God you can trust to always provide, and who wants the very best for you.

Start there in catching a view of this unbelievable God who waits for you. This God who will catch you when you jump fearlessly into the unknown depths of the pools we will find before us. Start there in developing that eternal relationship with the God you can always trust to catch you when you fall or when you jump, and in trusting the God who is always by your side to walk with you every day for the rest of your days.

And then, when you’re ready, boldly yelling out to Him—“God, here I come!”

He’ll be there to catch you and hold you—in the deep ends of your life, the rocky shallows, the turbulent storms, and the dark nights which at times will haunt your soul.

He’ll be there. Set all the doubt and uncertainty aside and trust Him.

The simple approach to life—like that of a child—for all eternity.

Granddaddy, here I come!”

In His Name—Scott

Copyright 2015. Scott L. Whitaker. All rights reserved.