Yesterday, my daughter was fasting and praying to gain clarity about a big decision when she received an email that provided her exactly that. When she told me what happened, I was overwhelmed with tears, joy and gratitude. A little later though, I was also a little
To be clear, the answer to Faithe’s question didn’t happen just because she fasted and prayed yesterday. The question was one we’ve been praying about for four years, but I was jealous because I’ve never experienced clarity like that when I’ve prayed and fasted.
As I thought about that more, I realized something. As Faithe and I have been reading the Bible together it’s sparked some great conversations that look very different. Faithe, for example, loved that the building of the Tabernacle shows that God is a god of detail. Being a future engineer, she appreciates all the measurements and minutia (that make me yawn). She also loved learning more about Joseph’s leadership, God’s sovereignty in the exodus, and the creativity in all He designs.
I, conversely, questioned why God hardened Pharaoh’s heart, how desecrating the Sabbath warranted death, and why Hagar was happy her son would be a, “wild donkey of a man.” Although my understanding and appreciation of the Old Testament has grown over the years, my default isn’t awe. It’s apprehension. It isn’t humility, but haughtiness.
It’s not faith. It’s desiring facts.
What’s all this teaching me? I need to intentionally engage with young people. As I’ve aged, so have my social circles. As I’ve aged, I’ve become more closed, hardened, and serious. I’ve also become more skeptical and negative. As I’ve aged, I’ve failed to experience the beauty, joy, and awe that comes with having a childlike faith (or, a child, like Faithe :)), and in doing so, I’ve missed a deeper, richer, and perhaps less arduous life and journey with Christ.