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Out of the Mouths of Babes

Posted by Children's Ministry on

As I prayerfully seek God’s wisdom for words to share with you, I must admit to being distracted by a long anticipated trip to Chattanooga, Tennessee. The lure for this California native certainly isn’t the prospect of Tennessee in the winter (nighttime temperatures forecast - 28 degrees!), but rather the gathering that will take place. You see, I am traveling with the entire St. John’s Children’s and Youth Ministry team to the National Children’s Pastor’s conference to learn, collaborate, celebrate, encourage and be encouraged by some of the most inspiring of God’s servants from across the nation.

Vicar Trevor and I have been honored with the opportunity to present a breakout session on building unity between Children’s and Youth Ministries. Apparently, the cooperation, collaboration and shared vision we enjoy is rare, even among pastors and ministry leaders. So while I am excited and honored to speak at this event, I am also filled with a healthy dose of trepidation. Pondering the butterflies in my stomach, I realize it’s not a case of worrying about making a fool of myself (have you seen me VBS week? complete foolishness) but rather the urgency I feel for the children and families across the nation.

You’ve heard the saying, “out of the mouths of babes,” right? Well, I know that God speaks out of the mouths and through the actions of our children for His Kingdom. Echoes from my own children’s heartfelt, pure declarations remind me of this truth time and time again. One such memory keeps wrapping itself around me during my prayer time like a hug, begging to be passed along.

Many of you know my “baby,” Logan (no, it doesn’t matter that he’s taller than me and shaves, he’s the youngest of my three sons so he is my baby!). If you’ve seen him lead worship or teach, it’s probably not hard for you to imagine the outgoing, outspoken, gregarious preschooler he once was. “Extreme” as in “if the X-games had a toddler addition” is how my mom laughingly described him. You get the picture.

Anyway, one Thanksgiving we celebrated at my father-in-law’s home with his (3rd) wife and her family, my mother-in-law and her husband and all of my husband’s siblings along with their families. I use the term “celebrate” loosely here, as the white carpet, white fabrics and tumbled stone furniture did not lend a celebratory tone to this mother of three young boys. However, before dinner my sister-in-law suggested something lovely and unexpected considering the company. We were to go around the table and say what we were thankful for.

Darling Logan was usually sandwiched between daddy and me because it sometime took four hands to help him with table manners, but somehow he ended up between my husband and one of his cousins while I had the ease of his two older brothers on either side of me. I don’t remember what a single person in attendance that day was thankful for because dear Logan brought the house down.

I heard him attempt to whisper (you know how kids don’t truly whisper until they’re preteens, right?) to my husband that he was thankful for Jesus. In horror, my husband tried to grown-up whisper to him other suggestions – dirt to play in, our pets, superheroes, or crystal balls – anything else! Oh, I forgot to mention that my husband’s family is Jewish, and while they are open to and some even practice new-age mysticism or atheism, Jesus is a four letter word, literally, to them.

Not that my faith was any surprise to them, but it was sort-of a don’t ask, don’t tell standoff with me accepting my husband’s wish not to advertise very loudly. My husband believed he had distracted Logan with a new idea of what to be thankful for, otherwise he probably would have excused the two of them to the bathroom for a while. And so the thanksgiving praises were given round the tables ‘til Logan’s turn was upon us.

With an angelic glow and a preacher’s love for his flock, he boldly enunciated, “I am thankful that Jesus died on the cross for… umph!” Enter husband’s hand over his mouth and fish-faced groping for words emanating from said husband’s lips. And during the shocked silence, my mind flashed to the scene Jesus and His disciples faced during His triumphant entry into Jerusalem as crowds waved palm branches and shouted,

“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” – Luke 19:38.

And some of the Pharisees in the crowd told Jesus to rebuke His disciples, probably with looks similar to the ones we were getting, not that I’m calling my in-laws Pharisees or anything. So in this tense silence that seemed like hours but was really seconds, I looked past several in-laws to my tiny evangelist with a smile and something akin to awe for breaking the rules of “don’t ask don’t tell” to share the Gospel with people who desperately needed the Gospel. Tiny evangelist shook free and again proclaimed, “Jesus died on the cross for ME! I am thankful.” Jesus told the Pharisees in Luke 19:40, “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”

And that, my brothers and sisters, is why I have urgency. I want to do everything I can to help children shout their hosannas as loud and to as many people as they can. I want to help families unite around the Gospel and not allow “don’t ask don’t tell” relationships to stifle their zeal for our Lord. I want to help tiny evangelists to grow into teen and adult evangelists who see the mission fields of their families, communities and world through the eyes of Jesus. And for that, I need the collaboration and partnership I enjoy with Youth Ministry to discern the will of God and nurture our children, teens, young adults and families according to His purposes. I pray for an open heart and willing hands as I speak at the conference and as I serve the children and families here at St. John’s.

I’ll see you back in church January 24th unless I am stuck frozen to the streets of Tennessee!

Lara Kaufman
Director of Children's Ministries

 

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