Have you ever noticed how unabashedly children display their sin? Kids under 5 are particularly honest in their sin. They haven’t quite learned the “appropriate” ways of dealing with their emotions and cravings, so their sin can often be rather obvious. For example,
When they want something, they grab it.
When they don’t like the answer Mommy gives, they throw a tantrum.
When they covet something a friend has, they steal it or have a meltdown because whatever toy they have isn’t enough.
When they believe something is theirs, they make it known to the world by shouting “mine!” and keeping it away from little brothers or friends.
When they love themselves more than others, they hit or push or say something mean.
Let’s be clear-I’m not being negative toward children. I love children. I have two and plan to have at least a couple more. I think their honesty is one of the most precious things about them. As honest as they are in their sin nature, they are equally honest in expressing their love and their thoughts. And if the most important part of my job as a mom (aside from keeping them alive and well!) is to point my children to their need for Jesus, then their honesty makes it all the easier. I don’t have to dig very far to help them see their sin. My daughter hands me plenty of opportunities throughout the day to gently talk to her about that yucky heart that keeps manifesting itself, and the hope of a new heart full of love she can have through Jesus.
The candidness of their sin serves another purpose, however, aside from providing opportunities to point them to their need for Jesus.
It points me to my need for Jesus.
Children will do and say things that we adults (at least most of us) would never do or say. But the same thoughts and motivations that lead children to do and say them exist in our hearts when we are not walking in the Spirit.
We may not grab what we want, but we discontentedly chase after it, grumbling about our lack of it.
We may not throw visible tantrums complete with tears, kicking, and screaming, but we throw inner tantrums, ranting and venting, entertaining self-centered and frustrated thoughts when we don’t get our way.
We may not steal what we covet, but we enviously gaze upon it and wish the demise of those who do have it, because if we don’t get to have it, they shouldn’t either.
We may not run around shouting “mine, mine!” with everything we own, but we are reluctant to share, hoarding what we have for ourselves, feeling indignant when God or others ask us to share it.
We may not hit or push or say something mean (out loud), but we think mean thoughts and use manipulation to get our needs met instead of loving selflessly.
Every time I discipline my daughter for some display of sin, I am reminded of my own sin. As soon as I start to get frustrated or self-righteous, God flashes before me a picture of my own sin.
Remember that tantrum you threw yesterday? When you got home from the grocery store and ranted and vented about how the world didn’t stop for you? When you seethed in anger toward all the people who were obstacles to your perfectly peaceful grocery trip? When you coveted the beautifully put together outfit of the fellow shopper, inwardly judging and critiquing her simply because you were jealous?
Ouch. I am forced to see the ridiculousness of my sin. As I look at my daughter’s tantrum and think, “how ridiculous. This is so unproductive. It accomplishes nothing. She knows it won’t bring her what she wants,” I am simultaneously reminded of how ridiculous my sin is. How unproductive it is. How it accomplishes nothing godly or positive. How it fails to bring me the satisfaction I desire every time.
The truth is, I am a covetous, tantrum-throwing, judgmental, “mine” exclaiming, friend-pushing sinner. I’ve just found more “acceptable” ways to express those things. Where my daughter’s sin is so obvious, mine can be so subtle.
But the same heart condition is there. The same motivations drive my flesh. Just as my daughter needs to be told of the hope she can have if she believes in Jesus, so I need to be reminded of the hope I have already been given in Christ. Just as she needs to hear that Jesus can take her yucky heart away and give her a heart like His, I need to be reminded that He has already taken my yucky heart away and given me a heart that is daily becoming more like His-even when it doesn’t seem like it. Just as she needs to be made aware that she can never be righteous and selfless and loving on her own, so I need to be reminded that I can’t grow in godliness on my own, but have the Holy Spirit inside me, on whom I must lean constantly.
The more I see the depth of my propensity to sin, the more precious His great love and mercy are to me. As I am transformed each day into His likeness, He uses my children to remind me what I am apart from Him, and how much I need His help every moment.
The honesty of children and the candidness of their sin is a measure of God’s grace for us as adults. When we are around them, we can be reminded by their need for Jesus of our very own. We can be filled with gratitude for the love He has shown us and the new heart He gives.
How has God used children–yours or others–to point you to the gospel?
Life as a Hamm 