Jesus Loves the Little Children (And Dogs)

My family has two dogs: Princess and Hershey. We used to have three, but our oldest one, Jasmine, passed away a couple of years ago. The funny thing is, Jasmine is the only dog we actually bought.

A few years after we got Jasmine, we started to notice that another dog kept showing up in our backyard. Every time, we would lead her back out of the fence, and every time, she would find her way back in. Eventually, we decided to just let her stay. She didn't have a collar, and she seemed a little malnourished, so we assumed that she may have been mistreated. She was ecstatic when she realized we were letting her stay, and that happiness showed every time we went outside. She would jump all over us and try to lick our faces.

What we hadn't considered was that Princess, as she had now been named, was pregnant. She was so skinny that we never noticed. One day we came home and there were three puppies lying with her under the dog house. The next morning, two more showed up. One of them was so cute that we had to keep her. And that's how we got Hershey.

To this day, Princess never fails to show her appreciation and trust in us. She barely sees us through a window and she perks up, ready to run to the door the second we move toward it. She always wants to be as close to us as possible whenever she can.

That's the thing about dogs. For most of them, you show them one act of kindness and suddenly they love you with everything they have. Their lives revolve around you, and they want to show you how much they appreciate you at every opportunity.

Children are like that, too. Not exactly in the same way, but they also have this trust in people that can come from only a few encounters, sometimes even less. They're nonjudgmental, seeing all people the same (which is why we have to teach them the "stranger danger" rule occasionally). But sometimes, they surprise us.

My boss' daughter once overheard her mom talking to someone who was helping remodel our library. She heard him talking about how he was struggling to find another job after he got done with this one. That night, it was her turn to pray at the dinner table, and she prayed for him. The next day, my boss told the man what her daughter had prayed for. He seemed a little skeptical but appreciated the gesture. However, he found her the next day and told her about how he had gotten a call about a new job opportunity that would be really good for him. He looked at my boss and said, "Tell your daughter: prayers work."

It sometimes baffles me how just one small act from a child can change someone's life. It's incredible. It also makes me wonder: if a little girl is willing to pray for a complete stranger, why can't I bring myself to pray for even the people closest to me?

We all know that stereotypical phrase that's been drilled into us born-and-raised Christians since we can remember: "I'll be praying for you." But often times I find myself using that as a habitual response. Just a "yeah, I hear what you have to say, and I'm sorry you're going through that", not an actual genuine promise.

Lately I've been thinking about the innocence of children. And dogs, I guess, even though that sounds kind of weird. They both are willing to put trust in someone based on how much love is shown to them, even if it's just giving them a toy or providing them with food and shelter.

If they can trust in someone with so little, why is it so hard for me to put my trust in a God who sent His own son to die for me? I mean, that's no small act, that's the act to beat all other acts. And yet, as I've grown older, it almost seems to get harder.

My dad mentioned that when he was a kid, he used to think that the reason we're taught to close our eyes during prayers is because Jesus would literally come into the room, and we weren't supposed to see him. He even remembers peeking through his fingers occasionally to see if he could spot Jesus.

Me? I find it hard to close my eyes and sit still for more than a minute. I eventually have to open my eyes once in a while, sway back and forth if I'm standing up, my fingers even start to twitch sometimes. And it's not because I think there's some heavenly force in the room. It's because I'm impatient. Half the time I'm pretty sure I'm not even paying attention to the prayer. I'm losing the true meaning behind the act of closing our eyes, folding our hands, and sitting still.

Jesus once scolded his disciples for not letting the little children approach him, saying "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." In my Bible, this is what the little devotional thought said about this particular passage:

"Adults are not as trusting as little children. To feel secure, all children need is a loving look and gentle touch from someone who cares. Complete intellectual understanding is not one of their requirements. They believe us if they trust us. Jesus said that people should believe in him with this kind of childlike faith. We should not have to understand all the mysteries of the universe; it should be enough to know that God loves us and provides forgiveness for our sins."

If Princess can still show so much devotion for the people who had pity on her and gave her some food and a home, why can't I show my devotion for a God who has given me that and so much more? If my boss' daughter can show kindness to a man she had only met once, why do I sometimes neglect to do that myself?

I feel like I can't stress this enough in my posts: God loves us. He has provided for us since we weren't even on this earth yet. He has given us more than any of us could have ever asked for. So why do I still find it hard to trust Him? I'm pretty sure if Princess can basically devote her life to a few humans who showed her kindness, I can do the same.

Children make it look so easy. Adults tend to overthink things. A lot. But maybe if we approach things in a childlike fashion, our relationship with God can be so much stronger. After all, Jesus loves the little children.

And dogs, too.

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"Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."

God Really Does Have a Plan For You

Isn't it funny how we always say "God has a plan for you", but we don't always believe it ourselves? Maybe it's just me. I know for a while that saying this phrase was more of an automatic response than anything else; just something to say when there was nothing else I could think of.

It's even funnier when you feel like you've figured out this plan. You're so sure you know exactly what God wants you to do that nothing can convince you otherwise.

That was me for about an entire year.

For a little while near the end of high school, I wanted to be an actress. I love acting, and I love every aspect of the theatre world. But then, senior year, something changed. I became inspired. I wanted to be a theatre teacher. It was all thanks to my theatre directors; they were some of the most influential people that I have had the pleasure to meet. I wanted it so bad that I even convinced myself that this is exactly what God wanted me to do with my life. This was my destiny, to be really dramatic.

So, I graduated feeling pretty confident in my decision. I was going to audition to be a theatre education major once auditions rolled around again (I had missed the first round). Unfortunately, this meant that I had to wait until the end of the first semester. But I didn't let that get me down. I was very determined. So, I waited, and I practiced my audition pieces, and I mentally prepared myself. I even went in as a theatre minor to try to immerse myself in that community as much as possible.

As the semester went along, I started to notice something. The theatre department was very, very close with one another. They were like one huge family. This made sense, of course. Considering how busy they are, they don't really get to hang out with anyone else. But for me, this was a problem. I couldn't see a place for me there. It's hard to just throw yourself in there without the proper welcome.

I started to question whether or not this was the right decision. The thing was, I was so convinced that this was God's plan for me that I had absolutely no back-up plan. I had no idea what I would do if this didn't work out. So the closer it got to my audition, the more I started to panic. The week of, I had multiple breakdowns where I would just curl up on my floor and cry and just ask God if I was doing the right thing.

The audition came and went. It actually went pretty well. I felt relieved to finally get that over with. But then it was time to wait. And wait. And wait. I eventually got told that I had been put on a shorter list, meaning that I had made it to the next round, so to speak, but there were still several people auditioning so I would have to wait longer. And I started to freak out. Again.

But, by this time, I had found a good group of friends. When I told them how I was feeling, they immediately assured me that everything would be fine, that God had a plan, that they were praying for me.

Then, one day, the letter came. I was at work, and my mom called me to tell me a letter addressed to me had come in the mailbox. I told her to bring it up to school since I was about to get off. By the time I walked out of work, I was literally shaking. My friends were anxiously waiting for me to tell them what the letter said. My mom and I went outside, and after taking a deep breath, I opened the letter.

I don't really remember exactly what the letter said. One word stood out to me. "Unfortunately..."

I stood there staring at the letter, feeling numb. My mom took a little longer, and then she just looked at me. I remember just looking up and saying, "I didn't make it." She didn't say anything; she didn't have to. I started fanning my face with the letter in a sad attempt to stop the breakdown I could feel coming on, but it was no use. I just broke.

My mom was fantastic. She just pulled me in her arms and held me. We were still in public, so she took me to the car. After a few minutes of just crying, she decided to take me home for a little while so I could cry in peace. We drove home in silence, with me crying off and on. By the time I got home, I was sort of calm. But as soon as I walked in my house, I let out one of those heart wrenching sobs that just shakes your whole body with the force of it. And I remember my dad just wrapping me in a hug, and I started to full out sob. I just couldn't stop. For about an hour after that, I just cried in my mom's arms on the couch, my dad sitting across from us; both of them just being the comforting presence that I needed.

I remember all the feelings I had. Sadness. Disappointment. Anger. And then just a sense of being completely lost. What was I supposed to do now?

I had texted all my friends so they would know what was going on. They all told me they were sincerely sorry and that they were there for me.

After a while, I had calmed down enough to head back to the dorm. My mom drove me back, and I slowly walked up the stairs. As I approached my room, though, I saw that there was something on my door. A lot of somethings, actually.

Sticky notes with encouraging words and song lyrics.

My friends had done this in the hour and a half that I was at home so it would be waiting for me when I got back. They also got me a milkshake and sprayed me with silly string. My roommate brought me cookies from work. They all sat down to watch a Disney movie with me. My cousin even came over and brought me ice cream.

They all set everything else aside and put me first for just a few hours. Just because they knew that's exactly what I needed.

It was at that moment, where I felt pure joy and unconditional love from everyone around me, that I realized something. This was part of God's plan. I missed the first round of auditions and didn't get into the theatre department because God knew that's not what I needed. If I had made it in at the beginning, I may not have met the people who I now can't imagine living without. The people who, as soon as I told them that my dream had pretty much been shattered, dropped everything to make sure I was okay. The people who supported me through it all. That's what I needed.

God is pretty incredible, isn't he? He's sneaky, too. He occasionally let's you try out what you think is right, only to prove you wrong and say, "See? I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

This time, I'm putting my trust in God. If this isn't right either, then he'll let me know. He always does.

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"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord's holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know  this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."

There Are No Small Roles

In theatre, we have this saying: There are no small roles, only small actors. However, once you get into the world of theatre, you start to realize that this is a big lie. At least the way it's worded. Of course there are small roles (and small actors, but that's another point). That's just the way it goes; there are lead roles, supporting roles, and then usually chorus people, who usually have no lines.

I think the problem is that people look at it too literally. Yes, there are small roles. But what I think it should say is that there are no insignificant roles. Even if you have one line in a show, that one line could have a big impact on the plot. I mean, just think: if the part was unimportant, why would the author take the time to put it in their play?

Last week we had a unity service at my church. We usually have an all-English service and then a bilingual service going on at the same time, but we decided to combine the two. We even had some other languages mixed in there as well.

The message last week, which was very well done by my church's youth minister, was an encouraging one about how the church is meant to be one body. He even used the sweaters Dr. Cliff Huxtable (played by the always hilarious Bill Cosby) wore on the Cosby show. If you haven't seen that show, at least go look at some of the sweaters Dr. Huxtable wore; they're pretty great. But the sweaters were made with all different kinds of fabric woven together into one piece; some didn't even look like they should ever belong there.

And that's the point, isn't it?

This morning, my dad used the literal example from the Bible. In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul describes the church as one body, and that every part has its own role to play and that not a single one can take over for another part; they are all unique and made for their purpose. An eye can't be a leg, and vice versa. That's just not what they were meant to do. Our eyes have their own purpose, our hands have theirs, our legs have theirs, and so on. Everything has a job to do, and yet they are all connected in one unified purpose. Someone from our congregation said, "The church is not an organization, it's an organism."

That's just how we are, too. We were all created with gifts and talents that are unique and different. Everyone has a purpose in life, something they can do that will have some impact on the world, whether invisible or life changing.

In a previous post, I described a mission trip I participated in. We went to Cuba, and the main reason we were there was for a youth conference they have every summer. And there was one thing people kept telling us four young people in the group, before and during and after: "You guys are the main characters here." I see where they got that idea. I have never been on a mission trip where I have felt so important. I was asked to teach a theatre class. Not just help someone else teach, they wanted me to do the teaching. I've never done anything like that before, and especially not because someone asked me to. But I did. And it was an incredible experience. Not only that; the other three young people either taught a class or helped another teacher. And since it was a youth conference, the people there loved seeing young people from a different country that shared their beliefs.

At the same time, though, the adults were a huge part of that trip. They made all the plans, they taught several sermons and adult bible classes, one directed a choir, one taught a two-part class on marriage, the ladies even had to teach the children's class two Sundays in a row, and they had no idea they were going to do that. Some may believe that the young people were the main characters. That's fine. But I still believe that every single person on that trip was meant to be there for a reason. No one had an insignificant role.

This applies to our lives. God gave everyone a gift, something they are good at that can have an effect on someone or something else. It may be something that seems small and unimportant, but I promise that God had a reason for giving us our talents. We just have to learn how we can do those things in a way that honors our Father.

To finish off this post, I'll share a quick story. Two of my friends got rather small parts for a play that we were taking to a competition. They were bummed out because they hardly ever get the big roles that they really want. I was trying to encourage them, but they wouldn't really listen because I was getting lead roles and they felt that it wasn't fair for me to say those things. But when we performed our show for the judges, they got medals for portraying their roles so well. Hardly anyone in our cast got an award, but they did.

So even if you feel like you have a gift or talent that is insignificant, if you use those gifts to your best abilities, something great will come out of it. God wouldn't give you that talent unless he had a plan for you.

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"From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work."