Let the little children come to me

Both Kenneth and I are first generation Christians in our families, meaning we were not born into Christian families and made the decision to become believers on our own accord. Like many Christian parents, we sometimes worry that our kids may not be as convicted in their faith because they had "inherited" it, so to speak.

For Andre especially, God always seemed more like a fairy tale - someone he hears about on Sundays and in school, but a little detached from his everyday life. Even though we say prayers at bedtime, his tend to sound a little like a wishlist, as is typical of many kids. Something along the lines of "Thank you God for a wonderful day, please help me with my studies and my badminton."

At some point after Easter Sunday, something changed. I'm not sure what or when but it started with me finding Andre reading the children's bible on Tuesday. We've had this bible in our home since Lesley-Anne was a baby but he's never been very interested in it. He then asked me about certain bible verses and where he could find them.

Yesterday, I came home to discover him totally engrossed in the bible during his play time (this last point is significant because play time is usually sacred to Andre - reading is work!) I still didn't know what to think. Then that night when I went into his room, he eagerly brought me the bible. To my wonder, I realised that he'd read it cover to cover in two days. As he flipped the pages, he excitedly recounted each story to me.

These are all stories he has heard before but for the first time, I could tell that they held meaning for him. Over an hour or so, he earnestly shared how God had worked in the lives of Jacob, David, Daniel, Joseph, Jonah, among many others. His childlike enthusiasim was infectious - through him, I experienced once again the fervour and fire of someone who had just discovered the marvel of a personal relationship with God.

He asked me many questions about God and his prayer that night was completely different from those in the past. I almost felt like I was listening in on a private conversation. I won't repeat it here because that would be disrespectful to him but it was touchingly heartfelt and personal.

There is no way to describe how I felt, no words can do it justice. When you see the hand of God touching your child, it's simply magical. I don't know if it was sparked by prayer over many years, the school's influence or something that someone said to Andre. I only know that it was the perfect Easter present, and as always, given in God's perfect time.

"I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children." - Matthew 11:25