Suffer the Little Children

Sitting here at my computer, I’m listening to Colbie Caillet and Sara Bareilles on You Tube sing songs of joy, hope, and a looking forward to what life has for them, for us. Then a post comes across my Facebook feed saying that a child, a child has died. This child was a boy, only seven years old.

It is sobering, isn’t it. For those of us who have never lost a child, it is a corn maze of confusion and questions, because, well, you know, parents are not supposed to bury their children.

So we immediately grieve for those parents, grandparents, and siblings, whom we don’t even know. We look at the picture of that precious little one and can feel in our hearts the softness of his skin and the lilt and joy in his voice.

So, we say a prayer. It’s all we have, and it feels like such a poor offering. We struggle through all those thoughts of “What would we do” and “How can they survive such a loss,” and we pray to God, our God, so far away and yet so deeply, lovingly entwined in our hearts.  We pray that he – God will do something for them – something that we don’t know how to define or how to verbalize.

We rehearse the stark, painful, and inexplicable reality that horrible things happen to children of this world. But, according to the writer, “rain and chance happens to us all” and happens to the children. That would be the end of it, the most horrible, dark end of it, if it were not for this one thing, and I learned this as a child in Methodist Sunday School…

“Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world.”

He said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me for of such is the kingdom of God.”

So, God called one of the little children to come to him today.

That little one will suffer no more.

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