We were eating dinner when she peeked in from the door which opens to our deck. At just four-years-old, our little neighbor’s eyes got wide when she saw eight of us around the dinner table. Fumbling with the door knob, she quickly opened the door and burst inside.
“My daddy started a fire in the backyard and we’re going to have marshmallows!” she exclaimed. “You can come over if you want to!”
There were eight of us around the table, ranging in age from 8 to 88. One was a guest she’d never laid eyes on before. Still, she invited all of us to the massive party she envisioned. In her mind, everyone was welcome to the feast.
Her parents came to gather her up and when they heard about the giant marshmallow roast, this was news to them. They had no marshmallows, and neither did we.
All of us laughed. But I think we learned something about faith. To a four-year-old, seeing a flame was enough to envision a neighborhood gathering around with marshmallows, s’mores, stories and who knows what else. This is faith.
The other day at the 2020 Vision Conference for the Illinois pregnancy help community, I had the opportunity to talk about child-like faith, tying this into their incredible mission of ending abortion in the state by—you guessed it—2020.
This—to put it mildly—is an ambitious goal. Don’t they realize Illinois is a “blue state?” Don’t they understand the Illinois General Assembly—and its “Republican” Governor Bruce Rauner—passed a law requiring pro-life pregnancy centers to refer patients for abortion while also forcing them to tell the so-called benefits of abortion?
I certainly understood when, during the Question and Answer portion, someone asked, “I want to believe we can do this, but with all of the obstacles we face, what can you say to help my unbelief?”
Ahhh, it’s the same situation the father of a boy possessed by a spirit faced in Mark 9 when he said to Jesus, “I do believe. Help my unbelief.”
I was thankful for her question, because she was transparent enough to say what all of us are thinking at times.
When we see a spiritual fire begin we often go into full adult-mode, “realistically” reminding ourselves (and others) that eventually all fires go out. I know I do. And when it comes to our work to eliminate the very idea of abortion, I can be quick to think in my heart, “But that’s just a dream—let’s not get carried away.”
My little next-door neighbor doesn’t see things with an adult lens. She saw a fire and couldn’t wait for the magical party to begin. In her mind, something amazing was about to happen and she couldn’t wait to invite us over.
When I consider the question of life, give me her faith. Because the faith I saw in Illinois—even from the many of us admitting a level of unbelief—is the faith of a child.
Tweet This: Ending abortion by 2020? It might just take the faith of a child. @kirkwalden #prolife
In Illinois, they are too naïve to comprehend just how difficult the task is in front of them. Instead, they are committed to reaching at least 20 percent of abortion-shopping women, because cutting the abortion rate by 20 percent could be the difference between abortion centers staying open...and shuttering their doors.
And just like my next-door neighbor, the Illinois pregnancy help community is knocking on our doors, excited about the possibility of our joining the party.
I don’t know about you, but I would start looking for marshmallows, because we’re about to have a party.