Front Porch Reflections

Let the Little Children Come

This month, with Easter drawing close, my wife sat with the daycare kids and told them about Jesus — not with pressure, not with a plan, just the simple story of why we celebrate this season. She spoke the way she always does, gentle and matter‑of‑fact, like she’s handing someone a warm cup of something good.

And then something happened that no one orchestrated.

Three of those little ones bowed their heads and prayed — not because they were told to, not because they were coached, but because something in their small hearts recognized the voice of the Shepherd. They prayed honest, child‑sized prayers, the kind that rise straight up without passing through any filters.

No fanfare. No spotlight. Just the quiet sound of heaven brushing the floor of our living room.

I sat with that for a long time afterward. How God moves where He wants, when He wants, without waiting for us to be impressive or prepared. How the kingdom keeps slipping in through the cracks — through story time, through crayons on the table, through the soft faith of children who haven’t learned to complicate things yet.

Jesus once said, “Let the little children come to Me… for the kingdom belongs to such as these.” I think I saw that kingdom open its door a little wider that day.

And it reminded me that resurrection isn’t just an event we wait for — it’s a Person who keeps showing up in the smallest places, calling hearts to life even before they know the words for it.

May we all have ears as open as theirs.