Hungry Little Eyes (Heb. 12:2; Luke 18:17)

We forget so quickly what it is like to be a small child, to have the faith a child has so naturally, to look up to the ones we love and want to imitate them, to be just like them. 

Last week, my husband fed a friend's catfish one afternoon for him, and since my oldest son and his family were with us, we took them, too, and let them see the fish feeding. Right now, we are in the middle of an extreme heat wave (yes, even the Deep South in August has heat advisories), but the uninitiated might have a hard time appreciating how miserable that can quickly get. All that to say it was hot! But we went and fed the hungry fish as quickly as we could and still let the little ones take it in.

As we walked onto the pier, we held tightly to the boys. The oldest grandson wanted to help feed the fish and do everything his daddy and his granddaddy were doing. He imitated them, watching closely, receiving instruction, and then with his own flair, throwing food to the eager catfish until it ran out; then he was picking up the bits that dropped and throwing it in as well. Eager to participate, to be big enough to help in a way his little brother could not.

If you’ve never seen catfish eat, for lack of a better word, they “swarm” to the food, “bubbling up” to eat it quickly, tumbling over each other in the water in their frenzy. They are hungry for what is being offered and receive it.

As I looked at some of the pictures I took that afternoon, I have been thinking about how the little ones want to be just like us until they don’t. They are hungry for the offerings we give them, whether those offerings are intentional or unintentional, good or less than, effective or wasted. The window of opportunity is so very small, and as I have heard many older adults say, "If I could do it again . . . I would do so much better," or even, "Parenthood was wasted on me at the time."

Little ones are watching, but often we are not always paying attention, our actions speaking loudly over our words that whisper hoarsely in their weaknesses, their effectiveness negated by of our actions that often contradict. 

The hungry little ones swarm to what we offer and want to be just like us until the world suddenly and inexplicably looks better, even at times seeming truer than the vision of our lives as seen through their little lenses. I have a clearer vision of the past with my littles than I have ever had, and that has come into focus as I see them living out their lives as young adults with jobs, with families, with responsibilities, with their own witnesses, as they juggle the world in which they live, making their own choices for which they will be responsible one day (that will come much more quickly than they could begin to imagine). I see so much of myself that I didn’t even know I was giving to them; I often don’t see what I thought I was imparting. I missed the mark so badly, having no idea how fast it all would go by, thinking I was doing a good job in doing my limited best and holding myself to the wrong standard. I prayed (and still pray) often that God would work in me and them and I know He has. He is. He will. But all the same, it is terribly sobering to see and know that they may never see past what I was when they were little. They may not see who I really am now, how I’ve grown, how I’ve changed. They heard and saw my failures and internalized those—amazing, isn’t it, how easily the things we wouldn’t wish to transfer to the next generation are picked up and propagated? They see so much more than we give them credit for seeing, and my opportunities to influence them in ways that truly matter have significantly passed me by for the most part as they are now busy with their own lives.

Regardless of how this might sound, this is not a lament today (although at times regret for things I cannot change will suddenly loom large and I have to choose to reach for the grace God so freely offers me at His own cost). This is not a condemnation of young ones struggling through what life throws at them the way I struggled at what life threw at me. 

However, this is an encouragement to walk out the narrow way with integrity and love and self-sacrifice, knowing that others, little eyes and big eyes both, are watching us, that our lives witness loudly what we truly believe, believed, and will believe. 

This is encouragement to stay on the path. Eyes on Christ. Looking to Him for the strength we need for today. Childlike. Eager. Imitating Him, the One who never fails to be the example we need.

Luke 18:17 speaks to this childlike faith as Jesus tells His disciples, "Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it" (ESV). We want to remain soft, eager, childlike in our faith. Hebrews 12:2 says this: “fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” So we look at Christ with a childlike gaze, eagerly taking in EVERYTHING He has left for us to know about life with Him now and later, and we do not lose hope as we walk out our faith here in this life.

Stay hungry for Jesus, and receive the kingdom like a child, witness to others who are watching us, eyes fixed on Him, the author and finisher of our faith. He is everything I want others to see in me, and He is everything I want to fill my eyes with.