God reminded me that it's not my job to logic and argue people into heaven, even when those people are my children.
My hands dove into the soapy water, and my back slumped as I scrubbed dinner dishes, tired from a long day. I felt a tug at my sweater from behind; I turned to see my son looking at me through pensive eyebrows. "Hey, mom. How do you know it's true?"
I asked in return, "Hmm…how do I know what is true?"
“Ya know… about Jesus… How do you know that he died on the cross? How do you know Jesus takes care of the bad things we do?" He paused for a minute and then continued, "And that we will go to heaven when we die? How do we know that will happen?"
Surprised by the sudden line of questioning, I took a breath, dried my hands, and turned to my son to give him my full attention.
This son loves logic, numbers, and puzzle pieces fitting together. The "how" and "why" are important to him. But I knew there was more than understanding the logic behind his questions. There was another layer attached, one of a personal matter that was drawing out his need to hold onto hope at a deeper level.
I knew he was thinking back to when I was pregnant with a baby girl. The little sister he should have been growing up with, but due to a genetic condition, was born still midway through my pregnancy. A loss our family felt deeply.
Life's hardships push questions to the surface. Questions often shaped by our personalities and life's circumstances, like my son's love of logic and experiencing loss at a young age. At some point in our lives, we all struggle with those deep questions about the human soul and life's purpose. As believers in Christ, we hold the treasure of a sure hope. But when I share the good news of the gospel with others, I often wonder if I can answer their difficult questions. What unseen hurts are they wrestling with?
I wonder if I'm saying the right words. Am I saying enough, or maybe I'm saying too much?
In the kitchen that evening, I offered up a quick prayer and searched for assuring words to give my son, to ground him in the deep truths of the gospel and why we believe it holds up against hard questions. I confessed that I, too, struggle with doubt at times. But even when we doubt, Christ holds us fast, and we can remember our baptism and the promises that come with it.
As I lay in bed that night, thinking over the conversation with my son. I pondered over those questions again and my response. Did I give him the answers he needed to hear in a way a grieving 8-year-old can process?
In my anxious thoughts, God reminded me of the importance of praying over those we are giving the gospel to. The importance of praying for the people in our lives we disciple. Because God is the one who ultimately knows where our questions originate and the roadblocks that are in the way of understanding: barriers that only he can move.
This Scripture passage came to mind:
"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast" (Eph. 2:8-9).
God reminded me that it's not my job to logic and argue people into heaven, even when those people are my children. Yes, we teach them faith, we bring them to Jesus through baptism, and we wrestle through the hard questions about Christianity and why we believe it. But it is not my job to do the work of the Holy Spirit. There is work to be done that I have zero control over. God is the one who opens our eyes and instills faith in our hearts and minds. He uses parents, mentors, churches, pastors, tangible vocations, and physical means on our journeys of faith. But it is ultimately God at work using all these people and circumstances for his purpose.
There is incredible relief in knowing the faith journey of those God has placed in my life does not rest on my shoulders. Being in others' lives can be messy, finding the right words can be scary, and raising our children can be exhausting at times. But we do not enter into our God-given vocations by our own strength. Instead, we rest in the work of Christ both on our behalf and for those he places around us, both who we serve and who serve us.
We will mess up, we will say the wrong words, and we won't be as loving or as patient as we should be. This is not a surprise to our God; he's at work in our mess. He reminds me to rest in Jesus Christ, who is ever patient with me in my struggles and trials. He reminds me that I need not fear when sharing the good news with those in my life, whether outside my home with friends and neighbors or inside my home with my children. Ultimately, we rest in the work of Christ to bring others to faith. Praise be to God!
