Embracing Childlike Faith: Coloring Outside the Lines

Navigating the constant flow of negativity and fear in our news feeds and daily lives can be incredibly challenging, especially today. It’s all too easy to become disheartened and lose sight of the simple truths that once grounded and comforted us.

I often long for something real, something authentic that resonates deeply and reminds me that goodness still exists, even when life feels messy, chaotic, and unpredictable.

During the difficult and uncertain seasons of my life, childlike faith became my anchor. It grounded me and softened my heart. In moments of confusion and doubt—when I wanted to give up on faith altogether, and the weight of the world felt too heavy to bear—this simple yet profound trust provided clarity and comfort.

In those quiet moments, away from social media, I began to reconnect with my childhood imagination and curiosity. I started noticing the little things again: the beauty in nature, the changing seasons, a quiet morning, a kind word, or a moment of unexpected joy. I found myself asking questions and opening up to life’s mysteries instead of feeling the need to have everything figured out.

When Jesus spoke about becoming like little children, He wasn’t telling us to be immature or naïve. He was inviting us to embrace qualities like trust, humility, openness, and a willingness to receive.

Faith doesn’t have to be structured or conventional. It can be as free-spirited as a child’s imagination. It invites us to let go of our desire for control and trust the One who sees every intricate detail of our journey.

Having childlike faith doesn’t mean I never worry, question, or struggle to understand what God is doing. It simply means I’m learning that I don’t have to understand everything to trust. Sometimes, faith is about taking the next step, even when we can’t see the whole path ahead.

In a time marked by fear, division, and uncertainty, I find myself thinking about the next generation and the kind of world they will inherit.

If my journey has taught me anything, it’s that wonder, curiosity, and hope are precious gifts worth holding onto. They can anchor us when life feels uncertain and help us stay open-hearted, even when the world around us feels anything but simple.

So, how can we help the next generation of children navigate the realities they will encounter without losing their natural sense of wonder, curiosity, and hope?

How do we create an environment where they can flourish without carrying the heavy burdens of fear and division?

And most importantly, how can we show them they can navigate a complicated world without letting it harden their hearts?

I don’t have all the answers, but I believe we can begin by creating a world where creativity is not only acknowledged but celebrated—where children and even adults are free to imagine, experiment, and express themselves in their uniqueness without fear of judgment.

We may not be able to shield children from every negative influence or division in the world. Yet we can offer something deeper and more lasting: a foundation built on kindness instead of hatred, compassion rather than judgment, and acceptance instead of conformity.

Children aren’t born with hatred. They come into the world full of wonder, enthusiasm, and a desire to explore. They are trusting and open; they possess qualities many of us gradually lose as we grow older.

This brings to mind an inspiring teaching from Jesus: “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these.”

In context, Jesus was responding to the disciples. In their human minds, they tried to protect Jesus from distractions by preventing people from bringing their children to Him. They may have believed that the children would divert His attention from the profound teachings meant for adults. Yet by embracing children’s innocence and openness, we find a deeper connection to His message.

The truth is, Jesus didn’t view the children’s interruptions as a hindrance. He joyfully welcomed them because of their innocence and purity.

I get that. My two youngest grandchildren burst with energy and inquisitiveness, bringing me immense joy as I watch them discover the world around them. Their excitement is contagious. They find delight in the simplest things, and seeing the world through their eyes reminds me how easily we adults can complicate what children grasp so genuinely.

I can vividly imagine them running toward Jesus with the same eager anticipation and trust they bring to every new experience, their hearts overflowing with innocence and wonder.

Reflecting on a time when my faith felt more rigid and structured, I recognize that I may have reacted like the disciples, believing certain occasions were too sacred or important to be interrupted with my grandchildren’s enthusiasm.

There’s something liberating about embracing childlike faith. It transcends boundaries and opens our eyes to the endless possibilities that lie beyond our current understanding.

I often compare life to a coloring book, where each blank page holds limitless potential.

Imagine a child sitting down with a new coloring book and a box of crayons. They don’t typically worry about whether the sky should be blue or if the grass should be green. They might color a tree purple, a dog orange, or draw a sun using every color in the box. 

And if the crayon slips outside the lines, they keep going. They don’t throw the picture away or assume they’ve ruined everything. They continue to color.

So, let me ask you: What kind of picture will you choose to create? Will you stay within the lines, follow the well-trodden path, or dare to step beyond the boundaries to create something that reflects your true self?

Both choices have their value, as each of us is crafted in the image of God, who cherishes our individuality. Yet often, when we venture beyond our comfort zones and embrace the unknown, we discover more of who we’re truly meant to be.

I encourage you to pick up your crayon.

Don’t be afraid of the blank page.

Don’t worry if your colors don’t look like everyone else’s.

Don’t be afraid of making mistakes.

And don’t hesitate to step beyond the lines when you feel inspired.

After all, this is your page to color. You don’t have to create a picture that looks like everyone else’s. Trust the One who gave you the crayons, embrace the colors that make you uniquely you, and allow Him to bring your picture to life in ways you never imagined.

Tearing Down Our Emotional Walls

Hitting an emotional wall feels like reaching a dead end, where the gears of life shift and throw us off course. 

Bouncing back from this experience is a complex journey. It involves more than simply seeking temporary relief, such as enjoying the ocean air at the beach, taking a refreshing walk in nature, or working out at the gym. 

While these are all healthy choices, the emotional walls I'm referring to require us to confront mental and emotional fatigue and wrestle with a profound disconnect from the person we once were.

We all tend to avoid emotional pain—every single one of us. In doing so, we become “wall-builders” in our personal stories, sometimes consciously and sometimes unconsciously, with roots that may trace back to our childhood. 

In times of deep pain, it’s human nature to want to protect our hearts; it’s our defense mechanism kicking in to help us manage our emotions healthily. 

That’s the upside to our emotional walls. 

However, there’s also a downside. 

When left unchecked, these walls turn us into gatekeepers, constantly looking for potential danger, even when it doesn't exist. More importantly, they trap our emotions in a self-constructed prison, preventing us from fully experiencing them. After all, we can't heal what we don't acknowledge. 

Many of us fear being exposed and vulnerable, and rightly so. It’s uncomfortable, not to mention scary. So dismantling the emotional walls we've relied on for years—walls that have offered us shelter and protection—can be daunting. 

Yet, what if those walls no longer serve us? What if life has brought us to a pivotal moment where we can no longer ignore the call to break them down?

Do we dare go there? Do we dare sit with the shattered pieces? Do we dare analyze all the battles we’ve fought, every disappointment and hurt that led us to build those walls in the first place? 

Growing up in a large family, I didn’t have the space to express my emotions. As a result, I became skilled at internalizing my feelings, which led me to build emotional walls around my heart. My motto became, “I will stay protected. I’m safe here. No one will ever hurt me again.”

And it didn't stop there: toxic relationships during my young adult life and various challenges later in life reinforced the walls I'd built. After over forty years as a “wall builder,” I had constructed a fortress that isolated me from the world. Everywhere I turned, there was a dead end. What I thought was keeping me safe, what I thought was protecting me, in reality, was destroying me.

Bouncing back seemed impossible and hopeless. Still, deep down, I knew the only way forward was to take a sledgehammer—metaphorically speaking—and break free, one smashed brick at a time. 

This approach not only became the catalyst for improving my mental health, but it also gave me the courage to take risks and open myself up to vulnerability—all because I dared to go there. 

For different reasons, the gears of life have shifted once again. The U.S. election has thrown many of us off course. 

The walls of religion, homophobia, hatred, and injustice all weigh heavily on my heart.

What do the election results mean for Canada?

What impact will it have on my non-binary child, their American citizen wife, and my three adopted grandsons?

How will the government's indifference toward non-traditional families affect my grandchildren?

Will my LGBTQ2S+ family remain safe when visiting the U.S.? 

It’s all too easy to start laying bricks of fear during this time, and before we know it, there’s a border wall surrounding our hearts. 

I don't know about you, but I refuse to go back. I refuse to put my beautiful family back in the closet again. I will continue to do my part by helping to tear down the barriers that separate us, striving to move forward in peace and love, and leaving the rest in the hands of the Ultimate Builder of Unity—Jesus Christ, the One who came to break down the walls that divide us. 

“Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.”

Merry Christmas. 

Blindsided by Fear and Anxiety

To have the luxury of a secluded beach area within walking distance of my daughter's house here in Saint John, NB is such a blessing. I don't know about you, but there's just something about listening to the ocean that brings calmness and peace to my soul.

A few nights ago, however, as I became transfixed by the high storm surges unpredictability, the ocean evoked different emotions in me.

Standing near the shoreline, with the force of the wind beating against my face, I closed my eyes and envisioned that the ocean was angry and sad and frustrated. I envisioned that it was lashing out and speaking to me about the worst and most frightening moments that you and I are experiencing right now.

COVID-19 has not only become the hallmark of fear and anxiety, but it has forced our lives to slow down in ways that we never thought imaginable.

Day in and day out, we are left scrolling the internet or glued to our tv in hopes of finding some positive news, some certainty, something to at least soothe our anxious mind. Only to be bombarded by the increased cases of the virus, by the increased number of deaths, heightening our fear and anxiety even more so.

And this past weekend, while still consumed by fighting a common enemy in COVID-19, we were suddenly blindsided by a horrendous mass shooting in Nova Scotia, leaving the victims' families caught in a raging sea of grief, with no peace in sight.

Not only does my heart go out to the bereaved in Nova Scotia and around the world, but it puts my quarantine woes with COVID-19 into a different perspective as well. Because despite days when my fear and anxiety are heightened, despite days when I feel cooped up, despite days when I wish for normalcy, my loved ones are still okay.