Trabuco Canyon Community Church
I Want to Ask Jesus a Question!
On Palm Sunday, our grandsons Ayden, age six, and Cadence, age four, accompanied us to worship at our new church, Trabuco Canyon Community Church. We had explained to the boys that our new church was a little church. At our previous “big” church, the boys went to Sunday school before we went to the sanctuary; at TCCC, the whole family begins the day in the sanctuary. After opening worship and the offering, the children are dismissed to attend Sunday school.
The boys trotted off to Sunday school at the appropriate time. After the service, we collected them and took them to the fellowship hall, where the monthly potluck was underway. We each took a boy and shepherded them through the potluck buffet, then sat down to enjoy the meal.
“Lala,” Cadence said, as soon as we’d sat down, “Can we go back in there? I want to ask Jesus a question!” He pointed to the sanctuary. At first I was confused. I had brought spaghetti for the potluck. When Cadence said “Jesus,” it sounded like “cheeses.” I thought he was asking for more parmesan for his spaghetti.
In the endearing, persistent style of young children, he repeated his request: “I want to ask Jesus a question!”
Finally I understood that he was saying “Jesus,” not “cheeses.”
“What do you want to ask Him?” I said.
“I want to ask Jesus why He had to die,” Cadence answered.
I drew in a breath and let fly a silent prayer. “Father, guide my tongue,” I prayed. “Give me wisdom to answer this question.”
At that moment, our pastor, Robert Jacobsen, emerged through the door that connects the sanctuary to the fellowship hall.
Cadence leapt from his seat. “Jesus!! Jesus!!” he called out, waving wildly.
“Oh, Honey,” I said to my grandson. “That’s not Jesus. That’s our pastor. Jesus is in heaven, and we meet Him face-to-face when we go to heaven. But He is with us and we can call on Him any time.”
Cadence looked at me, bewildered.
Instantly the child’s confusion was clear to me. Since he’d been old enough to understand, I’d always explained to him that we went to church “To tell Jesus we love Him.” At our previous church, he went directly to Sunday school. Here, he’d been in the sanctuary, and had deduced that the man up front running the show must be Jesus.
As it happened, Pastor Robert’s daughter, Gracie, was sitting across the table from us, so he took a seat next to her. “Pastor Robert,” I said, “Cadence has a question that he wanted to ask Jesus.”
Pastor Robert invited my grandson to sit beside him. He asked him what his question for Jesus was, and then explained, in words that fit a four-year-old, about sin and sacrifice and grace and forgiveness. Cadence listened.
I sat across the table, breathless.
Then we all ate our potluck lunch.
Later, it dawned on me: our little grandson, who occasionally is shy, had not hidden behind my skirt, and in his misunderstanding, whispered, “Lala, I want to ask Jesus a question.”
No. He had jumped up, waved his chubby little hand with the dinosaur stamp on its back, and confidently called on “Jesus.”
Cadence is but a small boy, but he already goes boldly before his King.
This Easter Sunday, call on your King. He’s waiting. For you.
14 But Jesus said, “Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”Matthew 19:14 (NASB)
"From the mouths of babes." Thank you.
It's my pleasure, Red. I'm delighted to report that today Cadence was recounting the tale to his auntie and he remembered that Jesus died to save us.
Then he turned to me and said, "Lala, what did He save us from?"
That question was just the opening I needed to explain what we celebrate on Easter–our Christ, our Lord, our King, Risen!
What a precious observation, Sheila. You have done a good job communicating the love of Jesus to your grandson. For him to step outside of his usual shyness and feel so secure to speak to the One. I'm so glad you linked up today! I do pray your Easter was sweet. Now we carry that joy with us. Always.
Thank you, Laura.
Easter was sweet. I hope yours was, too.
It's inherently sweet, isn't it?
What a precious story. How special that he has you. May your grandson continue to boldly cry "Jesus!"
That's my prayer, Anna. Thanks for stopping by.