DARE Woman,
Last week, I returned home after a trip, as I settled back into the rhythm of home, I noticed my four-year-old son making repeated trips to the kitchen.
Each time, he filled a bottle with water. He would carefully carry it outside, pour it onto the same flower in our garden, then run back inside to refill it again.
Back and forth………………………..
Again and again………………………
Curious, I finally asked,
“What are you doing?”
Without hesitation, he looked up at me with complete sincerity and said,
“I’m helping the flower grow quickly.”
I smiled.
Then he continued.
“I want it to grow every week until it becomes a ladder that reaches heaven. Then I can climb it, shake God’s hand, and come back to earth.”
I stood there for a moment.
Not because I thought his plan would work.
But because of what it revealed.
His imagination was not limited by what he could see.
His faith had not yet been taught to calculate what was impossible.
To him, heaven was real.
God was real.
Meeting Him was not a distant theological concept.
It was the deepest desire of his little heart.
As I reflected on his words, I wondered whether somewhere along the journey of adulthood we lose something precious.
Not wisdom! Not discernment!!
But wonder………………………..
Children believe before they analyse.
They trust before they calculate.
They dream before they doubt.
Somewhere along the way, we become experts at explaining why something cannot happen.
We measure possibilities by our experience instead of by God’s power.
We become so grounded in what is reasonable that we sometimes lose sight of what is eternal.
My son’s flower will never become a ladder.
But perhaps his longing teaches me something my logic has forgotten.
Do I still long for God with that kind of simplicity?
Do I still pursue Him with that kind of determination?
Would anyone watching my life conclude that I genuinely believe heaven is real?
That I truly desire to know God, not merely know about Him?
Jesus once said that unless we become like little children, we cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.
I don’t believe He was inviting us to become childish.
He was inviting us to recover childlike faith.
The kind of faith that believes God hears.
The kind of faith that expects Him to respond.
The kind of faith that pursues Him because relationship matters more than results.
Watching my son that day, I realised something else.
He didn’t water the flower once.
He kept returning, bottle after bottle.
There was perseverance in his belief, consistency in his hope and he was investing in something he believed would grow.
Isn’t that what faith looks like?
Prayer after prayer.
Act of obedience after act of obedience.
Choosing forgiveness again.
Opening the Scriptures again.
Returning to God’s presence again.
Not because we always see immediate results, but because we believe growth is happening beneath the surface.
Perhaps the greatest lesson wasn’t about the flower at all.
It was about the heart behind the watering:
-A heart that believed heaven was worth pursuing.
-A heart that expected growth.
-A heart that wanted to meet God.
As adults, we know a flower cannot become a ladder to heaven.
But through Christ, God has already made a way for us to come near.
The invitation is not to climb our way to Him.
It is to walk with Him every day until faith becomes sight.
Today, I find myself praying not for a taller flower…
But for a deeper longing.
A longing that pursues God with the same joy, expectancy, and wholeheartedness as a four-year-old boy carrying bottle after bottle to a flower bed.
Perhaps that is the kind of faith heaven smiles upon.
Reflection
When did I begin to replace wonder with doubt?
Do I pursue God with the expectancy of a child or the caution of an adult?
What “watering” has God asked me to keep doing, even though I cannot yet see the full growth?
Is my heart more captivated by heaven or by the temporary things of earth?
What would it look like to seek God today with childlike faith?
Prayer
Father, thank You for the gift of childlike faith. Restore in me a heart that delights in You, believes Your promises, and pursues Your presence with joy and expectancy. Where life has made me cynical, make me hopeful again. Where disappointment has made me hesitant, teach me to trust again. Help me to faithfully keep watering the seeds You have planted, knowing that You are the One who gives the growth. Above all, let my greatest desire be to know You more each day until the day I see You face to face. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Yours in DARE-ing and Becoming,
Nkonye Odozi
