Do you ever have days where you feel like a moron at your job? I have been trained to teach the
Gospel to kids in an understandable way. I have studied, practiced, reviewed, and repeated the steps
needed for seven years. I love the fact that my job is to teach kids how they can have their sins forgiven.
And yet, much of my job is out of my control. I can do everything right: cover every step, ask all the right
questions, but in the end, it’s God’s job, and only God’s job, to make this information connect in the
child’s understanding and heart. There is nothing more difficult for me than trusting a child into God’s
sovereign hands when he or she just doesn’t seem ready to take the step of accepting His salvation. But
when I am surrounded by four children, all of whom don’t seem to understand anything I am teaching
them, I begin wondering if it’s really God’s timing, or if there’s something I’m leaving out.
We sat on the floor of a school cafeteria, out of the way of the 50 shouting, excited children who
were memorizing the Bible verse. This public school Good News Club © had just finished the Bible lesson
about King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream and subsequent seven-year-mental illness, and these children had
just indicated that they wanted to know more about God’s gift of salvation. I instantly ran into a
problem: Raphael (names changed), the oldest, was an energetic young boy who could not for the life of
him sit still, no matter what. Tim, the youngest, came from a difficult home and was unable to pay
attention long enough to sit still and answer questions, let alone make it through the Wordless Book.
Tim had come back in the past, but had never seemed to understand the Bible verses or any of my
questions to him. This was confusing to me, as he could lecture at length on the military training of
German Shepherds (He’d received a book for his birthday) and was obviously very intelligent, especially
for a first grader still learning to read. Jenny, the only girl in the group, gave me a little bit of hope, as
she sat quietly, hands folded, making steady eye contact with me. but all of the children were distracted
by Raphael as he turned handstands in the corner of the school cafeteria, two feet from where we sat.
Lord, help me figure this out, I prayed.
Somehow, Raphael realized right away that he had already made this decision to put his faith in
Jesus. This was huge, as I had sat with him for 30 minutes the week before, talking through all his
questions and multiple Bible verses with him until he had seemed to understand. Now he looked up at
me and said, “I get it! I’ve already done this!” He went back to his seat with the rest of the Good News
Club kids, leaving me thrilled that he was connecting with the information and that he wasn’t going to
continue distracting my other three.
I worked through the lesson with the first two, allowing Tim to wander in and out of hearing
distance (although I kept an eye on him to make sure he was safe). He would need one-on-one
discussion in a moment. But each child (including Tim, when he could tune in) kept running into the
same difficulty: “I’ve already done this.”
“That’s awesome,” I encouraged them. “Tell me about when you made this decision to trust
Jesus to forgive your sins.”
“I had this dream…” and the child would proceed to talk about a nightmare he or she had had
(catalyzed perhaps by the Bible lesson of King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream?), but never linking this to any
salvific truths or beliefs.
“OK, what about your sins?” I prompted. Three sets of eyes stared blankly back at me.
After the fifth time we had gone through the verses, reviewed the colors of the wordless book,
and I had asked the same questions rephrased as creatively and simply as I knew how, I was about to
pull out my hair and send them back to class. Maybe they’re just not ready, Lord, I prayed silently. But it
was frustrating to me that none of them could understand—it felt like I was the common denominator,
like there was something I should be saying: a different phrase, a different verse, that would help these
truths click into focus.
I tried one last time, going over the concepts of sin, giving examples, reminding them of Jesus’
death and resurrection. “Have you ever believed in him like John 3:36 talks about?” I asked, showing
them the underlined verse in my Bible. All three heads nodded, yet again. “When was that?” I asked, not
really expecting a different answer.
“While you were talking about it,” Jenny and the other child told me. “We trusted him to take
away our sins. Because he died and came back. And he forgave us. Even the sins we haven’t done yet.” It
had clicked.
I was astounded. I walked both children through a few verses about growth and assurance, then
sent them back to sing Christmas carols with the rest of the class. But Tim still sat (or rather crawled
around) in front of me, flipping through the wordless book I’d given him to help hold his concentration
while I had worked with the other children. Flipping to the dark page, I asked him, “Who has sinned?”
“I have,” he answered promptly. “Sin is like disobeying your mom.”
“What did Jesus do for you to take away your sins?” I asked.
“Died and came alive again. I want to believe this.” He bowed his head and prayed, then looked
up. “He forgave my sins, just like I asked him to.”
The best moment of my day was telling Tim, “Sometimes Mommies and Daddies can’t show us
the love that we should be getting from them. But if you believed that just now, then Jesus is your
forever friend, who will never leave you, and more than that, God is your perfect heavenly Father who
will always do only good, not bad.”
I have no idea why it clicked. I’ve gone over and over and over that afternoon in my mind, trying
to figure out why it made sense, what I said or did differently, but the truth is, God chose that moment
to help the children understand. It had nothing to do with me. I’m just so thankful He allowed me to be
part of it.
by Jess Kymonie Bella