The Unshakable Kingdom: 7 Soul-Stirring Biblical Lessons Waiting for You in a Child’s Eyes

The afternoon sun pooled like honey on the floor of my friend’s living room, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of tiny socks, scattered crayons, and the symphony of giggles and questions that filled the air. I had come to meet her—this steadfast soul, a well of wisdom and grace from my college years—but I left having been schooled by far quieter, smaller teachers. Her four children, from the earnest kindergartener to the sighing newborn in her arms, became living parables. In their unscripted moments, they echoed truths so profound they seemed to shake the dust from my adult faith. It was as if God had opened a window into the very heart of the Kingdom, and the view was not from a theological height, but from a place close to the floor, where wonder still lives.

In our pursuit of mature, sophisticated faith, we often distance ourselves from the very qualities Jesus lifted up as the gateway to His kingdom. He didn’t point to the scholars or the wealthy, but to a child placed in their midst. “Truly I tell you,” He said, “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). This isn’t a call to childishness, but to childlikeness—a sacred return to the core postures that align our souls with God’s heart. Here are seven biblical lessons, witnessed in the simple holiness of a child’s day, that can nourish and recalibrate our weary adult souls.

1. The Lesson of Unfiltered Wonder: Rediscovering the Divine “Wow!”

The oldest, just five, pressed his nose against the window as a common sparrow landed on the fence. “Wow!” he breathed, as if witnessing the first bird ever created. His wonder wasn’t reserved for grand spectacles, but for the daily miracles we’ve learned to overlook. Adults see a bird; a child sees a flying marvel. The Psalmist understood this language: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands” (Psalm 19:1). When was the last time a sunrise, a sprouting seed, or the intricate design of a leaf made us stop in silent, worshipful awe? Children teach us that wonder is the seed of worship. To reclaim our wonder is to see God’s hand everywhere again.

2. The Lesson of Immediate Forgiveness: The Shortest Memory of Wounds

A squabble over a toy erupted in tears. Minutes later, I watched, humbled, as the same two children were huddled together, sharing the very toy and conspiring in giggles. The offense was not just forgiven; it was forgotten, leaving no residue of resentment. Our adult hearts curate museums of past hurts, but children exemplify the Ephesians 4:32 principle: “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” Their forgiveness is a river, not a dam. It flows freely, cleansing the present moment. They embody the breathtaking, disarming economy of grace that God extends to us—and asks us to offer others.

3. The Lesson of Radical Dependence: The Strength in “I Can’t Do It Myself”

The toddler, fiercely independent, would still raise her arms high, signaling a fundamental truth: “I cannot get up there by myself.” She never doubted that strong arms would lift her. As adults, our culture prizes self-sufficiency to a fault, turning reliance into a weakness. Yet, our faith is built on the foundation of radical dependence: “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7). Children live in a state of surrendered need. They remind us that our most spiritually mature utterance is also our simplest: “Abba, Father, I need You.” True strength lies not in carrying our load alone, but in knowing whose arms are waiting to lift us.

4. The Lesson of Uninhibited Joy: Dancing Before the Lord Unashamed

There was a moment when a favorite song came on. Without a hint of self-consciousness, the children began to dance—a full-bodied, jubilant, utterly free expression of delight. I felt a pang of longing for such unbridled joy. King David, a grown man and a king, “danced before the Lord with all his might” (2 Samuel 6:14), scorned by those concerned with propriety. Children don’t dance for an audience; they dance from an overflow. They teach us that joy is a legitimate and powerful form of worship, a spontaneous eruption of gratitude that God desires from us, not a polished performance for others.

5. The Lesson of Persistent Curiosity: The Eternal “Why?”

“Why is the sky blue?” “Why do I have to sleep?” The stream of “whys” is endless. While exhausting, it reveals a heart engaged with a world perceived as knowable and full of discovery. As adults, our curiosity about God can dim. We accept things as they are, losing the holy hunger to know Him more. Jesus said, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find” (Matthew 7:7). The persistent “why” of a child mirrors the seeker’s heart God honors. They challenge us to bring our questions back to Scripture, to pursue God with the relentless curiosity of one exploring a beloved parent’s face.

6. The Lesson of Living in the Present Tense: The Gift of Today’s Bread

The children were not anxious about tomorrow’s schedule or yesterday’s missed nap. They were fully immersed in the now—the block tower being built, the story being read. Jesus’s teaching in Matthew 6:34 is childlike in its clarity: “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Children are masters of receiving the day as it comes, finding manna in the moment. They tutor us in the spiritual discipline of presence, of receiving “today’s bread” with gratitude, trusting that the One who holds tomorrow will be there when it arrives.

7. The Lesson of Unconditional, Expressive Love

As I was leaving, the three-year-old, whom I’d just met that day, wrapped her arms around my legs in an unexpected, vice-like hug. “I love you,” she stated plainly. Her love had no prerequisites, no performance review. It was offered simply because I was present in her space. It was a stunning glimpse of 1 John 4:19: “We love because he first loved us.” A child’s love mirrors the gospel itself: initiated, unconditional, and boldly expressed. They love without calculating risk or worthiness, teaching us that love is not a scarce resource to be rationed, but a limitless gift to be given, just as we have first received it from our Father.

Leaving my friend’s house that day, the quiet of my car felt different. The echoes of laughter and little feet seemed to have rearranged something in my spirit. The Kingdom of God isn’t a complex puzzle for the theologically advanced. It is, as Jesus showed us, an open-handed reception of grace, a wide-eyed wonder at our Father’s world, and a trusting heart that finds home in His presence. These tiny teachers, in their simple, profound dailyness, hold up a mirror to the souls we are meant to have. The path to spiritual depth may not be upward, but backward—to a time when faith was a reflex, not a negotiation. Let us have the courage to become small again, to learn, and to let our souls be nourished by the timeless lessons waiting in a child’s embrace.