Childlike Expectations

“Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” - Matthew 18:3

Children see the world through lenses of awe. Every twinkling light, every wrapped gift, every carol sung is a sign that something extraordinary is near. To a child, lights are not just bulbs strung across a tree or a street. They are stars brought down to earth, signs that darkness is being pushed back, reminders that joy is stronger than gloom.

Children dream without limits. They imagine surprises, delights, and wonders beyond what they’ve seen before. Their eyes sparkle with wonder, their hearts race with excitement, and their imaginations overflow with possibilities.

Music as Joy

For children, songs are not background noise—they are invitations to join in joy. A melody is not simply heard; it is felt, absorbed, and echoed back in laughter and dance. Music enters their hearts like sunlight through a window, warming and awakening something deep within. A single note can spark a smile, a chorus can ignite a room with movement, and a familiar tune can wrap them in comfort like a blanket.

Where adults may analyze lyrics or critique melodies, children respond instinctively. They clap their hands, stomp their feet, twirl in circles, and let the rhythm carry them wherever it will. To them, music is not confined to instruments or voices—it is the heartbeat of joy itself. A drumbeat becomes the sound of adventure, a gentle lullaby becomes a promise of peace, and a triumphant chorus becomes a herald of hope.

Songs, for children, are bridges. They connect the seen with the unseen, the ordinary with the extraordinary. A Christmas carol is not just a seasonal tradition—it is a doorway into mystery, a reminder that something wondrous is unfolding. Each note carries anticipation, each refrain whispers promise, and each crescendo lifts their hearts toward heaven.

Awe in the Ordinary

Where adults often pass by the ordinary without notice, children stop, stare, and marvel. A snowflake on a mitten, the glow of a candle, the sound of bells in the distance—all of these are enough to spark wonder. Their vision is uncluttered by cynicism, their hearts unburdened by the weight of “what if” or “what might go wrong.” They do not calculate risks or measure outcomes; they simply receive the moment as gift.

What we call “mundane,” children call “magical.” They remind us that the extraordinary is hidden in plain sight, waiting to be discovered if only we slow down and look. Children laugh at shadows, dance to rhythms only they hear, and find joy in the smallest surprises. A puddle becomes an ocean, a cardboard box a castle, a whisper of wind a secret message.

For them, the world is not limited to what is visible or logical—it is alive with mystery, surprise, and hope. A closed box might hold treasure. A star in the sky might lead to adventure. A story told at bedtime might come true in the morning. Their imaginations are not bound by what is probable but lifted by what is possible.

Trust Without Proof

Children trust that what is promised will arrive, even if they cannot yet see it. Where adults often demand proof, children embrace mystery. They know that unseen things—love, joy, peace—are real. They don’t question whether Christmas morning will come—they know it will. Their waiting is not filled with doubt but with certainty, not with fear but with joy. This kind of trust is simple, yet profound.

This trust is not heavy or burdensome—it is light and joyful. Children wait with laughter, with songs, with wide-eyed wonder. To trust like a child is to lean into the promise of Christmas with open hands and open hearts. It is to believe that God’s gift will arrive, not because we can see it now, but because He has promised it—and His promises never fail.

Children don’t see waiting as wasted time. For them, waiting is not empty—it is charged with hope. They can endure the long nights of December because they know the morning will bring joy. They don’t need evidence to believe. They trust the word of those they love, and that trust carries them through the darkness.

A child’s confidence rests in the reliability of love. They trust because they know they are cared for. To wait like a child is to let hope fill the silence, to let trust carry us through the darkness, and to let love assure us that the promise will be kept.

Christlike Expectations

Children wait differently than adults. Their waiting is not weighed down by anxiety or skepticism—it is buoyed by hope, trust, and love. Children believe because they are loved. The word of a parent, spoken in love, is enough.

In Christmas, God’s love assures us that His promise will be kept. The incarnation—Christ coming among us—is the ultimate proof that love fulfills what it promises. Christlike expectations look beyond what is visible. They trust that God’s unseen work is real and unfolding, even when circumstances seem uncertain.

To wait like a child is to wait with open hands and open hearts. It is to let hope, trust, and love shape our anticipation, so that when Christmas dawns, we are ready not only to celebrate Christ’s birth but to welcome His presence into our lives anew.

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Pastor Godwin, FBC Danvers