B's Saviour

Yesterday evening after tea, as the winter sun reluctantly said goodnight, B read out The Toddlers Bible Easter Book (by V. Gilbert Beers) to me and E as we all snuggled in his cosy bedroom.

As he read and pointed out the pictures, I was amazed and thankful at how much he already knew about what Jesus went through during Holy Week:

B: Look, Nanay. That's Jesus riding a donkey on Palm Sunday! When do we get to wave palms at Jesus, too?

Me: Why, this coming Sunday in Church! Isn't that exciting? But we just get little-bitty cross-shaped palms over here, not like the nice swishy ones we had in the Philippines.

B: When we go to visit the Philippines, can we have a swishy palm to wave to Jesus?

Me: Of course, B! Each of us will have a swishy palm on Palm Sunday! You know when I miss home the most? It's during Holy Week... Someday, we will be able to have Holy Week in the Philippines again.

B: Okay... (then moving on to the next story) Jesus had a special supper with His friends here... Nanay, Jesus says here, "Remember Me, Remember how I will die for you.." (Then he paused, thinking.) Is He talking to them or to us?

Me: To us, B, to all of us. He wants us to remember Him, and that's what we do when we go to Communion in church, when you cross your arms over your chest and stand in the queue, even if the priest isn't allowed to give you the host yet.

B: And Jesus is IN the bread, right, Nanay. And someday I will also get to eat Jesus Bread, too!

Me: That's right, B, next year you'll be eating Jesus Bread, too.

Then B read us several more stories, until we finally got to the part where Jesus dies on the Cross... This was a tricky part, a part he almost always skipped because the images and descriptions of Jesus dying and suffering on the Cross made him feel sad and upset... He always avoided looking at the nails or talking about Jesus' wounds... So this time, I watched him closely, curious about whether he would skip or read on.

To my surprise, B read on.

B: See here, Nanay. Jesus is wearing a crown of thorns, it's not a real crown, and it's painful... It says here, "Jesus wants to help us live with God in heaven. When we sin, we can't go there. But Jesus died to take away our sin. He wants to be our Saviour. He will if we ask. Will you ask Him?"

At this point, B stopped and appeared to be considering the question. And I suddenly felt the Spirit gently nudging me to give my son a gentle nudge, as well. So I did.

Me: B, do you want to ask Jesus to be your Saviour?

B: Yes... (And without waiting for me to say anything more, he immediately turned to talk to Jesus right there, as any child would.) Jesus, will You please be my Saviour? (Then he paused a bit, looking up at the ceiling.) Thank You, Jesus. Amen.

In my heart, I rejoiced! At age 6, B's simple prayer might not technically be considered a turning point, a dramatic "conversion experience" but I am certain, deep in my heart of hearts, that the Lord HAS heard B's prayer, and that He was pleased with it, and will honour it and remember it. I'm sure that B's whole heart was in that prayer, and I simply know that Jesus saw into B's soul like no one else can, and just loved him, loved him, loved him. I felt my tears welling up and pricking my eyes, but somehow I managed to keep them from falling until after I tucked him in and kissed him goodnight.

Oh, B, last night, on the 30th of March 2007, whether you knew it or not, you gave your life for the first time to Jesus. And whether or not you understood everything your prayer means, I'm sure Jesus will teach you, day by day, as you grow in His love. He heard you, He saw what was in your young heart, and He will be your Saviour from now on.

One of my favourite saints, St. Therese of Lisieux, once said that "prayer is an aspiration of the heart, a simple glance directed to heaven..." and that "like a child... [she says] very simply to God what [she wishes] to say, without composing beautiful sentences, and He always understands [her]." This is what you did last night, B, you sent a simple, childlike glance of love towards heaven, and you asked Jesus in the simplest words possible that He be your Saviour. And I believe, and I know, that Jesus heard your perfect, beautiful prayer last night.

Jesus heard my prayer, too, when I was just 14, and although I was still very young then, my prayer mattered to Him, too. He met me where I was, and brought me to where I am now, starting with and because of that prayer. I just know in my gut that He will do the same with you. Jesus is YOUR Saviour now, B, simply because you asked Him.

And I commit myself to you and your brother E, to be your guide and your companion as you discover Jesus' love, to be as good a witness as I humanly can be, to help you nurture the intimate relationship you're already starting to have with the Lord. As your mother, I can do no greater thing than to bring you and E to Jesus. More than just caring for your needs or teaching you to be clever in school, your Tatay and I are called to be your first links to God, your first evangelizers, your first experience of Church on earth. When you get older, it won't matter to us if you become rich, successful, famous or accomplished in the eyes of men. What will matter to us is if Jesus is still in your heart, if you love Him and if you are trying your best to love as He loves. And in the end, that is all that really matters.

What you did last night will stay with me for the rest of my life, B. You are such an inspiration to me. You are teaching me how it is to please the Lord, with childlike simplicity and a readiness to embrace what Jesus gives, no questions asked, no ifs or buts, no fancy words or fireworks. It gives me hope in my own walk with the Lord. Believe it or not, at your tender age, B, you are a shining example to me. My own little saint-in-the-making.

How wonderful it is that Jesus loves us all, and wants to be our Saviour, whether we are six or sixty-four.