Excerpt
Here’s what I love about kids: they’re fearless.
They ask for what they want without rehearsing disappointment. They believe the best. They trust what they’re told. If someone says, “I’m going to do this for you,” they light up and wait with joy. And it’s not until trust is broken that they start learning the hard lesson: life doesn’t always happen the way I expect it to.
One of the major things I’ve been learning in surrender is childlike faith.
I’ve been learning how to be “the daughter who believes.”
I belong to God. He is my Father. And when I think about how daughters act with their dads—how they ask, how they expect, how they trust—I realize that’s the posture I’m meant to carry with God too.
But a lot of the time, I approach God through the lens of my earthly experiences. I treat Him like an authoritarian. I freeze because I’m afraid of making a mistake. I hold back my questions. I hesitate to ask for big things. And I’m realizing that isn’t faith—that’s fear dressed up as “being careful.”
I’m learning to trust what God says about me.
I’m learning to believe what God has promised.
I’m learning to ask like a daughter again.
Reflection
Somewhere along the way, many of us trade faith for realism.
Realism says, “Only trust what you can see.”
Faith says, “Believe before you see.”
Kids understand that instinctively. Their imagination is wide open. They picture what could be possible, and they speak from that place. But so many of us were taught to shut that down—taught to “get real,” taught to be practical, taught to expect less so we won’t be disappointed.
And yet I’m realizing God’s safety is deeper than human safety. When I’m walking with Him—praying, reading His Word, listening—there is a steadiness I can’t manufacture with logic.
I’ve seen moments in my own life where faith looked “unwise” to other people, but it prepared me for what God had already arranged. I’ve also seen what felt like disappointment turn into a setup—because timing wasn’t denial, it was development.
So I’m returning to a daughter posture again.
Not striving to prove.
Not stressing to control.
Not shrinking to stay safe.
I’m learning to hand things over quickly—before peace is threatened—because peace matters to me now. I want a daily faith, not a once-in-a-while faith. A daily smile. A daily trust. A daily surrender.
And I’m learning that intimacy changes the way I relate to God—not distant, not rigid, not black-and-white, but relational… filled with love.
Prompts
Where have I replaced faith with “realism” to protect myself from disappointment?
What big thing have I stopped asking for because I can’t “see” how it could happen?
What part of my imagination got shut down, and what would it look like to let God restore it?
How would I approach God today if I truly believed I am loved and safe with Him?
Listen
Ask for something with childlike faith today—and wait with expectation.