Read: Matthew 18:1-5
At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ He called a child, whom he put among them, and said, ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.
There is something sacred about the fears and hopes of a child.
A child isn’t afraid because she doubts her father’s love; she knows his strength. She isn’t hopeful because the world is always kind, but because she trusts that her father is good. Her fear is rooted in reverence; her hope, in dependence. She stands in awe of the one who protects, disciplines, and guides her.
This is the kind of fear Jesus invites us into—not the terror that comes from a broken world, but the holy, soul-deep awe of knowing that the One who holds the stars also numbers every hair on our heads.
But as we grow older, something happens. We trade wonder for calculation, trust for cynicism. Life wounds us, and in defense, we become jaded. We fear being used, left out, exposed. And somewhere along the way, we start fearing the wrong things—what people think, what might go wrong, what we might lose.
Jesus says, “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.” In other words, don’t give your deepest fear to passing threats. Give it to the One who holds eternity.
And yet—this same God, so mighty and just, is also the tender Father who sees sparrows fall and names every hair on your head. This holy fear, unlike worldly fear, doesn’t drive us away from God—it draws us near in reverent awe. It invites us back to the simplicity of a child who knows: My Father is strong. My Father is near. I am safe with Him.
To live by the Spirit is to return to childlike wonder. It’s to fear God rightly and therefore be freed from fearing everything else.
