Faith Like a Child

We were recently evacuated due to the Waldo Canyon fire. We had wonderful friends that took us in at 10:00 PM after we received the reverse 911 call, and they graciously housed the 8 of us (yes, they generously allowed us to bring our dog, Jed, along) for 2 days. Before we were evacuated, we watched the flames rush down the hill toward the neighborhood that lost 346 homes, and we stood on our hill and watched these homes burn and listened to small explosions.  We figured out that these explosions must've been propane tanks that belonged to gas grills, and we knew from the amount we heard that the devastation was going to be horrible.  We were fairly certain that our home would be safe due to the terrain, but after the activity on that night (fires simply don't behave the way this one behaved that night), we realized anything could happen.

About 36 hours into our evacuation, Nicholas walked up to me, looking just the tiniest bit down.  He looked at me and said "I'm kind of sad that our house burned down."  I quickly explained that our house was still  standing, gave him a hug, and he went happily on his way.

Since that day, I've been thinking about his reaction.  In his 6.5 year old mind, his house was gone.  His toys were gone, his roller skates were gone, his hamster was gone.  Everything he owned was gone.  Yet, he wasn't distraught.  He wasn't weeping (though at one point the day before he cried when he realized we didn't bring his skates--we'd had plans for going skating for Jacob's 10th birthday).  He was merely a bit sad.  

He never doubted that Craig and I would take care of him.  He never doubted that his needs (and even some of his wants) would be met.  That is faith like a child.  Do I have that much faith in my heavenly Father?

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.  (Matthew 10:29-31 ESV)