Little Hands, Big Lessons: Teaching Each Other

Living with a toddler is like chasing a tiny squirrel who's faster, sneakier, and somehow gains access to every forbidden zone in the house. We’ve rescued shoes in the washing machine, pulled the remote and car keys from the freezer before they turned into a popsicle, and fished some pantry items out of the trash—while others have been left to drown in food scraps. And the toilet? Let’s just say latex gloves are now purchased in bulk. As of this writing, multiple household objects remain MIA. In our home, cabinet and door childproof locks aren’t optional—they’re tactical defense equipment.

He’s also a budding electrician, which required me to install full-coverage outlet protectors. This prevents him from “improving” our electrical system by swapping out plugs with any object that might fit into the sockets. Unfortunately, those childproof devices tend to slow the adults down too—usually at the most inconvenient, hurry-up moments.

And then there are the fingerprints—approximately twenty-four inches above the ground—decorating cabinets, windows, appliances… basically every smooth surface in the house. Our home isn’t just lived in; it’s toddler-blessed.

And who would have guessed that his favorite building blocks aren’t the expensive, colorful sets we proudly bought? No, when he observes paper towel rolls, toilet paper tubes, bottled water, and canned goods, he sees castles!

It’s also become abundantly clear that the rules for raising children have changed dramatically since we raised our daughters. Apparently the classic, time-honored parental response, “Because I said so,” is now frowned upon.

According to the carefully researched parenting practices our daughter follows, it’s a miracle our girls survived—much less flourished—despite our dark-ages parenting. Or maybe they thrived in spite of our methods… or maybe even because of them. The only thing I know for sure is that a little bit of spite was definitely involved. And I’m confident our grandson will turn out wonderfully too. If not, well, it will certainly be Pop Pop and Lala’s fault.

As chaotic as life with a toddler can be, here’s the thing: all those fingerprints, scattered toys, and missing shoes fade from importance the moment he plants a surprise kiss on my cheek or stomps his little feet while squealing, “Lala! Lala! Lala!” That pure, unreserved delight is more than cute—it’s a living picture of how God invites us to come to Him: openly, joyfully, wholeheartedly, like little children.

The Psalmist wrote:

“O Lord, our Lord, your greatness is seen in all the world! Your praise reaches up to the heavens; it is sung by children and babies. You are safe and secure from all your enemies; you stop anyone who opposes you.”— Psalm 8:1–2 (GNT)

My adult mind is full of “foes”—doubts, worries about the future, the fear of lifting my hands in worship. What will others think? But my grandson expresses himself with complete freedom, releasing pure joy without hesitation. Scripture teaches that this sort of praise—simple, sincere, childlike—has the power to silence the enemy. And that includes the inner critic, the cynic, and the anxious whisper that tries to drown out truth.

If our hearts, weary from the daily scavenger hunt of life, would overflow with that same unreserved delight when we come before Jesus, imagine the depth and beauty of the relationship we’d experience. In that simple, innocent posture, the noise of heaven becomes louder—and the noise of our worries grows quiet.

May God fill your heart with His perfect love and the unfiltered, wholehearted joy of a child.

Blessings,

Angela

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Angela L. Gold is an encourager who shares the love of Christ in her writing. She is the author of The Lion Within and Kill Shot.