“Amen, I say to you whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter into it.” - Mark

In a few mystical minutes years ago, a butterfly and my toddler son taught me what it means to “accept the kingdom of God like a child.”

On that hot July evening, I was watching my son splashing around in his kiddie pool in our driveway when suddenly a large butterfly swooped down almost close enough for him to catch it. As it flew away, my son chased It, focusing intently on this lovely creature. He reached for it with his chubby hand, but it soared away over our heads. I surrendered to the wonder of watching the interaction of these two miracles of God’s kingdom.

Just recalling this incident evokes the sense of peace I felt that evening – a rarity during a period of life that is sort of a blur due to its nonstop demands. Most days I was just trying to keep my head above water with a never ending “to do” list at home and work.  Normally I wouldn’t have even noticed a butterfly unless it hit me in the face, let alone marveled at its grace and beauty.  But my son’s delight in it (and mine in him) slowed me down enough to pay attention to God’s natural gifts just in just my back yard. For a few minutes I gloried in “accepting the kingdom” in the same way as my toddler did so naturally.

I think this is what Jesus is telling us in today’s gospel. Accept the kingdom in all its glory with the simplicity of a child. Don’t overthink it and don’t try to control it. As Psalm 46 says, “Be still and know that I am God.” That gets harder and harder as we become adults with lots of responsibilities. We’ve got things to DO – and people depending on us to get them done.  We may even want to argue with Jesus when he tells us to accept the kingdom like a child.

Ironically a friend with dementia is teaching me many of the same lessons as my toddler son. During our weekly afternoons together, I try to find simple things to do and find myself enjoying them at her pace. Often we visit parks and marvel at the trees and flowers because my friend delights in them. We sometimes sit on park benches letting the wind blow through our hair. As her disease progresses, we talk less and so I listen more to   the God who gave us the gifts I would largely ignore on my own. Neither of us can control the awfulness of what is happening to her, but those afternoons have become a time of grace for me – a time when I experience the kingdom of God.

In the end, it’s all about  accepting the kingdom of God as a child who has not yet learned about the need to CONTROL what’s happening or as an older person who no longer can. Both are gifts in their own way. So try to carve out  just a few  minutes to absorb all that God has given us and surrender to a childlike sense of wonder.