Safe Enough to Come Near

“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” — Matthew 19:14

This past Sunday afternoon, after worship, I sat in the living room to breathe for a moment. I looked outside and saw a couple of firefighters on my street playing ball with some of the neighborhood children. There were no sirens, no emergency, no one rushing anywhere. Just a ball going back and forth, children running and laughing, and firefighters taking a few minutes to play with them. Of course, I pulled out my phone and started recording. It was one of those simple moments that just made me smile.

But as I watched, I kept thinking about how joyful those children looked and, even more, how safe they seemed to feel. They were not standing back or afraid to get close. They were comfortable. They were laughing. They were simply being children. There was something beautiful about watching children feel that free in the presence of adults we often associate with protection.

Then another thought came to me. This is not every child’s experience. Not every child feels safe enough to play freely in their neighborhood. Some children do not feel safe in their own homes. And if we are going to be truthful, some children have walked through the doors of churches and have not always found the safety, welcome, and protection they should have found there.

That is when I thought about the words of Jesus: “Let the little children come to me.” I have heard and read that Scripture many times, but today I heard something different. Jesus did not simply tell the children to come. He was someone they could come to safely. Something about Jesus' presence allowed children to come near. And when others tried to keep them away, Jesus made room for them.

That made me wonder about us. What does our presence say to a child? When we say, “Let the children come,” what are we inviting them into? Do they find adults who will see them, listen to them, protect them, and make room for them? Do they find churches where they know they matter? Can they come close and simply be children?

Those firefighters probably had no idea that anyone was watching them today. They were not doing anything extraordinary. They were just being present. Yet sometimes presence is exactly what matters. For those few minutes, those children knew that they could come close, play ball, laugh, and be themselves.

Maybe that is part of what Jesus was showing us. “Let the children come” is more than an invitation. It is a responsibility. If we are going to tell children to come, then we must become the kind of people they can safely come to. Our homes, our churches, and our communities should be places where children do not have to wonder whether they are welcomed, valued, or protected.

That afternoon, I watched a simple game of ball on my street, but it left me with a much bigger question: Are we becoming the kind of people in whose presence a child knows, “I am safe here”?

Because perhaps “Let the children come” begins long before we open the doors of the church. It begins with the kind of people we choose to be when they come near.


Pray with me: God, help us to be people who welcome, protect, and make room for your children. May every child who comes near us know, “I am safe here.” Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson