to have a child's heart

As we were driving the other day, B shouted out from the back of the van, "There's Daddy!"  I followed her pointing finger to a beautiful, shiny Lexus.  The only thing slightly similar to the 1997 Toyota Camry that Daddy drives (a car I purchased as a new college grad) was the color.  I giggled and told her that wasn't Daddy's car, but by then, all the kids were excited and shouting "Daddy! Daddy!" in unison.

I just love children and the way they think!  They don't care whatsoever what kind of car or van we drive, they just know that the man they thought was driving that car loved them, noticed them, and affirmed them.  He spent time with them, made them feel valuable and purposeful in the world.

There is no point in trying to impress kids with nice things or to fake a good impression.  They know genuine love; they know when they are cherished.  How do we lose part of this as adults?  How desperately I want to remember the heart of a child, for when I am loved and cherished by the most high King, I have all that I need.