Gospel Hope for the Littlest of These
“Do you trust Jesus with your whole heart?”
She looked uncomfortable, uncertain: “I think so?”
This was not the first time we had had this conversation, and my husband and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. My daughter, just like our other children, needed Christ to transform her life and make her his own, and we wanted her to know that salvation was personal—that salvation was for her, too.
My greatest hope for all of my children is that they will come to know and love the Lord. This hope pervades my nightly prayers and family devotionals but, too often, I feel this hope contorting into fear. Suddenly, instead of believing that my children will grow up to become firm believers, I’m afraid that they will grow up to despise the Lord. In those moments, I’m no longer trusting in faith that the gospel can change their wayward hearts but worrying that it doesn’t hold the same power for them as it does for others.
If you have children who do not yet know the Lord—whether they are too young to make their own commitment to Christ or they have rejected their faith as they’ve aged—then you too know what it’s like to live in this tension. When will the uncertainty end?
Is There Really Hope?
As Christian parents, we should do all that we can to encourage our children to trust in Christ through modeling and teaching the Word of God, but we also need to cling to the hope of the gospel and its effectiveness. Do we really believe that God’s message of salvation is effective for our kids? Oh, how we need to!
The book of Ezekiel serves as a reminder of the effectiveness of God and his message of salvation. Writing to Israelites who have rejected God again and again and turned to other gods, Ezekiel shares prophecies which convey God’s judgement against them, making clear the severe repercussions of sinning against a holy God. But throughout the book, there’s a refrain of hope that’s quieter at first but grows louder. As we read in Ezekiel 36:24–27:
For I will take you from the nations and gather you from all the countries, and will bring you into your own land. I will also sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean. I will cleanse you from all your impurities and all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. (HCSB)
Here we can see that God promises to gather up his scattered people, cleanse them of their sins and idols, give them a new heart and his Holy Spirit, and cause them to follow after the Lord. What a beautiful depiction of a transformed life that only God can accomplish!
As believing parents, we are invited into the gospel call that God makes to our children over their lifetimes. While this is a blessing and high calling, it can lead to discouragement when we don’t see the spiritual fruit as quickly or as abundantly as we’d like to in our children’s lives. However, Ezekiel 36 reminds parents that the work of salvation—the work of a life transformed from spiritual death into life—is the miraculous work of God and is worth the wait.
New Life is God’s Work
I’ve often wondered if God really knows what he’s doing with my kids and have begun to think that maybe I know better. If only I was in control, my kids would stop living for themselves and turn their hearts to God. Very quickly, my hope can turn into fear, anxiety, anger, and the desire to control. And very quickly, I’m reminded that parents cannot save their children in their own power.
In God’s vision for his people given to Ezekiel, we’re reminded that the nature of regeneration is not a simple change in character, attitude, or behavior; it is a whole-life transformation in which a person is resurrected from spiritual death to spiritual life. We’re also reminded that regeneration is a miraculous work, one that is unable to be achieved in a child or parent’s power alone. On display is a God who lovingly gathers an unclean people close to himself (Ezek. 36:24), washes away their sins with his own hands (Ezek. 36:25), replaces their dead, rebellious hearts with beating ones (Ezek. 36:26), and then unites them to himself with his very Spirit (Ezek. 36:27). By his own hand, God creates for himself a people who can dwell with him in his land—and in this land they belong to him (Ezek. 36:28).
This should bring us great encouragement! Our children’s sinful states are impossible to overcome in our efforts alone; the path to life is impossible to achieve in our efforts alone. Only God is the One who transforms (Eph. 2:8–9). When we lay aside our own desire to control God’s work of salvation, we can begin to cling to the hope of the gospel through prayer, faith, and enlightened eyes that show us that only God can bring the spiritually dead to life.
When Waiting Leads to Life
God laid before Ezekiel a beautiful depiction of a transformed spiritual life, but it would be many, many years before it came to fruition—years characterized by repentance, years characterized by backsliding, and years characterized by God’s silence. But our God, the patient parent, would eventually send his Son to finalize peace between God and man through the blood of the cross (Col. 1:20), mortifying his people’s sins, providing them with new hearts, and placing within them his Holy Spirit (Eph. 1:13), just as he had promised.
While God knew what he was doing and what was to come, from a human perspective it must have felt incredibly slow. We can imagine people crying out with the psalmist, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget [us] forever?” (Ps. 13:1). “Do you still remember the promise you gave us?” Yet, on this side of the cross, we can look back and marvel at the redemption story God crafted for his people, knowing that the waiting led to spiritual life for God’s people.
There once was a parent, much like us, who committed countless tears, prayers, and hours to sharing the gospel with her son. While the son loved his mother very much, he grew up, rejected his mother’s faith, and spent his early adult years hopping from religious heresy to religious heresy. His mother was discouraged but persistent—she continued to pray and speak God’s Word over her child but was met with years of silence. Then, just two years before she died, her son heard a voice while walking in a garden: “Take! Read!” He opened up the Scriptures and trusted Christ in that very moment.
In that moment, Augustine—yes, that Augustine—was transformed from spiritual death to spiritual life.
While we are not guaranteed that our children will accept salvation, like Augustine’s mother Monica we can hope for it earnestly while we wait. We can bring our doubts and uncertainty to the God who saves, knowing that he hears us, and cares for them more than we do. We can model God’s love to our children, pray for them, and share Scriptures with them. And we can ultimately trust in the efficacy of the gospel, knowing that the work of salvation is a miracle that God delights in.
Living in Hope Amid Uncertainty
Recently at Bible study, several older women shared their favorite thing about their parents. I heard how one woman’s parents were models of Christian parenting for their community. One lady’s father taught her about the sovereignty of God, while another remembered her mother’s love for the Lord.
As I listened, inspired, these stories stirred up the little faith I had for my own children. While some of these parents were still alive, others were no longer living. It was profound to think that these women sitting in front of me were the fruit of their parents’ spiritual labor—testaments to their parents’ relentless preaching and living out of the gospel message. While I live in the tension of wondering if my children might one day be saved, these women were living proof of God’s kindness to parents who once also longed for their children’s salvation.
In the midst of waiting, we can cling to the hope of salvation with the firm belief that God is able to save sinners. We can strengthen our faith with stories of those who became believers at different times in their lives—whether as children or adults, after years of prodigal living, at a high school retreat, or even on their deathbeds—and we can marvel at the miracle of God’s eternal work in these hearts. Like the parents who have walked before us, we can pray unceasingly for our children, knowing that God hears us, cares for us, and cares for the littlest of these.
The weight of what’s at stake—the weight of my children’s salvation—was meant to be borne by eternal shoulders, not mine. So, in the midst of my waiting and uncertainty, I’ll continue to ask my kids whether they trust in Christ. And with hope, I will believe that one day, when I ask my daughter the question she has heard many times before, she’ll respond with an emphatic and Spirit-prompted, “Yes! I now believe.”
Ashley Anthony is a pastor’s wife, mom of four, literature instructor, and seminary student. She’s a member of College Church in Wheaton, Illinois, and loves discovering how theological and scriptural truths converge with the daily lives of women. Find more of her writing on Instagram.