I knew them before I met them

I was eight years old the first time I met my grandmothers.

My grandfathers had already died. My grandmothers were still alive, but they were in Zimbabwe, and it was the early ’80s.

I’d never even spoken to them on the phone.

And yet somehow, I knew them.

When we finally met, they weren’t strangers. It felt like a long-overdue hug.

I’ve been thinking about that.

How could someone I’d never met feel so familiar?

My parents talked about them. They told stories. These women mattered to the people who mattered most to me.

I couldn’t have told you their birthdays or where they went to school. But I knew they had a hand in my parents’ lives. I knew they belonged to us, and we belonged to them.

By the time I met them, there was already a relationship waiting for me.

It makes me wonder what our children hear when we talk about God.

Do they hear about Someone we know?

Someone who matters to us? Someone we speak to, lean on, return to?

Or do they mostly hear things they’re supposed to remember?

There’s a temptation to measure faith by how much we can repeat. The Bible stories. The verses. The right answers.

Those things matter. But knowing the right things about someone isn’t the same as knowing them.

Knowing my grandmother’s second-grade teacher’s name wouldn’t have made that hug feel any more like home.

My parents’ relationship with her did.

And perhaps underneath all the things we’re trying to teach our children, there’s a question they need us to answer:

Who is Jesus to you?

Not just what happened long ago.

Who is He in your life now?

The woman at the well had something to tell her town because she’d met Someone. Her words brought people to Jesus. But after spending time with Him, they told her they now believed because they had heard Him for themselves. (John 4:39–42) biblehub.com

Her testimony was a bridge.

And people crossed it.

I think about Samuel, too. A boy hearing his name in the night, getting up and running to Eli because he thought Eli was calling.

Eventually, Eli recognized what was happening. He sent Samuel back to lie down and helped him respond if God called again: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” (1 Samuel 3:9) Bible Gateway

Eli helped him recognize a voice he didn’t yet know.

There’s something tender about that picture of parenting.

We have stories to tell. We have things to teach. And we get to help our children notice that God is speaking to them, is present with them, and is interested in them.

When the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, His answer began with “Father.” (Luke 11:1–2) Bible Gateway

Before they said anything else, He gave them Someone to address.

I keep coming back to that.

Who, before what.

Even an AI can repeat what it’s been trained on. It can sound remarkably convincing.

But a convincing answer can’t tell us whether there’s a relationship.

AI, Wikipedia, and the Pharisees can all know the answers to what, how, when, where, even why… but only a relationship can truly answer the question “Who?”

Sure, AI can answer the questions with a name, but that is still just a “what.” What is just the name of the WHO… knowing His name, His words, His facts, and knowing Him in such a way that He would say… and I know you. That’s the only thing that matters.

It makes me listen to my own words.

When I talk about Jesus, am I sharing Someone I know? Or am I repeating things I’ve learned to say?

I want my children to know the Scriptures. I want them to ask questions and understand what they believe.

I also want them to hear me speak about God with the familiarity I heard when my parents spoke about their mothers.

I was eight when I finally met my grandmothers.

But my parents had been introducing us for years.

Remember: Start with WHO.

What's true for kids is true for you too.

See you next Friday…