Learning to Trust Like a Child: My Journey Toward Childlike Faith in Papa God

Searching for the Meaning of Childlike Faith

I have often wondered what it truly means to have childlike faith. Jesus spoke of faith in ways that were both simple and challenging. He said that if we have faith as small as a mustard seed, we could move mountains (Matthew 17:20). These words sound beautiful and powerful, yet they also leave me asking an honest question: How does that kind of faith actually work in everyday life?

Faith, as I have come to understand, is not simply believing that God exists or that His Word is true. Faith is trust. It is placing ourselves into God’s hands, especially when we do not understand what is happening, when we feel afraid, or when life feels out of control. But trust does not grow easily for everyone. It is deeply shaped by our past, our wounds, and our earliest relationships.

For me, trusting God was not natural. It was learned slowly, painfully, and gently—through God’s patience and through my own children.

When the Image of God Is Distorted

Many people explain God as a Father by comparing Him to our earthly fathers. They say, “God is like a good father—He protects, provides, loves, corrects, and comforts.” While that image brings peace to some, it created confusion and distance in my heart.

I did not grow up with a strong, loving father figure. I did not experience the kind of father who made me feel safe, understood, or cherished. Because of that, when people spoke of God as Father, I struggled to connect. Instead of imagining warmth and protection, I imagined authority, rejection, and punishment.

Without realizing it, I approached God through the lens of my own experiences. I believed He was hard to please, quick to discipline, slow to forgive. When I read the Old Testament, I focused more on punishment than mercy. I feared God more than I trusted Him. I obeyed Him, but I did not rest in Him.

Calling God “Father” felt uncomfortable. Calling Him “Papa” felt impossible.

For a long time, God was not someone I ran to. He was someone I carefully approached, afraid of doing something wrong.

A Father Who Rewrites Our Understanding

Yet God is patient. He does not force intimacy. He waits, teaches, and heals. Instead of correcting me with words, He chose to teach me through life—through moments so simple and ordinary that I might have missed them if I were not paying attention.

One of those moments came through my son.

At the time, our children were still very young. Our son was about four years old. One day, we went together to a swimming pool. I do not know how to swim, yet I often took the children to the beach or pool, watching them closely from a safe place. The pool had two sections: a shallow one for children and a deeper one for adults. I was sitting in the jacuzzi, keeping an eye on the kids, while my husband was swimming in the deeper section.

Everything felt calm and normal—until I suddenly heard my son shout joyfully, “Dad, look!”

Before anyone could react, he jumped into the deep pool.

The Faith That Jumps Without Fear

Time seemed to stop. My heart froze. My husband was not close enough to catch him immediately. But what shocked me most was not the danger—it was my son’s expression.

He was smiling.

There was no hesitation in his eyes. No fear. No doubt. He jumped with complete confidence that his father would come for him. And my husband did exactly that—he reached him and lifted him out safely.

As I stood there, shaken and breathless, something deep stirred within me. The Holy Spirit gently whispered to my heart: This is what childlike faith looks like.

My son did not analyze the situation. He did not question whether his father was strong enough, attentive enough, or willing enough to save him. He trusted instinctively. His trust came from relationship, not logic.

That moment exposed something in me. I realized how cautiously I lived my faith. How often I stood at the edge, measuring the risk, calculating outcomes, waiting for guarantees. I asked myself a difficult question: Am I able to jump into the unknown, believing without doubt that God will catch me?

Faith is not only believing God can help—it is trusting that He will.

Faith Beyond the Pool: Trusting God With Life

That swimming pool moment stayed with me. It became a picture of how I live my life with God. How far am I willing to trust Him? How much control am I willing to surrender? Am I willing to leap when He calls, or do I stay where I feel safe?

I realized that my struggle with faith was not about theology—it was about relationship. I did not yet see God as a Father who delights in catching His child.

And then, God gave me another lesson—this time through pain.

A Broken Arm and an Unshakable Peace

Not long after, when our son was still in kindergarten, I received a call from his school while I was at work. During playtime, he had fallen and broken his arm. When I arrived, our daughter was crying uncontrollably. Our son was in tears too, holding his injured arm with his other hand. His arm was broken in two places.

I was shocked. Fear rushed through me. My body felt weak, and my mind raced with worst-case scenarios. But as a mother, I knew I had to stay calm—for them.

I drove him to the emergency room, praying silently the entire way. The doctor explained that surgery would be necessary to put the bones back in place. My husband arrived just before our son was taken into surgery. We held his hand and reassured him that everything would be okay, that we would be waiting right outside.

Then my son said something that I will never forget.

“I’m not afraid,” he said quietly. “Jesus is with me.”

He smiled at us—peaceful, calm, trusting—despite the pain he was in.

A Child Who Truly Believed

His words pierced my heart. He was not pretending to be brave. He truly believed what he said. Jesus was not an abstract idea to him. Jesus was present.

After the surgery, the doctor came out looking astonished. He told us that he had not needed to open the arm as planned. Our son had been so relaxed that the doctor was able to gently realign the bones without further intervention.

“I have never seen a child so calm in this kind of situation,” the doctor said.

I knew exactly why.

My son trusted Jesus the same way he trusted us. Completely. Without reservation. Without fear.

What Childlike Faith Really Is

That day, God showed me that childlike faith is not childish faith. It is not denial of pain or danger. It is confidence rooted in love.

Children trust because they feel safe. They know they are not alone. They believe someone stronger is watching over them.

How different that is from how we often live as adults. We know God’s promises, yet anxiety quickly takes over. We pray, but we worry. We believe, but we hold back.

Children rest. They trust presence more than explanations.

God Teaching Me Through Motherhood

As I reflected on these moments, I realized that God was teaching me through my role as a mother. By watching my children trust us, I began to understand how God desires us to trust Him.

My children felt secure because we were consistent, loving, and present. They knew they could count on us. And slowly, I began to understand that God is even more faithful, even more attentive, even more loving than any earthly parent.

I also became aware of how important a secure environment is in childhood. While I did not have that growing up, God did not leave me broken. Instead, He allowed me to experience healing by giving me a front-row seat to what healthy trust looks like.

Becoming a Child Again Before God

I am deeply thankful. Thankful that God entrusted me with children and used them to teach me about Him. Thankful that He redeemed what I lacked. Thankful that He patiently reshaped my understanding of who He is.

Today, I am still learning. I still struggle with fear at times. But when anxiety rises, I remember my son jumping into the water. I remember his peaceful smile before surgery. And I remind myself: My Father is watching. My Father is near. My Father will catch me.

Childlike faith is not about having all the answers.
It is about knowing who holds you.

And little by little, I am learning to trust my Papa God—to jump, to rest, and to believe that I am deeply, completely loved.