There's something profound about watching a child navigate the world with complete trust and wonder. As I've observed my 10 month old daughter grow and explore, I've been struck by how her natural responses to life reveal timeless spiritual truths that we, as adults, often forget or complicate.

This 5-day devotional invites you into the sacred space where parenting meets faith, where the ordinary moments of caring for a little one become extraordinary lessons about trusting our Heavenly Father. Through the lens of my daughter's innocent wisdom, we'll explore five foundational aspects of spiritual growth: letting go, embracing slow progress, honoring our emotions, depending on God's care, and finding peace in dark seasons.

Each day includes a personal story reflection, relevant scriptures, practical steps for application, and a closing prayer. You'll discover that some of our greatest teachers come in the smallest packages, and that the path to spiritual maturity might actually require us to become more childlike, not less.

Whether you're navigating uncertainty, feeling stuck in your growth, or simply longing for a fresh perspective on faith, these reflections will remind you that God's love for you mirrors the tender care of a parent for their child – unconditional, patient, and always present.

A few days ago, my 10 month old daughter had a firm grip on my beard. Although I gently pulled her fingers apart to avoid her hurting herself or scratching me with her sharp fingers, she cried – not realizing I was protecting her. Sometimes we cling to our jobs, routines, or future plans the same way – tightly and fearfully. I remember how I didn't want to let go of a particular job that felt like a perfect fit, only to watch it slip through my fingers. I was frustrated, confused – and a little heartbroken. But just like I was trying to protect my child, God was protecting me from something I couldn't see yet or was willing to understand.

What amazed me most was how quickly my daughter forgot about the beard once it was gone. Within minutes, she was reaching for something else, trusting that whatever came next would be just as interesting. There was no lingering resentment, no dwelling on what she'd lost. Her natural instinct was to remain open to new possibilities. I realized that my adult tendency to replay losses and mourn missed opportunities was actually stealing my joy and blocking me from seeing the new doors God was opening.

Looking back now, I can see how that lost job opportunity led me to something even better – a path I never would have considered if I'd gotten what I originally wanted. My daughter's innocent trust in the process of letting go became a powerful reminder that sometimes our tightest grip is on the very thing that's keeping us from our breakthrough. The art of releasing isn't about giving up hope; it's about making room for God's better plan to unfold.

Scriptures:

• Proverbs 3:5 (NIV): Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.

• Isaiah 55:8-9 (NIV): 8 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. 9 As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Reflection & Practical Step: What are you holding tightly today—maybe fear, control, unmet expectations, or a dream you’re scared to lose? Write it down. Name it honestly. Then, in prayer, open your hands – literally or in your heart—and release it to God. Trust that He can carry it far better than you ever could.

Prayer: Father, I don’t always understand why things are taken away from me. In those moments of confusion and loss, help me trust You like a child trusts their parents – knowing that You only take away what’s necessary so You can give me what’s best. Strengthen my faith to rest in Your loving plan, even when I can’t see the whole picture. Amen.

Before my daughter walked (at 10 months – no be small thing oh), she crawled everywhere – bumping into tables, falling, crying, trying again. No shame. Just determination. I used to cheer every time she got up again, even when she fell more than she moved forward. That reminded me that God isn't measuring how fast I get somewhere – He's cheering me on just for trying. When I lost my confidence after being passed over for a role, I had to remind myself that crawling seasons count, too.

During the trying period, what struck me most was my daughter's complete lack of comparison. She never looked at her older siblings – who were already walking and felt inadequate about her crawling. She didn't apologize for crawling or make excuses for her current stage. Every day, she simply showed up and did what she could with where she was. It made me realize how much energy I waste comparing my chapter 3 to someone else's chapter 20, instead of celebrating the progress I'm making from my own starting point.

I started keeping a small wins journal after watching her persistence. Each day, I wrote down one tiny step forward – whether it was sending one email, having one difficult conversation, or simply choosing hope over fear for five minutes longer than the day before. These seemingly insignificant moments began to add up, creating a momentum I couldn't see when I was focused only on the destination. My daughter's crawling phase taught me that progress isn't always linear, but it's always meaningful when we trust the process.

Scriptures:

• Zechariah 4:10 (NLT): 10 Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand.

• Psalm 37:23-24 (NIV): The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand.

Reflection & Practical Step: What is one small step you could take today toward growth – whether it’s exploring a new career path, applying for a job, or simply updating your résumé? Even if you don’t feel ready, take that step with courage, not perfection. God honors movement, even when it’s slow. Trust that He’s walking with you, one step at a time.

Prayer: God, thank You for the small beginnings unfolding in my life. Even when progress feels slow, remind me that You delight in every baby step I take. Help me not to rush through this season or despise its pace, but to trust that You are building something beautiful – one moment at a time. Strengthen my faith to walk forward with You, day by day. Amen.

My 10 month old daughter cried. Loudly. Often. And without shame. She doesn't announce when she’s ready to cry nor does she say sorry for crying. She just cries – because that's how she communicates her needs. Watching her helped me realize how often I apologize for my emotions – especially when I feel overwhelmed by uncertainty or fear. But God never asked me to hide how I feel; He just asks me to come to Him honestly. Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is cry and let God hold you.

I noticed something beautiful about how our two oldest kids respond to their sister’s tears. Neither of them ever tells her to get over it or think positive thoughts. Instead, one of them typically moves toward her with comfort and care – hugging her to make sure that she’s okay. Her vulnerability doesn't push me or her siblings away – it draws them closer. This revelation challenged everything I believed about emotional strength. I had learned to equate maturity with emotional control, but watching my daughter taught me that true strength might actually be the courage to feel deeply and express authentically.

I’ve learned that sometimes my daughter’s tears weren't a sign of failure – they were a language of trust, a way of saying, I need help, and I believe you my daddy, my mommy and sisters care enough to comfort me. Hiding our pain doesn't protect anyone; it only prevents the healing that comes through authentic connection and divine comfort.

Scriptures:

• Psalm 56:8 (NLT):You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.

• Hebrews 4:15-16 (NIV): 15 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. 16 Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

Reflection & Practical Step: Take a few minutes today to journal before God. Don’t hold back – pour out your fears, your disappointments, your anger, and your confusion on paper. He’s not afraid of your feelings; He welcomes your honesty. As you write, imagine placing each burden in His hands, trusting that He understands and cares deeply. Let this be a sacred space where healing begins.

Prayer: Jesus, thank You that I can come to You with everything – every emotion, every burden, every tear. Let me cry without shame, knowing You understand it all. Meet me in my weakness with Your comfort, and wrap me in the peace that only You can give. I rest in the safety of Your presence. Amen.

My daughter doesn't earn her meals. She doesn't wake up stressed about bills. She simply depends – for milk, comfort, love, and sleep. She often wakes up and raises her arms up to me without saying a word, just knowing I'd lift her. The lesson reminds me that God doesn't ask me to earn His help – He asks me to lean on Him.

What amazes me is how completely she rests between feedings. There's no anxiety about whether the next meal will come, no contingency planning or hoarding. She lives fully in each moment, trusting that her needs will be met when the time comes. Watching her sleep so peacefully made me realize how much mental energy I spend managing fears about tomorrow's provision instead of receiving today's grace. Her natural rhythm of need, provision, and rest became a template for how I wanted to approach my relationship with God.

I started practicing what I called baby faith during my most anxious moments. Instead of trying to figure everything out, I would literally lift my hands toward heaven – just like she does with me – and whisper, Daddy, I need You. The simple physical act of reaching up shifted something in my spirit. It reminded my body and soul that I am held, that dependence isn't weakness but wisdom, and that my Heavenly Father's arms are always ready to lift me when I'm too tired to carry myself.

Scriptures:

• Matthew 6:26 (NIV): 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 

• Psalm 23:1 (NIV): The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

Reflection & Practical Step: Pause for a moment. Breathe deeply, and let these words rise from your soul: 'God, I trust You to care for me today.' As you exhale, release the weight you've been carrying, and lean fully into His rest. Let this be your rhythm – trusting, breathing, and resting in His faithfulness.

Prayer: Abba Father, teach me to depend on You the way a baby leans fully on their parents – without worry, without fear. Remind me daily that You are my provider, my protector, and the One who watches over me with constant love. When I feel anxious or unsure, draw me close and calm my heart. I choose to rest in Your arms today. Amen.

Sometimes my daughter wakes up crying at 2am, when it’s pitch black. She's scared. But as soon as I pick her up, she settles. She doesn't need the room to light up – she just needs my presence. I've had nights like that too – wide awake, heart racing, wondering if everything will fall apart. But when I let God hold me in those quiet, dark moments, I feel the peace I can't explain. He doesn't always explain the dark, but He always shows up in it.

Part of what amazes me most is how quickly my daughter falls asleep in my arms, even while the darkness remains. She doesn't demand that I turn on every light in the house or explain why nighttime exists. My presence is enough to transform her fear into peace, the unknown into the familiar. This taught me that faith isn't about having all the answers or eliminating every uncertainty – it's about knowing who holds you when nothing else makes sense. Some of my deepest spiritual growth has happened not when life got brighter, but when I learned to rest in God's arms while the questions remained.

I've started to see those 2am moments differently now – both hers and mine. They're not interruptions to peace; they're invitations to deeper intimacy. In the vulnerability of darkness, pretense falls away, and what remains is pure need meeting perfect love. My daughter doesn't try to comfort herself before calling for me; she immediately reaches for the relationship that brings security. Her midnight tears have become my prayer school, teaching me that it's okay to wake God up with my fears, and that His response will always be to draw me closer, not to lecture me about having more faith.

Scriptures:

• Isaiah 41:10 (NIV): So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

• Romans 8:38-39 (NIV): 38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[a] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Reflection & Practical Step: Tonight, before you sleep, take a quiet moment to reflect on how God has been carrying you – even in the midst of uncertainty. Let His peace settle over your heart. Release every concern from this season into His capable hands, and trust that He is already at work on your behalf.

Prayer: Lord, thank You that Your love surrounds me—steady and sure—whether in job loss, fear, or moments of deep doubt. When the night feels long and uncertain, be the arms that comfort me and the whisper that reminds me I’m not alone. Teach me to trust Your presence more than I fear what’s ahead. I place my future in Your hands, knowing You are already there. Amen.

Conclusion

As these five days of reflection come to a close, I hope you've discovered what I continue to learn daily: that spiritual maturity isn't about outgrowing our need for God, but about growing deeper into it. My daughter has been an unexpected but profound teacher, showing me that the qualities we often associate with immaturity – dependence, emotional vulnerability, trust in the face of uncertainty – are actually the very attributes that draw us closer to our Heavenly Father.

The invitation to become like little children that Jesus extended isn't a call to naivety or irresponsibility. It's an invitation to approach life with the wonder, trust, and complete dependence that my daughter models every day. She doesn't question her worth, doesn't earn her place at the table, and doesn't carry tomorrow's worries into today's moments. She simply receives love, expresses need, and trusts that care will come.

Perhaps the most beautiful truth I've discovered through watching her is this: God's love for us isn't conditional on our spiritual performance or emotional maturity. Just as I don't love my daughter less when she cries, stumbles, or needs help, our Heavenly Father's affection for us remains constant through every season of growth, struggle, and discovery.

As you continue your own journey of faith, may you carry with you the simple wisdom of a child's trust. May you release what you cannot control, celebrate small progress, honor your emotions, rest in divine provision, and find peace in knowing you are held – even in the dark.

The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these. And such as you.