Writers 
How pleasant it is to be a child.
There was something beautiful about the way we smiled as children. Our smiles were genuine, our laughter came easily, and most of the time, we didn't need much to be happy. A little game, a friend to play with, or simply having someone around was enough.
Children are, in many ways, a definition of love.
You could hurt a child, correct them, or even make them cry, and yet, after a while, they could still stretch their arms toward you to carry them. They don't always hold on to yesterday's pain. They cry, they get angry, and then somehow, they move on.
Look at children who grow up together. Their parents may be at loggerheads, but the children can still be found playing together, laughing together, and loving each other. They don't always understand the disagreement between the adults. They simply know, “That's my brother.” “That's my sister.” And that is enough.
They fight this minute, and the next minute, they are holding hands again.
No long silence. No silent treatment. No replaying the argument over and over in their minds. No keeping a list of everything the other person has ever done wrong.
Somewhere along the way, we grow up and learn to do these things.
We learn to protect ourselves. We become more cautious about trusting people. We remember the words that hurt us and the people who disappointed us. Sometimes, we carry those experiences for years until they become walls around our hearts.
And perhaps that is one of the saddest things about growing up.
We gain knowledge, experience, and wisdom, but sometimes we lose the simplicity with which we once loved.
If only we could remember how we loved as children, perhaps we wouldn't carry so much hurt.
Perhaps we would forgive a little quicker. Perhaps we would stop keeping records of every wrong. Perhaps we would allow ourselves to love people without constantly expecting them to hurt us.
We don't have to forget what happened to us or pretend that pain never existed. There is wisdom in boundaries and discernment. But healing can teach us that protecting our hearts doesn't have to mean closing them completely. We can learn from the past without allowing it to become the language through which we love everyone we meet for the rest of our lives.
No wonder Jesus said:
“Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 18:3
Maybe Jesus wasn't telling us to become childish. Maybe He was pointing us back to the qualities we often lose as we grow: humility, trust, openness, forgiveness, and a heart that isn't weighed down by resentment.
Maybe becoming like a child means learning to love again without keeping score.
Maybe, beneath all the things life has taught us, there is still that child within us who knows how to laugh freely, forgive quickly, hold someone's hand again, and simply love.
And perhaps that is the heart God wants us to find again.