Maybe toddlers are the wisest of us all

In praise of the tantrum-throwing, pillow-flinging, joy-spinning philosophers among us.

Toddlers laugh 600 times a day. Six hundred! Meanwhile, we grown-ups average… four. Somewhere between naptime and mortgage payments, we traded belly laughs for burdens. But what if we let toddlers teach us the way back?

When my grandsons arrive at my house, their only goal is laughter. They launch into wild games of chase through the kitchen. They throw pillows off my bed, leap into them like stunt doubles, and beg for endless turns of the “flying game.” Their laughter? Uproarious—full belly chortles with their heads thrown back like they’re trying to swallow the sun.

And when they crash shoulders or bump knees? They cry for a moment, shrug it off, and come back for more.

Toddlers are unapologetically silly. They mix up toys like improv artists: a fireman saves the princess, a banana blocks a train, mice take over the school bus. On walks, they chat with every passing cat, dog, and squirrel. They insist on visiting the house with the giant inflatables and can spend fifteen minutes examining the rocks in my neighbor’s xeriscaped yard. Their world is a wonderland—and they know it.

These tiny humans, fresh from heaven, choose joy. They don’t worry about looking foolish or getting it wrong. They feel things deeply, bounce back quickly, and laugh as easily as they breathe.

True, they’re also the ones who burst into tears if you give them the wrong-colored cup or throw themselves to the floor when their brother grabs the favorite toy car.

I often hold two-year-old Lars and reassure him: I’ll always make sure you get chocolate milk. I’ll always have toys for you. We’ll always have room for you in the wagon. We can play your favorite game.

And I wonder—how often do our complaints to God resemble those toddler tears over the wrong cup? I wanted this job! This opportunity! He’s taking something that’s mine!

But if we listen closely, we might hear God whispering back:
There’s more than enough. I haven’t forgotten you. I have good plans for you.

These little ones don’t stay stuck in frustration. They move on. They trust. They return to joy.

And maybe that’s the secret for us too: take yourself less seriously, trust more, and laugh like it’s your job.

Let’s follow the toddlers. Let’s be silly. Let’s assume there’s enough. Let’s stare at pink clouds, spin until we’re dizzy, and laugh like we did before we knew what stress was.

Because if God cares about chocolate milk and favorite toys, He surely cares about your weary heart.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7).