On Sunday, 8th February 2026, our children’s church gathered with an unusual sense of expectancy. For several weeks, I had been teaching the children about the character of God — His unconditional love, His goodness, His daily presence, and His tender care for them. We spoke about how He is not distant, not abstract, not silent — but near. Near to the brokenhearted. Near the joyful. Near to every child who whispers His name in prayer.

But on that particular Sunday, I felt led to speak to them about something deeper, the power of God.

I began at the beginning.

I told them about creation, about how the earth was formless and empty until God spoke. With His Word, light pierced darkness. With His command, oceans gathered, and mountains rose. And then, in that sacred moment described in the Book of Genesis, God did something extraordinary. He did not merely speak mankind into existence. He formed man from the dust of the ground and then breathed into his nostrils the breath of life.

That breath, I told the children, was not just oxygen filling lungs. It was the power of God poured into humanity. When God breathed into Adam, the first man became alive with divine impartation. The lifeless became living. Dust became destiny. That holy breath was God’s power instilled in His creation.

The children listened with wide eyes.

I continued, explaining that it was with that same power that God acted throughout history. It was by His mighty hand that He confronted the arrogance of Pharaoh and delivered His people from centuries of bondage in Egypt. Through His servant Moses, He parted the waters of the Red Sea so that His children could walk through on dry ground. Later, He opened the Jordan River before them and strengthened them to overcome the Canaanites so they could enter the Promised Land. Again and again in the Old Testament, God revealed that His power is not theoretical — it is active, purposeful, and redemptive.

Then I shared the greatest demonstration of that power.

With that same divine power, God sent His only begotten Son into the world. As the Gospel of John tells us, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” Through the miracle of incarnation, Jesus Christ entered human history, not merely as a teacher, but as the visible image of the invisible God. Humanity, created in God’s image yet fallen through disobedience in Eden, was reconciled through Christ.

What Adam lost through one act of rebellion, Christ restored through obedience and sacrifice.

And that same power did not end at the cross. After the resurrection, the apostles moved in extraordinary authority. Through the power of God, they healed the sick, cast out demons, and even raised the dead. The book of Acts of the Apostles records how ordinary men became vessels of extraordinary power because they walked closely with Jesus.

Then I looked at the children and said something that caused a gentle silence to fall over the room:

“That same power is available today, even for you.”

Not for pride.
Not for attention.
But for God’s glory.

I told them that when children love Jesus, when they pray sincerely, when they speak to God with whole hearts, He can instill His power in them too. Perhaps not always in dramatic ways, but in ways that transform lives. The power to forgive. The power to stand for truth. The power to show kindness in a cruel world. The power to pray with faith.

After the lesson, we did something unusual. Instead of ending inside the church, we went for a prayer walk through our city. The winter air in Karlsruhe was crisp, and the streets were quiet. Small hands were tucked into jacket sleeves, but hearts were burning with faith.

We prayed for our city — for its streets, its neighborhoods, its families. We prayed that the power of God would touch every household, that His name would be known in every home.

Eventually, we stopped in front of the Novotel Karlsruhe City. There, on the pavement, we formed a circle. The children raised their hands toward heaven.

Their prayers were simple, but heaven listens to simple prayers.

Then I asked them one question:

“If God gave you a special power, what would you like to have?”

One child said, “To move big houses!” Another said, “To fly!” Another smiled brightly and said, “To walk on water!”

How beautiful their faith was, innocent and unfiltered.

I smiled and told them that yes, God can give such powers. Nothing is impossible for Him. But often, He gives the power that is most necessary for the time and season, the power that reveals His glory in ways we may not expect.

Sometimes the greatest power is courage. Sometimes it is compassion. Sometimes it is the strength to stand alone. Sometimes it is the boldness to speak about Jesus at school or kindergarten. Power does not always have to roar louder like a lion. Sometimes it whispers through smaller actions and acts of children, such as drawing and coloring.

As we closed our time together, I felt deeply convinced of one truth: we must continually remind our children who their God is.

He is unchanging.
He is able.
He is faithful.

He is the same yesterday, today, and forever, the Alpha and the Omega.

He is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
The God of the Bible, Old and New Testament.
The One true God who loved the world so much that He gave His only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, so that through Him we may have direct access to the Father.

When we teach children about God’s powerful character, we are not merely telling stories from history. We are planting eternal truth in young hearts. We are reminding them that they are not weak, not forgotten, not insignificant.

They carry within them the breath of God. And when children understand that, they walk differently. They pray differently. They believe differently.

May we never underestimate what God can do through a child who believes. And may the power that breathed life into Adam, parted seas, raised Christ from the dead, and transformed apostles, continue to move — even through the smallest hands lifted toward heaven.

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As I reflect on that Sunday, those small hands lifted high in front of the Novotel Karlsruhe City, those innocent voices asking for power to move houses, to fly, to walk on water, I cannot help but turn the question toward us, the adults.

Children believe before they analyze. They trust before they doubt. They ask before they calculate.

But what about you?

Have you ever prayed for something special in your life, something that only God could do?

Did you pray for healing? For direction? For restoration in a broken relationship? For provision during a season of lack? For courage when fear surrounded you?

And if you did, what happened?

Did God answer you? Perhaps not in the way you expected, but did He move? Did something shift inside you? Did your situation change?
Did your heart change?

What difference did that prayer make in your life, and in the lives of others around you?

The same God who breathed life into Adam in the Book of Genesis, who parted the sea and delivered His people, who sent His Son into the world as written in the Gospel of John, and who empowered the early believers in the Acts of the Apostles, is He still, in your understanding, the most powerful God today?

Do you still believe that He performs miracles?
That He intervenes? That He strengthens the weak and lifts the humble? Or, if you are honest, has something shifted and changed?

Have world affairs, intellectual debates, disappointments, unanswered prayers, or modern worldviews slowly replaced your simple reliance on God’s grace? Has skepticism crowded out your faith? Has experience eroded your trust?

When did you last pray with the boldness of a child?

When did you last lift your hands, not physically perhaps, but spiritually, and say, “God, I believe You are able”?

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These are not questions of condemnation. They are invitations, and I want to leave you with the following challenges. 

• Do you believe God is still unchanging?
• Do you believe He is still the Alpha and the Omega?
• Do you believe His promises are still true?
• Have you personally experienced His power?
• If yes, how did it transform you?
• If not, what holds you back from asking Him today?

Perhaps the greater question is this:

If children can stand in the cold streets of a city and pray with confidence that God can change it, what would happen if you believed like that again?

I invite you to reflect, please. 

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Lastly, the conversation with God begins not with certainty, but with honesty, with openness of your heart, and in a dialectical form. 

And maybe your first miracle is simply this: that your heart dares to believe in God again. I hope you enjoyed the story and it has helped you. If you would like to share your prayer requests, leave a comment, or talk to me, feel free to subscribe to upcoming stories or write me a message.