The Kingdom Heaven Belongs to Such As These

Originally written by Sana Mitsuki, on January 31st, 2026.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon that I was scrolling on the Lumi app when the news jumped at me and tugged at my heartstrings.

A paedophile ring had been uncovered in Johor. Infants were sexually exploited. The resultant deaths. 

Worse still - some children were yet to be found.

Before my brain was able to process what I read, my thoughts went to my toddler who was sound asleep in the next room. 

Have you ever met an infant who was not happy about being held, being hugged, being kissed?

Their little hands are always reaching out to their caretaker.

Their little bodies completely dependent on us to meet their needs.

Now imagine how defenceless a child must be to trust the very hands that destroy them.

But what unsettled me most about this news was not only the crime itself, but the evidence of Telegram messages - users expressing anger at Lord Khai, the audacious name of the ringleader, that the child sexual abuse material they had requested and paid for had not been delivered.

How disgusting—the acts of small and weak men, emboldened by the anonymity of being online.

People read news like this and think the world has gone mad.

That things are getting worse.

But I am not shocked.

As a mother, as a person who has read a large portion of the Bible - and as a person who has survived child sexual abuse - I am privy to three truths about the world.

First, the world has always been this bad.

Second, the world is so bad that Jesus Christ had to receive, on humanity’s behalf, a punishment so severe that it transformed His sinless face into something unrecognisable—bearing the monstrosity of the very people He died for.

And third, young children are painfully easy to exploit.

Human beings are remarkably skilled at exploiting those weaker than them for selfish ends. It is our default setting. From the very first moments of humanity, mankind had no qualms about exploiting weakness (“Eat this apple,” a lovely wife tells her doting husband) and putting oneself first (“She gave me the apple,” says the husband of his wife). The evil of mankind is not red, horned, and cackling. Our evil hides in ordinary spaces, speaks in ordinary language, and feeds on vulnerability without hesitation. Evil rarely reveals itself among the human when it is evil we seek. It reveals itself when the vulnerable become our focus.

The Lord saw how great the wickedness of the human race had become on the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time. - Genesis 6:5 NIV

As a person who tries her very best to be perceived as good, to be a champion of the weak, to be a preserver of justice - it is devastatingly easy for me to return to my default and esteem myself higher than those I have called to care for. To place my convenience above another’s dignity. It is by the power of the Holy Spirit alone that I am restrained from my own ego.

For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing. - Romans 7:19 NIV

When I read stories of unspeakable abuse - especially of children too young to defend themselves - I am not shocked that evil exists. What unsettles me more is this: even those who try not to be evil can become evil, given the right cocktail of environment, pressure, and unchecked desire.

That is why, when I read Paul’s words in Romans about humanity groaning as in the pains of childbirth, this is the cry I hear beneath them: When will we ever be free of the shackles of evil - especially our own? Not merely the evil “out there,” but the one that lives disturbingly close to home.

And so, when I read news filled with filth, Jesus’ return can feel unbearably far away. Perhaps, in human terms, it is far away. And it is here - between the groaning and the waiting - that Christians like you and I begin to wonder: Should I stop reading the news? But like the first drop of rain piercing the stillness of humid air and dark clouds, the Holy Spirit reminds me that the call is not to stop reading the news, but to allow my perspective to be reshaped as I read it.

Many years ago, in a Bible study discussion, an elderly lady shared that her only reprieve after miscarrying many babies was Jesus’ command to His disciples not to stop little children from coming to Him:

“Let the little children come to me… for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” - Matthew 19:14

At the time, I remember being struck not by explanation, but by permission - permission to hope where answers were absent, and to entrust what could not be held to Christ Himself.

Now, when I read of the horrors inflicted upon little children, I am not exactly comforted by this verse. But I do breathe a little easier. I find myself praying that earthly death, cruel as it is, would come swiftly enough for heaven to appear for them - or that Christ’s relentless knocking would reach their ears when they are finally old enough to understand. Not because suffering is justified, but because I cling to the belief that it does not get the final word.

But staying hopeful is hard, even for the most faithful Christian. And God knows this. That is why He gave us these very words - not to inflame our anger, but to steady our faith: 

“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea." - Matthew 18:6 NIV

A time will come when those who abuse children - who drag them into darkness and refuse repentance until their final breath - will face judgment. A millstone will drag them under, their cries swallowed as they disappear into nothingness.

And the children who never stood a chance -the shores of heaven will be waiting for them.

Sunlight will fall gently upon their faces. A cool breeze will ease their weary necks.

Their small feet will make soft, joyful patters upon wet sand, unhindered at last.