At the dinner table the other day, he was asking
questions about how Jesus could be everywhere
and how Jesus could be God's Son - you know: the
kind of question we try to answer and realize that
even adult minds can't fathom the depth of these
concepts. Maybe that's the trouble. Maybe we try
to understand with the "wisdom" of our adult
minds. Never mind that the Bible tells us to "lean
not to your own understanding," to come as a little
child, and that our minds are not able to conceive
His thoughts. So, we plunge right on in and talk
ourselves into a hole deep enough that even we
can't see our way out of...and then the child solves
the whole problem for us with his simple faith and
acceptance.
In the middle of my struggle, Chase says, "I know
God is like an egg."
"What do you mean?" I ask. (I've used this analogy
before, but what does Chase know about it?)
"Well, there's three parts to an egg. The yellow part
inside is really squishy, and the other part in there,
and the white part outside is really, really hard. So,
an egg has three parts, and God does, too. There's
three parts to God!" Chase holds up three fingers
with a grin that says this makes perfect sense to
him.
"Where did you hear that?" I asked in surprise.
"YOU told me!"
Chase loves super heroes, so this idea that God can
be everywhere is very intriguing to him. It comes
up often in conversations.
"But how can Jesus be everywhere if we can't see
him?"
I use the air as an analogy (I should do really well
on the Miller's Analogy Test after these weeks with
Chase) to show how God's Spirit can be everywhere
and not be seen. We can't see the air, but we can
feel the wind, we can see the leaves moving as the
air blows them, we can breathe it in and blow it
out, and we can feel it if we swish our hands back
and forth through it. We can't see it, but we can
tell it's really there.
Two days later, Chase sneezes, then grins and says,
"I just sneezed on Jesus."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"You said He is everywhere like the air."
We are lying in his bed after singing some "Jesus"
songs. He says, "I love Jesus, too."
I told him that when I was a little girl, I used to
pretend that Jesus was my friend and came to my
house and went everywhere with me. I would sit
next to an empty chair and pretend Jesus was
sitting next to me.
"Why did you do that?," Chase asked. "You didn't
have to pretend. Jesus really is everywhere you go,
and He really is your friend."
The topic of Jesus dying on the cross always comes
up, and it's so hard to explain to a child. Who
killed him and why? Why did He have to die?
What does it mean that He died for us? What does
it mean that He paid for our sins? What are sins?
When you want a child to love the Bible and grow
to love the Lord, it's a difficult and somewhat
scary thing to explain. But how do you separate
Jesus from that one event when that's the reason
He came to earth? So, it comes up, and you try to
explain it as delicately as you can.
We are playing the game "Apples to Apples" in
which you choose the card in your hand that best
represents the idea on the judge's card. In this
round, the judge's card is "dangerous." Chase has 5
cards in his hand, and I'm helping him decide
which one is the best example of dangerous. It's
between 2 cards: "pounding nails" and "lightning".
Chase says pounding nails is dangerous, and I
agree, but I point out lightning and tell him that it
can start fires or even kill a person. I say I think
that is more dangerous than pounding nails.
"But," Chase says indignantly, stretching his arms
out from his sides with his palms facing forward,
"the Bible says they pounded nails in Jesus' hands,
and he DIED, and THAT'S dangerous!"
Chase won that round.
One night we read a book about going to the
doctor, and it showed simple illustrations of the
different organ systems in the body. We talked
about how we breathe air into our lungs and how
the heart pumps blood all over our bodies so that
all the different parts of the body can get oxygen.
I pointed out on his chest where his lungs and
heart are.
I have also told Chase that he has a special place
in my heart that no one else has, that he is the
only one who can fill it.
A couple of nights ago after reading three books
and singing several songs, Chase said, "I love
you so much," and hugged me. That was enough.
He could have stopped right there, and I would
have basked in the light of that simple gesture
for days, but he had more to say. He sat up with
a very serious face.
"Gramma Debbie, if you get killed, all the blood
will go out of my heart. If you die, this side
(pointing to one side of his chest) will be empty,
and this side will be full, and my heart won't be
full anymore, and I'll miss you really bad."
Then he put his head down on my chest and
snuggled close and hugged me, and I held him
close, not daring to move or say a word or even
breathe, because I was afraid the dam would
break. The tears streaming down my face and
the huge lump in my throat told me there was
already a crack in the wall.
How many people go through their entire lives
without ever being loved like this?
Go get a tissue. That's all I've got for now.
