I’m happy to announce we are raising little theologians.
We probably shouldn’t be surprised, since Lizard is an ordained pastor and we’ve spent the last four years at a Christian college, but we learned tonight living a faith is a bit different from explaining it to a precocious five-year-old.
It all started with church this morning. We sang the hymn, “Oh, How I Love Jesus.” It was so sweet and simple and reminded me of the church of my childhood, which was all hymns, a piano and an organ. No drums, no smoke machines, no electric guitar. (How did we ever survive?)
The chorus is so simple and repetitive that by the end of the song Uno and Dos had picked it up and have spent the rest of the day singing it to themselves, to each other, and to the dogs.
Except they’ve got the words wrong. Their versions are funny, off tune, and I don’t remember them clearly enough to repeat it word for word… but they’re childishly cute.
The misspoken lyrics caused a dispute at bedtime when they were both accusing the other of getting the words wrong. I had to gently let them know they were actually both singing the wrong words.
That morphed into a conversation about why everyone doesn’t believe in Jesus.
Then Dos said she wanted to ask Mary into her heart. I explain that Mary was a special gal but not someone she wanted to ask to live in her heart.
“Oh, no! We will ONLY ask Jesus to live in our heart. Because that’s who belongs there!… Mommy, some people don’t ask Jesus into their hearts, right?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Uno, I don’t have an answer for that. Different people make different choices… but we can pray for them and make sure we’re living our lives the way God would want us to, with joy and being truthful and loving others.”
“But, Mommy! If people don’t ask Jesus in their hearts, I bet they ask kitty-cats to live in their heart! Or TRASH CANS!”
Not sure what church she’s been going to. Don’t know why trash cans are even on the list of options for things to ask to live in you heart.