Sitting around eating PB and J tonight, because T got back from Karate at 5.15 and needed to be out the door again for little league by 5.40, C munches on an apple slice and asks quite nonchalantly,
“Is Jesus everywhere?”
C. Dude. We didn’t even pray over this meal. We’ve got 35 minutes, 15 of which we squandered making silly faces at the baby, this question, this is heavy. This is not dinner conversation, this is dinner itself.
I replied yes, because isn’t he? If God is Jesus is Holy Spirit is Jesus is God and God is everywhere, then isn’t Jesus everywhere too? I guess that’s not the four year old answer, because T immediately clarified for his brother.
“God is everywhere C. Jesus is in heaven, which is like way, way up there, like way outside space.” He looks at me knowingly. “I kinda just made that up about heaven being outside space, it’s way up there right, that’s what they say, but I think it’s kind of outside space.”
So after picking up my mouth from the floor, I affirmed that he was right and how that was a really good observation he had made. And then we went back to butt jokes and apple slices.
We didn’t talk about this stuff in my house, mostly because we didn’t go to church, but we talked about everything else. Everything. Else. I wasn’t told what to think, or how to think. I was given good tools, my imagination was nurtured, and what came out was pretty good I think.
So now, because of my parents values, my kids get to be open and honest about the things in their world, and nothing is off the table at dinner time.