My children are grappling with God these days, partly because they’re at that age, but largely because we just sent them to church camp for a week, NOT because I wanted to indoctrinate them but because:
a) it got them out of the house for three hours a day
b) it’s a good opportunity to learn some of the Bible stories, foundation of so much Western literature and art, and
c) they have to have something to reject when they turn eighteen.
Camp has had some interesting consequences, however. For starters, the children now wish to say grace, which is lovely. The other day, the six year-old made a charming “thanks for the food speech,” and then the three year-old got on the bandwagon, too, to thank god for dump trucks.
I was horsing around with the three of them, and grabbed my son, which is when my oldest daughter charged me, arms outstretched, fire in her eyes, and cried, “Let my people go!”
“Did you study Moses today?” I asked, setting my son down, and she very proudly nodded. Great. I have a prophet on my hands.
But it’s the middle daughter who’s really gotten into the spirit of the thing. First of all, she informed me, the DEVIL brings bad dreams, but not to worry! All I have to do is say “Hail Mary!” and the devil will disappear. Got that, everyone? (And, in case you’re wondering, I don’t think this is exactly what went down at camp. We attend a really liberal, Episcopalean church, where I’ve never, in all the years I’ve been going there, heard them mention the devil, much less say the Hail Mary.)
But the funniest thing is her new proclivity for praising. She really gets into it, walking around in a bliss-bubble with an electric candle upraised. Nothing and no one is safe. “Praise this house!” she chants. “Praise my brother! Praise these pancakes!” She’s like an old-timey, revivalist preacher. I’m worried she may erect a tent on the front lawn and start saving the neighbors.
So, that’s my life at the moment. Full of gospel tunes. Full of praise, and full of grace for the dump trucks. Bon Vivant!
Oh, this is so sweet and funny! And so similar to my house right now, where my son (also at that age) has suddenly become interested in Bible stories, and for some reason, specifically the King James Version he found, which has created some tough theological questions for which I’m really not equipped, especially before my morning coffee. I also need to find a children’s Bible because you know that stuff is not exactly rated G.
He also ran across some old Halloween costume devil horns and I REALLY WISH I’d told him they were “monster horns” because that launched a whole conversation about “What’s a devil?” and I ended up hiding the horns because they were kind of freaking him out!
I laughed out loud at this: “c) they have to have something to reject when they turn eighteen.”
Kris, be glad you’re not me. Last night my daughter asked how babies get OUT of the mommy’s tummy. I gave my standard answer, “The doctor takes them out,” but she was not to be thwarted. “Yes,” she asked, “but HOW?” She was, to say the least, amazed to hear the answer. Don’t think she’ll be asking again for a while….
I took my son to one of those classes at the hospital for older siblings of impending babies, and they performed this hilarious — yet age-appropriate and factually accurate — demonstration of birth using dolls, both the old-fashioned way, and C-section. (Though for the C-section, the doll had velcro. If only!) So he’ll well schooled in that. Thankfully, he has not wondered how they get IN there to begin with. Right now he figures it’s sort of a random occurrence. The other day he said, “You just never know when you’re gonna have a baby.”
What a funny post, Tiffany! We’ve definitely been getting a lot of “why” questions about god, birth and death these days–and it is hard to know how to answer. It’s got to be simple enough for him to comprehend, but complex enough so that it doesn’t sound evasive… Tough work for a parent.
I love the image of your daughter blessing the house…
Sorry I didn’t pop by earlier. But this was one funny post and I keep thinking about your kids praising around the living room! Reminded me of when my kids were younger and St. John and I were trying to observe (minimally) Hanukkah and Christmas and finally one of my kids chimed up, “Oh, I get it! On the eighth night of Hanukkah baby Jesus was born!”