My son Mikey (age 5), as he's being tucked in at bedtime, likes to tell me about things that happened during the day, exciting things and things that trouble him. And of course, the great existential questions I've barely answered for myself, nevermind be able to explain to a preschooler. Last night he asked me, out of the blue, about God:
He's everywhere?
Yes, everywhere.
Inside your eyeball?
Yes, in my eyeball.
(We laugh)
What about my toys? In there?
Yup.
In outer space?
Yup.
Even where there's no air?
(I'd told him God is everywhere but you can't see him, just like air)
Was God ever a kid?
No, God is just God. God is the love that's inside everything.
(He pauses)
Did God make everything?
Yes.
(He thinks for a moment)
God made spiders that bite and mean things?
(His lower lip begins to tremble. Things have taken a sudden and grave turn. How do I even begin to answer that?)
Yes, honey, even spiders and mean things.
God makes mean things? He does?
(His eyes begin to fill with tears. This sudden sensitivity, this sweetness, catches me off guard. I want to gather him up and love away whatever's taken hold in his heart. But his honesty and transparency catch me, ask me to respond in kind. I feel unprepared. What can I say, to a 5 year old, to my son?)
God makes everything. Spiders are scared of us too. Sometimes people step on them.
I don't!
I know, sweetie, but God gives us all choices. He's inside everything, but he gives everything the choice of how to act. Just like you choose to not step on the spiders.
Oh.
(He snuggles up to me, and that is the end of that, for now.)
It's that age old question, Why does God let Bad Things happen? How is it that a five year old, with the haziest understanding of what God is, already grasps the greater implications of what it means to be a force that's part of everything?
