Last night my daughter, Elyse, was sitting on her bed looking at books. In particular a book about the Easter story. Studying the page of Jesus on a cross, she asked, “Mommy, did Jesus die?”
I felt my heart begin to beat a little faster as I realized, this was it, my first chance to “witness” to one of my children about the awesome sacrifice Jesus made for us. I decided to keep it simple; after all she is only three. I knew this was just the first seed being planted but I could see my bright little girl coming to a personal knowledge Jesus as her Lord and Savior at a very young age. It was up to me to make sure I got it right anytime she had questions about God. So I gently explained, “Yes, He did die. He died so that you, Isaiah, Elijah and Mommy and Daddy could live a good life because he loves us so much.”
She looked deep in thought for a moment and I realized I might have made her sad thinking that some one else had to die so she could live a happy life. To ease her mind I went on. “But you know what? He’s not dead anymore! He came back to life and he is just fine now!”
Looking up from her book for the first time (her eyes had still been scanning the same picture of this man hanging on a cross looking to be in pretty bad shape) Elyse said very matter of fact, “No, I think He just died.” She pointed at the picture, completely convinced.
All I could do was chuckle. I realized. It is certainly my husband’s and my job to teach our children the beautiful truth about a God that loves us so much. But that is all I can do. Talk to them about the Lord and then back up and let God reveal himself to them when they are ready to see the truth.
Whew, that certainly takes some pressure off of me!
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