Thursday, December 9, 2010
Four years old. That's when my kids start really thinking about God. The little wheels in their heads start churning, the questions begin, and carseat sermons commence.
From the back of my minivan, Sister Maggie preaches, rather charismatically, for a Presbyterian.
"I loooooove God. And Jesus. And dey love me. They looooove Maggie. Cause I love them. And I hate" - second only in fascination to God and Jesus - "SATAN! I hate him! Him a big ole toopid head. He does noooot love me. He's a big meanie. If I ever saw him, I'd do a big stinky gas on him! AHAHAHAHA!!! He gonna go to a river of fire! But I looooove God. And Jesus. Do you know I love Jesus Mommy?"
"I do precious. He loves you too. So much."
"Yeah. He do." She looks out the window and smiles. Perhaps a little smugly. So she is a Presbyterian...as she continues.
"Mommy? Do God love Satan?"
(Silence from the front seat. Quizzical look on Mom's face.)
"Well do he?"
"You know Maggie, I don't think so. I don't think he does." Quizzical look replaced by surprised look as I discover I, too, am a five point Calvinist after all.
"Dat's what I say. God do NOT love Satan. But Sissy said that God love Satan, cause God love everybody. But I say, No. Way. God do NOT love Satan. Sissy wrong. So wrong. God love me dough. And I loooooooove God. And Jesus. But not Satan."
Later, over Thanksgiving leftovers, her big sister asks, "Mom, does God love Satan?"
This time Mom's ready. "Sweetie, I don't think so. I really don't."
"Yeah, that's what Maggie said. But Jesus told us to love our enemies. And Satan is God's enemy. So shouldn't God love Satan?"
Quizzical look on Mom's face returns.