This morning as we were driving to daycare, I asked my 5-year-old what she wanted to tell God she was grateful for today. She didn’t answer, but my question unleashed a whole bunch of questions from her: How can God hear everyone praying if he’s in the sky? If God loves us why does he give us bad lives? (Note to self to pay attention to possible negative vibes I’m giving off). How do you know if God is talking to you? How do you know if he’s saying Yes? (Ah, now I still wrestle with discernment.) Why did God want to make us?
So I bumbled through responses, mostly saying that she was asking really great questions, that people are still asking these questions, and so on. She didn’t seem to be bothered that I didn’t have very good answers, because she suddenly piped up, “I want to talk more in the car!” Conversation is usually rather difficult, because usually our 3-year-old is there as well, demanding to be included, which means we’re usually trying to talk over the repetitive chant of “Mommy! Mommy! Mooommmmyyy!” (I should mention that the 3-year-old has some serious language delays, so even most two-word sentences are beyond her at the moment).
So this morning was rather delightful, despite the fact that we got to daycare too late for her to have breakfast (which she didn’t like anyway—Rice Crispies) before hopping on the daycare bus to school. I felt like one of those Mothers You Read About who sends her kid to school without breakfast, so he can’t concentrate and has to stay back a grade. I hope she eats lunch.