*Yet another disclaimer: This entry is meant to offend no one. I swear. It's just a cute story about a kid.*
We're not terribly religious folks. So most of what Sam has learned about Jesus has come from her interactions with other members of our family, particularly my sister-in-law who used to baby sit her.
And, being 5, Sam has recently had endless -- and, I must say, surprisingly esoteric and philosophical -- questions about death. What happens when you die? What happens to your body? What's a soul? Where does it go? Where is heaven? Who is God? What does God look like? Does Jesus always sit with God, or does he get to go do things by himself sometimes?
I've been answering those questions as well as I can while giving her a broad perspective. Rather than presenting one view as the correct one and saying all the others are wrong, I've been saying, "Some people believe this. Other people believe this. Mommy and Daddy believe this."
It makes the conversations longer, but I feel better about them afterward.
Anyway, we were at my in-laws' house a few weekends ago, and Sam noticed my mother-in-law has pictures of Jesus in almost every room.
"Hey, look! It's Jesus again!" Sam would say, pointing to an image on a wall.
One morning, as I was getting her dressed in the room we stay in, Sam noticed the crucifix hanging on the wall above the headboard. She snickered, then said:
"Look, Mom, there's Jesus again."
And then she dropped her voice to a whisper.
"And he's in his underwear!"
I did not laugh.
I am very proud of myself for that.
I simply said, "Well, that's not quite his underwear, although I know it looks like that. And that's definitely not something that we joke about with Jesus."
What I wanted to do was fall backward on the bed and howl with laughter.
Religion through the eyes of a 5-year-old. Yes, nothing is sacred.
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