Before I finally conk out for the evening, I can’t help but add this one anecdote, knowing that some of you who know our children will enjoy it. Tonight, my wife informed me tonight that our three-year-old, the creatively named Boy #4, has been having an ongoing theological discussion with her which took a dramatic turn this particular evening.
Over the last several nights, he has asked her a few times before going to sleep, “Does God have a night light?” (You may wish to note that Boy #4, himself, has a night light.) Tonight, however, he changed his approach and asked, “Why don’t God need a night light?” My wonderful wife gave him her best version of “Psalm 139 for Three Year Olds” and he apparently went to sleep satisfied.
(Yes, he said “don’t” instead of “doesn’t.” He’s currently devoting his energies in a concentrated fashion to mastering the intricacies theology, so cut him a little slack, OK? I’m sure he will correct it in the final draft of his thesis.)
I know. Things like this always seems cuter to the parents than they do to everyone else. (Of course, if you’re Richard Dawkins then such discussions implicate us as child abusers.) But it’s my blog, so you’ll have to suffer through stuff like that on occasion.
At the same time, I know that it is only a matter of time before he gets older and we get older, and moments like that — explaining why God doesn’t need a night light — will become harder to remember. The memory, as we so often say of photographs, just won’t communicate how wonderful the moment really was.
So, maybe this blog entry is really for me. Maybe by writing about it, I can shore up that memory just a bit more and make its future recall a little more vibrant than it would have been otherwise. I hope so.
[To those in our congregations, we will miss all of you while we are at the regional conference this weekend. May our God — He Who Needs No Night Light — provide you and yours with a wonderful Sabbath.]