Parenting in the Valley

This is the first in a series reflecting on life as we've journeyed with my wife's mom during her battle with cancer.

Hope fuels Christian living, and sometimes a much-needed top-up happens when we least expect it.

A couple of weeks ago, my 3-year old son and I were driving along.  He was sad and missing his mom.   My wife’s mother has been battling cancer, and it had just taken a turn.  Now my wife was torn between needing to be with her mom at the hospital, and with her family. We all missed her, but the little guy was taking it hard.

“When is mom coming home?” he said.

“Soon,” I replied, “Grammy is real sick and mommy needs to take care of her.”

“Is Grammy dying?” he said.  I was shocked and my mind started racing, Do I say ‘yes’? He’s three - where did he even hear about this? I remembered that my wife and I had decided to always tell our kids the truth, in age appropriate ways.

“Yeah, bud,” I said, “she is.”

“I don’t want Grammy to die,” he said, his voice choking a bit as his eyes got wet.

“I don’t want her to die either, bud.”  Had I done the right thing? I wondered.  Maybe I’d scarred my kid for life. We joked about starting a counseling fund instead of one for education; maybe it was time to take the idea more seriously.

“Dad, what’s dying?” the little guy asked from the back seat.  I paused, and then it was like in the movies when a proverbial shaft of light breaks through.  Of course!

“Well bud, when we can’t live in our bodies anymore, we go to be with God.”

My mind drifted. That sounds awful Platonic.  Its too simplistic – maybe I should explain the various views Christians have on the afterlife.

“Where is God?” he interrupted.

“God is everywhere, bud,” I said.  But as the words came out my mouth I saw the confusion on his face.  I quickly decided to save my three-year old from the benefits of my seminary education.

“When Grammy can’t live in her body anymore, she’ll live with God in his house.” Then, remembering his question I continued, “In heaven.  Grammy will live with God in his house in heaven.”

“I’m going to miss Grammy,” he said. 

“Me too, bud, but we’ll get to see her again.”  I felt the whisper of God’s spirit

“Really?”

“Yeah, when Jesus comes back, we’ll all get our bodies back.”

He stared out the window as we drove along.  Another few seconds and the conversation had moved on to typical three-year old topics.

We’ve had the conversation a few more times in the past few weeks, especially after Grammy moved in with us.  Sometimes my nine-year old daughter is part of it too.

“I can’t wait until Jesus comes back,” she’ll say.  And I’ll agree.  But deep inside I wonder if its true.  

Do I really hope for that day when Jesus makes all things right; when our partial understanding is replaced with full knowledge and we know as we have been known?

Sometimes, but those moments aren’t as often as I’d like.

Maybe that’s part of the joy and purpose of having children.  In trying to explain our hope to them, ours is moved out of the academic and reiterated in simple, childlike terms.  After all, didn’t Jesus say as he held a little child in front of his disciples:

            “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the 
kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)