I love the innocence of children. It's so refreshing......direct.....blunt.....curious.....honest. Innocence of children hasn't been tainted by social norms on politeness or socially appropriate small talk. It's real and beautiful.
This evening I was eating supper with Ryan and a few other kids at church before the service. We were all sitting there, not really talking about anything, when one of the girls asked, "Does Ryan have a dad?"
I have prepared and rehearsed many times what I would say to Ryan when he will ask, but never thought about other children asking. I recognized the moment for what it was - a divine practice session - to try out what I have prepared to say when the time comes. I said, "Ryan does have a dad. But when Ryan was born, his dad was very sick, and when Ryan was a few weeks old, his daddy passed away, and Jesus took him to heaven to be with him." I had more to say, but felt the Holy Spirit leading me to leave it at that to see if other questions would come. They didn't ask anymore, but I could tell by the silence two things: they understood that death was a serious thing, but their little minds couldn't wrap around the complete idea of what death meant. I could tell that they didn't completely understand, but I could also tell that they had other questions to ask. They just didn't know what to ask or where to go with it all. I hope that more questions will come in the future from their curious minds.
How do you explain death to a child? Their minds don't comprehend the finality of death until the ages of 6-10. I remember my first experience with death at 6 years old. My great-grandfather passed away, and I understood that I would never see him again. But I think that it wasn't until my early teenage years that I understood the finality of death fully, if that makes sense.
It's funny.....in all my planning and preparing, there are still things left undone or unexplained. There are still interruptions and surprises around the corner. Just like I thought I was prepared for when Ryan would ask about his dad, I realize I am not as prepared as I thought I was. But I think that's the way it is suppose to be. If everything went as planned or as rehearsed, we would miss those divine interruptions.....those opportunities that come when we don't know what to say. For those of us who are in Christ, these moments are divine interruptions from God......those moments where we are caught off guard and we let the Holy Spirit speak through us. And it's okay to not be prepared for every question that my child or any other child may ask about Mark. It's okay because the Holy Spirit has the words, even when I'm left with none.