I've talked before about Claire's increasing fascination with God and religion. Ever since we busted out the nativity scene at Christmas and I taught her the handful of hymns I've memorized (from way back, I might add), she's been asking more questions and we've been stumbling our way towards more answers. Truth is, Ron and I wouldn't characterize ourselves as particularly religious. We both took the Belief-o-Matic quiz recently. According to our results, he should be a Buddhist and I should be a liberal Quaker, but right now I'd offer that we fall into the "progressive Christian" category. Holy rollers we are NOT.
Claire seems to be a big fan of Jesus. I think she really latched onto the idea that he was a baby, just like her, born in a barn and laid in the hay because "he didn't even have a bed, Mama!" She's asked me before if she could meet him. According to this morning's encounter, however, I think she's discovered that, indeed, He is already there.
We were in the bathroom and she's talking. She's ALWAYS talking, so I have learned to tune out quite a lot of the background babble. However, I took notice when she started saying "Jesus" at the beginning of every sentence. Turns out she was putting Jesus through the motions of her new tumbling class:
"Jesus! Jump like me!"
"Jesus! Reach way up high on your tippy toes!"
"Jesus! Roll like this on the ground!"
The lesson continued, and Jesus was put through a whole range of gymnastics and animal movements. He seemed to be fairly cooperative.
So, while you and your family may walk with the Lord, here at our house we leapfrog with Jesus.