Freeze-Frame: An Invitation to Be a Fly on the Wall

Having children who are learning to communicate what's inside their heads is even more fascinating than I'd anticipated. The ordinary miracle of it all is amazing to me--how floppy toothless infants who know no more than nursing and snuggling and crying and dirtying diapers morph in just three greased-lightning years into people with big thoughts and more words every day to express them.

All of this pulled from within the last couple of hours of bedtime talk tonight--

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All five of us were snuggled up enjoying being cozy together after a full day with lots of people in it. The boys were musing on different things. Meditating on our home. The living room ceiling. Whatever struck their fancy. 

Out of the blue, Tadhg ponders, "We have such a beautiful house with all these books."

Then he gets up and grabs one. 

And Rundy reads to us for a while.

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Rundy has read a chapter of the Bible to Tadhg (and Pippin now, too) nearly every night since he was a babe in arms. He's read chronologically and is currently reading Job, but he interspersed some of the denser books (here's looking at you, Leviticus and Numbers) with the first two gospels. They talk afterwards, Rundy explaining things and giving space for questions asked and answered. 

Tonight they read a chapter in which Job responds to Zophar. After finishing the chapter, Rundy did the usual thing. 

"Do you have any questions?"

"No." 

"Well, then, I guess I’ll have to ask you some questions!"

Tadhg interjects with a sudden thought.

"But I know what sovereign means!"

"What does it mean?" 

Tadhg clearly begins to feel a bit abashed and put on the spot, so Rundy decides to have mercy on him.

"Does it mean all powerful?"

"Yeah."

"Is God sovereign?"

"Yeah."

"Did Mommy teach you that?"

"No. Jesus told me."

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After Rundy sings to each of the boys, I come in to snuggle with them and tuck them in for the night. It always involves its own sort of liturgy.

Tadhg--"Do you wanna ask me about my day?"

"Yes! How was your day?" 

"Good." 

(And some meandering detail.)

"What was your favorite part?"

(More meandering detail.)

Tonight I asked him about his conversation with Rundy.

"Daddy told me you said you knew what sovereign means. What does it mean?"

Little grin. 

"It means powerful."

"How did you know that?"

"God told me. And then I said it out loud."

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Some context.

We watched How To Train Your Dragon 2 last night. We'd watched the first one months ago, and we decided  to give the sequel a try. The boys found it pretty gripping, though we did have to put sleepy Pip in bed about halfway through. Tadhg was too engrossed to think about sleeping. The heaviest-hitting part of the movie was when the protagonist's father dies while saving him. Tadhg immediately went into must-resolve-this-sadness mode.

"Maybe he will get another dad."

We let him know that's not really how things like that work.

"Well, he will come back soon."

The boy has had multiple exposures to resurrection, what can I say? We explained that although some deaths end in subsequent resurrection, most don't. 

This is one of many conversations (I've blogged about at least one) about the idea of mortality that Tadhg has had with Rundy or I. It's a powerfully curious notion, death, and hard to wrap your head around. 

Tadhg must've still had a mind full of ponderings tonight as I was about to leave the room.

"I hope you stay alive a little bit, Mom."

"Me, too."

I probed to see where his mind was going.

"Daddy will die."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he is getting old."

We talked more before I left, but I'm sure these types of conversations are really just getting started.