If the opportunity presents itself, I talk to Katie about loving Jesus and having him in our hearts and how he's always with us... (and how he can see EVERYTHING WE DO and how he knows EVERYTHING WE THINK, and how if there's mean and angry feelings in our hearts, there's NO ROOM FOR JESUS THERE. Not to scare her or anything. We might just
happen to have these talks when she's in a mood and being... oh, a little mean and disrespectful though.)
Well, one day Katie told me she loves Jesus more than she loved me. I suspect this was meant to be a mean thing (like when she told Grandma that Grandma was a flower... a flower wilted and stuck in dirt or something like that, after Grandma wouldn't give her a third popsicle). And even if she meant it mean, it still gave me a good opportunity to tell her that she's
supposed to love Jesus first and most, then her family and then other stuff.
This was a few days ago.
Fast forward to last night. Katie is in bed singing
to herself. (My actual Facebook post was: Katie is in bed singing to herself. I can hear her sing "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus is alive"... Now she's humming and "bawking" like a chicken. And back to Jesus!)
She had just picked out her clothes for Wednesday that she can wear to gymnastics (long shorts and a tank top because she gets sweaty, her words) and she had just given me orders not to forget to bring her "Katie" cup for gymnastics in case she gets thirsty. (I suspect it was the fact that the other kids had their own cups last week that makes remembering her cup super important.)
I thought the evening ended on a very high note.
I went to bed smiling about how cute she was.
I went to bed cheering about how it was earlier than 12:00 a.m.
I had just gotten comfy and was finally relaxing feeling baby Jackson kick and push and jab... when I heard it.
Her saaaaaad voice. The voice that gets weepier and weepier. Until the soft weepy voice turns into a wail.
She was talking to herself but she sounded like she was on the edge between weepy and wailing. (Once she's at "wailing", we've got a crisis. And I've got a headache.)
So I went to check on her before she passed the point of no return and as we cuddled I asked her what was wrong.
She said (in her weepy voice)...
"Mommy, you know how I'm sposed to love Jesus first, and then my family, and then my toys?"
I said yes.
"Well... Mommy... *sniff* I don't think I doooooo *sob sob*. I think I love my toys moooore *sniff* than I love Jeeeeeesus*sob sob sob*. "
I hid my smile and tried not to let her feel my belly shake from my laughter as I gave her an extra long squeeze.
I told her Jesus understands how hard it is to be a kid because he was born as a baby and had to grow up just.like.her. And Jesus knows how she feels, and what's in her heart, and that she loves him. And because Jesus knows all of this, he also knows that she wants him in her heart because she loves him. It might not have been the perfect answer but...
She calmed down a little.
Then we snuggled till she fell asleep.
Crisis averted.
At 12:00 a.m.
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