Last night as I was putting C to bed, she whimpered suddenly. Thinking it was another ploy to avoid going to sleep, I was a little annoyed. And then, we had this conversation.
C: I don't want to die.
M: What's got you thinking about that? You're not going to die anytime soon.
C: Is God going to make my body look the same when I rise again?
M (after a brief pause): I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know what our bodies will look like when we rise again, but you're only 3 and you have a long time before you're going to die.
She settled down after this, seemingly satisfied for the moment. I patted her and loved on her as she fell asleep. It was (thankfully) a relatively quick process last night.
This is what happens when I field the theological conversations sans Chad. I know that I can't say with 100% assurance that C has a long time to live. But I hate it that my 3-year-old is so scared of death and last night I wanted her to let go of her fear a little. Right now she can't bear the thought of not being with Mommy and Daddy (and apparently not having the same body!) and I think that's quite okay. Maybe when she's four, we'll talk more about body-soul theology and the Christian understanding of death ;-)
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