Tonight, the Monkey asked me what happens to us when we die. Not really wanting to get into a discussion about the need for redemption with a three-year old at 7:45 at night, I said, "Well, if we ask Jesus to be our friend, we go live with Him." He thought about this for a second and said, "I want to ask Jesus to be my friend." So we prayed together, him repeating after me: "Dear Jesus. Thank you for loving us. Please be our friend. Amen." This was immediately followed by a serious conversation about why Creamy Dog (his favorite stuffed animal) is stuffed with beans.
I don't care how many theology degrees you have, how many C.S. Lewis books you've read, or how many years you've been a missionary: your faith can never be as full and complete as that of a three-year old kid who just wants Jesus to be his friend. How often do we bog ourselves down in needless complexity when it really, really can be that easy?
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