Third child faith

Bedtime Theology with the 3 yo...   

(Playing with stickers at the kitchen table)

3 yo: (Holding an Easter egg sticker) This sticker is Easter.

Me: What does Easter make you think of?

3 yo: Jesus.

Me: What does Jesus do?

3 yo: He goes all over the place.

Me: Yea, that’s true. What else?

3 yo: He talks a lot. He sings a lot.

The thing about the third child is that you care a lot less about doing things right. Should we haul out Easter stickers in the summer? Sure! Eat Goldfish crackers for breakfast? We were low on groceries! Play 1980s music so often that the toddler knows Bon Jovi better than Blimpy and Bluey? Guilty. Things are a little more lax with this third child which is a tired metaphor and also absolutely true. And yes, he's still the only kid without a baby book.

I was a lot more religious (pun intended) about the faith formation of my older two children, who are closer in age than this latecomer to our family. We read Bible stories almost every night, sang Sunday school songs at bedtime (with actions), made (and used) a home offering jar to give to church and had a lot more bedtime theology stories. I still do prayers at bedtime with all of them, but the 3-year-old is far less receptive than my others were when they where this age. And when it comes to songs, this kid will tolerate "Zacchaeus was a wee little man" but he prefers to yell into a pretend microphone, "Your love is like bad medicine." 

He's getting some sort of the best-I-can-do faith formation, in the chaos of raising three kids while keeping house and yard and jobs. I think I'll start calling it "third child faith," and maybe it's a more realistic and honest way to think of any faith formation.

There have been seasons of my life where I've tried to have the "perfect" faith life for myself. I would try to read through the Bible, get into a regular prayer schedule, go away on retreats and even went to seminary (last resort!) I've had some incredible spiritual highs and "God moments," but life happens, things change, and a perfect faith life is illusory, a vanity, to quote Ecclesiastes.

Perhaps a deep and abiding faith isn't crafted from doing it right, but from holding onto the desire to connect with the divine, in the midst of the chaos of life. 

In yoga practice (which I also don't do as often as I'd like), a teacher will often invite the students to set an intention for the practice. Perhaps it's to work on tight hamstrings, or to slow down the fluttering mind or to become aware of the breath. To set an intention isn't a goal - there's not a 5-step process or a list or a progress report. Rather, the awareness is set and carried in your heart as you flow through the poses, including the final Savasana (corpse pose), where the yogi is invited again to return to that intention, and hold it in her heart.

I'm holding the intention of raising kids to know and love Jesus and to show his love in words and deeds in the world. So, we talked about Easter in the summer. Yesterday, all my kids helped me make cookies to deliver to a friend living with cancer. This weekend, we will miss church to spend time with friends - who also love Jesus - at their cabin.

My 3-year-old reminded me that Jesus goes all over the place. It feels like that is where I live - all over the place. It's good to trust that Jesus is there, too.