Meryl's Real Question

"I'm not sure I believe all this stuff about Jesus and God like you and Daddy,"  stated Meryl, as she looked through her dark lashes deep into my soul.   "How could Jesus do miracles?  How did he have powers?  I don't have any powers, and I don't know anyone else who does."  I listened carefully and I  answered specifically, but her doubt remained, like a cloud of suspicion between us.

The communication of our beliefs is part of our job as parents.  In both intentional and unintentional ways, we all tell our kids what we see as truth about themselves and about their world.  Whether our belief system comes from an old religion like Christianity, or whether it is something we have fashioned from our own experience and pieces of meaning, what we believe runs so deep within us that we can't help but teach it in every interaction with our children.

Meryl has heard about our faith since she was a very little girl, as have all of our girls.  We are not casual or cultural Christians.  We are Christians by choice, by careful study and evaluation, and by conviction.  For Greg and I, our Christian faith has implications into every aspect of our lives, and we teach our children our faith because we see it as our privilege and our obligation to tell them the Truth.

My answers to her questions about faith were were complete, but Meryl still looked at me with doubt, and as I stood there pondering her stated questions longer, I heard the question she never asked.  My heart heard what was in her heart.  The real question Meryl has is this--"If I don't accept your faith, will I still be your daughter?  Will you still love me?"  It is a question that all children ask in one way or another.  Sometimes the question is asked after massive failures.  Sometimes it is asked with actions that seem to intentionally force distance into the relationship.  Sometimes it is asked by moving across oceans to new lands and new opportunities.  This night, right before bedtime, it was asked by a wisp of a seven year old girl with doubts and questions about faith so deep as to nearly obscure the real issue.

And so I looked back through her thick, black lashes into her deep ebony eyes, and I answered her with all my heart.  "You are precious to me.  You will have to decide for yourself what you believe about God.  It is really between you and Him.  I am here to tell you the Truth, as much as I understand.  No matter what you believe, I will love you.  If you don't share my faith I will love you.  My relationship with you does not depend on whether you are the same as me.  I love you no matter what."

"Really?  You won't love me less if I don't believe in God like you do?"

"Nope," I answered.  And just like that, all the suspicion was gone from her little face, and she kissed me and went to sleep.  She still has big thoughts, deep doubts, and ponderous questions, and I expect that she will be doing her own investigation into Christianity for quite some time.  I don't know if she will arrive at a conclusion that matches mine, but I do know that every time she investigates my love by asking me about my faith, she will hear the same answer,  "Meryl, I love you because you are mine.  I love you no matter what."