Pissed, Fell In a Puddle, Found God

When I picked Ella up from school, she seemed happy enough to see me. She didn't run into my arms as she normally does, but she was smiling, giving away kisses, handing out stickers, giggling. On our walk home, she began a very enthusiastic story about something in her backpack, something "more important than anything in [her] backpack." Despite her enthusiasm, Ella failed to include any details that would give me any indication of what important thing she had in her backpack. So I asked a number of questions, which really pissed her off. She said something like, "I get tired of repeating myself. Why can't you just understand things the first time?" I found her outburst obnoxious but also kind of humorous, and so I just kept walking and listening. Oh, she wouldn't stop carrying on about what a hard life she has and how it makes her sad that sometimes she just isn't happy to see me, blah, blah, blah. And right about the time her ranting got out of control, she fell in a freezing puddle and scraped her knee. And then she became hysterical. What could I do but hug her? I knelt down in the street and wrapped my arms around her and told her that I loved her, even when she wasn't happy to see me. This made her cry even harder. When she had calmed down a bit, she looked up at me and stuttered ... "sometimes I just think about things that I can't tell anyone, not even you. And I just am sad, and I don't know what to do." My heart started racing as I wondered what could riddle a five year with such anxiety. Times like this, I am grateful that Ella can't stop talking. She said, "Mom, it's just that sometimes I am not sure if there really is a God."

A sigh of relief. I mean, who doesn't wonder that at some point in her life? We had a long talk about faith and the differences between "knowing" and believing. I told her that her concerns were valid, that though I can tell her "the sun is shining" and she can walk outside and verify that in fact the sun is shining and though I can tell her that "rain is falling" and she can walk outside and verify that in fact rain is falling, when I tell her that God is real, I can offer her no empirical evidence. I told her to pray for faith. I told her that we know God is real because we believe that He is real. She responded, "No, mom, no that's just not true. I have proof that God is real. I just keep asking myself these questions all of the time, questions like, where does an adult come from and I know that the adult was a baby. I ask myself where does that flower come from and I know that the flower was a seed. And I ask myself where does the sun come from and then I just think this about everything and then I know that God is real because somebody had to do all of this. It always goes back to God."

By the end of the night, she declared that I was the best mommy ever; that was proof enough for me that there really is a God.