Note To Self...

...It's time for a whole new set of parenting books. Or else more quality time with the Big Guy Upstairs. I'm not sure where to start. But I guess if you start with the latter, you can't go wrong. Right? Let me explain: two nieces and a nephew were baptized today. (Sorry, fans, no pictures because the camera bit the dust). Anyway, Luke was snuggling in to bed last night and asked what was on the agenda for today. I mentioned his cousins were being baptized and he was welcome to come along. He was long on questions and I was short on patience, so I summed it up quickly. Ask Jesus into your heart = dunked in a big tank of water.
Alarm was quickly evident in his sleepy little eyes. I could tell what he was thinking, "I asked Jesus into my heart, am I going to get dunked in a big tank of water?"
"Don't worry," I said, "you were already baptized. No one will dunk you in a big tank of water."
I quickly shut the door and avoided any further discussion. Steve was not so lucky, as he was the one to rise and shine with Luke this morning. Apparently there was much questioning.
Luke and I raced to the cousins' church to attend this much anticipated event. All kidding aside, it really was an enjoyable day. The children had both sets of grandparents in attendance, what a blessing. Both grandfathers and my brother in law prayed for each of the children and my sister lit a candle each time one was baptized. We couldn't see the actual event very well because of how the baptismal font is set up, but I think it was pretty evident what happened. Afterward, we jumped in the car and headed to my sister's house for lunch. Oh, boy. Here's where it gets dicey. He was firing on all cylinders with his inquiries: "Is there really only one God and Jesus? Why is there only one?"
"How come when we die we don't come back? Only Jesus did that?"
"Who will get me my drink and my clothes and my food when I'm in heaven?"
"Well, I don't really think that's what happens. Can we call God and ask him why we don't come back?"
"If I pray with my eyes open, will Jesus and God still hear me?"
"When I die, I'm going to call Jesus and God and tell them to bring me back. That's what I think should happen. "
This is the part where I answered those questions as best as I could, although I drew the line at pretending to call God on my cell phone. I was even brave enough to mention the Yucky Place (aka hell), but it didn't really capture his attention like the concept of the resurrection. Go figure.
"Why is there a yucky place? Hell? That's what it's called? What town is it in? Can I see it?"
Thankfully I was rescued by some trivial landmark outside our car window and he was easily distracted. Then we arrived at the cousins' house and no further questioning was needed.
I don't mean to make light of such a meaningful discussion with my child. I am thrilled that my nieces and nephew were baptized, that we were there to see it, that the Papas could pray for their grandchildren with words that brought us to tears. But, as with most aspects of parenting, there are unforseeable moments when I am at a loss for words.