What children think about God is priceless. Maybe they could teach us something.
"Is God a man?" I asked my six-year-old as we were driving down the road.
"Of course, God is totally a boy name," she said punctuating her sentence with a you-should-know-that snort.
"I see," I said, trying not to smile too widely. She is easily embarrassed at this age when she thinks I am mocking her. In reality, I'm getting joy out of the way her little mind works. But that's not something you can explain to a six-year-old.
"Plus he's a father; you know they say that at church, God the Father. Fathers are always boys," she said, crossing her arms across her chest to emphasize her point.
"Well, how do you think anyone gets to God, I mean He's really faraway, right?" I said, prompting her to go on.
"Rocket ship, definitely a rocket ship. Heaven is really, really far. It's like past space," she said with confidence.
This time, I didn't try to hide my smile. I grabbed a pad from the center console of my car and awkwardly balanced it on the center of my steering wheel as I scribbled some illegible notes.
"What do you think He's like?" I asked.
"Nice, very nice. He has to be, He's God," she said. "Mommy, what are you writing?"
"Just a list," I said, fibbing.
"I see the word GOD. Are you writing down what I'm saying?" she said leaning forward into the front seat.