Tonight at dinner the table, we talked about Jesus. Tommy concluded that dying on the cross was much like receiving a spanking when you've been naughty. Except this wasn't fair, because Jesus wasn't naughty at all.
His understanding of the gospel at the age of three is a beautiful thing. He told Todd the other day that Jesus was family, that He died on the cross and that He loves Bass Pro Shops. Clearly, we are getting through on the most important things.
At some point though, Tommy changed the subject and started talking about robo-tools. (Wha?) And there was some laughter, and much less struggle to eat his dinner since we've cracked down on the whole "you're eating what we're eating for dinner" rule.
Tonight's family dinner left my heart full of hope. A hope that our table will always be full of togetherness and laughter. A safe place where good food is served and eaten and enjoyed. That it's a table that will welcome others with love, acceptance and compassion. A hope that we always value the importance of sitting down together as a family and eating a meal, talking about our day and enjoying the company of each person present. A hope that we never get too busy, too self-centered, too anything, to make the time and create the space for family meals together at that very table.
And my greatest hope - that Jesus and His great love for us, the source of all hope - is the topic of many, many more family night dinners.
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