Where she learned this question, or latched onto this constant desire for knowing about Jesus, I do not know. But every day, she asks.
We play together.
She hears her sister start to stir.
We sit at the table.
Throughout the day, her thoughts return to Him, to Jesus. To other favorite friends, yes; but He is always included.
Family and friends come and go as the day progresses, and she asks of Him. When is He coming?
Furrowed eyebrows, and concern in her voice ask again,
Her eyes light up at the prospect. Her eyes sometimes water.
This not-yet-two-year old, this not-yet-theologian asks me what my mind otherwise fails to ask even once a day. She wants to know. Does He cry? Does He get boo boos. Does He go to the playground? Is He happy? She wants to be with Him.
I want to want Jesus like she does. .