It’s Never Too Early to Talk to Your Child About My God



Childhood is a difficult, complex time. We often idealize it as a period of carefree enjoyment, filled with hopscotch and other fun-labor, but that is simply not the case. Kids have worries and fears that, to them, are quite legitimate, from monsters under the bed to smaller, higher-voiced monsters that live inside desk drawers. That’s why it’s important for us to reach out and give today’s children a helping hand.

And there’s no better way to do that than by telling them about my God.

Many people think my God is too challenging for kids to understand. After all, He is omnipotent, omniscient, and can pole vault. Add to that His vital but often-overlooked decree that “No Man shall covet his neighbor’s wife’s Coat,” and you’ve got one potentially confusing deity.

Still others argue that my God isn’t “cool” or “hip,” and that children today are too busy skipping stones and buying taffy to care about Him.

But we simply have to show our kids that my God cares deeply for them. We mustn’t forget that He created them, as He did the rest of us, eleven trillion years ago out of very small Legos. Furthermore, He wants the children of the Earth to flourish and be happy—to play with sticks of every size, to run in green pastures and leap competitively. After all, it won’t be long before they mature, at which point He will call them to toil dutifully in the construction of His twelve-story Grain Altars, or to begin birthing calves for His vast Holy Bovine Army.

Until then, let kids be kids!

Now, what’s the best way to tell your child about my God? Generally it’s most effective to bring Him up in a casual, seemingly offhand way. It doesn’t have to be a “capital-L” lecture—kids hate those!

There are lots of ways to begin. Let’s say your son comes home from school, crying because the other children made fun of the short pants you fashioned and instructed him to wear. Sure, you could apologize, dry his tears and tell him that the short pants will now be optional.

But you would be failing your son.

What you should do—what you owe your son to do—is explain that the short pants are part of the Eighteen Dictates, and that by wearing them, he is showing a reverence for my God that will pay unimaginable dividends in the afterlives.

Then, to give your words that spontaneous, conversational feel, verbally compare my God to popular basketball player David Robinson.*

Unfortunately, children are not the only ones who need to be told about my God. We’ve all met adults who, through ignorance or outright sin, flout even the most basic of Dictates. (These are the people who walk about hand-in-hand with their wives, instead of the prescribed Fourteen Paces ahead, or who snack between meals on Wednesdays.)

It’s natural to want to save these people, for the horrors that await them after death are beyond imagining—filled with darkness and the faint, ceaseless humming of a kazoo. And while saving them is important, I dream of a world in which it’s unnecessary, a world in which every adult has been sternly and patiently educated about my God and His Glories.

Let us begin now. My God loves us all—as the old saying goes, He numbered the hairs on our heads, as well as the tiny Legos that make up those hairs.

Praise be to Him.

*For example, my God stands 7-foot-four, a full three inches taller than popular basketball player David Robinson!