We were sitting down to dinner (shepherd’s pie and guava crumble, since even we can’t eat Pakistani food every single meal) and had just said grace. Thanking God for the food feels particularly important in a country where so many have so little. Our three-year-old daughter said “Amen” and looked up at me with a smile.
“I love God” she said. “He’s nice”.
Our four-year-old son looked thoughtful, wrinkling his nose as he does when tussling with a particularly difficult topic.
“I love God sometimes, but not all the time”.
He thought for a minute.
“Sometimes my love for him is big, sometimes it’s small”.
He paused again.
“But he’s always nice”.