So they say that faith can move mountains. But can it? My daughter Eden is doubtful.
She has a whole head and heart full of faith. She desperately wants to believe - in fairies, in Peter Pan, in pirates, in mermaids, in unicorns, in miracles Jesus performed, in resurrection.
One morning, Eden came downstairs and said, "I actually DO believe in Peter Pan."
Several nights earlier, this was our conversation:
Eden: (speaking through sobs) I believe in pirates. I believe in mermaids. I believe in fairies. I believe in the colour green. But I don't believe in Peter Pan.
Me: Why not? You told me that you saw Peter Pan at your window some nights.
Eden: (sobbing loudly) I lied.
When it was storming the other day, she opened the door and yelled "Calm down!" Then she got progressively softer until it was just a whisper: calm down. But then she slammed the door and said, "No fair! Jesus can calm the storms but I can't. How am I supposed to follow Jesus if I can't even do what he did?"
A tough question to answer.
The resurrection stories have captivated Eden lately: Lazarus, Jesus, Jairus' daughter. But after each story, she says, "No fair! Why can Jesus make people come back to life but we can't? Then we could have Daddy's grandma back and he wouldn't have to cry and be sad that she died."
I think that it takes a whole lot of imagination to really believe. And sometimes I have more imagination than others. I sure do want my kids to hold on to a good dose for as long as they can.
And watching a Prince get married this early morning? Well, we definitely all believed in fairy tales.