Usually, that's because she says some of the most hilarious things a human being could say... and they're frequently even more hilarious coming from a rather small, 8 year-old human being.
But tonight was a different kind of "utterly dumbfounded." Tonight Mollie said the kind of thing that when a kid says it, you sit there, reveling in the sheer simplicity of the phrase - the complete, unadulterated truth of it. And then you take great delight in the child herself. You're filled with pride that you know such a perceptive kid. And then comes the gratefulness that you were there to witness such a divine connection in the child's mind and heart. And then, well goodness, you just love that kid.
Let me tell the story...
It's a pretty normal Saturday evening after a busy day collecting things for the upcoming yard sale and visiting with friends. I'm sitting on my bed unwinding, taking in the silence and solitude and, well, checking Facebook. Come on, who doesn't? Then, out of the blue there comes a light rap on my door. I'm slightly slower to respond than I probably should be, and there comes a smart knock, knock, knock accompanied by a "Jilllliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeee?"
"Yesssssiiiiiiiiiiieeeee?"
"Will you come read a book with me?"
"Do I have to?" I'm slightly ashamed that I say that.
"... No... you don't have to..." She's so selfless - but there's clear desire in her voice. She's not going to force me to read with her. She won't whine if I say that I'd rather not tonight. My attitude changes.
"Do you want me to?"
"Yes!!! =D" I'm glad it is this word. I didn't expect a different word. She comes prancing into my room a shining little ball of pure energy and raw excitement. I think all excitement in the world comes from that child. It is manufactured inside of her by little elves made of electricity and delivered to the world by lightning! And people who die from being struck by lightning, in case you were wondering, don't die because of the electricity, they simply die because they can't handle such a high dosage of my sister's gift to the world. Yes. That is makes so much sense!
ANYWAY...
She makes a few comments about the hazardous state of my room, just like she does whenever she breaks into the sanctum, to which I reply, "Well I didn't ask you, did I?"
"No."
"Okay then."
"But still... it's a mess. You need to clean it up. You've got a lot of cool stuff in here! Why is this pillow so fluffy? Mine is so flat. How come yours is fluffy and mine is flat? I wish mine was like that! We have the same pillow, you know. You've sure got a lot of blankets in here. Why do you have so many blankets? I like blankets, too, but I don't use that many! But I do use a lot, actually, when I'm cold, so I guess we're kind of like the same. How come you got so many?" Breath.
"Because I like them. I get cold at night and they keep me warm."
"Oh. Okay. Me too... sometimes... Will you read a story with me?"
"Yes yes yes. Go pick a book. I'll come down to your room with you." At that, she scampers down the hallway, stopping on the way to tell me about the window and how it used to frighten her at night because her reflection looks like a ghost. She bursts into her room and flies onto her bed while I pick out a book. I realize that I told her to pick one, but then I remember that I had a favorite book I left in her room when it used to be my room and I want her to read that one to me. I cant find it, though, so I choose a story about Adam Raccoon. He's cool if I remember correctly. She'll like this one.
I sit down on her bed and get comfortable with the rest of the audience - 334 stuffed animals. Not really, but pretty much. She opens the book and tells me that Adam Raccoon stories have lessons to learn in them. And that this book belonged to Jonny, our oldest brother, when he was little.
"See? It says right here that this book belongs to Jon Stutzman."
"I see that. Go ahead and start reading." She begins reading the story. A few pages through the book I realize that this story is basically a children's version of the Prodigal Son. I'll give you a basic summary: Adam Raccoon lives with King Aren, a lion. Adam is the King's son - they spend all day together working and eating great feasts. King Aren tucks Adam into bed every night after a bedtime story. Adam is happy there. He needs nothing, he wants nothing. He is perfectly cared for by King Aren.
But one day while Adam is out in the wood he sees a circus coming to town. He is dazzled by the lights, the music, and the impressive acts the circus performers do. He goes home that night to King Aren and he can't sleep. He's too distracted by the circus. So Adam takes his piggy bank and so he doesn't wake King Aren, quietly leaves his home. He goes back to the circus and asks the Ring Master if he can join. The Ring Master asks Adam what he can do, and Adam says he can juggle. So the Ring Master lets Adam join the circus, but says it will cost him. He takes Adam's entire piggy bank in exchange for the chance to juggle. Lucky for Adam, he's a huge hit! Everyone loves the juggling raccoon.
One night, Adam goes out to perform, and there is someone else already on the stage, doing his act. Adam is very confused and goes to speak to the Ring Master about it. The Ring Master tells Adam he is to have a new job and takes him to clean the elephants. Once Adam is finished, the Ring Master shows Adam to his new sleeping place - the bottom of the monkeys' cage. To make matters worse, all Adam ever gets to eat is the monkeys left over banana peels. Adam remembers the good food and care King Aren provided for him and he misses home.
All the while, King Aren walks the road, waiting for Adam to come home. He never leaves, he never stops, he just waits.
Adam decides, after one night too many on the bottom of the monkeys' cage, that he's going to escape and go back home to King Aren. With the help of the other circus animals, Adam sneaks away without the Ring Master finding out.
While Adam is on the way home he thinks, "I wonder if King Aren will take me back..." And before my radiant little Mollie can even turn the page, she says, "He shouldn't think that."
"What?" I sense brilliance in her.
"He shouldn't think that. He shouldn't wonder that." It's so close...
"Adam shouldn't wonder if King Aren will take him back?" I'll pry the thought from her wonderful little brain!
There it is.
Did you get it?
Do you see what my sister sees?
Do you understand what she understands?
It's so simple. So extremely simple. In fact, it's so simple, she didn't even know that that was exactly the lesson of the story she just read. It just made so much sense to her, she didn't even have to think about it. She didn't miss a beat. She just knows that when you love someone, you take them back. Always.
When I asked her what she thought the lesson of the Adam Raccoon story was, she complicated things. We all do. We all know what the lesson is... but when we're asked, we have to complicate it. We're taught to. We're taught to over think things - to make them logical, to make them a good, thought-through answer. I'm not saying that is all bad, but maybe we're missing something when we do that. Maybe we're missing that divine glimpse into God's heart - that glimpse that children can often access because of their innocent, simple minds.
We all know the ending of the story. Adam Raccoon goes back to King Aren who meets him while he's "still a long way off" and they have a huge celebration and everyone is happy again.
Now let's rewind a little and go back to the good part. I'll tell you what was happening to me while my little sister was reading.
She gets to the part where King Aren is waiting for Adam to come back to him and back to home. She's reading the words and I'm looking at a picture of a lion with a crown on his head standing on a hill overlooking the rest of the land. The circus is off in the background and the lion, clearly distraught with arms slightly raised, looks longingly out at the the circus and the land in the distance.
I don't know what came over me then, but I must have heard God speaking to me. I realized that that's actually what He does. He stands there and waits for me to return to Him. He never leaves. He just stays there, anticipating my return. Every time I run off to the circus. Every. Single. Time.
Wow. I am in awe, nearly brought to tears. But I really can't cry while she is reading, because she'll wonder if I am crazy.
She keeps going. She gets to the part where her sagacity takes my breath away and I sit there, struck by how simply she puts it. "If he were my child, I'd take him back." Um, people, that is God right there. In that statement. So many verses poured through my head when she said that. I don't remember ANY references though, we'll blame it on my multiple concussions. I remembered the story about fathers not giving stones to their sons when their sons ask for bread, and how much greater gifts our heavenly Father will give us then, if our earthly fathers know how to give us good gifts. I also remembered the verse about not being able to enter the Kingdom of Heaven unless we first become like children. So, basically, when Jesus said that He really knew what He was talking about. It's amazing.
So if you take nothing away from this exceedingly long blog post, take away this small phrase...
You're His child. He will take you back. He will always take you back.
