At lunch today the kids and I were discussing crafts and creating. As conversations tend to do, it twisted and turned into another discussion, this one about God being the ultimate creator.
Tadpole, my ever-curious, big-thinking four-year-old child, posed a deep question: how many attempts did it take for God to “get it right” when making humans? (The question alone was enough to blow my mind.)
I paused before taking a stab at an understandable answer, and simply stated that perhaps it only took once, that He got it perfect on the first attempt!
Which in turn prompted Tadpole to ask me, “What does PERFECT mean?”
Ah, I told him, it means when something is absolutely correct, without blemish, ideal, sinless. Perfect. Like God himself. “After all,” I stated, “God is the ONLY ONE who is truly perfect.”
Tadpole stared blankly at me for an instant before replying, “But Mommy, you always tell ME that I am perfect.”
Perceptive catch, Tadpole. Because he’s right, I do often tell him that he is perfect – exactly the way he is.