Tonight as we were riding home in the car, we received a poignant reminder of how little ears are always listening to the things that we say. (Even if those same little ears usually don't 'listen' to a thing we say!" Owen was in the back seat, watching a movie and Matthew and I were discussing a child that had passed away during a surgery. We were talking quietly to one another, and assumed that he was totally engrossed in his movie, but alas, he heard us.
Immediately, the onslaught of questions began, and all basically revolved around the concept of, "But aren't people supposed to die when they're old?"
"Yeah, Buddy," I responded, "That's how it usually happens." I was hoping to leave it at that.
No such luck.
"But you said that a little girl died. She wasn't old. Why'd she die?"
Matthew and I exchanged the hopeless look of two parents desperately needing the wisdom to say the right thing.
"Sometimes," I slowly started, my mind racing. "Sometimes, God just has different plans and wants to bring someone home to Heaven a little earlier."
He thoughtfully considered my answer, and finally replied, "Probably God runs out of little kid pieces sometimes so he needs to bring some kids to Heaven to get some more."
Those little wheels are ALWAYS turning.