Some Hard Questions

We had another amazing conversation in the car yesterday. This time: 1) how did they put another heart in our neighbor? and 2) How does God make a soul?

We'd been in the car less than five minutes when our recently-turned-6-year-old just casually mentioned that he heard (thanks, Abi) our neighbor was very sick but was lucky enough to get a heart from a young girl who had died.

Our middle kiddo immediately responded with:

"What?"

This is typical of our baby girl. She heard him. But she processes at a different speed. She seems to need the repeat. Baby boy was happy to repeat. Her first follow-up: "How did he get another heart?" Her brother speculated "I guess they took out his old one and put in that new one." To which an incredulous baby girl responded, "Mom! I can't touch my heart. How did they reach his heart to pull it out?" And that's when I tried my hand at a preschool-appropriate explanation of surgery, certain surgical tools, and the concept of controlled injuries.

The image of a surgeon using a scalpel, clamps, needles, and thread, led baby boy to ask "Didn't it hurt when they pulled his old heart out?!" And there I went, trying to explain the concept of an anesthesiologist putting someone to "sleep" so that they felt nothing until they woke up. Being happy for the neighbor then led to questions about his donor. Baby girl perceived an injustice. "Why didn't they give the girl a new heart?" I was feeling the pressure now. Imagine trying to explain to a four-year-old the concept of irreversible death. Sometimes it's just too late, I heard myself say. "If a person is totally dead," I offered (as if you could be partially dead), "a new heart won't help."

And here went the transition to the ever-present push and pull between faith and empiricism. "Doesn't she need her heart for heaven?" posed baby girl.

"Well, no, baby girl. She doesn't. Remember, these bodies are something God lends us while we're on earth. Only our souls go to heaven." This only prompted further questioning from our son, who was starting to realize the questions were stretching outside my knowledge base.

"Here's a hard question scientists probably don't know yet," he said. "How does God make a soul? What is a soul? Can you show me a picture of a soul?"

A pregnant silence filled the car. When I finally responded this is the best I had:

"I can't show you a picture of a soul. It's not tangible. It's more like...a concept? Like love. Do you think I could show you a picture of love?" I said.

"No!" he responded. "How would you do that?! But maybe a soul is like a ghost or something and we could get a picture. I'm not sure."

I'd never been so relieved to approach my parents' mailbox and have them get distracted by their impending evening plans. I'd also never been so proud of them! The curiosity, the follow-up, the connections...all of it!

This is why I homeschool! Or one of the reasons. The desire to learn isn't always present during school hours or the allotted subject matter time slot. The answers aren't always obvious or something we want anyone other than us (as their parents) to address in the first instance. And yet, entertaining their questions and engaging in their thought processes, in real-time, is critical to their development. If the price of having intellectually curious and critically thinking children is that I can rarely have a quiet car ride and that I'm often interrupted in the middle of a contract, I'm willing to pay it.

And homeschooling isn't the only way to raise intellectually curious, critical thinkers! There are many ways.

But homeschooling allows me to witness it firsthand. So we'll keep praying through it. What a privilege! What a blessing! What a treat!