Rise From the Dead Rock

Yali ran up to me after breakfast on a school morning.

“Mom! Can I go outside and chase the little birdies?”

It wasn’t time to leave yet, and he was ready to go, so I allowed it. I watched from the window, the four year-old carefully stalking each fat robin as it slowly hopped further and further away the closer he came. Eventually they got smart and hopped over the street. Yali ran back inside.

“They fly away with their arms, like this!” he declared with enthusiasm.

A few minutes later while I coaxed Yali into his carseat, he showed me a drawing he’d scratched on the driveway with a white rock.

“Look! It’s Jesus died on the cross!”

“You’re right, Yali. He died and He rose from the dead to save us.”

Yali’s black eyes grew big like he was surprised. “OH NO!” He jumped out of his carseat. “I want to chose a Jesus rise from the dead ROCK!”

He ran back to the white rocks in the landscaping, selected his writing instrument, and added to his drawing – presumably – Jesus resurrected outside the tomb. He tossed the rock back into the landscaping. His work there was done.