On her nightstand, Ruthie has a small cross that looks as though it’s built of stones stacked upon each other. Each stone has a name of Jesus inscribed on it, front and back. It’s a gift we received as a family for Christmas, but Ruthie has claimed it as hers. Lately, our bedtime routine includes reading each of the names on the cross. We’ve done it enough times that Ruthie now has them memorized.
In our bedtime prayer the other night, I thanked Jesus for redeeming us, as ‘Redeemer’ was one of the names we had just read. When I finished praying, Ruthie asked, “Mom, what does ‘redeem’ mean?”
“Well, it means ‘to buy back’,” I replied, wondering how to explain this to a four-year-old who really should be sleeping. “If Bunny got lost and someone else said she was theirs, you would offer that person something, anything in trade for your bunny so she could be yours again, right?”
She nodded.
“You would buy her back to be yours again because you love her so much. A long time ago, when Adam and Eve ate the fruit God told them not to eat, they let sin into the world and into our hearts. Then the devil thought, ‘Aha! Now all God’s children are mine! They belong to me.’ But God said, ‘Absolutely not! I love them; they are mine.’ And you know what He did? He loved us so much that He bought us back from the devil. Do you know how He did that?”
Ruthie shook her head, eyes bright with anticipation.
“He bought us back with Jesus. Jesus gave up His life so that we wouldn’t have to belong to sin and the devil, we could be God’s children. That’s why He died on the cross, so we could be His again. He loved us that much.”
A smile broke across Ruthie’s face, and then her brow furrowed, “Why did Adam and Eve eat that fruit?”
“Because they believed the snake, the devil, instead of God. They didn’t really trust God and believe that He loved them.”
“They should have shot that snake.”
“Yes, they should have,” I smiled. Oh, what an easier world this would be. “But you know what? You can shoot him. Every time you feel like you want to do something you’re not supposed to do, like throw a fit, just shoot it. Shoot that fit. That would be sort of like shooting the snake. Or if you feel like you want to lie, you shoot that lie and tell the truth instead. Because you know what? You are a child of God; you belong to Him. He redeemed you. He loves you.”
“Is there still a snake?” she asked, unsure of what that might mean.
“Yes, only he’s not a snake. He’s called the devil, or satan. We can’t see him, but he’s the one who tries to get us to sin and do the things we’re not supposed to do.” I could see fear brewing in her features, so I added, “But we don’t have to be afraid of him, you know why? ‘Cause God is bigger,” I said, with dramatic emphasis on “bigger.”
There was that smile again.
“And He already beat that devil when He came back to life again after dying on the cross. So don’t you worry. You just shoot that sin and remember you belong to God, the Winner!”
I gave her a kiss, tucked her snugly into her covers and watched as she contentedly turned to her side, still smiling.
A few minutes later, I had to go back into her room to grab something. I found her standing on her bed, delighted. She was looking at one of her preschool projects that hung on her wall next to her bed. “Mom, look! Let me read this to you.” And, from memory she read the printed words that wrapped around the construction paper “world” containing her handprints: “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son. John 3:16.” She turned to me and smiled with a look of understanding on her face that seemed to say, “He gave His only Son, Jesus, just like you said. He redeemed us!”
I don’t know if that’s what she was thinking, or if she was just trying to delay bedtime. But either way, the evening has stayed with me. Partly because I love it when I can see a glimpse of spiritual awakening in my daughter’s heart, and partly because of what she taught me.
We have a God who loved us so much He bought us back from certain disaster with His own Son, His own life. And He defeated the power of sin in the process.
Adam and Eve should have shot that snake in the Garden. But they didn’t. So let’s shoot him now.
