After reading a brief children's devotional and talking about how God is the one person who's always with you,
Ian [laughing]: "God is in my heart, because I ate him!"
Me: "Actually . . . you did eat God."
Ian looks puzzled.
Me: "Do you know when you ate him?"
Me: "Well, for starters, the last time you went to church."
I can't say the conversation got any easier as it went on. I tried to explain about communion, and made sure to clarify for him that as a general rule, we don't eat other people. ("Will you eat me after I die?") There's time. I've learned to set my expectations low for these opportunistic conversations. He'll only pay attention for so long, and he'll only understand a bare minimum of what I say. (I've never been good at communicating with kids, even when I was one.) How much worse, when we're talking about things I don't even understand myself?