How I know they're growing up

We moved J up to an older class in Sunday School, so instead of being one of the older kids, he's probably the youngest, or at least one of the youngest, in this class.

So after service this past Sunday, I picked J up from his class as usual, and we left church. In the car, quite out of the blue, J asked "Why did that boy push me?". He was on the verge of tears. After a few probing questions, I finally figured out that while playing at the playground in church, one of the older boys in his class had pushed him and no adult had seen it happen. I've never seen J quite so upset with something like this before. And his moodiness lasted.

It was really hard for me to see him so upset. It was hard to explain why other people can be mean or rough when they play. And it was hard to explain why sometimes these acts go unpunished (because sometimes they are unseen by others). It was hard to explain why such injustice sometimes happens (and in his young eyes, it was a HUGE injustice). It was hard for me to explain what his reaction should be, particularly since he wasn't just angry at the boy, but hurt too. It was hard to explain what forgiveness is to a young three-year-old boy (when I wanted to find this boy who pushed him and tell him off myself).

I am reminded of how much I need God's wisdom in being a parent. I came so close to not knowing what words to use when I saw how hurt he was. And it truly was divine intervention that I remembered to talk about forgiveness at all.