Wonder why we have to die?

He walks around the room with notepad and pen in hand.  Yesterday this same pad and pencil was in the pocket of his shirt.  American Girl glasses were on his face and he was Clark Kent.

I said lots of

Superman, help!

until it became old and tiring but that little face looked so sweet with those small glasses that I just kept right on dying over and over while Superman fought the bad guys that had killed me. 

Wonder why I had to die everytime?

But today he is walking around giving everyone a piece of this same notepad. 

They all look like this.

And he says this,

Mommy, dis is you coss.

The cross.  Two trees together to crucify my Jesus.  My Jesus - the purpose of my existance.  My purpose to reflect the glory of Jesus Christ.

"Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." - Matthew 10:39

All that make-believe dying?  It is a game.  But what is real is my body and my heart and my mind created to make Jesus look as great as He really is. 

And I only had to die once.  And it was when I began to live.

My son draws a cross.

He doesn't give us papers with trucks drawn, or kitties, or even Superman emblems.  And those are his favorite things.

But he gives us crosses.

Because he is beginning to understand the importance?

Because he is listening when I think he isn't?

Because he overlooks the confusion that he must feel when I say the opposite of what I do? 

Because Jesus speaks louder than me.

And there is nothing without God.

 "It was becoming clear that Jesus' death on the cross had achieved two things: It showed me the way to live and it showed me the way to die."  Clive Calver