Is my son "saved"?

Born again.
The 4 spiritual laws.
The sinners prayer.
Asking Jesus into your heart.

These are phrases that have been a part of my life for about as long as I can remember. Lately, they are starting to sound more and more like a foreign language. What in the world do those things really mean, and where did they originate? How old or young are these concepts? Do they have any rightful place in my faith? Admittedly, I am spouting before searching, but I can certainly still ask, right?

Let me relay a little story. Back in our early "courtin'" days, Erik accompanied me to my college roommates wedding. Her whole family is very dear to me and I respect them a great deal. It mattered to me what they thought of this new guy in my life. Within minutes - seriously, mere moments - of being introduced to "Pastor Paul" (did I mention that my roommates dad was a minister?) he asked Erik point blank when he came to know the Lord. You see in my world, there is a point of demarcation and if you really meant it, then you would know the precise moment that you became "born again". I had no idea how Erik would respond. I am sad to admit it today, but the truth is I was disappointed when he had no real "testimony" to offer, at least not by my definition. I doubted his salvation.

Now, here I am today with a 5 year old son. A son who is learning about God and Jesus and Faith (big F intended). A son who has quesions to ask his mother who daily questions what truth and Faith and this Christian life really are. Here is what I still believe right now. God does not have grandchildren. While our Faith can certainly be passed on, it certainly is not a part of our DNA. Each of us must make our own personal choice. However, I am no longer convinced that that choice needs to look or sound any particular way. Seriously, if one does not pray the sweeping "forgive me of my sins and come into my heart" prayer, (whatever 'come into my heart' means) are we not truly followers of Christ? Right now, Quincy believes that God is real. He also believes that God and Jesus are one and that Jesus is always with him and loves him no matter what. What if he never prays "the" prayer? Are all his beliefs for naught?

I get the impression in the Christian world - at least in the circles I have been in - that we parents carry this sort of burden, if you will, to ensure our children's salvation. That we can't really rest until our children have stated in no uncertain terms that they are on board. It's almost like we strive for that moment when we can wipe our brow, let out a big sigh and know that we are good parents and our children are going to heaven. And most of all, we need something to point to so we can say "see, that's when it happened". Is God really going to hold me accountable for my children's salvation or am I simply accountable to be honest with them and share with them what I have come to know as the truth, foggy as that may be at times? And is salvation a moment in time or something that occurs over a span of time? Or does it even have to be either/or? If I live my life following Christ the best I can, and Quincy follows along, is that enough?

My husband still does not have an event to point to, but I no longer doubt his salvation. I still don't know what to make of my son, though. I'm pretty sure I need to let it go because after all, it is personal. But I am finding that old habits and beliefs die hard. Once again, is it really my responsibility to make sure he chooses to follow Christ or do I just need to provide him with the tools to make his own choice? I remember the anxious thoughts I had when I was pregnant with Quincy. This often overwhelming sense of responsibility to raise up a decent human being and then add on top of that leading him to Christ. Yikes! My husband shared what I believe to be some very wise words with me at that time. He said that without a doubt, we will pack some emotional baggage for our children. No parent is perfect and we really should realize this at the beginning. But the best part of what he said was this. "All we really have to do is love him and show him Jesus." I know that is terribly simplistic, but I'm a pretty simple gal. I still am not sure of the answer to my question, but I am slowly learning to loosen my grip and trust God to lead not only me, but the rest of my family as well.

Good Times

Sunday we went to a birthday party for a 4 year old. (Fortunately, Connor's mom is a smart lady and only invited 3 other little boys knowing full well that would be plenty to handle.) I had a crock pot recipe I thought I would try (for those who know me, I'll give you a moment to catch your breath -- yes, I am making a greater effort at cooking) and checked it to see if I needed to get it started first thing in the morning or if it could wait until we returned from the party. I know you're wondering what this has to do really with a kids birthday party but just stay with me. Turns out the recipe was 1 hour on high and 3 on low, so I figure the party is at noon, there's really only 3 guests, so we'll probably be home by 2:30 or so. We'll eat a little later than usual, but should be able to prepare the meal, no problem. At 6:30pm I arrived back home.
Ah, but you now think that my title is sarcastic and that I have a tale to tell about all kinds of plans gone awray. Not so, my friend, not so. Let me start from the beginning. First we all - and I mean all 4 of us - go to a meeting at REI from 9-11:30. Yeah, pre-schoolers love nothing more than to sit through an hour and a half long work meeting for mom and dad. They actually held up pretty well and did us proud. Then the kids and I dash off to Target because we have not yet selected a gift. We get that and I realize I failed to put the wrapping paper from home in the car so we could head to the party directly. A short delay, but it's just a mile back home and then we're off. It was a busy morning, but we are only 15 minutes late and still the first to arrive so no worries at all. And then 6 hours went by. Connor has a good sized fenced back yard with no real hazards of any sort, so that alone was a huge treat. The kids played inside, the kids played outside, the kids just had a ball. There were some organized activities, but for the most part it was just freestyle. Meanwhile, the parents hung out around the kitchen table and then out on the deck and just enjoyed some food, some drink, and some conversation. And that's why I still haven't had my crock pot chicken. At no point was there an awkward lull that said it's probably time to wrap things up now. And the hosts just never ever gave off any vibe that they really needed people to get out of their house. In fact, I think it was around 4:00 that Boris brought out big glasses of wine for everyone, and by big I mean the size that you do not serve your guest and then expect them to immediately get in their cars and drive. I wasn't entertained. I was engaged. I learned so much about my new friends and they learned about me. We all met back in September and have just never gotten together. It was just such a lovely afternoon. Good times. Good times indeed.

Square peg

Do we ever really outgrow that nagging need to fit in? Here I am, solidly into my 30's and still hoping that people will like me. I don't need everyone to like me, just the cool kids. How pathetic is that.
When I started visiting churches here in the Portland area, I was not looking for a home. Quite frankly, I just wanted to see if there were any churches out there that didn't give me the heebie-jeebies. And after a number of uncomfortable - and one downright horrible - experiences, I found a really great place - Evergreen - that really was as close as I've ever seen to what we were trying to do with Sanctuary back in happier times. (Maybe not happier, but at least easier.) I eavesdropped on the forum for hours on end, and when I finally visited the people actually lived up to everything their web site said they were. They were kind, genuine, witty, smart, lovely, gracious people. I stopped visiting other churches (outside of St. Nick) and have become fairly regular there. But here's the thing. After about 9 months of attending off and on, having some folks over for dinner, attending some community events, participating a little on the forum, I just don't fit. But I really waaaaant to fit. They're all really cool people. It seems like we have things in common. But I just get this vibe that no one wants to really know me. Although, I will readily admit that I very well may give off a vibe that I don't want to be known. For some reason, I have a hard time making eye contact when I'm there, and my conversations are soooo strained. I am totally accepted there. But something is still amiss. With me, that is, not with them. It's a great place. Truly. In fact, if I meet people who are looking for a church, it's the first place I would recommend. It's just that it's like the really cute guy, who totally gets your jokes and likes to hang out with you, but there's no way it's going to be anything more. Sort of. Maybe not.
What I'm starting to wonder, though is that maybe I'm just not supposed to fit.