Claire the Evangelist?

I don't know if my daughter will ever roam the wilderness, or eat locust, or wear anything camel (as I don;t hink it will match her high heels), but I can definitely be aware of this jewel who does truly care for her friends. She asks amazing questions about faith, and my faith, and questions the language that we use, and why we do some things and not others. And she loves the story fo Jairus's daughter... its the only story she ever wants to hear. She is encouraging and astounding, amazing and challenging. Do I care as much as her?

Last night, she had a friend over. If she just read that she would correct me; her best friend. She loves this little girl dearly and has concern for her and asks where she is and if she will see her this week. Claire is never satisfied when we have to tell her no, or we'll call but things just don't work out. But last night, the stars were aligned, I guess, because they played and played and played until her friend had to leave, which left my daughter sad and a little heartbroken because their time was up.

What amazes me is the substance of their play. My daughters, both of them, love to play house, or to play doctor, or chef... as long as they are taking care of someone they are happy. Ecstatic and satisfied would also be good words to describe their play. And last night was a scene of sadness as my oldest tried to care for what she thought was the primary concern of her best friend.

Her friend does not come to church regularly, or in any noticeable pattern. Of course, she is too young to drive herself, but her mom is sick sometimes, or she is sick sometimes, so sometimes church gets missed. Claire is sad when she walks into her classroom and does not see her friend, or she does not show-up at any point. And she'll ask why, and we'll tell her what her what her friend's dad has said, or just that we're not sure if we're not sure. Adn we leave it at that. She will, every once in a while say how she wishes her friend would come to church.

So, last night, Claire played mommy while her friend switched between playing a cat, a dog, and the child. Claire would turn to her friend and say the following, whenever her friend would leave her sight and then come back (either in the room and then back out, or in one of the Dora tents), "There you are. I was so worried. I thought you were dead because you were not in church this morning."

Sometimes the phrasing would change, but that would be the general statement. "There you are. I was so worried. I thought you were dead because you were not in church this morning."

I have no doubt that Claire is generally concerned... her friend's name is perpetually on her lips. But I wonder where this notion comes from that her friend could possibly be dead that she is not coming to church. It seems harsh on my ears, what could be a great level of condemnation... one that Heather and I greatly shy from (running away from may be a better term. I don't think I've ever considered dead anyone who does not come to church. I hate some of the language that we use as ammunition to back our claims that we are right and that somehow settles it). Knowing my daughter's heart, and her mind, I have no doubt that the concern for her friend is genuine, adn beyond words. She wants her friend to be in church. And it may just be for the selfish reason that she alone would get to hang out with her friend one day more than normal. Or could it be that she really thinks of her friend as dead when she's not there.

Either way. Amazing.