I think my faith journey begins with fear of gods. “If you play under the table during meals, you will disturb the gods who blessed us with foods. When the gods get angry, then, you will have no foods to eat.”
Or something like, “See? Now you fall sick already. I already told you not to play in the bushes at dusk. Datuk Kong doesn’t like kids to run around, shouting like that.”
And it goes on. My mother and elderly relatives and neighbors normally planted that fears of the unseen, punishing gods into us children to make us behave. So, the word god to me was a mean, menacing being whose job was to punish people.
Therefore, for people like me, it is very hard to see God as a loving, forgiving, helpful, constant companion in my life. It is hard for me to accept Jesus as the gentle, understanding, accepting, wise and sometimes, cunning and wicked Helper and personal saviour.
But thank God, I see the light and I am able to relate to God in a more personal and intimate level. The One True God does not cause little children to fall sick or get sudden fever because little, innocent children made too much noises or accidentally pee on their heads. *roll eyes* Yes, my mom also told me never pee without praying in a circle, in case, I accidentally pee on some gods walking by. I actually taught my two older sons the same thing when they were little boys who cannot hold their pee.
Hey, God is not that stupid, ok? Hahahaha. So, as a Catholic convert now, I am very mindful in never, ever teaching my little five years old boy that God is all eyes on him to punish him. I teach him to give thanks for all the little things.
The other day, he was happily wolfing down some roasted chicken pieces. I tore the meat into tiny pieces, drop a tiny mayo and put them into his mouth. He was praising how tasty the chicken is. Then, his eyes caught sight of a little poster we have on the wall above our dining table. He tried reading it, “Let the house of Your servant be blessed forever.” (or something like that) I explained the meaning to him. Reminding him that Jesus bless our home with good foods and a loving mommy who fed him nice chicken. He had been to orphanages and shelter homes and he knows that mommy is not someone every kid has. So, I told him that when he feels lucky, he must remember to say thanks to Jesus. He stopped eating, put his palms together, closed his eyes and say grace.
A while ago, he was helping my eldest son with his cake preparation. Five years old love to help carry things like eggs from the fridge, holding the spatula or just observing. Then, when the cake has gone into the kitchen (which he is not allowed to go near), he came to sit down next to me. He said, “Hmmmmm…nice….Jeff kor-kor so clever to make cake for me. His cake soooo nice….”
I told him, “So, you must remember to thank God for having big brother like Jeff kor-kor.” He gave a wave upwards and said, “Thank you….”
I think that’s what every parent ought to do. Give our children the idea that God is love. God is the kind, jolly fella who helps, not punish.
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