“I would like my children to be able to have a relationship with God”

As a mother of three young children, I often wonder about how to pass on my faith to them. I didn’t get it from my parents. But as a young adult, I experienced what we could call a “conversion”, even if the word makes me uncomfortable. Around 18, while hiking with a group of Christians, I spoke, without much conviction, to a God who was unfamiliar to me. And he answered me. It was an upheaval. Since then, I have learned to know him, to love him, to grow in his love. I never again doubted his presence. What an immense gift!

Over the years, however, my prayer has become dry. I have the impression that silence alone responds to my monologue. Daily fidelity to prayer becomes difficult. And yet, even if I would like him to speak to me, I know: God is there. This faith remains. It gives meaning to my life and I would like to pass it on to my children. Take them to mass, to catechism, yes. But above all I would like them to be able to experience a personal relationship with God. To know in turn this heart to heart which turned my life upside down. How to do it? I try, sometimes clumsily. I sow. Hoping these seeds will germinate one day.

That evening, I learned that a friend, Laure, had entered palliative care. She is much too young. The memory of my aunt Hélène, who died suddenly a year earlier for the same reasons, overwhelms me. The emotion is strong. I suggest the children pray with me. My 6-year-old son said to me: “Mom, could we ask Hélène to prepare a bed for Laure, near Jesus? » I smile. Our prayer is, as almost every time, a happy mess. Simple, spontaneous, often interspersed with questions or reflections from the children.

At the end, my 3-year-old daughter looks at me with her air that is both childish and detached. What does she understand at her age? In her big baby voice, however, she said to me, quite naturally: “God told me in my heart that there was room for Laure, next to Hélène. » Did I hear correctly? I ask him to repeat. “God said to me in my heart…” So I understand: no, our prayer was not a monologue. A feeling of immense recognition invaded me. I no longer need God to answer me. He speaks through my little ones.