I once heard about this Hebrew Proverb of the way children enter this world. According to the tale, the Angel Gabriel tells each baby all the secrets about God and the universe. Then he kisses them on the head before sending them off to be born. Immediately thereafter, they begin to forget.

A nice fable. Folklore.

At least it always seemed that way, until Quinn entered our lives — four years ago today — and periodically began dropping uncanny conclusions with curious certainty. As if he’d heard these details firsthand.

Like this conversation between Lindsay and Quinn a few months back:

 

. . .

{The song “Rock of Ages plays in the background…}

Lindsay:  My Mamaw used to sing this song to me all the time.

Quinn:  Why doesn’t she sing it anymore, Mom?

Lindsay:  Because she died and is now in heaven.

Quinn:  Did she get to heaven through those holes, Mom?

Lindsay:  Which holes, Q?

Quinn:  You know, the ones in Jesus’ hands. Mamaw went through those, and now she’s in heaven.

. . .

Truth or tale…fact or fiction, Lindsay and I are learning to lean more and more into the mysteries of these moments. The beautiful things of life — hope, love, grace, mercy — still exist in the unknown.

And fait, it waits there.