"So how long do you get for God to forgive you?" I hear him ask softly, just as I am pulling the door closed.
"What, honey?" I ask, peeking my head into his darkened bedroom. "What do you mean?"
I didn't get the question.
"Well, like, how long?" he repeats. "How much time does a person get for God to forgive him?"
I walk back into his room, sit on the edge of his bed. "Do you mean does God give us a deadline?" I ask. "Do you mean does God only give us a certain time to ask for forgiveness?"
Noah nods. He looks a little worried.
I smooth the comforter with my hand.
"God gives us our whole lives, as long as it takes," I tell Noah. "He loves us even when we don't ask for forgiveness right away. Even if it takes us our whole lifetime. He still loves us and waits for us. God doesn't give up on us, honey."
I pause for a minute, look into his eyes. "Is that what you mean?" I ask again.
Noah nods yes again.
"God doesn't give us a deadline," I assure him again. "He loves us no matter what."
I look into Noah's eyes, at my own reflection in their gentle brown. I rest my palm on his head and lean in for another goodnight kiss.
Talking about grace with Emily and her peeps over at Chatting at the Sky.