L. came out of Sunday School today, excited — as usual — to tell me what they had done. They had snacks, they sang songs, they talked to “Bubba” — a sheep puppet who entertains them every week, dearly loved by all the children — and they learned about Jesus.

“What did you learn about Jesus?” I asked.

He handed me his coloring paper — a simple cross with the words Jesus Died for Us written across the top.

My first reaction was a combination of curiosity and confusion. I wondered how a curriculum for tiny kids handled the concept of Jesus’ death. L.’s too young to even attempt to explain it to me, but still, I’m curious.

L., like most two-year-olds has no concept of death whatsoever. In part, because he has been almost entirely isolated from it. And in part because, well, he’s two. He barely understands the concept of “Daddy’s on a business trip.” Forget the “…and will be back in three days.”

Time is an enigma. He knows he doesn’t like nap-time, but he does like play-time. The idea of “tomorrow” and “yesterday” are vague enough, let alone the concepts of “life” and “death.”

So I wondered — did they keep it short and sweet? Just “Jesus died for us.” That would be my guess. But wasn’t that phrase pretty much meaningless to all those energetic little toddlers? If they didn’t get it, what was the point?

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that learning, repeating, and even believing the words before truly understanding the meaning behind them happens all the time.

I was once a 20-year-old bride, and completely clueless. I stood in front of a church and proclaimed my love and commitment to Chad before God, our family, and our friends. I said those words, I meant those words, I whole-heartedly believed those words.

But did I have any clue what committed, forever, no-matter-what marital love was all about?

Um…no.

Did I know what it meant to hang in there when things got rough, to love someone after I got to know them through and through, to put someone else before myself?

Not particularly. Does anyone, on their wedding day?

I was just pretty sure that I was marrying a great guy who would never let me down, a boy with blue eyes and plenty of smarts, the person who would always make it easy for me to love him.

We learn, though, don’t we? Even in the best marriages, it takes time to learn what real love is all about.

We say the words, and even believe them, long before we comprehend the meaning behind them.

Another example: We have our first child and someone tells us, “It will change your whole life.” We nod in agreement, knowing this to be true, believing on some level that we will indeed be changed by becoming parents. But it’s not until after we’ve changed countless diapers, spent a sleepless night or two nursing croup, prayed desperately for protection and guidance for a grade-schooler, wait up for a past-curfew teenager… that we realize the full import of that statement. It will change your whole life.

You’re not kidding.

The same goes for Christians. We make a decision to “follow Christ,” but we rarely know what we’re getting into at the time. Letting Him prune us, deal with our stubborn sins, lead us down paths we may never have chosen for ourselves — these are the things that teach us what following Him really means. And they only happen over time, making the understanding a gradual process.

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So I put L.’s Sunday School paper up on the fridge, and this week we’ll talk over lunch about that lesson.

Jesus died for us.

Right now, they are just words. Another sentence L. has added to his repertoire of things Jesus is or does. Jesus loves me. Jesus helps me. Jesus died for me.

Does he know what that means? Nope.

But as he grows older, the understanding will come.

He’ll see that the cross on that marigold-colored card-stock represents God’s love displayed on this Earth. He’ll discover that “Jesus died for me” speaks of God’s incredible compassion for us, His desperately helpless creation.

One sentence becomes the foundation for hope and salvation and love and life worth living.

The words before the meaning? That’s okay with me.

The meaning will come. And, I pray, it will change his life.