Confidence in crayon

I have a coloring and sticker book for my granddaughter called The Bible Doodle Book that has you color your way through the Word of God from Genesis through Revelation. What a wonderful idea. As the child is filling in the trees and animals of Eden (she put Eve's dog on a leash, though my stated position was that leashes were probably not necessary yet), I can be orally filling in the narrative of the story.

When we got a few pages in, the text at the top said, "Sarah Laughed: Sarah thought it was impossible to have a baby." The half-drawn picture under the text was of a man and woman looking excitedly at something invisible on the ground just in front of them. The diminutive artist was to draw a baby.

On the opposite page, small at the bottom-right-hand corner, there was a figure of a child about my granddaughter's age, sitting and thinking, with think bubbles coming up over his head-five of them filling the space and large enough for a child's scrawl. The following was written at the top:

"What do you think is impossible?"

My granddaughter read the directions and I watched to see how she would fill in the bubbles. What kinds of things, I thought, does this child consider "impossible"? What will she disclose about herself and her inner fears, or her nascent faith? What will I learn about her that I must later take her aside to counsel or reassure her about?

She began to write: "N-O-T-H-I-N-G." Thus she filled in the first bubble, and then worked her way down to the other four, writing the same, without fanfare and with quiet confidence. I asked her about it, and she replied, as if I should know better:

"Nothing is impossible with God."

And then she turned the page and started working on a drawing of Jacob's ladder.