4-year-old atheist

I still haven't recovered from this one.

So last night, I'm lying in bed with Lizzy. We'd just read a Dr. Seuss book, because it's his birthday or something (again?!), so they're reading Seuss books in school. And, well, you don't really need an excuse to read a Dr. Seuss book, do you.

We'd been doing reasonably well getting the girl to sleep in her own bed, but then I left for most of a week, and to be fair to Matt, our resolve was slipping before then, anyway. So now she wakes up at 2 or 3 and clambers on into our bed. She doesn't even need any help getting up there, any more. Sometimes Matt wakes up in the morning and realizes for the first time that Lizzy's even there. Oh, to sleep that soundly...

Back to Lizzy's bedtime. We're lying there, and she asks me where I'm going to sleep. In my own bed, I say. I'm leaving after you fall asleep. (spoiling her right there; I know, I know.) No! She said. No! Stay here all night. Don't leave me. And of course, I'm feeling guilty for not having been home from Thursday to Tuesday. (not what I intended. Stupid United Airlines.)

I said, but Lizzy, you're never alone! God is always with you.
Expected 4-year-old response: He is? Really?? Wow. And then perhaps a follow-up question, such as: How do you know? Or, even at school? Or when I'm taking a bath? Or some such childlike comedy.

My child's response: "God's just pretend."

I'm trying to think of a moment when I've ever been so shocked. Or appalled, or felt like a worse parent. I'm still having a hard time coming up with something.

This came, mind you, about 15 minutes after she explained to me that she put an orange rubber bouncy-ball in a plastic egg that she'd just found among the detritus of our yet-to-be-stored moving stuff, so the Easter Bunny could have it when he comes bouncing along at Easter, to deliver all that candy that Lizzy so doesn't need.

Let's count up the score, shall we?
Easter Bunny: All taken care of.
God: Pretend.

In that moment, I remembered my boss telling me (tactfully, no doubt in answer to my direct questioning) that his family doesn't do Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Their logic: If you get kids used to the idea that you lie to them, especially pretending that these entities exist, then finding out they don't, there's no telling where they'll take that sort of thing. I pooh-poohed it because, frankly, I find Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny kinda fun. Also, we 'did' those things in my house -- the Tooth Fairy, too! (gasp!) -- and I consider myself none the worse for it.

I wonder now if I'm going about any of this the right way. We say grace over a meal, and we -- really, more I, not really Lizzy -- say prayers at night. But I say them in her presence, out loud, after asking if she has anything to say. (she never does.)
One thing I've been kinda rolling around in my head lately is that our church doesn't have a structured Sunday school type of system. It's not that we object to them in principle (at least, I think not) -- we have even formed a committee to think about it. But at this point, it would be about one kid (if that many) per age level. We're just a bit small and disparate, age- and opinion-wise, to be attempting it. I love the people in our church. I don't want to, nor do I really feel 'led' to, leave for a SUNDAY SCHOOL, of all things.
But I wonder if my daughter is going to suffer as a result. Or if I am (once again?) overreacting.

Still. Hearing your child say there is no God is something that might tend to be worth wigging out over. No matter what his or her age, I would think.

The more cynical might respond to this tale with a dismissive, "Well, that's what you get for being 'unequally yoked'!" And I'll grant that Matt is not a 'born-again Christian'. But he IS someone who believes -- deeply, I feel -- in God. In His existence, in His presence, in the sense that He cares what happens to us. Matt's hangup is in buying into a set of beliefs that excludes so many faithful and ardent believers in God, but not in Christ. That excludes so many from a happy afterlife. And I can see the logic in that. I don't happen to feel the same way, but I can see it.

So this is kind of just Lizzy, all on her own. As far as I can tell. I'm just trying to figure out where to go from here.
How do you explain God to a little kid, anyway? I've tried. But I don't think I did a very good job. Obviously.