When he was four years old, he asked a lot of questions. Or, I should say, he asked the same question a lot of times. Wide-eyed, anticipating a sensible answer, he would look at me as though I held all knowledge, ready to serve it to him in response to his every, "Why?" And I did my best to answer his simple questions in terms he could understand. If he'd just sat still long enough.
That was back when his dad and I were nearly as smart as God in his big, brown eyes. Back when a kiss could make it better and sadness could be washed away with a sippy cup of juice. Back when the world could be conquered from atop training wheels and world peace was threatened only by inevitability of a good, soapy bath.
At age ten, his questions are now more sophisticated. "How do we know for certain if someone else is saved? When is God coming back? Didn't God tell Adam and Eve about Satan? Why do some people know how powerful God is, but still refuse to obey Him?" And I do my best to help him find answers in verses, sometimes failing and admitting, "I don't know."
Touched by three deaths and the debilitating illness of a child in the past week, my prayer list is long. Or, I should say, it's short since it includes only one question, "Why?" I look heavenward, wide-eyed, anticipating a sensible answer from the One who does hold all knowledge. He hands me His Word to answer me in terms I can understand. If I just sit still long enough.
He never says, "I don't know."
When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
1 Corinthians 13: 11-12
Carol's blog can be found here.