Why is the sky blue? Why are the trees’ green? Where do baby puppies come from? Why is my hair yellow? Why am I a boy and you are a girl? Riding in the car with a chatty two year old can be quite amusing. One sunny summer day my young son and I were out for a car ride, we had been in the car for maybe 5 minutes when the questions began.
“Mommy?” It was the sweet voice of my two year old from the back seat.
“Yes dear?” I replied.
“What is that?” he asks.
“What is what dear?” I said as we were traveling down the road at fifty five miles per hour and he is pointing out of his window in the back seat.
“That tall thing, there are lots of them.” There is agitation in his voice, after all I’m supposed to know what he is talking about, and I should have used the eyes in the back of my head to see what he is pointing at.
“Do they have green tops?” I ask, hoping against hope he was talking about all the trees’ lining the highway.
“Yes, they do have green tops.” He said.
“Those are trees dear. “I was happy to realize it was indeed the trees he was pointing to. I had located the object of interest this time and was happy to have found it so promptly.
“Why is it a tree?” He wants to know. He is sincerely interested in this topic, how I love his curious mind.
“God made it a tree,” I’m happy to answer, after all, he couldn’t argue that point.
“Why did God make it a tree?” Great, it was a response he could argue. What was I thinking? He is two he can argue any point.
“He knew we would need them, son,” came my unacceptable answer
“Why do we need them?” he ask.
“God made them to help produce the air we breathe. We also cut them down sometimes for the wood furnace to keep the house warm in the winter.” Again very pleased with my answer, surely this would satisfy him.
His response was an acceptable, “Oh!”
We possibly had three minutes of silence when the next round of questions began and we started talking about why the sky is blue.
Our trips in the car were always full of these answer and question sessions. I’ve always been astonished at how many questions a child can ask.
I realized early on that small children are question machines. It’s how they grow mentally and learn about the world around them.
After raising four children the one question they never ask me was “Is Jesus real?”
They never felt a need to question Him or His love for them. How I wish the children could have stayed in that mental age where Jesus was good and it wasn’t questioned. Where others didn’t try to make them believe He wasn’t real. To have protected them from teacher that told them we are evolved apes.
The Bible says unless we have the faith of a child we won’t enter heaven.
My children were beautiful teachers on that topic. There was no need to question God or Jesus. They made us, they were good and they loved us, what else did they need to know.
I strive daily to be like my children were when they were young; to never question what I know is true. To have the faith that God is there and looking out for us and that He loves us so much that His own son was crucified to save us from our sin.
To know that God longs to fellowship with us on a daily basis, my children knew this, accepted it and didn’t question it.
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