Nothing helps you realize just how much you don’t know like a child’s questions. The approximately 1,200 daily queries from my ten-and-under set certainly keep me on my toes. If your role in life has brought you anywhere near young children, I’m sure you know what I mean.
My kids tend to ask their most philosophical questions after we’ve said our bedtime prayers and I’m on my way out of the room.
“Mom? What if you wake up tomorrow and realize you’ve been asleep for seventy-five years and your whole life has been a dream?”
“Hey, Mom? Do you think there’s Chick-Fil-A in heaven?”
“Mom! If I tell God a joke, do you think he’ll laugh?”
One night we were talking about the upcoming Easter weekend. I explained Maundy Thursday, when Jesus and his disciples shared the Last Supper and Jesus was arrested. We talked about Good Friday and all the events of that sad day when Jesus died on the cross. Then we wrapped up with the celebration of Resurrection Sunday when Jesus conquered death and rose from the grave.
“But, Mom? You talked about Thursday, Friday, and Sunday. What about Saturday? What happened that day?”
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