My children ask me things that I used to have answers to. “Where is [deceased person] now?” “Were Adam and Eve real?” “Why did Jesus ‘have’ to die?” “Who is God’s mom?” “Did God really kill all the firstborn sons in Egypt?” (thanks, Prince of Egypt, for that one… oops) But the questions didn’t come to me then, when I would have turned toward countless Christian-parent resources and colored pictures of Noah’s Ark and talked about how God is just and hates sin, but loves us. The questions come now when I have run almost entirely out of printable answers on which we can color inside bold black lines. I…
How Bonus Fries and Beagles Bring Me Home
I'm learning to claim my inheritance: a legacy of faith I knew before I un-knew it. I'm learning that I can't help but see the darkness, the broken pieces of what could be, but I don't have to see *only* that.
And Now We Have Questions
When was the last time I scooted over for Jesus to sit down? When did I stretch my hand out to hold his invisible one for the final grip? When did I stop assuming he was there and begin to wonder?
Faulty Faith and Fairy Tales
When an unshakeable faith in God is shaken.