She asks her hardest questions at bedtime, when we flop open the pages of Scripture atop her flowered quilt.
We flip through pages of her Bible, rustling like onion skins between our fingers. We land on the story of David and Goliath, and I read aloud the story of a heroic boy who felled a giant with one smooth stone.
In the bluish light of her bedside lamp, I can see on her face what’s coming next. She wears the hard questions in her knitted brow and tilted head.
“Mom?” she asks. “Why would God think it’s OK to kill Goliath? Isn’t all murder wrong?”
I’ve been a modern-day Thomas. I also know the pain of silent questions. And I’m talking about them today over at The High Calling. Will you join me over there by clicking here? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
P.S. — I cannot thank you enough for your kind words, your prayers, your emails, your phone calls and your love to us during these tough days. You are God-Lights here in the valley. Thank you.