Do you ask God questions? My son Korbin has a friend named Hollis. The two have forged a friendship despite communication issues, specifically that my son doesn’t talk much. Hollis is undeterred. While Korbin uses few functional words, he can talk constantly. He can recite books, movies, commercials, facts, and scenes from his mind, not always in English. However, he does not engage in conversation very often.
“He answered them, “I also will ask you a question. Now tell me…” Luke 20:3 ESV
The King of Questions
Hollis has no such issue. He talks all the time, and this has been a pretty cool thing for us to see. Hollis verbalizes things that help us understand how our son may be looking at situations. He also asks questions in bulk. Hollis will Facetime me and ask, “Do you have any ice cream sandwiches?”. If I say no, he will suggest that I get some. If I say yes, he hangs up. Information gained.
On one visit to our house, he just asked, “Did you guys clean before I came over? It’s a mess.” That young man doesn’t have a single negative thought in his mind. He was stating a fact; our house was kind of messy that day.
One of my favorites happened a couple of weeks ago. Hollis had a doctor’s appointment, and after a bit, the doctor asked if he had any questions. Straight faced and wondering, he asked, “If you do a backflip off of a building and land on a UPS truck, what would happen?” Highly trained, the doctor asked him, “How fast is the truck going?” Hollis answered, “Fast.” The doctor’s reply was, “It doesn’t look good, buddy.”
Do We Ask God Questions?
I know people who ask a lot of questions. Sometimes I ask a lot of questions. Hollis has reinforced the concept of not complicating life. He needs information. I say, bring it on. I’ll gladly answer every question he can muster while always hoping that my son will one day ask more. I’ll have that hope for the rest of my life, and I am willing to wait.
Growing up, we were not taught to question God. We did not question our parents much either; well, Sally did but not the rest of us. She pulled my parents kicking and screaming into the 20th century. That made my life easier. I remember thinking that if I had a question, it might be wrong. Please understand, I do not think of that as having hindered me at all. It was just the way it was, and I would not change a lot about how I grew up. I used to wonder things like after Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, how long did he live? Why do we need mosquitoes?
The Majesty of God
The older man in me wonders if my parents would be proud of me, still. I wonder if God is. I wonder why my dad had Alzheimer’s, and my son has Autism. Those two conditions are strikingly similar. What am I supposed to learn from both of them? I wonder when I get to heaven if all of the questions I have will be answered. I wonder if I will still have questions. After all, when I am standing in the presence of my Savior, will any of them matter? I have this picture in my mind of God. I think He always hopes I will ask Him more, even though I may not understand the answer. He will answer some and love me through the rest. He, too, is willing to wait.
Author: Rick Claiborn
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