Asking Questions Like a Child

I was looking at some old photos and videos on my laptop recently, and came across a video of my mum reading to my 1.5 year-old son on a visit to South Africa in 2019. It was heartwarming to see how comfortable and content he was simply sitting next to my mum as she explained many of the pictures he was trying to make sense.

Both our kids still love reading and being read to. Now they're older, bedtime picture books have been replaced by longer reads like The Boy at the Back of the Class by Onjali Q. Rauf (an excellent book!), The Usborne Book of Stars and Planets or Asterix & Obelix. They don't fully grasp every concept in those books yet, so there are often a lot of questions about why what Obelix said was funny, how we got the Mars Rover to Mars, or why bullies of all ages can be so mean to those less fortunate.

And I absolutely love those questions and the inevitable discussions that follow!

My son sometimes asks my daughter for help explaining something, and she will answer as best she could from her own understanding and experience. A lot of the times that is helpful, but sometimes it is not, because her experience might be different from the context my son is asking from. Or she may have a limited view of the bigger picture. Or sometimes her explanation is just plain wrong. Like my own is, often. I know a bit more than my kids do, but I certainly do not know everything.

So the question is: Who do we ask?

In my experience, I've noticed that we tend to ask those questions to folks we trust who may have more knowledge and experience than we do. Often we gravitate towards the answers and explanations we would like to be true or the ones we can agree with more easily, whether they're right or wrong. Sometimes we just like the person giving the answers, because they're nice or really convincing. And as helpful as those answers can be at times, it still remains a limited view of the bigger picture, and therefore, only half an answer at best. We'll be lying to ourselves and those we try to help if we thought or pretended we know it all...

So I started thinking: If I, a flawed father (who sometimes gets annoyed at being interrupted while reading to my kids), love how they trust me enough to ask about what they're hearing or reading, how much more does my Father in heaven (the perfect parent) appreciate, welcome, even long for, our questions when trying to make sense of the Bible, our relationships, or life in general?

And who better to ask those gnarly, big, impossible questions to than the Author and Sustainer of our lives? The One who holds the world in his hands, who knows us better than anyone (even ourselves), who loves us unconditionally, who longs to be with us in life's challenges and triumphs, and who wants to empower us to grow and develop and heal and understand better.

I wonder if Jesus's words in Luke 18:15-17 hints at exactly this: we're always welcome to come to Jesus, and therefore, always welcome to interrupt him with an honest question and a listening ear. The beauty of this passage is the reminder that there are not any "NO ACCESS" signs when it comes to talking to Jesus; even if people are trying to convince us that there are (like his disciples did...). Because of Christ's death and resurrection, we can freely approach him as we are with our worries, our questions, or just the need for a blessing. And that will never change on this side of eternity. So why not try it?

In the end, I can't remember what book my mum read to my son. I don't know what the date was, or how that book influenced his life (if at all). I do know, however, that I captured a little snippet of a relationship being built between a trusting toddler and a loving grandmother, willing to take the time and effort to show her love for him. And that kind of love, I think, is what we all need to experience.