Like most kids, I recall asking my parents “why” a lot. At times it may have been for the sake of learning or curiosity, but more often than not, it was an attempt to get out of something. Why do we have to go to the grocery store now?Why do I have to do that chore?Why can’t I do my homework later?
As an adult, that question can morph into asking God Why does my life look this way? Why did you make me this way, or allow certain limitations? Unlike having the relentless energy of a child, I’ve found this mode of asking, always comparing is quite tiring. And just like when I was a kid, it’s often an attempt to get out of something. Maybe by my asking, I can change God’s mind, right?
To that end, I’m coming out of a season of asking less…
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