“Daddy, why do you have splinters in your face?”

After a long day of travel my face was showing an unshaven shadow of stubble. We boarded our flight when my daughter Rachel, who was about four at the time, began staring intently at my whiskers.

“Daddy,” she finally asked, “why do you have splinters in your face?”

It was one of those beautiful moments of childlike curiosity, wonder, and simplicity that makes a parent smile. D’Aun heard her question too, but she had to look away from me to avoid both of us breaking out in laughter. Knowing it was a sincere question, I said to Rachel, “Honey, those aren’t splinters. They are short little hairs growing on my face called whiskers. If I didn’t shave them off I’d have a beard, kinda like Santa Claus only not so white.” Rachel smiled at that image and was completely content with the answer, so she went back to her coloring book.

D’Aun and I smiled at each other, once again amazed at Rachel’s wonder for life, and once again reminded of our love for our baby girl.

Well, our baby girl has a birthday this week so I wanted to share this story. She has been a joy and inspiration to so many, especially her parents and little brother.

But I wanted to share one more thought about this “splinters in my face” story.

My church just started a sermon series titled “You Asked For It.” The church polled people to find out what questions about Christianity were most commonly asked, and then the church built the sermon series around the five most common questions. They are:

• Why do Christians believe Christianity is the only religion that can be true?
• Why do bad things happen to good people?
• How does prayer work? Why do some prayers get answered and others don’t?
• How could a loving God send people to hell?
• Does belief in a Creator mean evolution is impossible?

Good questions. Difficult questions. The church is to be applauded for tackling them.

However (and you knew that was coming, didn’t you?) I couldn’t help but wonder what God thought of these questions. Isn’t it entirely possible that He hears these questions, chuckles a little bit with the angels, and then smiles down at us the way I did with Rachel? Couldn’t it be that these questions seem childlike to God? Isn’t it reasonable that an omniscience God would look at His much loved servants and be amused by the incorrect assumptions in our questions?

We have to hold these questions with humility. We should be cautious about the legitimacy of the questions themselves, for perhaps they are as misinformed as Rachel asking about splinters in my face. Further, the answers might give us tools to put the answers into a structure our limited capacity can comprehend, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we have even a partial understanding of the answers.

Now don’t get me wrong — I’m all for asking these questions. In fact, I think God loves it when we ask them, even if what we ask is miscalculated. In the same way I smiled when Rachel asked about my splinters, God undoubtedly smiles when we ask about … well, perhaps almost anything. He loves us dearly, far more than I love Rachel (which is impossible for me to comprehend), so even our silliest questions bring Him delight.

So ask the questions. But at the same time, if there’s something about God and faith you struggle to understand, take a deep breath. Relax. Maybe, just maybe, you are asking the wrong questions. Keep asking them, but be content in not having the answers. Live in childlike wonder and trust. And enjoy the coloring book.