I remember when my son Zeke hit age two and started hammering me with 743 questions a day.

He’s seven now, and he hasn’t stopped yet.  I hope he never does.

Let’s take just one morning as an example.  On an ordinary school day, before breakfast was even finished, he had prodded me to explain:

  • proper flag folding technique
  • the branches of the U.S. military
  • modernism and postmodernism
  • the advantages and disadvantages of different methods of weeding.

On a recent hike he probed all the way through everything I know about genetic engineering, hybrid corn, Monsanto, and algae growth.  Out of the blue he’ll throw out, “How would you rewire a digital clock so some of the dots in the numbers didn’t light up?” or “When can we go to Yellowstone Park?” or “Who lives in that big cemetery?”

I often remind myself, this is how he expresses love.  He asks questions because that’s his favorite way to spend time with me and know me better.

I want to express my love to God in the same way—questioning the world not just to know it better, but also to be near him and know him better as he answers. 

Zeke is an expert in spotting mysteries.  What if we all went through life with that kind attentiveness to mystery, and that eagerness to learn?  What if we were as humbly aware of all we didn’t know?

As a teacher, I would so much rather have students who approach the world like Zeke.  I have no problem answering tough questions with, “That’s a great question, and I’m not the one to answer it.  Let’s talk about it together, or do some research on it, and see what we find.”

God doesn’t have the problem of not knowing the answers to our questions, but he doesn’t always just spit back easy questions our way either.  I believe God loves to hear us ask questions and then walk with us on a journey of answering them.

Too often we already assume we already know enough—we’re passed out of school and are done with learning, or God would be annoyed if we tried to ask more of him.

But at the roots of his being, God is the source of understanding and wisdom.

The book of Job says it poetically (28:12-28):

But where can wisdom be found?
Where does understanding dwell?
 No mortal comprehends its worth; it cannot be found in the land of the living.
The deep says, “It is not in me”; the sea says, “It is not with me.”
 It cannot be bought with the finest gold, nor can its price be weighed out in silver.

God understands the way to it and he alone knows where it dwells, for he views the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens.

When he established the force of the wind and measured out the waters, when he made a decree for the rain and a path for the thunderstorm, then he looked at wisdom and appraised it; he confirmed it and tested it.

And he said to the human race, “The fear of the Lord—that is wisdom…”

Go ahead, dare to ask questions this week.  Look around and notice what you do not know, and have fun getting to know God better as you ask.