(This post is a bit more philosophical than most . . . enjoy . . . )
Once Gemma
passed her third birthday, it was like a switch flipped on in her little mind
and everything was “why?” Her little cousin who is ten months older had
gone through exactly this stage and it was kind of funny to see Gemma mirroring
her so precisely. It was also a bit
annoying, to be honest! “Why is it Tuesday?” “Why is her name ___?” The worst moments
came when I would try to curtail the questioning by including the reason in my
statement to begin with, and it was as if it didn’t matter one bit. “We’re going to hold hands to be safe.” “Why?”
“To be safe. That was the reason.” “Why?”
I thought I’d mentally prepared myself for the “Why is the sky blue?” stage, but
I was finding these questions not only baffling but wearing. I wanted to honor her curiosity with answers,
though there were times when we just had to put a stop to it. Some of the questions got me thinking,
though, and ended up being very beautiful.
I remember
the day at the dinner table that Gemma first asked “Why do we say ‘in Jesus name’ when we pray?” After some thought, John came up with this catechistic
response: “Well, Gemma, there are three
reasons really. Can you repeat them
after me? The first is that God is very
holy. The second is that we are not
holy. And the third is that Jesus brings
our prayers to God.” After that, she
would often ask “Why do we pray in Jesus’
name?” and I think it was just so that she could hear this simple doctrine
reinforced.
“Please
keep your teacups on the carpet, so they won’t break on the tile. “Why?”
“Carpet is soft, and if the teacups fall, they will probably be fine. But the tile is very hard and could break
your teacups if they fall on it.” “Why is
carpet soft?” Sometimes when the question “why?” seemed pointless, I’d be
tempted to respond with “It just is.
There isn’t really a reason.” Usually it started with a “normal”
three-year-old “why?” and the string just continued as she questioned every
answer. But our three-year-old had
stumbled into world-view stuff, and I’m thankful that my mathematical side
started to resurface in answers like this: “Some things are true by definition. You can’t prove anything without starting
somewhere, without assuming a few basic facts.
We start with the assumptions that God exists and that He has revealed
Himself to us in His Word.” At this
point, John would start to roll his eyes because my words were clearly over
Gemma’s head. But they are principles of
reasoning which I hope will stick with her when she is older.
Other
times, our conversations went more like this:
“Why is Snow White’s dress blue on
the top and yellow on the bottom?” “Well,
Gemma, that’s because whoever drew her like that—probably Walt Disney—decided
that those would be nice colors for her dress.”
“Why?” “Well, I don’t know, but the one who designs
something gets to choose! When you draw
your own pictures, you get to decide what they will look like.” But there was something deeper here than drawing. The
one who designs gets to choose. She
gets to decide on the ins-and-outs of what she designs. He gets to make the rules for His
creations. This is not only a logical
conclusion, but it is also underscored in the Bible in such passages as Romans
9.
As I
ponder the major internal struggles of our culture today, I think that this
concept lies at the root. As a nation,
we’ve hallowed “freedom of choice” from the very beginning. I’m not saying that this is entirely wrong;
it led to a nation free from the tyranny of Britain and look how many incredible
things have happened in this unique, prosperous country to this day. But I think that we have our major struggles
because some value freedom of choice higher than God and His designs for us. Usually we get along all right because most
people will stomp on the inclinations of their hearts if acting on them would
harm someone else. (We basically all
agree that cruelty is wrong, right?) But
some of us also believe that God created us, and the one who designs gets to
choose. He gives us the freedom to make
choices, which is great, but He also has a guidebook—and it is so much more
than a guidebook; it is the great story of His plan to rescue His people from
sin through the blood of Jesus Christ—but it is a guidebook nonetheless. He tells us in His book that the tiniest
human being has been knit together by His loving hand and is known to Him, and
that’s why some of us counter “a woman’s right to choose” with “well, wait a
minute, you can’t choose if you’re hurting someone else.” The Designer set the laws of science, physics
and mathematics into place, and what a joy it is to discover them. The Designer put together our bodies and gave
us a thirst for knowledge. He made the
rules for morality, and how we spend some of our money, and for sexuality, and
told us, “No, you don’t get to choose that, either. I’ve already chosen how it works best and you
need to trust Me.” To assert otherwise
is just as silly as trying to tell Walt Disney that Snow White’s dress should
be all blue, and Mickey should have been a bear instead of a mouse.
This
brings us back to the teacup question--what we rely on as our basic
presuppositions. You may choose not to
believe in the Creator and Designer God, and instead answer these questions
with “There isn’t really a reason.” Many
do. I think however, that if you apply
this principle consistently, you will find yourself in a world of nihilism,
which is hardly a satisfying one. Personally, I’m thankful that we humans have
a limited freedom of thought and choice, and that our Holy Father has not left us
to ourselves and our own devices. The
work of creation scientists has never held more significance in my
understanding.
Now Gemma
is four, and I’m relieved that the unending “why’s?” have settled down a
bit. I’m also thankful for what I
learned through that season: sometimes
it is helpful and beautiful to ask those inane simple questions because of the
basic truths that come to the surface when I think hard enough about the
answers. Praise God that there are
answers, even when I don’t understand them.
