So last night Jen sent me on a Craigslist quest.

I was tasked with the mission of bringing home a Mosquito Magnet.  This device purports to lure, trap and eliminate the blood sucking insects that rule our yard with impunity during the warmest months.  Time and a trial run will tell if it delivers.

Addy agreed to come with me on this errand.  The seller told my wife that we were about a half an hour apart.  In reality it was 45 minutes.

And the last two were spent bouncing down a dirt road full of holes- past trailers that looked like the rust was about all that was holding them together.

My first thought: “This does not look promising.”

My second thought: “Hope they don’t mistake me for a ‘revenuer’ or think I’m after the family still.”

Gotta love rural NC.

Daylight was fading rapidly.  I couldn’t read the trailer numbers.  I was 30 seconds away from calling it quits.

Then I spotted the house.  Yes- a real, honest to goodness house on a road full of shanties.

And as luck would have it, the inhabitants were the sellers of the coveted mosquito magnet.

After confirming that I had all the parts, forking over the cash, and having the seller try to convince me that our church should stop being non-denominational and join the Southern Baptist Association (SERIOUSLY)- I pretended to hear Addy calling me from the van and politely bailed.

After a 2 minute bounce back to the paved world, Addy and I settled in to enjoy the remaining 43 minutes of our journey home.

Then the questions started.

Addy is a curious, intelligent kid who likes to learn.  So I’m used to fielding her questions.

But this time there was something different.  Maybe it was the setting sun, our recent escape from the shotgun wielding locals, or the afterglow of our Craigslist score- but something special was happening in our Honda.

Addy started asking me questions about God.

She wondered what her friend Natalie (who passed away when she was 2) was doing with Jesus today.

She inquired as to precisely why God chose to make us and our world.

She wanted to know what happened to the people who died in the great flood.

She asked why Jesus had to die.  And wanted to know how the mean people killed Him.

She puzzled on what our new bodies would be like after we left our old ones here.

These weren’t the challenges of a skeptic.  Or the theories of an intellectual. Or the deflections of a spiritual avoider.

These were earnest questions infused with the essential essence of childlike faith.

And they were sweet.

During those 43 minutes, our faith in God seemed more alive than it had the rest of the day- even though we’d been to church that morning and had a great time with our faith community.

The simple words I shared seemed much more consequential than the thousands I prepare most weeks for our church’s weekend teachings.

Especially as we talked about heaven.  What it would be like.  That there wouldn’t be any more crying or pain.  And that whoever went there first would wait for everyone else in our family to come too.

While Addy and I acknowledged that the timing of all of that is up to God- we both hoped that we’d get to stay here on earth together for a long, long time.

Good talk baby girl.

Thanks for letting me teach you about God while you teach me about faith.

Love you!

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