My oldest daughter Kori feels comfortable talking to me about everything…everything. It’s something that I unequivocally cherish.
Lately, believe it or not, we’ve been discussing theology. Not in the traditional seminary sense, but rather in the “I-have-a million-questions-about-God-and-stuff, and-I’m-going-to-throw-them-at-you-all-at-once” sense.
Behold…a sampling of the deeply theological and highly spiritual questions from the astute mind of my babygirl:
- If God knows everything we’re going to do before we do it, isn’t life sort of like a reality show?
- Will you and Mom still be married in heaven?
- Will we be bowing our heads up and down the whole time we’re there?
- On the new Earth, will I be able to run track again?
- Will I still have to get my nails done, or will they just stay unbroken?
- Will I still be able to dress cute?
- Will we still have to use the bathroom?
Sola deo gloria, baby…sola deo gloria.
As irreverent as our “theological” discussion may sound to some, for me it was a breath of fresh air. I’m a huge proponent of sound theology, but being theologically sound doesn’t mean that you have to be imaginatively bankrupt.
I don’t believe that God sits in heaven frowning at us when we use our imaginations as a part of how we frame our theology. He gave us imagination for a reason, after all. To think of God (like many people unfortunately do) as some angry, stiff, uptight, boring old schoolteacher does a great injustice to the God who is actually depicted in the Bible.
So…I’m looking forward to the next “theological” discourse with my daughter. Should be interesting.