“Why is that car red?”

“Why is there a cat?”

“Why were there people on that other train?”

“Why did we stop at the station?”

And so on. What was incredible was the woman’s patience. She had credible answers for each question and did not lose her cool at all. If it had been me there would have come a time (quite soon) when the answer would be: “It just is, all right? Stop asking questions!” (Cue international parenting award!)

I wonder how God feels when we ask ‘Why’?

Why do things go wrong?

Why do bad things happen to good people?

Why me?

There are lots of very good questions that begin with the word ‘why’. We often ask the sort of question above when things are going wrong, when we feel low, when things are not as we would wish. Why don’t we ask the following questions?

Why are things going well?

Why do good things happen to good people?

Why someone else?

It seems to me that we are disingenuous when it comes to these sorts of question. We assume that when things go well we deserve it, but when they don’t it’s not fair. That’s not far off the attitude of a five-year-old who has just learnt that fateful sentence: “It’s not fair!” and applies it to every situation that they do not like.

Of course there are times when ‘why’ is exactly the correct question to ask – questions like:

Why is God interested in me?

Why is there a Universe in which I can live and thrive?

These are questions that go to the depths of who we are and why we exist, and the answers are spectacular in their profundity and relevance. And the wonderful thing is that God is even more patient with even our childish ‘why’ questions that that mum on the train.

Good questions

Why isn’t phonetic spelled the way it sounds?

Have you ever imagined a world with no hypothetical situations?

How does the guy who drives the snowplow get to work in the mornings?

If a cow laughed, would milk come out her nose?

If nothing ever sticks to TEFLON, how do they make TEFLON stick to the pan?

If you’re in a vehicle going the speed of light, what happens when you turn on the headlights?

You know how most packages say “Open here”. What is the protocol if the package says, “Open somewhere else”?

Why is it that when you transport something by car, it’s called a shipment, but when you transport something by ship, it’s called cargo?

You know that little indestructible black box that is used on planes, why can’t they make the whole plane out of the same substance?