Questions

I love children.  Big ones and little ones.

 I’m not going to lie, I get a little iffy from 12-14, especially with girls (sorry, friend, I’m working on it) but the love is still there.  It may be buried deep beneath the repeated mantra “breathe breathe breathe breathe”.  Or “don’t say it, it won’t help”.   But really, the love is still there. 

I’ve always loved kids. 

I wanted to teach them. 

And then I wanted to have them. 

And I love it.  Everything about it.  Yes, everything.  Even the parts that suck, because I am a MOM.  And there was a time when that didn’t look like it was going to happen. 

One of the parts that I was warned about but you don’t really understand till you’re living it is THE QUESTIONS.  They are many and varied and can be absurd or so deep they take your breath.   

I’ve had to break up arguments about what a zombie or vampire can or cannot do. 

I’ve had to explain in a very public, not empty, bathroom that girls don’t need a penis to go potty.

I’ve had to try to explain the location of Heaven and that it’s okay if I don’t understand because God knows where it is. 

I try not to but yes, I’ve made stuff up before.  (But I really do try not to do that.  Really!)  Usually this involves a question about why we’re not doing something and I’m too tired to deal with the response to the real reason why.  “Because I don’t want to.”   

I’ve passed questions off on others. 

“How do boats float?”

“…I know it has something to do with surface tension and water displacement and weight but I’m not really sure.  Why don’t you ask Grandpa?  I bet he’d like to answer that for you.”

And I’ve said ‘I don’t know’ more times that I can count. 

And it can be hard.  And it can be embarrassing.  And it can be humbling.  But it is all important.  All of it. 

You may get lucky and your child brings up a question that leads to an important conversation. 

Like when my son came running in, throwing a question at my husband and I about communion. 

“Grace says that the bread and the wine in communion are…”

Grace (and her sister) are (some of) my kids’ Besties.  We live across the street from their awesome family and our children will play from dawn to dusk.  When the lock down happened, we sat our kids down and explained just why they weren’t going to be able to play together anymore.  There were some tears. 

And more questions. 

So when Tanner came running in, the first thing we did was tell him how happy we were and how cool it was that they were talking about this. 

And then we told him that churches may do things a little differently but that’s okay because when you’re a Christian, the most important thing is loving Jesus.  And then being kind to everyone.  (Pretty sure, I’ve read something close to that somewhere…)

Every time there’s a question like this, I take a deep breath and say a quick prayer.  I don’t want to mess it up.  Because I think we all can attest that a screwed up answer can screw up your kid.

Questions. Questions.  Questions.  All the time. 

We were designed to want to know.

And this to me is one of the saddest things about growing up.  We think we have all the answers.  And we accept the lie that ‘not knowing’ is bad.  Because we’ve all experienced the “how do you not know this??” statement.  I know I’ve been guilty of saying it.  A lot.  I bet you have too. 

We get sucked into the idea that as an adult we’re not supposed to ask questions anymore.  Because we could get proved wrong.  Or we could prove someone we love wrong.  Or we could have to change the way we eat.  Or cook.  Or drive.  Or talk to people.  Or LIVE. 

But it’s not enough to just ask the question.  You’ve got to ask it of the right source.  Pretty sure I’ve read another story of a human that asked questions after being given information that contradicted what she knew.  And asking the questions wasn’t the problem.  It was who she was asking them to.  And then trusting that answer OVER the truth.  Because she wanted it to be true. 

We need to be asking questions again.  Lots of them. 

So here’s your question for today:  What is Juneteenth? 

I had heard of Juneteenth living in Texas.  I had even asked what it was. 

But it didn’t hit home just how important it is, not just to the Black community, but to our country till THIS week.  And that’s not okay.  I shouldn’t have taken the information at face value when I asked.  I should have asked again.  I should’ve asked a friend. 

Yes, it would’ve been uncomfortable but it would’ve been GOOD.  It would have helped me KNOW.  To try and understand. 

I’m not going to answer the question what Juneteenth is.  Not because I don’t think I’m safe source but because you, we (white people), need to ask.  We need to know.  And then we need to celebrate it. 

NOT in a mocking way.  NOT in a “taking” it way.  NOT in a Pintrest way to “make it cute”.  NOT in a resigned way.

But acknowledge it to be a day of freedom. 

Acknowledge that TODAY the chance at life truly began for the ancestors of so many of our sisters and brothers.  The journey isn’t done.  Not by a long shot.  But starting today the word “FREEDOM” could be said out loud.  It could be spoken by those that were literally held in chains. 

I’m still asking questions.  I’m still learning.  I’m still educating myself and my family not only on how we can SEE this day but on how we move forward with it a part of our lives. 

QUESTIONS. 

Ask them.

Pray for answers.

Seek them out. 

I’m pretty sure I’ve read something too about what happens when you seek. 

May we reclaim the title of Seeker. 

And Happy Juneteenth!