[Note: I'm sure there's a spiritual application to this story. But I haven't found it yet; feel free to supply one.]
Most Sundays immediately following worship, I take all the kids downstairs in the church building to discuss the sermon with them. This Sunday there were probably 25-30, who held themselves relatively still as we reviewed the worship service and the story of Paul's willingness to suffer for Christ's sake.
Toward the end of our discussion, I said, "Does anyone have any questions?" After answering one question, we sang and prayed and dismissed for more general merriment.
But I had noticed that, right before singing, our three-year-old John had broke down and was crying those big alligator tears he has the market on these days. So as soon as the discussion was done, I brought him up to me to find out what was troubling him. Really, he was crying hard enough that I figured someone had accidentally poked him in the eye.
But through the tears and sobs, I finally figured out that he had a question, too, and didn't get to ask it. So, feeling like a slightly horrible father, I immediately encouraged him to ask his question. It took several times for me to understand, but here's his question:
"Daddy, how do elephants snore?"
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