I was in the shower the other day when I heard that song that ponders what if God were one of us? On the radio. If you could ask God just one question, what would be? I started to answer, and then changed my mind. Really, just one? I’ve been thinking about this for two days and I still can’t come up with just one question. I have requests. Comments, even, but one question that I would want to hear God’s answer to? That’s a little risky. It reminds me of that Monty Python sketch, where you either crossed the bridge over the chasm or were thrown to your death based on your answer to a simple question. “What’s your favorite color?” The poor guys says “Red… no blue.” And down he plummets. I didn’t get to hear the astronaut speak in Haines the other night, it was sold out, and Fireman Al said no more people could fit in the building. My friend Tom went, and he said the audience only had four questions for one of the 12 people in the world ever to have walked on the moon. And Tom didn’t remember what they were. Sometimes, maybe all the time, it’s the questions we ask that teach more than the answers, which is probably why a good question is so hard to find.
