"What does God eat?" Owen asked from the back seat of Homer, my affection name for our Honda Odyssey. You know how I love conversations in the car.
"Um, that's a good question." My standard stall to give me a second to think of an appropriate response. "I don't know that God needs to eat, but perhaps he eats because he enjoys all the flavors he made."
"What is God's favorite food."
"Um, that's a good question." I repeat. "You'll have to ask God that when you get to heaven."
From the back came the barely heard murmuring, "The best questions are the ones you can't answer."
What I’m reading: Helene Hanff - Yes, again. As I head into the home stretch of radiation (only three treatments to go!!), I’m feeling pretty wiped. I’m like a phone that won’t hold a char...
1 week ago