I love the mountains, but I’ve learned to enjoy spending the day (or weekend) on the beach. One of the great things about it is watching the kids play. Last year, Whitney was talking to Debbie, and momentarily I heard Debbie utter those frightening words – “You’ll have to ask your dad about that.”
Uh oh. That’s usually preceded by some deep, cosmic question. (Where is God? What does He look like? How many grains of sand are on the beach?). Or worse – something about relationships with boys, or why boys are so weird.
So, she came to me and said “If trees produce oxygen for us to breathe, how can we breathe here at the beach where there are no trees?”