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By Michelle (Graceful, Faith in the Everyday)
"Last year I used to think that maybe I didn't believe in God, but now I know I do." He announces it at the dinner table, and I pause, a spoonful of lentil curry soup poised halfway to my mouth.
"You thought you didn't believe in God last year?" I ask, trying to keep my voice light and bouncy.
"Yeah, but I'm good now. I feel better again," my ten-year-old son Noah says.
"So what made you change your mind?" I ask, soup spoon still steady in mid-air. "How did you come back to believing in God again?" I need to know how he did this. I want to be reassured it won't happen again. I need to know that my son won't spend his childhood mired in fear and unbelief, like I did.
"I don't know. I guess I just sort of waited," he answers. "And then, after a while, I felt like I believed again."
There is much wisdom in that little-boy answer.