My youngest daughter just turned two. I generally LOVE two year-olds. I’ve always thought the combination of spunk, adorable speech, and sweet snuggles can’t be beat.

And yet.

My daughter is in this phase where she asks the same question over and over. As soon as we get in the car, it starts.

“Where Daddy go?”
"Where sisters go?”
“Where Mommy go?” (As I’m driving, answering her questions. Sheesh.)
“Where Geema go?”
“Where Gammie go?”
"Where Unka Deenny go?”

I mean, it’s cute at first. I love that she lists some of her favorite people, one by one, and asks for an update. But then it’s not cute anymore. Because it’s all day. Every day. For weeks.

She’ll ask where Daddy is, then breathe for a minute, then ask again. It’s like her little brain is stuck on a loop. Like her mouth starts talking but then she’s like, “Oh shoot, I’m saying words but I don’t really know what I’m saying” so she goes with an old favorite. “Where Daddy go?” In the big picture, it’s totally endearing, but in the moment, it gets a little old.

The other day I was driving, working on my patience, telling her that once again, where Daddy is. On the outside, my answer was, “He’s at work.”

On the inside, my answer went like this, “Sweetie, Daddy’s still at work. He was at work a few minutes ago, and he’ll be at work for several more hours, until he walks in the door at the house. You’ll know when he’s not at work anymore. It’s not that hard to remember, it’s not that hard to understand.”

And then I had one of THOSE moments where I realized I do the same thing.

“What’s the plan, God?”
“Are you leaving me here again, God?”
“Why is it so hard, God?”
“You’re not really asking that of me, are you, God?”
“Don’t I know better, God?”

I realized that I ask short-sighted, repetitive questions like this all the time. My questions may be slightly more sophisticated, but they’re also laced with an impatience my daughter’s don’t carry.

And yet, God’s patience with me is unending.

Like my daughter, I want to know what’s going on, where everyone is, and what we’re doing here at all times. I want all the answers, because the alternative requires trust and belief, and both of those mean I have to let go of control.

But as I watch myself answer my daughter, and think about the wealth of knowledge I have, versus the limited understanding she has, I find a little comfort. Because the same is true when I hurl my questions at the God who sees.

My limited understanding is covered by who He is –- all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful, and good.


Kristi James is a writer, church planter’s wife, and mom to three pretty spectacular little girls. Find her on IG and Twitter at @kristenannjames and check out her blog And Babies Don’t Keep for more.