In Hope, In Belief, In Faith, Nonetheless

Often, I’m inwardly petulant.

I imagine the child–usually in the grocery store of all places–asking a question of his father. Every answer his father gives is met with the whiny moan ofWhy? Why? Why? Eventually the child ends up sprawled on the tile floor–usually ahead of me in line–kicking and screaming because he can’t know it all.

Yep, I’m that child.

I want to know how the stars are hung or why the earth goes round or, more importantly, why this life goes the way it does. “Why do bad things...