Well, I know what God looks like!

A little boy with a tow-headed mop of hair and somber gray eyes looks up at me. I wiggle the magnet board of shooting stars and planets in front of him.

"Look, Adam*! We can play with the outer space magnets now! Which ones would you like? Oooh... look at the funny green alien."

He soberly shakes his head. He's already turned all the the magnets over, again and again. With a sigh, he looks up at me,

"There's no picture of God. It's outer space. There should be a picture of God."

I choke back an unholy shriek of laughter. "It would probably be pretty hard to draw a picture of God. He's so big, you know."

He shakes his little emphatic head, "No, I know what God looks like. They taught me in school."

I'm intrigued, and also wondering where this heretical (or amazing) school is located, "What does God look like, Adam? Tell me." (There's a speech therapy exercise for you!)

"Um... well... He's big... you know... and, uh... hmmm..." He stammers to silence.

There's a pause. He fiddles with the green alien before saying, "Um... well we could just play with the aliens..."



Apparently not even speech therapy can help you coherently describe God.



*name has been changed.