I’ve been thinking about truth.
I recalled a story from a few years back about my cousin and her precocious four-year-old daughter. At the time, Mom was emphasizing the importance of always telling the truth. Seems like a simple, straightforward concept, right?
After one particular heart-to-heart, the young philosopher got that look that said there was something spinning around in her brain.
“Mom, Jesus always told the truth, didn’t He?”
“Of course He did, sweetie.”
“Mom, didn’t they kill Jesus because He told the truth?”
Learning what’s right is tough enough.
Age four is awfully young to understand the courage required to do the right thing.