The first time I questioned something about God, I was about 16 years old. My mum turned around, eyes blazing, as though actual flames would come out and burn me alive and said with a tone so deep and actually a bit sinister, ” Don’t you question God, it’s a sin!!!!!!!”. Her finger pointing at me.
Hmmm… that answer just didn’t seem satisfying, so I gently asked, “why is it a sin?”. Again, eyes almost exploding, “Because it is, it is a sin, you don’t question God!!!!”.
Ok. But that didn’t quench my curiosity. So I poked the bear a bit more, I asked, “Who said it was a sin?”. To that my mum turned, I was quick to step back and missed the slap, but couldn’t get out of earshot quick enough as she yelled for me to go away and stop asking stupid questions.
My questioning mind about why God did things returned to its hibernating state. It remained there for a while until i felt it, that itch. So we know from my earlier experience who I couldn’t ask.
Things were happening around me and God was involved. These things were just not making sense. My itch was still small, it hadn’t taken energy to evolve into the creature that it is today.
So in my imaginary world, I thought why couldn’t I just sit down with God, have a coffee, and chat.
Having a Coffee With God 
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