"Mommy, what are we having for dinner?”
“Can I go play?”
“Why do caterpillars only like milkweed?”
“Why can’t I go play?”
“What are we doing tomorrow?”
“Why is Aunt Gertrude so loud?”
How many questions do you face each day? In a house full of curious, imaginative, intelligent children—I figure 957 easy. If you asked me if I thought questions were good, I’d answer, “Of course! Questions help children learn.” If you asked my children if I thought questions were good, I’m not so sure they’d have the same answer. I say I want our children to ask questions, yet I don’t always respond patiently to the endless torrent. Why are questions so good in theory but so hard in reality?

Selfishness. The hard, cold truth is that my most impatient responses stem from pure selfishness. Like most parents, I’m pushed on all sides. I rarely feel that my day is my own. Instead, I have an endless list of chores to do, deadlines to meet, and needs to address. When a question has a ready response that doesn’t require too much thought, I’m typically OK. I can answer on the fly and keep moving through my day. But for those questions where I don’t know the answer and it will take some investment on my part to puzzle through or go find the answer, I sometimes shut my child down. Rather than focus my limited time and energy on figuring out a good answer to my child’s questions, I’d rather use those resources to make a dent in my list. Not a great strategy.

When I see my child’s question as an opportunity to set aside my agenda and focus on what’s important to her, I grow in my ability to be selfless. I develop a better sense of how to take the focus off me and what I’ve deemed necessary and instead focus on what is important to those around me. Sure most of my list was already focused on those around me, but I created the list and its order. When I choose to expend energy responding to my child, I say in a very real way that their list matters, too. That both affirms my child and diminishes the selfishness in me.

Pride. Again, if I can readily respond, I typically don’t mind questions. When the answer isn’t automatic, I tend to shut down the questions. As I analyze why, I have to acknowledge that I don’t like admitting to not having an answer. This denies my children one of the most important lessons of all—humility.
To freely acknowledge that I don’t have all the answers comforts my children. They are still at the age when they think I’m pretty cool. It reassures them to know cool people don’t have to know everything. They can feel fairly competent now with only some answers. Moreover, when I admit I don’t know a particular answer and go look for it; I teach them how to go get the answers they need. We become a team working together which creates a special bond. A bond I would miss if my pride kept shutting their questions down.

Agenda. As a homeschooling mom, I have seemingly endless time to spend with my children. One would think this is a perfect environment for questions. And it should be. Yet, most homeschooling moms are terribly frightened of missing some key teaching our children must have to survive in the world. So, we treat our curriculum as gospel and live in terror of failing to complete a day’s list of subjects. Questions distract horribly from that list. They interrupt. They lead down bunny trails. They hijack conversations. It’s just much more efficient when children sit quietly and simply listen as I get us through the lessons of the day. Efficient but ineffective.

I have to remember that our family’s job is to develop each child into the unique person God made them to be. Questions aren't an interference—they are a prime tool in that role. When I can back away from my agenda and refocus on the purpose of my agenda, to train up my children in the unique path God created for them, I can take a breath and follow the bunny trails of questions down the path they need to go. When I do that, I begin to see how God pulls me from my agenda and gets us all onto His agenda.

Questions force me to focus on what is important to my children rather than me. Questions force me to be humble in front of my children thereby teaching them how to be humble. Questions force me to listen for God’s agenda rather than clinging to my own. Instead of overwhelming distractions, my children’s questions have become—not only a great way for them to learn—but a 957 opportunities a day for me to become a more selfless, humble, listening mom.