My son, during one of his incessant ramblings, suddenly stopped and looked askance at me and asked,’ Dad’ “how is God made up of”, Ever the metaphysical, that I am, this was surely, a blow below the’ you know where’.
I put on a brave face and said, Son, I will answer your question, give me time to organize my thoughts ,that was 6 months ago.
The little Devil is never tired of reminding me that, he is still awaiting the answer to one small question he has asked, and gleefully brings up the matter, just when I am boastfully settling myself in front of my friends about the high falutin’work that I do.
My quest is still continuing, I am totally at loss, as to where to start the quest.
Maybe, oneday he will realize that some questions can never be answered, until then, I will remain profoundly incompetent in his eyes.