We were sitting in the car, eating drive-thru fries.

Just another average day.

And out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you think God’s mad at me?”

I felt the lump in my throat instantly.

This wasn’t a behavior question.

This was a heart cry.

I took a breath and said,

“No, buddy. Not even close. God’s not mad at you — He’s madly in love with you. And so am I.”

He didn’t say anything else.

But he looked out the window and nodded — like maybe he believed it… even just a little.

That conversation reminded me why this work matters.

It’s not just about parenting — it’s about pastoring.

Not with sermons, but with fries and quiet answers to big questions.

And I think about that day often.

Because if nothing else, I want my kids to grow up knowing:

God isn’t distant.

God isn’t angry.

God is with them.

And so am I.