For those of you who have been keeping up with my trials and tribulations associated with raising a five year old boy, you'll appreciate this. Of course Big A KNOWS where God is, but it's cute, nonetheless.
Two little boys, ages 8 and 10, were excessively mischievous. They were always getting into trouble and their parents knew all about it. If any mischief occurred in their town, the two boys were probably involved.
The boys' mother heard that a preacher in town had been successful in disciplining children, so she asked if he would speak with her boys. The preacher agreed, but he asked to see them individually.
The mother sent the 8 year old first, in the morning, with the older boy to see the preacher in the afternoon.
The preacher, a huge man with a booming voice, sat the younger boy down and asked him sternly, "Do you know where God is, son?"
The boy's mouth dropped open, but he made no response, sitting there wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The preacher repeated the question in an even more stern tone, "Where is God?"
Again, the boy made no attempt to answer. The preacher raised his voice even more, shook his finger in the boy's face and bellowed, "Where is God?"
The boy screamed and bolted from the room. He ran directly home and dove into his closet, slamming the door behind him.
When his older brother found him in the closet, he asked, "What happened?"
The younger brother, gasping for breath, replied, "We are in BIG trouble this time! GOD is missing, and they think we did it!"
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