Apparently, I like numbers. I count steps and stairs, I’ll create math problems when I see numbers. The odd thing is (about this, not me), I didn’t like math in school. I was alright with it until multiplying and dividing came up. I believe it was 4th grade when the dislike started in earnest.

It wasn’t enough that I had learned about whole numbers, they had to start taking parts of them away. They couldn’t even be straight with me on that, sometimes they used dots, other times flat lines and even slashes to tell me what was missing.

Don’t even get me started on the letters and conversions to metric.

It took me until yesterday to realize that is wasn’t math in and of itself I disliked. I still got along with numbers, it was those lines and dots that the teachers put in amongst them.

Before you think that I’m in worse shape than you thought, I know that math is important. I know those symbols are needed, otherwise, you end up with 2 2 4 instead of 2+2=4. I didn’t like math because it became more complicated over time, and I didn’t understand why I needed all that fancy math I had in high school. I will say this, square roots still don’t help me all that much. They don’t come up in conversations very often.

With that said, I think I disliked math because I was told I had to do it without seeing the point. I see that same attitude in me towards God. I buck what I know I should do because it doesn’t fit my perception on the right thing. I don’t know of my teachers could have explained the point in math, but I know God has a plan and a point. He may not explain it entirely, but it is there.