Walking through dead animals.

Or, how my son's toy garbage truck became a lesson in God's faithfulness.

My son, Jack, walked up to me with a big smile on his face.

“Daddy, how do you write $25 and 10 cents?”

“Well, buddy, can you tell me why you want to know that?”

“I’m selling some of my old toys,” he said.

“Which ones?” I asked.

“My old garbage truck. It’s a little broken, but I’m going to sell it anyway.”

“Well, bud, I don’t think anyone is going to buy a broken toy. And I don’t think they’ll buy it for that much money. That’s kinda a lot,” I said.

“Just let me do it!” He said in exasperation. “OK!?”

“OK, bud. You can try. But it’s also really cold out and if you set up a toy stand I don’t think people are going to be passing by.”

“I just want to do it, OK?” he pleaded, changing his tone a little.

“OK, bud. Good luck. Love you.”

That was our conversation Sunday afternoon. And sure enough, my son did go ahead and set up a stand with his old toys hoping to raise money for God knows what. And sure enough—just like I said—he didn’t sell his broken garbage truck for $25.10.

[If you’re a pay…