Why?

Why? Such a great question - so open ended with many possibilities. Sometimes we have an answer and sometimes we don't. With a five-year old in the house, I hear it at least 100 times a day.

This week, as part of our family's "staycation" we visited a dinosaur park in Ogden, UT. It featured a handful of traditional, indoor museum-type exhibits with fossils, but the main attraction was the outdoor portion, with models of various species of dinos in a natural environment, that you could discover around a corner or behind trees, etc. Our kids loved it of course.

The aforementioned five year-old asked the big question: Why did the dinosaurs become extinct? To which I answered, "Well, honey, scientists have many ideas about why it happened" and went on to explain the various theories, such as volcanic activity, an ice age, disease, climate change, etc. Then, I added, "But no one really knows except for Heavenly Father." To which he responded, "I'm going to ask him when I get back to heaven." LOVE him.

It got me thinking, as writers, we create the world, we provide the answers. Does this mean we have a God complex? No, (although I'm sure there are some that do) I would argue it means we like to consider the Why? in everything around us, and let our imagination dictate the possibilities. When you think of all the dino extinction theories, I believe every one of them has had a story told about it - not to mention Jurassic Park, which asserts dinosaurs do exist, on an island near Costa Rica.