“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your religion?” I (Kimberly) had just happened to run into Mary on the playground one hot August morning. Mary’s son and Eloise were in the same kindergarten class together. We had had a few conversations about faith in general throughout the school year, but nothing in depth. After some small talk, Mary dropped this question. “I don’t mind at all!” I replied, though if I’m honest, I was really nervous about how this conversation was going to go. I offered up a quick “Lord, help me!” prayer and listened. “What are Christians doing about systemic injustices and racism in our country?” “How do you view the LGBTQ+ community in light of what the Bible says?” “I’m gay. Do you think that I shouldn’t be allowed to have children?” “What is your church like?” “What does Jesus have to say about women?” These were her questions (and not even all of them!). In that moment. though feeling overwhelmed, I was so grateful that Jesus gave me such compassion for Mary. Under her questions, I could sense a lot of hurt. A lot of anger. and most of it directed at Christians, not at God Himself. As we continued to chat she said that Christians had never seemed like safe people to talk to, but because she thought I had a “kind soul” (by God’s grace alone!) she waned to bring her torrent of questions to me. I thanked her for being so open with me and encouraged her to read the Bible itself to find a loT of answers to her questions. She gave me a hug as we parted ways. And I offered up a huge “Thank you, Jesus” prayer and walked home.