A pastor confronted a mischievous youngster, repeatedly asking, “Where is God?” The boy’s sudden panic and flight home, where he declared that God was missing, serves as a vivid illustration of how a guilty mind can twist even neutral questions into perceived accusations.
Two brothers, notorious for stealing and causing trouble in their neighbourhood, exhausted their parents after countless attempts at discipline. In desperation, the parents sought spiritual counselling from their local [Pastor](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christian_pastor) as a last resort.
The pastor arranged separate one‑on‑one sessions, beginning with the younger sibling. He sat across a large wooden desk, the silence in the room growing heavy as minutes stretched on.
After an extended pause, the pastor looked directly into the boy’s eyes and asked, “Where is God?” The child offered no reply, merely blinking and shifting in his seat.
Undeterred, the pastor repeated the question with firm resolve: “Where is God?” The boy remained silent but began to sweat, visibly shaken by the gravity of the interrogation.
Frustrated by the boy’s refusal to engage, the pastor raised his voice, slammed his hand on the desk and shouted, “For the last time, boy, I ask you: Where is God?”
Startled, the boy leapt from his chair, bolted past the pastor and ran home without looking back. He raced up the stairs two at a time and burst into his older brother’s room, panting and slamming the door shut.
“We are in big trouble!” he gasped. The elder brother, concerned, asked, “What’s wrong?”
In a hushed, desperate whisper, the younger sibling replied, “God is missing, and everyone—including the pastor—thinks we stole Him! I know I didn’t, but did you?”
The humorous anecdote underscores a deeper truth: when one’s hands are dirty, even an innocent query feels like an accusation, and the mind reacts with paranoia and flight.
According to Uthman Dan Fodio, conscience is an open wound that only truth can heal. The biblical proverb [Proverbs 28:1](https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+28%3A1) echoes this, stating that the wicked flee when no one pursues them, while the righteous stand bold as a lion.
The essay draws parallels with the teachings of [Paul the apostle](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_the_Apostle), who advocated for a spotless conscience that can withstand public scrutiny without fear. Similarly, the prophet Samuel confronted the Israelites with transparent honesty, asking, “Whose ox have I taken? Whose ass have I taken? …?” The nation responded that Samuel had not defrauded them, exemplifying fearless integrity.
Such standards are presented as essential for modern public servants, civil servants, and politicians. The narrative cites Jesus Christ’s declaration that the ruler of this world found nothing in Him, highlighting ultimate moral cleanliness.
Conscience, the essay argues, links us to our deepest spiritual essence, acting as an internal sanctuary beyond mere intellect. Even self‑identified atheists possess an innate awareness of a higher reality, often dismissed as chance or luck.
[Richard Branson](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Branson), the Virgin Atlantic founder, once described a near‑death balloon incident over the Pacific, confessing that, despite his atheism, he felt a guardian angel’s presence guiding him and his co‑pilot.
Extreme danger, the piece notes, strips away intellectual defenses, exposing the spiritual core and moral compass that guide behaviour.
Conscience functions as the ultimate umpire between legality and morality, distinguishing what is lawful from what is truly right. When conscience is silenced, societal values bend to personal convenience, eroding moral absolutes and turning truth into a negotiable commodity.
In such a climate, survivalist instincts dominate, and the distinction between good and evil blurs, undermining sustainable development because trust—the foundation of progress—collapses.
Core values serve as the compass for conscience. When conscience is removed from decision‑making, core values become the first casualties, leading to governance failures, neglected fiduciary duties, and ethical breaches.
The essay concludes with a reminder: “The sky is not your limit, God is!”
