"Look! Look! I Did It!"

My nephew

          I’ve worked or interacted with kids for the bulk of my adult life.  So most of my thinking—how I organize my thoughts in metaphors, pictures, symbols, stories—are set in images involving children.  I suppose I think that if a truth can be pared down—completely shaved down to its bare bones so that a child can understand it—then that is a Truth worth keeping.

          Today, I spent the morning with my nephew E, who is now twenty months old.  He likes to take his toy cars and balance them on the edges of chairs so that they're on the verge of teetering but do not fall off.  He then runs to me and grabs me by the legs and says, “Look!  Look!”  He shines his eyes up at me with his aren't-you-proud-of-me-smile, which involves every muscle of his face.  My natural response to him is a burst of unbridled cheers!  At that point, I pick him up and kiss him all over.  I just want to eat him!

          Today, I realized that when all is said and done, this is how I would like to come to my Heavenly Father.  I don’t want to cry and have Him pick me up.  I don’t want to whine and say, “I can’t do this (life), it’s just too hard.”  I don’t want to pout and say, “Give me this, give me that.”  I don’t want to complain and say, “But that person doesn’t know how to share or play nicely, so I don’t want to either.”  Mostly, I don't want to live my life without wanting to share my moments of joy with Him.  I want to grab His attention because I am happy.  I want to run to Him to tell Him, “Look!  Look!  I know how to balance things on precarious edges and I've found pleasure in doing so!”  I want to run to God and say, “Aren’t you proud of me!  I did it!”  I want my Father to look on my face and beam with cheers.  I want Him to say, “Well done, good and faithful daughter! Woohoo!  Come into my arms.  Let’s celebrate together!”