The Gospel according to Cassidy & Chris

I just spent a week away with my niece and nephew in Tahoe. Now I LOVE Tahoe. It's majestic there. Vast mountains, crystal clear waters, pine scent wafting everywhere.

But what I really love is it affords me 7 whole days with my niece and nephew.

Priceless.

I often think on times away like this, God arranges little events and moments to create a parable of sorts for me to really "get it." The way He sees, feels, and loves me.

On the trip, my nephew Chris kept creating little adventurous scenarios for us, "Auntie Sue....the shadooooows. The GIANT," grabbing his red flashlight in tow and my hand we scurry off to find the giant and destroy him...together. He wants me to come along but what he really wants is to be the hero and save me.

My niece Cassidy has a delightful curiosity and such a kind disposition about her you can't help but want to bottle her up. Seriously. I could use a dose of her awe, wonder, and joyful delight every now and then (ok hourly).

When I walk in the room it seems there is this boundless delight of, "Suuuuuuuuuuuusie....oh (cuddle, cuddle)." It never gets old. All I want to do is get away with her and enter her world, regardless of what that involves: watching Toy Story II (once, twice, ok 7 times!), playing a game, swimming for hours in the pool, even sleeping...I just want to be with her. See how she's experiencing her world--What she likes. What she doesn't. Things she's excited about. Afraid of.

It's rather mysterious and mundane the whole exchange. Like something in me realizes on one level this is about an auntie with her niece and nephew having fun, but on another level a significant kingdom transference is taking place.

The vertical relationship takes me up to the horizontal...Ohhhhhh, this is what YOU feel, Lord. This is how you see us. And how much you long for me to "just be" with you, share my life with you, and know how much I'm loved.

And I miss it.

A lot.

You long to sit with me. Listen to me. Talk to me. Share in it with me.

All those feelings I feel towards those kiddos. The generosity in my heart to give to them abundantly (and when I don't, like telling them it's time for bed, it's because I think it's best for them). The delight when each decides to spend time with me or wants me to share in something their doing. The gift of getting to watch them learn and grow.

You feel those things toward me.

It never ceases to astound me.

Probably because I so often get it wrong. I miss his generous, gracious, simple devotion to sharing life with me. I am so caught up in "Do you have a job for me? Where is this story going? Tell me what's next." I miss the Giver. He's got it taken care of--my focus on the urgent, keeps me from the now...Him. Not only does he see my urgent, He's got it taken care of...everything that's His is mine...and how much he longs for me to curl up in his lap and believe it."

"A father is delighted when his little one, leaving off her toys and friends, runs to him and climbs into his arms. As he holds his little one close to him, he cares little whether the child is looking around, her attention flitting from one thing to another, or just settling down to sleep. Essentially the child is choosing to be with her father, confident of the love, the care, the security that is hers in those arms. Our prayer is much like that. We settle down in our Father's arms, in his loving hands. Our mind, our thoughts, our imagination may flit about here and there; we might even fall asleep; but essentially we are choosing for this time to remain intimately with our Father, giving ourselves to him, receiving his love and care, letting him enjoy us as he will. It is very simple prayer. It is very childlike prayer. It is prayer that opens us out to all the delights of the kingdom." (Brennen Manning, Ragamuffin Gospel)

"I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst." (John 6:35)