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I’ve often wondered why I picture myself as a child sitting in God’s lap. I thought that picture would fade as I grow older, but it hasn’t. I’m always a little 5 yr.old girl no matter what we’re talking about. When I pray, I am leaned against Him & He patiently listens and cries with me if I cry, laughs when I happily tell Him something wonderful, and reprimands me when I need it. When I pray, I never see myself as I am now – I’m always that little girl. Suddenly, it dawned on me one day. (You know that over-used, one syllable “word” that was used a while back?…Duh.) That’s the word I said aloud when HE reminded where I was when I first heard how Jesus died for me. It was Christmas Eve & my grandfather had come to visit. As he & I were enjoying Christmas candy together, he asked me if I knew what Christmas was. I said what most 5 yr.olds say, “Yeah, Santa is coming!” Well, at that, he picked me up and sat me in his lap and told me the whole story from beginning to end. All of it – from His birth on -even the blood that ran down the cross onto the ground. How the earth shook because creation wept over it’s Creator. How He had only done good & loved everyone – even the soldiers who killed Him. He explained that all I had to do was believe & accept. That I did. I leaned against my grandfather’s flannel shirt & as I listened to his heartbeat, I wept because Jesus loved me that much. Right there, sitting in Grandaddy’s lap, He came into this little girl’s heart and stayed. We’ve been best friends ever since. So, I am content to stay in the Father’s lap until it’s time to see Him face to face. And…I am so glad my grandaddy loved me enough to tell me.
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