The garage door hums as it closes. My footsteps are announced by the creaking of the stairs. Six stairs to the landing by the front door, and I turn to ascend the last seven steps.
My son is almost always there...waiting for me. "DAAAADDYYYYYYYYYY!!" He doesn't even have to say anything. I can just tell that he's glad to see me. A smile brightens his face, followed by the little twinkle in his eye.
"Daddy, come here!" He grabs my hand and I'm hooked. Not by the hand, mind you, but by the heart. Why is he so eager to see me? I'm not this special to anyone else in the world!
He turns toward our destination and bites his lower lip in anticipation of my reaction to...whatever he's going to show me. I just chuckle at his little blond head bobbing up and down as we run down the hall together.
I've never felt so special in my life.
Maybe I should apply this principle to my other relationships. I wonder how my wife would feel if I was waiting for HER at the top of the stairs instead of staring at the TV, fingers lazily working the remote control? How would people at church feel if I acknowledged their presence loudly and made a point to tell them how happy I was to see them? Does my heavenly Father experience this kind of feeling when I approach Him in prayer?