So my audience is JPR and Melissa... grrrreat... I'm going to do a writing no-no and not cater to my audience. I'm going to pretend you two are just among the plethora of people reading this (ok, wishful thinking much?). Otherwise all I'd write about were monkeys and zoos in Africa about which I have minimal experience. :-)
I was playing with some kids today. A few five year olds, a six year old, a seven year old, and an eight year old. We started out playing "kickball" (where you kick the soccer ball to each other... not real kickball) and our group changed every few minutes. Eventually we were left with two five year olds and the eight year old. They'd grown bored with "kickball" and had moved on to "Let's make the teacher into a jungle gym." (The word "migraine" means nothing to a five year old...) The two five year olds ran back and forth between the eight year old and I (both sitting in the grass) leaping into our arms with the goal of knocking us over. Ultimately, I was lying flat on my back with both of them on my lap giggling hysterically.
"I love you, Miss Katie," One of them said to me.
"I love you more!" the other countered.
"I love you both the most!" I responded.
Why do they love me? Five minutes ago they had to ask my name. They love me because I stick up for them (ten year olds tend to wreak havoc on five year olds' games of "kickball"...), I get the ball when it rolls in the street (stupid playground construction), and I let them climb all over me (when will the new playground be done again?). God does a whole lot more for us than that, yet we still hesitate to tell Him we love Him. I might step out in front of a car to protect them, but I probably wouldn't willingly died a painful death for them.
Tell Someone you love Him. Tell Him thanks.
Then spread the love tell someone else you love them. (And don't let it be me). Then tell them He loves them. (I already know that, so you still can't tell me).
My mom's been out of town for four days, and she came home crabby. She yelled at me for like ten different things (of most of which I had no prior knowledge) and said nothing about anything to my sister. Ok, who has the headache? Who worked for eight hours today? Who sat around and did nothing all day? Yeah, that's right. I got up at the crack of dawn and my sister slept in like a couch potato. Anyway. Mom's behavior wasn't helping my headache. She left for another four days. Even though I wasn't happy with her, on her way out the door I quoted our friend, "You're crabby today. Why are you crabby? You're crabby today. Just go away; you're crabby today" but added my own, "I love you. Bai."
"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.'" Matthew 19:14