| Sunny Side Up May 15, 2002 � 2002, Kathleen Gibson She Wants to See My Face Friends called�they needed to make an out of town trip and wouldn�t be back until evening. Andrea, their oldest daughter could babysit now, but Brittany was only five. They�d never left their children on their own before. Would I mind phoning later, just to check on them? Mind? I�d loved those two blondies since their diaper days. I called the minute they got home from school. �Would you like to come to my house?� I asked, hoping. But Andrea assured me they�d be fine. �I�ll make supper,� I bribed. �I think I have macaroni and cheese in the cupboard.� Responsibility weighting her every syllable, Andrea declined politely and hung up. Disappointed, I resumed writing. Moments later the phone jangled. It was Brittany this time. A pixie with a purpose. �Yes,� she said, as though the previous call had not ended, as though she had been party to it. �Yes, I want to come to your house. I want to be with you. I want you to feed me.� Just in case I didn�t get it, she added wistfully, �I want to see your face.� She wanted to see my face. She wanted to see my face! She wanted to�.. My spirit danced with it. I sped to the kitchen to find the macaroni and cheese. Should I make it gourmet? No, better leave it plain. Should I take brownies out of the freezer? Yes, brownies to celebrate. My girls were coming to my house! In those seconds nothing was more important to me than meeting the needs of that tiny sprite who spoke with such longing in my ear, repeating the same request over and over. I dropped everything to attend to her. And in those seconds I understood something about the heart of my heavenly parent. Like Brittany, loneliness grays some of my days too. And all the friends and family in the world can�t fill that God-shaped vacuum that hollows out the seat of my soul. As much as they love me and I them, they don�t understand me completely; can�t provide for my deepest hunger. I know what I�m missing�I want to go to God�s house; to be with Him, to be fed by Him, to crawl into his lap and feel my frailties encircled by his perfect strength. I call�cry out, and at the sound his great heart leaps to meet mine. Wait�what happens next is the really neat part. If things spiritual could be seen and heard physically, I picture it this way. God�running, planning my welcome. All heaven rumbles with the sound. Excitement lifts his voice and the angels laugh in the reflection of his joy. �I just got the call�.she�s coming! She wants me to feed her. She wants to see my face! Spread the table, get out the easy chair, and oh, did I tell you�.she wants to see my face�.. You can respond to this column at [email protected] |