As much as I enjoy talking, laughing, shopping or playing thought-provoking games with my two teens, I have to admit that sometimes I miss when they were babies. As infants, they would display sheer joy whenever I walked into the room. They simply wanted to be with me–and found comfort in being carried or held on my lap.
I wonder if God sometimes feels that way about me. Now that I've "grown up," do I still express excitement about simply being in his presence? Does God miss me lifting up my arms for him to hold me?
