I am writing this blog from Wheaton where my only granddaughter, who turns two on Saturday, lives. For the first time in my life, I get a whole day by myself with my granddaughter. We have already played hide-and-go-seek, she has jumped all over me, we’ve thrown the ball, we’ve colored, and this is only in the first hour! I’ve got another seven hours before her parents come home. I am having a wonderful time. Partly because Flora is just simple: she doesn’t expect much. Throwing the ball is great fun for her. Standing on my chest and falling down is great fun for her. She doesn’t understand personal space. She just is. I love that about her.
I also love something I’ve never experienced before: she is a product of our family line. She’s part of me. She has my DNA. And I began to think – Jesus has grafted me into His family. He loves me. He’s accepted me. He’s allowed me to be part of this family. I didn’t make a choice with Flora because she is my DNA. But God chooses us. We have a family relationship. Little Flora calls me “Papa” and when she drags me over for the 53rd time to read the same book, I do it because I love her and she’s part of me. That’s why God has done what he did on the cross for us: because He loves us.