Her slightly chunky two-year old arm twined around mine as stray blonde hairs from her head tickled my shoulder. As Lucy nuzzled into me, my heart was as gooey as a chocolate bar in summer. 

At that moment, the tot at my side could have asked for the moon, and I would immediately have called up NASA with a down payment.  

Lucy and her older sister, Joslynn, recently came out with us to spend a weekend at the camper.   Because my natural “gifting” tends toward silliness, two-year old Lucy is usually not far away.  

Silly faces.  Silly noises.  Silly stories.  These seem to be my specialty.  But if it's true that I can communicate on the level of a toddler, our toddler granddaughter taught me something of the profound that weekend.

1 John 3:1 speaks of an unusual kind of affection.  The verse reads, “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God.”

I saw several glimpses of “lavished love” as the weekend unfolded.  For no apparent reason Lucy would frequently lean her head against my arm or shoulder.  More than once, she wrapped her arm around my own, flashing perfect white teeth and a smile that would melt granite.

While her sister, Joslynn, hauled fish out of the lake (at eight years old, she has quite a thing for fishing) Lucy took a break from guarding our bait supply.  From behind, she threw her arms around my neck and insisted on kissing me generously, laughingly.  At night, she laid her head on my chest or arm. Most profoundly, she gently stroked my cheek.

It was rich.  Lovely.  Lavish. 

With nearly every kiss, or pat, or gentle touch, I saw an image of “the great love the Father has lavished on us.” When was the last time you experienced—or expressed—that kind of love?