John 15:16 “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you might go and bear fruit – fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you.”
I grew up in the 50s in a little town pushed up against the Pacific Ocean. Occasionally as the summer fog lifted, I would walk a mile or so down to the beach. Across the dunes, I would go. My shoes would fill with sand. I threw stones into the ocean surges. An occasional starfish would wash up and I would throw it back in. I would walk the beach looking for sand dollars and castaway junk thinking I would find something of great value. Sometimes I simply did nothing but stare at the constantly breaking waves. Time seemed to stop and yet pass by quickly. At the end of my walks was the realization I had to return home. The urge to return was complicated because of two paths.
One path was a retracing of my steps back home and probably chores. Often, the chosen path was to go over the dunes, along the schoolyard and cross a four-lane highway and show up at my father’s workplace. He was a mechanic at a small local shop. “Hi dad, I walked over to see how you are doing.” With a smile, he pulled out a slightly greasy stool, sat me down, and gave me a soda. “How was the hike?”, he would ask. And I would respond with my usual, “good”. He acted as if he expected me. Not an overly emotional man, but I could tell he was glad I was there.
I am expected in another place someday. And my heavenly father is expecting me. He may not have a greasy stool and a coke, and He may well ask me, “How was your hike?” There will be a smile on his face because will be glad to see me.
What shall we call Him? Jesus my expectant greeter.