Erin was only 9 months old, and she and I were still getting to know each other. She was my first grandchild and I was fascinated with her. I was laying on the couch and she was sitting on my stomach, playing with a little stuffed toy as she babbled and chirped happy sounds.
Suddenly, without notice, Erin lurched forward and dropped her head down on mine, placing her little forehead against mine with our eyes lined up eyeball to eyeball. I was a little surprised by this so I just laid there as still as I could, waiting to see what she'd do next. To my dismay she did absolutely nothing, she just stared, unblinking, into my eyes. It seemed like forever, but after about 15 or 20 seconds she lifted her head up as suddenly as she had dropped it down and went back to her babbling and chirping.
Although something inside of me kept saying that this was a profound moment, I dismissed it as simply interesting, and pushed it out of my mind. But something changed that day, not only in my life, but in Erin's as well. As Erin grew she seemed to be as fascinated with me as I as with her - if we were in the same room together she would make her way over to where I was, if we were out on family activities she either wanted to be holding my hand or to carried by me. She followed me around like a little puppy and we could play together for hours like 2 little children.
Now, I've told this story to a small number of people over the past few years and
no one has ever asked what I consider to be the inevitable question. So without waiting for you
to ask, I'll provide the answer for once and for all:
I don't know what Erin saw in my eyes that day ...
but I know what I saw ...
I saw God.