A Day with My Heavenly Daddy

What would the ideal day with your Heavenly Father look like?

As soon as I read this month’s Compassion Bloggers prompt, I started to chuckle. I’ve spend some interesting days in the presence of God, but there’s one memory in particular that takes the cake… or perhaps I should say, the cheese!

Let me explain:

A few years ago, I spent three weeks as a live-in house/pet/plant-sitter for neighbors who were gone on vacation. One night, I was heading to bed after an evening of movies, when I decided to stop in the kitchen for a snack. As I nosed around the kitchen, I was having a conversation with the Lord about certain things. It was late, I was tired, and as a result, our conversation waxed sillier and sillier. Our topic was, interestingly enough, the same as listed above: what I would do if God came down to earth to spend a day. I maintained that I would love to hear Him play the old upright piano in the corner, as of course, He is the Master Musician!

I was eating a packet of string cheese when, for no reason I could think of other than I was over-tired, I held the package towards the ceiling and offered, “Want a bite?”

That second, I got a mental image of the Lord pretending to chomp a bite, rather like a parent who pretends to gobble up a bite of food in order to encourage their small child to eat. Something along the lines of, “Nom nom nom!!!”

That did it… I was gone, laughing so hard it’s a wonder the neighbors didn’t hear me. I’m sure a few would have thought me to be irreverent, but I’ve always maintained that the Lord was a Man and spent 30 years working as a Carpenter, and I’m sure He didn’t spend all that time floating along on a cloud with a halo.

Back to the writing prompt… I’ve spent a lot of time imagining what a day with the Lord would look like. There’s one thing in particular that’s very close to my heart, that I’ll share with you today.

When I was younger, my family and I watched an Easter play on television. The actor playing Christ had the longest, thickest, smoothest, silkiest reddish-gold hair that I’d ever seen (on a man, anyways!) Being a girl with very long, thick red hair myself, I imagined that if Jesus did have hair like that, and if He ever paid a visit to my room, I would request the honor of brushing his hair.

There’s something special about doing one’s hair, or having one’s hair done. I remember one of my aunts playing with and plaiting my hair; it’s something that you only allow someone who’s very close to you to do.  It’s a very simple and yet intimate gesture.

I’ve always had a deep respect for daddies who take the time to learn to comb and style their daughter's hair (or son’s, as the case may be). Being as God is the Ultimate Daddy, I had/have a perfect and complete confidence that He could easily brush my hair without hitting any knots or snarls.

Let Mary Magdalene pour out her precious ointment… my perfect day would consist of my Father and I, brushing each other’s hair.