A couple of Saturdays ago, I’d finally run out of semi-good excuses to not do yard work.  At about 2:00 o’clock in the afternoon, just after my weekly post-lunch couch crash, I go to a spot just outside of my five-year-old, Jackson’s, bedroom.  And I’m getting frustrated because I’m digging in red clay, the enemy of every red-blooded American male - especially those of us who put off doing yard work.

Just then, Jackson peeks out his window and starts to knock, smiling with his first baby tooth noticeably missing.  He screams at me that he loves me, but I act like I can’t hear him just so that he’ll scream it louder.  Jackson, from behind his window, motions that he’ll be right back.  I go back to swearing at the red dirt, when three or four minutes later, Jackson is back pressing a piece of construction paper against the window with the words, “I luv my daddee,” written on it along with a drawn heart (that kind of looks like a sick bird more than it does a heart).  But I’m hooked.  I drop my shovel (it didn’t take much), and from my side of the glass, I use really big sign language to tell Jackson that I love him.

Then I go to give my boy a high-five but can’t because of the glass between us.  Jackson motions that he’ll be right back.  I’m forced to pick the shovel back up, but Jackson reappears in no time with another piece of paper pressed against the window that says, “There is a glas btwen us!  No hi fivs.”  I respond by acting like I’m crying, and Jackson leaves.

Right there, God spoke to me.  (I really wasn’t doing all of this to get out of yard work.  I swear.)  And God let me into his world.  God let me know that he longs for the times that you press your face against the glass and come to him.  God can’t wait for the times that you distract him from what he’s doing so that you two can play.  It is the highlight of God’s day when you go the extra mile and you just talk, write, or sing to him.  God loves to spend time with you so much that one glance in his direction, and you’ve got him hooked.

Just then, my little boy opens up the window and drops out another piece of paper with a hand drawn on it, perfectly sized for “hi fivs,” and I swear that I almost cried right then and there in the middle of the red dirt.

-I Want to Give God a Hi Fiv Like That