See what great love the Father has given us that we should be called God’s children—and we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it didn’t know him. —1 John 3:1
In the summer of 1990, I took every person in our company to a trade show in Denver. Our business was growing like crazy, and I knew this was going to be an all-hands-on-deck event. Brian Glassford, one of our newest telemarketing salespeople, was a part of our traveling team. As our staff gathered at the airport to leave for Denver, Brian’s wife, Leslie, and his two daughters, Brittany and Vanessa, were there to say goodbye. I can still see these little girls just outside security, embracing their daddy. It was a wonderful moment.
Ten days later we returned, worn and weary from the rigorous schedule that only trade shows can inflict. I was walking through the concourse and into the lobby, several feet ahead of Brian. My mind was far away as I stepped into the same waiting area we had left over a week before. As Brian emerged from the doorway right behind me, the voice of a little girl squealed with unbridled joy, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Brittany was running as she called his name—moving as fast as she could through the crowd and into his waiting arms. The sound of her voice only became muffled as she buried her face in her daddy’s shirt. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
Brian wrapped his arms around this little person he desperately loved, and nearly everyone who saw this reunion was choking back tears. It was one of the most dra- matic father and child reunions I have ever seen.
When the embrace finally ended, this little girl stepped back and said, “Mommy bought me a new dress. Do you like it?”
“Oh, yes. It’s beautiful,” was Brian’s flawless response.
A stranger standing close to me leaned over and asked, “Who is this guy?”
“This is Brittany’s daddy,” I replied.
In the years since that moment, I have also thought about what happened when, as total unknowns, we stepped off the plane and entered the Denver airport. There were no shouts of delight at Brian’s arrival—no embraces, no tears, no new dresses.
How incredible it is, back in the home airport, for a daddy to be recognized and celebrated, and how awesome is it to have someone to run to.
The apostle John gave us a picture of our future union with our heavenly Father. He called God’s love for us “great”—perfectly fitting of how Brian’s arms wrapped completely around his child. John tells us that sometimes God steps off the plane in Denver. There’s no one to greet Him, no one to call Him Daddy. “The reason the world does not know us is that it didn’t know him” (v. 1). How sad that these busy people will not know the extravagant joy of the Father’s embrace!
John also tells us something that Brian’s wife, Leslie, knew all about. When you’re getting ready to see Daddy, you buy Brittany a new dress for the occasion. What else would you do? And when you’re getting ready to greet your heavenly Father, you do no less: “Dear friends, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet been revealed. We know that when he appears, we will be like him because we will see him as he is. And everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself just as he is pure” (vv. 2–3).
Our Father is coming home to us. It’s going to be a great reunion of sorts. Be ready. Be dressed and clean. His lavish embrace will be the best thing we’ve ever known.