I learned a few years ago from Dan Kimball that one of the Greek words that we translate as “worship” is proskuneo which translates directly as “to kiss towards.”
I love that. It is full of action and love and devotion. I am reminded of the woman of ill repute who wet Jesus’ feet with her tears, drying them with her hair, kissing his feet and anointing them with expensive perfume. From the moment he entered the room, she hadn’t stopped “kissing toward” him.
This morning, I woke up with someone’s water bottle in the small of my back. Bella is normally an early riser; even though our clocks fell back an hour, her waking is still ahead an hour. So she had popped into our bed around 5 or so. Christine was already up and exercising (which I need to get myself doing), and Bella had fallen back asleep.
So back to waking with Bella’s water bottle in my back. I tried to softly dig it out, trying not to wake her, when she wraps her arm around me and kisses my shoulder. Kisses my cheek. Kisses my neck.
Just these soft, little kisses. Each one saying “I love you, Daddy.”
Unprovoked.
I didn’t say “If you love me, Bella, you’ll ‘kiss toward’ me.” This was an outpouring of love on her own. She was kissing me because she loved me. Because she knows how much I love her.
“Those are sweet kisses,” I said.
“I love you, Daddy,” she replied.
And I imagined, with only a glimmer, what God must feel when we “kiss toward” him as an outpouring of our love and devotion for him.
I love you, Daddy.
