I saw him Wednesday night. I caught sight of him running toward me, out of the corner of my eye, just in time to turn and catch him as he jumped into my arms. His hair was all a mess and he was bare footed. He gave me a big hug and said, “Hey, Rob, where you been?” I asked him the same question. I told him that we’d been by his house three Sunday mornings in a row and every time we were told he was asleep or had to go to the doctor or he was visiting relatives. He looked up at me with a sheepish grin and said, “Ah, their trickin’ you, Rob.” It wouldn’t be the first time.

They’ve tricked me before. They tricked me into keeping him for three days last summer. They just left him with me. We were working a fireworks stand for MBSF and Cody became our top “box mover” and “fireworks tester”. They tricked me one afternoon when he knocked on my door and asked if he could come in for a minute. When I said yes he turned and waved to his grandmother who was sitting in a truck in my driveway. She promptly backed out and left him with me for the rest of the evening and the next morning. They’ve tricked me before.

But I don’t mind being tricked on Cody’s account. I want to be tricked. I’d take the kid in a heart beat. We’ve got room at the house. He already has a drawer down stairs in my basement with extra socks and pants and t-shirts and shirts and underwear. He told me, just a week or so ago, that when his grandma died he was gonna come live with me ’cause he sure couldn’t live with his sisters.

So I put him down and made him promise that he’d be ready for Sunday School when I came by. He promised and turned and ran off into the gym at the church to play with his buddies. Good ole’ Cody.

I pulled into the driveway at 9:30am Sunday morning. The yard looked like someone had set off a bomb inside a trash can. The path to the front door was cluttered with toys and clothes and cans and shoes. Trash was everywhere. I walked onto the porch and knocked. A small dog barked wildly just behind the door. There was no other movement. There were two trucks parked in front of the house. One of them was Cody’s grandmother’s. I turned to walk away but turned back and knocked harder and louder and longer this time. The barking got wilder but still no movement.

How many times did God knock at the door of your heart before you let him in? Aren’t you glad that He gave you some time to decide? Aren’t you glad that He didn’t stop knocking? (Revelations 3.20) I or one of my staff will be on Cody’s doorstep at 9:30am every Sunday morning until the door opens. I think they are just trying to trick us.