This week, with the Rev Kevin Logan, Vicar of Christ Church, Accrington

BESOTTED! That's what I am. It began in Bradford with one of those prize moments that life suddenly thrills you with.

I looked into her eyes and one of hers gazed back into mine. It was green. The other eye wandered off over my left shoulder.

Her beautiful head was streamlined like an Olympic cyclist's crash helmet.

And the fingers! Never seen any longer - obviously destined to rip through Rachmaninov on the international stage.

Hold it! It's no good! I must stop boring people like this.

I have just become a grandfather and feel like a king.

It took me back to 4am one January morning 30 years before, when I held her father in my arms.

It changed my life. God had been a boring spoilsport until then.

Slowly, it dawned that if this Heavenly Father loved me half as much as I loved my son, he might be worth knowing.

I came to see that he loved me so much that he sent his only Son to give his life to save me.

This Father knew every hair on my head. He loved me while I was gleam in my father's eye and even when I was bump in Monica Logan's tummy.

It was all there, more or less, in black and white in his love letter - the Bible.

And so, a few days ago, there I was in Bradford with 16st 10lb son hovering, proud as punch, as I admired his 6lb 10oz Lois.

I overflowed with the same love that flows from our Heavenly Father as he gazes on you and me.