A few weeks ago I was running a comb through Emily’s hair in an endeavor to divide it into two pigtails for her ballet class. While I was brushing out the knots, she tilted her head to the side like she was listening to something. I asked her what she had heard.
God was talking to me.
Um. Wow. I asked her what God had said to her.
He told me that I am beautiful.
I told her that she is, indeed, beautiful. Then I told Matthew about our conversation and did my best not to cry because how amazing was that?
Last week, I was tucking Miss Emily into bed, which consists of a prayer about what we’re thankful for and people that we want to pray for. It also consists of a snuggle and a chat. I brought up the conversation about God talking to her and asked if God talked to her often. She stated, simply:
He talks to me every day.
Oh. Well. Huh. I asked her what He talked to her about.
Sometimes He tells me that I could be nicer to my brothers. Sometimes He tells me that I could have a better attitude.
God is sounding a lot like Dad and Mom, here. I said that those things were great, but did God tell her good stuff, too?
Oh, YES. He always tells me He loves me.
As I was pondering this story yesterday, I asked her if God had spoken to her since we last talked about it. She was enthusiastic.
Yep! He tells me that he loves me EVERY DAY.
Then she kind of tucked her chin and smiled that shy smile and my heart grew one hundred times bigger.
I want to hear what she hears.