They speak to me about cookies and caring, about flowers and family, about Legos and love in action.
They speak almost continually, telling stories and asking questions, needing to know and wanting me to know.
Their speaking to me is simplicity itself. They feel curious and they ask, they become excited and they tell, they are frightened and they listen. They speak what is in their hearts and minds, and they listen to my answers and my reassurances.
You have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!”
I do not speak to my Father with such simplicity.
I worry that I do not ask for the right things, I fear that my attitude is faulty, I think I know that I am not silent enough.
I know them. I know their hearts, and want them to know me. No anger or disappointment comes when error is made. I love for them to speak easily, not fearful over content or word choice, but simply speaking and listening, learning to know and to be known.