Praying in Our Own Language

Adela asked me today, "Does God speak all the different languages?"  Thankfully, He does...even that of a child.  I always love listening to the prayers of my children as they say exactly what is in their hearts and on their minds. 

The other night before bed, Adela prayed "Thank you for sisters, brothers, mothers, and dadders."  Amid the muffled snickers from others, I'm sure God knew exactly what she meant and treasured her thoughts.

Last week Thessaly prayed, "Thank you for letting mommy not be grouchy anymore!" at which all eyes peeked at me to see if I would become said grouch, but again God understood and listened.
 
And Josephine has often begun to add to her prayers, "I know there's more that I don't know how to say right now, but You already know it."  Ain't that the truth?!

If only I could become as a child in my prayers:
-Say what I want to say, even if I mess up the words.  He'll know what I mean. 
-Speak what's on my heart, regardless of how it sounds.  He'll understand and listen.
-Admit there is more, trusting Him to know my heart and help me along.
I stand amazed at what those sweethearts are continually teaching me.