I live in a private community. My dad lives a few streets over. There is a Prayer Cottage across the street from me where my dad and other reitred pastors gather to pray together every Tuesday morning.
The other day through my window I saw my dad drive up to the Prayer Cottage . I stuck my head out the door and yelled, "Hi Daddy." He couldn't see me because of the huge pine in the yard. But he knew it was me. There were others standing there and even though I couldn't see him either I knew it was him who answered because I recognized his voice. My heart skipped a bit as he answered. I am still his little girl and I can hear it in his voice.
I bet you know where I am going with this. My Heavenly Father knows when I call. He knows it is me. He knows what I need. I am still His little girl. And, I know His voice when He talks to me. We have spent enough time together to develop that type of relationship.
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