The centerpiece of our backyard is a large pile of dirt—the leftovers from an unfinished gardening project. That pile exerts a magnetic pull on my daughters, who spend their afternoons excavating it, summiting it, and harvesting from it the makings of mud pies. There are days when I glance out the window at them and promptly go turn on the bathtub. 

But when my husband walks in the back gate after work, my daughters do not run to the tub—they run to him. With dirt in their hair and on their hands, they hug him and chatter happily, less concerned with how they look than with who they’re talking to. When I think of prayer, that is what I see: my disheveled daughters and their dad, who sees the mud and the smudged cheeks, but delights in the daughters beneath them.

Come to Him Like Little children

The “Abide” series is finished! You can read all of the posts (including my newest post, on prayer) at the links below:

Abide: Grace-Fueled Practices of Spiritual Discipline,” by Théa Rosenburg
God’s Word: Our Life and Joy” —on Scripture, by Hunter Beless
Come to Him Like Little Children” —on prayer, by Théa Rosenburg
A People On Purpose” —on fellowship, by Katelyn Sullins
Every Day Evangelism,” by Sarah Scott Pape