I can lay in bed and hear my kids go up or down the stairs and KNOW Exactly what child it is. I can tell by the thumps... how slow, fast or even the pattern they run. It reminds me of Alan Jackson’s song “Remember When”- “the sound of little feet”.
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I have a language with my babies/toddlers and know what they want when others don’t understand.
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I can see a demeanor and know my older kids are struggling or can tell if they have true joy.
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I can hear a laugh from the other room and know which child, and I can tell if it’s a happy laugh or superficial. I can tell without looking whose fighting and wrestling because I know the dynamics in the home.
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I know my children.
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My Father knows me.
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God has all my tears in a bottle. He collects each one in a book (Psalm 56:8). One day he will wipe every tear. He knows when I sit and when I rise; He perceives my thoughts from afar (Psalm 139:2). He knows all the hairs on my head and has them numbered (Matthew 10:30).
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Not only that, but God knows the secrets of the heat.
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Psalm 44:21
Would not God find this out? For He knows the secrets of the heart.
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My Father Knows Me. Like the pattern of little feet up my stairs. I don’t need to look. I know it’s Koko because she can’t skip a stair yet. I hear a child run so fast, I know it’s Kashton because he skips a few as he challenges himself. I hear pounding like a flat foot and it’s Kannon because he loves to be loud and uses his heals. I hear slow and steady and know it’s Karter because he is deep in thought going up and down. I don’t need to look, I know.
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I don’t need to see God when I can feel Him. He knows me (better than I know myself). What a reassuring thing to know about our Father.
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