Several times, God has answered my prayers in ways that show He really does understand a wus like me.

One year I was teaching a third grade Sunday School class, but woke up feeling hopelessly unloveable. I didn’t think I could communicate God’s love very effectively in such a state, so I went straight to my equivalent of a prayer closet, the bathtub.

There I prayed, “Lord, I know you love me and that it’s weak to ask for signs, but please reassure me, so I can share Your love with the children.”

Just at that moment, my nine-year old daughter came into the bathroom. As I opened my mouth to scold her for this uncharacteristic violation of my privacy and our house rules, she wrote with her finger in the mist on the mirror, “God loves mommy.”  Then she smiled and left before I could say anything.

It was very easy to teach with conviction and joy about the love of God that day.