"Daddy, how do you pray in your heart?" Ashlyn asked.
There had been a lull in the bickering and fighting in the back seat of the Accord, partly brought on by Ashlyn being on time-out. (Yes, time-out CAN work in the car.) It had been just delightfully long enough for her to forget the fight and pose this question, seated there between her momentarily silent sisters.
"You just think about the things you want to say to God," I answered.
"I'm going to do that right now," she said.
"Cool," said I.
And she did. "I'm done doing that," she announced, half a minute later.
"What did you say in your heart to God?" I asked, ever the voyeur.
"I said, thank you for dying on the cross, and thank you for loving us, and thank you for all the stuff you give us. Amen."
"That's awesome, Ashlyn. I bet God was so happy to hear you say those things to Him in your heart."
"Yeah," she giggled, as shyly as Ashlyn does anything. "I can pray in my heart."
Brielle weighed in now. "I can't pray in my heart. But I can pray in my brain."
"Those are both good," I said.
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