Jesus lives in my house

Jesus lives in my house. 

He builds blocks. He plays with trains. He wanders from room to room.  

Jesus lives in my house. 

He holds her and rubs her hair until she falls asleep. He tells her she needs to sleep so she'll have energy to play tomorrow. 

Jesus lives in my house. 

He builds forts. He drinks tea. He stands in doorways waiting for her. 

Jesus lives in my house. 

When she needs to talk to Him, He always seems to be outside. He helps her be obedient. He helps her learn her numbers. 

Jesus lives in my house. 

These are all things my eldest has told me of Jesus. My first inclination was to smile warmly at her "imagination." Then I thought better. My prayer has always been that He will dwell here. That His spirit will be felt and His peace would reign. We have soaked in "The Jesus Storybook Bible" until she can "read" right along with us. And it seems that someone is indeed living in my house.

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 19:14