When my sister found a storybook from our childhood, my mom, now in her seventies, was delighted. She remembered all the funny details about a bear who stole honey and got chased by a swarm of angry bees. She also remembered how my sister and I laughed as we anticipated the bear’s escape. “Thank you for always telling us stories when we were kids,” I told my mom. She knows my whole story including what I was like as a young child. Now that I’m an adult, she still knows and understands me.
God knows us too─d...
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