As the (almost) full-time caretaker of three young grandsons I have rediscovered something that all parents discover very early on in their vocation – they will find you.

When my two-year old grandson stood in the hallway outside the bathroom and called, “Nanny, you there?” I burst out laughing, remembering when his dad had posted a Facebook photo years ago of a little hand trying to push under a closed bathroom door. The caption read, “They will find you.”

The reason for my grandson’s search for me became apparent when I opened the door and he held up a piece of orange construction paper filled with colorful doodles and exclaimed, “Look Nanny! I made that!”

When I was raising my boys it often seemed like there was never a day when a flurry of little feet and hands weren’t running to me all day long, even following me to the bathroom, bringing me their latest discovery or newest injury, needing a hug or showing off a sticker from school, or just to make sure I was where they needed me to be.

Those are the times when our child calls out our name - Mom, I'm hurt! Dad, can you help me? Nanny, Look what I made! Poppy, this is for you! Mom, I love you!

Those times are expressions of love and trust on the part of the child and moments of joy for us.

Jesus spoke often in Scriptures of our need to be like little children, but how often do we, like our children, call out the name of the one we love and trust? How often do we run to our God, not only when we are hurt or afraid, but with our creative endeavors, no matter how scribbled they are, to say unashamedly, "I made this!"

So many times, when I have given a workshop or retreat day, participants will share with me their insecurity about praying. They feel they don’t know how.

I assure them that God does not wait impatiently for us to come to him, expecting us to use only certain words or phrases. Rather, we are invited to approach God with faith, hope and honesty, with prayer that is unceasing because we are mindful that we are always in God’s presence.

The saints have taught that in his love and mercy, God wants to see our works of art, our gold stars and failures, our skinned knees and our hands reaching out with trust wherever we are.

For those of us who are unsure of how we are to pray, it is wise to follow in the footsteps of the Apostles who said, “Lord, teach us to pray.”

If we ask God for an understanding of prayer we will surely get it, but we must be ready for the conversation because when we invite God into our minds and hearts, God always shows up.

As a time of waiting in hopeful expectation for the Lord, Advent is a perfect time to give ourselves over to prayer.  There is a simple but meaningful little Advent prayer I found from the Sisters of Mercy which I use for the start of each day of Advent:

“God of light, we await your coming again into our world. Help us to share the spark of your love in this time as we wait. May our faith and hope lead others to knowledge of your presence. May we always live our lives in your love.  Amen.”

Mary Clifford Morrell is the author of "Things My Father Taught Me About Love," and "Let Go and Live: Reclaiming your life by releasing your emotional clutter," both available as ebooks on Amazon.com.