My Mother had a strong believe in God, although she couldn’t answer the assault of questions I asked her. I don’t remember seeing or hearing her pray; and she stopped sitting on the edge of my bed to listen to mine, when I was around that age that a child would stop believing in Santa.
As you might have guessed from the tone above, I had identified myself as an atheist even at age four, although I didn’t have a word for it then. I continued to go to churches and read the Bible through four times by the time I was fourteen, but not because I recognized a need to believe, because every one of those years I had a slight disdain for those who did.
I had a vague LONGING to know for sure, and this got stronger until I found my Heavenly Dad.

All my growing up years Mom would call out to me or my brother from some place in the house. We’d answer thinking she was calling us to stop what we were doing and help her with a dinner or outside in the garden. Usually though she’d say something like, “I was just thinking of you. I love you very much!” or “I don’t need you right now but I appreciate your help whenever I ask. I love you.” Just simple statements made at the moment they came into her mind. Those statements beamed deep inside me.
How often do we catch a thought slipping by like: “What a beautiful day!”, “I love indoor plumbing”, “I’m so glad I can listen to music whenever I want to.”, or “John is just great!”
Do you ever talk with your hands, throwing them around excitedly or making stabbing punctuations?  Why not put our hands together and thank our Father in the middle of the day for no reason except to say I love you and thanks.   nancymauerman.com