Daddy. . .

There have been very few moments that, in the middle of a total funk, I’ve pressed in so strongly to my Father.

This is one of those moments.

I feel like a little child, helpless and lost, calling out to his dad. Hoping to hear something. Waiting for his father’s voice.

And just as all hope seems lost, Daddy’s arms scoop the little child up. All is right in the world.

Because Daddy’s here. His arms will hold you.

And he’ll never let go.

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