I will be your Father, and you will be My sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty. 2 Corinthians 6:18
In my shattered state, only my Creator could recreate me. Would those inadequate issues worm their way back into my mind?
It led me to conclude that only by letting go and letting God lead me, could I get passed those negative things in my past which had followed me until my sons death. It’s a process. One day at a time, which we grievers often say. Paragraph a below follows the piece minus prayer.
The One who listened to my simple song and shows His pleasure is the only opinion that truly matters.
She was a fragile child with flaxen hair, large blue eyes, and a smile that could melt your heart from fifty paces. There is no doubt she stole his heart the first time her tiny fingers grasped his big one. But in his strong, quiet way, he wasn’t given to praise.
She is a lady now with lofty goals, which include meeting the man of her dreams, and she does. She meets a strong, silent type . . . they soon marry and have children. Life is a non-stop merry-go-round. Still, in the mist of life’s hectic journey, she looks to him for approval; always hoping for a sweet word or two, or just a smile to let her know that he approves of the way she keeps their castle and family together. But rarely does validation come.
If she were a concert pianist, praise from an appreciative audience would mean little unless her teacher or mentor first gave his approval. Slowly, God is helping her to understand that it is His approval she so deeply desires . . . and He assures her that she has it. In fact, she has always had it. After all, she is His daughter, His prize, His princess!
Long before this little one was ever born, God already couldn’t contain His joy. Oh how He anticipated her birth! He always had a special smile ~ a wink perhaps ~ just for her. He adored this fair-haired child.
He loved the young graduate with all her plans. He presided at her wedding and was present at the birth of each sweet child. He has loved her passionately all along. And He still does.
Even if she were to play Chopsticks on the Grand Steinway at Carnegie Hall, He couldn’t be more pleased. She’d steal a glance in His direction and He’d wink back . . . and give her the “thumbs up” sign.
Ah, the sweet comfort and pleasure of approval from the Man who matters most.
My Dear Child,
Never forget, I am forever in love with you! You are My precious daughter and I respect, admire, love and adore you! I can’t wait to embrace you and all the rest of My many beautiful daughters and handsome sons when I welcome each of you home at last.
Does reading this entry warm your heart as it does mine? You are, indeed, His special daughter!
~from Shattered by Suicide