"...Your true name is written on the palms of His hands and it's those hands that reach for you now to hold you, to heal you, to guide you into the freedom that awaits you in His great heart. Take His hand, loved one, and know your Father receives you just as you are."
All the broken fathers who fell short of what we needed and all the faltering mothers who chose their own needs over ours, they follow us, long after we've moved past them, into adulthood, into our own parenting, into our relationship with God. It is the first failing we own, our inability to heal our parents' brokenness. Before we even form a sense of ourselves we know, somehow, we've failed because our existence isn't enough to make them whole.
Our portal into this world, the first voices we hear, first eyes that drink us in, first hands that receive us, are also our introduction to its frag...
