How can this all be chance? How can the sky soaked in hues of pink and yellow be of anything other than the very blood of a man who had lived a horrendous life, not because He was a fool, not because He was weak, not because He was a man of addiction, but

because

He

loves

me.

He loves me right now. This very second. And the next second. And now this second. He loves me so much that when I needed a house He gave me a home. When I needed someone to cry to He poured friends into my life. When I was tired He blessed me with coffee, and if that wasn't enough when I was weak this being of all mighty, raw power became even weaker than my pathetic, rotting flesh just so this this Man can lift my head to reveal to me that despite all this

ugly I'm prone to the sun will still rise to comfort it.

Oh how my soul aches to be a father.

I look around and see all the innocent faces of the children of people. It makes my heart ache to hear a child cry. It makes me smile to hear one laugh. I can't but help but imagine all the things I will do to show my son I love him. I can't wait to be there to listen to his ideas and opinions. How I'm going to teach him everything God is trying to teach me. Oh how I enjoy the thought of holding a living person who has a living heart, a heart that I get to help grow. I can't wait to see God's face through a gift He will bless me with.