I love when the Lord calls me, “My child.” And, whew, I needed this psalm today. I need to be somebody’s child today. I know I am my parents’ child, but my parents are clear across the world doing their own thing, and that’s fine. I want them to do that. But sometimes, don’t you just want to be taken care of once in a while? Maybe it’s just me, but I hope not. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t know how to do some of the things I know how to do because then I could just say, “Sorry, I don’t know how to do that. You’ll have to handle it yourself.” But I can’t say that 99.9% of the time because the reason people ask me to do stuff is because they know I can do it, so telling them I can’t do it would be a lie. Then I’d have to feel guilty about lying forever. Sigh. I guess my point is … I’m tired today, and I’d love for the spa fairy to whisk herself in, prop my feet up and get to work, but since that’s not going to happen, I treated myself to a hot cup of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee (left over from my “snacks from America” stash) and a stroopwaffle I picked up yesterday for breakfast. That, and knowing that I am God’s child and that He will take care of me, will have to do for now.
Writing prompt: my child
Write about what it’s like to feel safe and cared for like a child.
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