My Father didn't need an ultrasound. He didn't need doctors or nurses. He already knew who I was. He wrote me. I'm His workmanship. I'm His work of art.
I'm His poem, a beautiful, messy bunch of lines that only make sense because He created it. He created me and knew what I was going to do, where I was going to go, and who I was going to be. Nobody else did that for me.
My Father loves me and asks me simply to make my identity HIM. That is where my purpose is set. My Father is a brilliant writer, and His most perfect piece is creating me in His image.
Don't forget that we are children of the Living God.
