Dear Child – A Letter From God

Obviously not really from God. Please enjoy, share, and comment.

Dear Child,

I have heard you.

I hear your cries when you are in pain or hurting. I hear your prayers when you need help or healing.

I know your struggles, your scars and your problems. I know the things you enjoy and the things that you hate. I know your pet peeves and I know the things that ignite a passionate fire within you.

Whether you’re happy or sad, or angry and hurting, I will always be there for you. I’ll be with you in the light of day and in the darkest nights. I’ll never leave you or forsake you. I’ll never abandon you, and you’ll never be alone. You are My child, and I am always with you. I will help you in your struggles and heal your heartache.

When you’re hurting, turn to Me. I can heal the broken heart and put shattered faith back together again. I can fix any problem if you only call out to Me.

Even when you’re lost and don’t know what to do, I will guide you. I formed you in your mother’s womb, and I had a plan for you and your life before you were even thought of by others. Nothing can change that plan. No mistake that you make can make Me give up on you. I can always fix your problems and forgive you. No mistake is too big for Me. You are always mine, no matter what.

It doesn’t matter how far you stray; I will welcome you back with open arms. You are My child, and I love you. No matter what.

Love,

God

With No Hope Left

Hi, everyone! I loved writing this little story. Almost made me cry. I hope reading this will start a fire of passion withing you, and inspire you to do something. Please reblog it and share it so others can feel that passion to do something, too! 😀 God bless!

The wind.

It’s such a beautiful noise, at night when you can’t fall asleep and you hear it howling through the trees.

Unless you’re the homeless man on the corner.

You know the one. You pass by him every day on the way to work or school. His thin clothes offer no protection from the cold. His head rests on his knees as he sleeps, his few belongings clutched to his chest.

He’s not a bad man, he’s just fallen on bad times. He had a wife, and two cute little girls. Had. He tried so hard to earn money, doing odd jobs here and there. His only joy had been coming home to his wife. And his two daughters, so little, such cute curls. Then the sickness had come.

He didn’t know why he didn’t die. Somehow he overcame the sickness. But those two little girls and his wife. They weren’t so lucky.

He lost his job. He lost his wife. He lost his daughters. He lost his house. He lost hope.

He was in an unfamiliar town, lost, with no way to go anywhere. So he stands by the road holding a cardboard sign. He doesn’t hope. No one stops for him. They find themselves purposefully avoiding his eyes, looking anywhere but where he is. You do the same. The two of you are in different worlds. After all, that homeless shelter a couple blocks away should be the one taking care of him. He could just go there if he wanted.

But he doesn’t know. You do.

The wind blows through the trees, and the homeless man’s toes and fingers grow numb in the dark of night. With no hope left.