Your Father formed you in your mother's womb. He made the decision to die for you. He bore over 30 lashes for You, so you could have a relationship with Him. His precious daughter. Over the years, the world becomes more appealing. He tells you that He knows what's best for you, but you insist that you know better. You drift further and further from Him. He waits at the table for You daily, but your new sin has your attention. You're searching to be noticed, to be loved, forgetting lines 1-3. The world breaks you down, it ends up being exactly what your Dad warned you about. You're at your end, you throw up your hands and call for your Father, thinking He'll fill you with "I told you so's" and condemning speeches. Turns out, it’s the total opposite. Heaven is rejoicing for You, and He tells the angels, "My daughter is ready." He reaches His hand to You and affirms, "Let's get you cleaned up, I'm happy to have you Home." — The Prodigal Daughter
