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Most of the time she is silent, accepting, dreaming, hoping, waiting. Then the nightmares come, and silence does not come easy. The light turns to dark, tightening around until there is no room to believe. These are the days she cries to me, arms extended in desperation.
I look down at this pitiful tiny thing. Her little hands are extended, begging to be held, so I reach down and kiss her face. Up, up, up I lift her close, and carry her in my arms. We close our eyes, and sing together, as we go higher and higher until we gently land in front of the throne of God. He is there waiting with robes of purple for my little one, and we swaddle her tightly until she is at peace. He holds us both with scarred hands, and repeats his promise: "I will never leave you or forsake you." I touch his scars in wonderment at their meaning...even He could not leave the world unscathed, but He is at home, where we too will find rest. But...not yet....just a little while, and for the time being-- we shall wear purple.....
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