I interrupt my regularly scheduled devotion to share this jewel I found. It’s for all the girls out there who’s father offered less than they needed. Be healed, in Jesus’ name.
Growing up, I was the epitome of a daddy’s girl. My father and I were very close and I simply worshiped the ground he walked on. Every time he’d come home, I would rush to him, take his shoes off and bring him something to drink. We would take naps most Sunday afternoons; and when he was on the road for his job, I would cry until he returned. My father was very strict and expected nothing less than perfection but he also had a lot of faith in me and believed I could do anything.
Then, when I was around thirteen, my father traveled abroad in search of greater opportunities. Years went by until I would see him again; years during which my life changed eternally. About 6 years after he left, we joined him in the States but the father that I knew the first thirteen years of…
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