I have the greatest Father I know. He teaches me everything from the day I was born till the day I would breath my last. One of the greatest lessons I learned, and is still learning and would be learning, is the art of walking; for life is a journey, and journey must I.
At first He holds my hand. When I already know the step He would let me go, though I am still afraid and still not confident of my capacity. At times He just watches me. At times He seems to be out of sight; yet every time I fall He is always there to catch me. Sadly, there are times when He allows me to fall. I will get scars and bruises and all. These are the times I learn to be extra careful the next time and promise myself not to be hurt again. But I am such a weak creature. No matter how much I try, still my steps falter. So many times I cry; so many times my Father kisses my tears goodbye.
Once I sit planning not to make another step again. My Father nudge me to go on and says, life is not about walking perfectly--it's about taking the small steps to reach the destination. So every time I fall and fail, I keep reminding myself, get up, take another step and reach the destination. And when I falter, I smile to my Loving Father who smiles at me back. I then start to love my journey with wounds, with bruises and all. My soul is ever thankful to have God as my greatest Dad.
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