Daddy’s Hands

“Daddy I broke it,” I said as I handed Him the pieces. My face was wet with tears and I couldn’t look Him in the eye. A tear escaped out of the corner of my eye as I took a fractured breath. 
“Give it to Me, child” He said and carefully removed the jagged pieces from my curled fingers. 
My Father took His time, gently putting each piece back in its place and soldering it back together with the precious golden solder that He had for moments such as these. 
When He was done, He placed it back in my hands. Eagerly accepting it, I grabbed it in both of my hands, wanting to once again hold close the gift He’d given me. Yet, there was a part of me that was hesitant. I wasn’t sure if it was going to hold up to my rough nature. I was afraid it would break at the same places He had just melded it back together. I was thrilled to have it back in one piece, but terrified I was going to damage it again.  
Sure enough, eventually I did damage it again and once more, my Father took it in His hands and like a Master craftsman, He put it back together again. I noticed that every time I broke it, and He fixed it–and it never broke back in the same spots. For those were repairs that only the Father could make.
It seems that my Father has abundant patience with me. A child prone to wander–a child so rough that I’m continually coming back to ask for His perfect forgiveness and restoration. His love is perfect. He will rightly chasten me when needed-for He is a just God. But He is also willing to forgive when I come to Him with a fully repentant heart.

Kind of reminds me of this song..

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