Abba
May 3, 2011
She often looked at his hands from a distance. She wanted to have her small hand wrapped up in his and be led.
The impulse felt childish and foolish. She tried to ignore it and reminded herself that she was a big girl. Abba had taught her so much already–
Then she would remember how more often than not, Abba would find her with a scraped knee, crying in the dirt and he wouldn’t just hold her hand, he would pick her up.
“Abba, you’re so strong,” she would say.
He’d smile at her and reply, “Yes, and you know that I’m always here for you.”
She would close her eyes and bury her face into his shoulder.
.
.
.
Abba, once again I’ve fallen and sit in the dirt. It’s cold and raining and no matter how many times I try to stand up and make everything right, I’m slipping and falling. My body aches and the cold of the elements are seeping into the very core of my bones.
Abba, please come save me.
