A gift from a father to his child

There is morning at the end of the night.A fact that every individual across every spectrum of age and class knows.It is with this one truth that every human being lives his life and dies.Every night is spend waiting for day and every day is spend in the anticipation of night.As I was waiting for my night to end I must have reminded myself this fact a million times.With it I reminded myself of gods eternal grace over my life.Then too at times I floundered and saw myself cursing the gift of life.Helplessness and disappointment can be the most destructive of catalysts.Yet in the our when the night seems the most dark and these two draconian invaders are knocking the walls of your sanity to pieces.
There is a thin rope of hope that you hold on to.
The hope that takes birth from the womb of faith.You suddenly look up and see that glittering rays of gold are blessing you with their light.That moment night turns to day and before you know it you are basking in the glow of truth and love. The first rays of morning, the first eaves of corn, the first calf of the season ,the first child of a mother.Every first is a blessing of god.Expressing his abundant love for you.A mark that tells you I am there to hold your hand and walk the extra mile.In times of intense pain I hold you in my arms and try and ease it away. In my arms you sleep when you cross every difficulty I am there to bless your life with a smile a gift from a father to his child.