Alone, unsure, one haunting question consumes, frustrates, each facet of this life.
You were never told who you truly are, you are more than you have become. I've set apart a name for you: Beloved Son.
Identity is a gaping wound inside of you. Given a name, the true son of a Father, you have a place no one else can ever fill. Your strength is needed now and always.
One day true belonging, your heart forever prized, will be no more a hopeless longing.
All these years of restlessness I will erase. Your name is written on my hands.
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