As I stare over a brunette's uneven parted crown, the sweet aroma of Johnson's Vanilla Oatmeal wash emits through the air. With each gentle stroke of a fine toothed comb through my daughter's fine whimsy locks that curl right at the base of her neck, I am reminded of just how blessed I truely am. God chose me to be her's and chose her to be mine. What Grace that is to be given such a precious gift.
Ecclesiastes 11:5 As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. I give thanks to my God upon every remembrance of you. ~Philippians 1:2-3
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