(gloryteller wrote an awesome piece about a girl and her father. Please visit his site. There is one line that I just wanted to draw attention to. Italics are his)
“Papa, lean closer . . . . please listen even if this is hard to understand. I’ve been talking to Jesus. He has been with me all through my illness. When it hurts so bad, Papa, He puts His cool hand on my head. He holds my hand while you hold the other. Papa,
He sings to me while you cry.
He tells me that you might lose your faith in Him because of me. Oh, Papa! I don’t want that! You must trust Him. Remember all the amazing things we learned about Him? They are all true, Papa!”
He sings to me while you cry. Are not these seven words some of the deepest and most precious words you can imagine. Can we not see the pure faith of a child. Can we not understand the song of the heart. Dare any man render this girl as delusional, or to try to steal from her what is divine.
He sings to me while you cry. The girl understood the music of the spirit. What words of hope, beauty, assurance, compassion, and awe. When the father despaired of life, he only needed a reminder from his joy flower that He who holds the stars, holds his daughter, and in return, he is once more reminded of the glory of God.
He sings to me while you cry. What a sweet song, to have the attention of heaven, to be inspired by tears on earth.
Original piece by gloryteller. Truth or fiction does it matter?