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Again my hand reached into the crib to stroke her head and her back. As she was comforted into sleep I was overcome with the similarities between her interaction with me and the way I interact with God. How many times has God tried to take care of me? How many times have I resisted what was in my best interest? How many times did I flail and become distraught with fear, convinced that I was abandoned, pleading, "Are you there? I need you!" In my distress God hears. Rushes in AGAIN. Places a hand over me. And I can sleep.
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