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.