I don't believe in an interventionist God,
but I know, darling, that you do.
But if I did, I would kneel down and ask Him
not to intervene when it came to you.
Not to touch a hair on your head
to leave you as you are,
and if He felt He had to direct you,
then direct you into my arms.
Into my arms, O Lord.
Into my arms, O Lord.
Into my arms, O Lord.
Into my arms.
This song explains life way too perfectly.
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(New Anthro sweater; thank you, boy that loves me.)
Can you spot the differences in this picture from my last? Haha...
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