What is it about a tiny baby that reduces a man to a babbling, infantile being spewing gibberish and nonsense like he’s lost his mind? This happens to me daily any time I see one of the four babies living here at Mercy House or whenever I spend time with my five-month-old grandson.
You have a masterpiece inside you, waiting to be painted. One unlike any that has ever been created, or ever will be. Paint me a masterpiece.