Kill the fattened calf. Wrap her in the best garment. Put a ring on her finger. We're going to party!
When I heard the gospel of the Prodigal Son read at church two weeks ago, I couldn't help but think about Stacey coming home for this weekend even though she is in no way prodigal. No matter, it is a father's great joy, and certainly mine, every time I see any of my children. Lord forgive me my excessive pride.
'o.o'
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