Someone has taken (or I've just lost) one of my big and favorite t-shirts I sleep in (along with most of my socks! What? Laundry thief for sure.) It smelled good and was one of the biggest I had. Last night I went into my parents room and got one of my Daddy's shirts out of his drawer. I put it on and was instantly reminded of my childhood. If a childhood could be defined by a smell mine would be defined by three: My dad, my mom, and Christmas time. The shirt wasn't as big as I remembered. I haven't slept in one of my dad's shirts since I was probably 12. It no longer went down to my knees, and the sleeves weren't super long anymore. Sure I still swam in it, but not like I used to. I'm not a kiddo anymore...not in the small way anyways.
This popped into my head.
John 1:12 - Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.
Just because I'm not as small as I was when I was twelve, doesn't mean I'm not my fathers child, or a child of God.
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