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.