Nights were the hardest. The house was quiet, his son asleep, and he was left alone with his thoughts. He opened his Bible, the same one he had clutched a year ago when his marriage had ended. The pages fell open to the Song of Solomon, as if by memory.
“Behold, you are fair, my love; behold you are fair; you have dove’s eyes.”
The words blurred as he read them again and again. He had prayed those very words, desperate for a sign that God still saw him, that love was not finished with him. He had asked for dove eyes – and now here she was, a woman whose very name carried that meaning.
But his heart twisted. Six children. A past broken as his own. Could this really be God’s answer? Or was he enforcing meaning onto coincidence?
He closed his eyes and prayed, not with the boldness of before, but with the weariness of a man afraid to hope.
“Lord, I don’t understand. I asked for dove eyes, and You gave me…her. She’s everything I said I wanted in spirit, but not what I imagined in life. Am I missing what You’re showing me? Or am I just afraid?”
Silence filled the room, but it wasn’t empty. It pressed in on him, steady and patient, as if waiting for him to let go of his narrow picture of what an answered prayer should look like.
For the first time, he wondered if God’s answer had been standing in front of him all along – not in the shape he expected, but in the heart he needed.
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