We could hear running and shouting and the jumping off of bunkbeds coming from the three kids playing in the back bedroom.
All of a sudden the two-year-old came running in, looking distressed. She threw herself on Korie's chest, words tumbling out urgently, too fast and toddler-spoken for me to make them out.
Korie, still looking up and laughing at something Brandon had said, smoothed her hair. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
She repeated her question, more urgently, more distressed.
"What is your name?". Korie looked amused and confused. "Well, what is your name?"
The tiny girl stared at her very seriously.
"I can't remember."
Korie got solemn.
She put her hands on her daughter's cheeks and looked deeply into her eyes.
She told her her name.
The baby's shoulders visibly relaxed and she smiled. All distress gone, she immediately dashed off to find her big brother and cousin and resume playing.
The person who loves her best had reminded her of who she was. All was well.
"...He is the one who can tell us the reason for our existence,
our place in the scheme of things, our real identity...
how we have chased around the world for answers to that riddle,
looked in the eyes of others for some hint, some clue,
hunted in the multiple worlds of pleasure and experience and self-fulfillment
for some glimpse, some revelation, some wisdom, some authority
to tell us our right name and our true destination...
but there was, and is, only One who can tell us this:
the Lord Himself...
He will whisper it to us
not in the mad rush and fever of our striving
and our fierce determination to be someone,
but rather when we are content to rest in Him,
to put ourselves into His keeping, into His hands."