His

Daddy came home a day late and is super busy at work this week. I broke another rule and I'm waiting on two punishments now. I'm fighting a cold and PMS and a bit of a fibro flare-up. Mother Nature can't seem to let go of winter and just give into spring. The meds the doctor put me on last week have me feeling like a zombie. And tomorrow, I get the test results.

But none of it matters.

Daddy got out the crop and the cane for the first time in months. I don't remember it hurting so much (and he says 'he went easy'), but it just shows how far I've drifted. From him, from us.

But over the past few days as he's played and spanked and grabbed the back of my head the way he does when I say or do something out of line, I've found myself sailing back into His harbor. As I've sat at his feet again, I've remembered and tasted and wanted and needed this.

I need to be His.

So no matter what tomorrow brings. If Daddy's job tells him he has to go away again next week or next month or next year. If it snows or rains or is 70 degrees and sunny. Or if the doctor says that I have this disease or don't have this disease or they lost the test results. None of it matters.

All that really matters...all that will every really matter.

Is that I'm His.