Pater, He calls Him.
Father.
Author of family, animated by the same spirit as Himself. One who has infused His own spirit into others.
Stained and imperfect child, sibling of the Son, I am written into this holy
family by the Word who lives and loves, dies and lives again. He uses living Words to join me to His heart. 
I love the truth of being written into salvation, of being part of a novel that never ends. The same Author who fingered His will onto tablets of stone, has written me into the Book of Life. Being created in His image, I understand now, the passion for words, spoken and written, read and scribed, running through the chord that connects us.
He gives life through His living Word, who became the Author and Perfecter of my faith. What a relief to know that I do not have to perfect my faith. It’s already done.
He infuses His Spirit into me through words that are active and living, sharper than any two-edged sword. I want to skip over that, sure that I understand, but I am prompted to dig further. He’s working, this Spirit-Author. So I search, and discover what He knows I need. The dictionary defines infusing as “to put into or introduce as if by pouring, or “to fill or cause to be filled with something.”
I am reminded, then, that to be filled, to be infused, I must first be emptied. For my story to be written, I must offer up the pages (and the eraser!). That is something to think on.
It’s a glorious and hopeful Truth, to be authored into a family, to be infused by the Spirit,
to be
written.
