Where The Wild Things Are

The night Max wore his wolf suit . . . and made mischief of one kind . . . and another…

Was the night I started to worry.

That very night in Max’s room a forest grew . . . and grew . . .

And I looked for Max – in the forest – I cried out to him, held out my arms  for him.

And when he came to the place where the wild things are they roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws.

Those claws sunk into him, they ripped him up, they shredded his suit, they tore his life apart, and they…

…made him king of all wild things.

Max was empowered, he was living life in wild rumpus mode, he felt invincible.  We couldn’t find him.

Then all around from far away across the world he smelled good things to eat so he gave up being king of where the wild things are

My beautiful boy was home.  The child that has so much heart, so much love, so much feeling was back.  He had…

…sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day

Max worked so hard to become all he was meant to be.  He smiled, he loved, he soared.

But the wild things are calling him back.  They are gnashing and clawing and rolling their eyes at him again.  He wants to be king, he wants to work, he wants to love, he wants to live.

Please pray that Max finds his way to sail back to us.



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