I was eleven years old when my father passed away. My grandma always tells me this story of how she was crying and I approached her and said, "Don't worry Grandma, daddy's in Heaven teaching the angels how to sail." She tells me how it brought her so much comfort and joy, and how that moment ministered to her breaking heart. The funny thing is that
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I woke up this morning inhaling a huge rush of crisp air streaming in through my window. With it, I was surprised to find myself bombarded with the emotions that accompany this weather. I don't know how to fully explain what happens inside of me, but it's as if the more apparent the change of season is, the more I reawaken to that contemplative,
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"God wants a people addicted to His pleasure--a people who serve Him for no other reason than the delight they take in Him. This is the very heart of true worship. It is not self-centered. It is putting God at the very center of self so that self cannot possibly be satisfied without Him."
"As we become addicted to Heaven, it spills out of us--
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