When my mother died last fall, my brother gave me a letter I had written to her and my father when I was in college. It is yellowed and crinkled—like the skin on the back of my hand—and yet my mother kept it all these years. I can see why she kept it. I would have kept it too.
My parents had a huge impact on my spiritual life. I try to thank them for that guidance in this letter. I also mention a girl in the letter. I was smitten by her and scared to ask her out. Clearly, that never worked out. Thank God!
But I hope you can see that I was more smitten by Jesus than the girl.


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