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God spoke to me today.
The clouds didn’t part. There was no clap of thunder, no voice from a burning bush.
It was no less profound.
The moment was ordinary, the kind that happens several times every day. The baby was sleeping in the swing, and I was sitting on the floor, playing dinosaurs with Grace, my 3-1/2-year-old.
The Lord chose the mama T-rex to convict my sinful heart of wrongdoing.
And convict, he did.
His words, through the mouth of my daughter and a plastic dinosaur, pierced me, making me realize how awful I’ve been.
Read the rest at (in)courage, where I’m a guest author today.
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