I am sitting here on this cold early morning watching the sun rise and the day unfold. I see puffs of smoke billowing out of the chimney from the house across the street. As I watch it rise, I am struck that this is how our lives are to God. What rises to Him is the stench of unholy living or the sweet smell of worship.
In this incredibly clear, amazing sky where the light hides nothing, I want my smoke to be fragrant and not pollute perfection.
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