Boyd

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How could I know that my growing attachment to drinking was nothing more than a displaced longing for this kind of ecstatic experience of God? Besides, what would I have done differently if I’d known? I would have tried to figure out a way to have both Spirit and spirits. How else can I explain a twenty-year-old trying to swim in the depths of God, while clutching a glass of Scotch over his head?
Jesus, My Father, The CIA, and Me: A Memoir. . . of Sorts
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