My excitement about working in the yard that weekend was a tangible expression of how I used to feel about my work. In the beginning, I was passionate to write and teach with energy to spare, coming up with new ideas and concepts each day and even into the night. God would press thoughts onto my heart, and I’d jot them down as quickly as they came. But over the years, that passion began to wane. I wanted that endless energy back, where I’d pour over volumes of research and study for long hours, my nose buried in books. I wanted to recover the same kind of passion and energy for writing and
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