Flying bee

By flyingqueenbee

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I don't wonder anymore what I'll tell God when I go to heaven, when we sit in the chairs under the tree, outside the city.
...
I'll tell these things to God, and he'll laugh, I think, and he'll remind me of the parts I forgot, the parts that were his favorites. We'll sit and remember my story together, and then he'll stand and put his arms around me and say, "Well done," and that he liked my story. And my soul won't be thirsty anymore.


A Million Miles in a Thousand Years - Donald Miller

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