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Two years before my father died, my parents once again opened the box containing all the love letters which they had written each other while my father was away during World War II in the Army Air Corps. They decided that each evening they would open the box and read each other a letter they had written. After the children had been raised and retirement had come, they were remembering what had brought them to this place. They started with the earliest letters and went in order through the creased pages whose ink was now fading. Night after night they reminded each other of their love by reading those wonderful words that lived like magic in their hearts, and kept their love alive during the war. While the war was raging on, and life was uncertain, they treasured each letter that arrived. Because they were temporarily separated, they read them alone — not once, but over and over again. As they read, they could see the other’s face and hear the other’s voice through the words. Romance swelled in their hearts as they longed for each other. Those letters were among their most important possessions.

In one Book we have many love letters from God bound in one volume. As we read them, we hear his voice...

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