Your Hurt May Make You Sensitive To God’s Voice

I’ve banned my wife from making oatmeal cookies at home.

Because they are so good, I eat them until I look like a preacher/sumo wrestler, a sumo-preacher.
One night, not long before bedtime I got nostalgic for her cookies and I asked her to make a small batch. Voilà, a little while later 15  warm cookies appeared in the kitchen.
She forgot to watch me, though, and 45 minutes later all of them had evaporated. Or at least they disappeared somehow.
A few ticks of the clocks later, I found myself in bed unable to slee, a sugar high racing through my bloodstream.
“Why?” I asked myself.
Actually, I knew why. Oatmeal cookies are too good. They’re all linked together. If you eat one cookie, the others follow automatically.

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