I’ve made it a life practice to dip my toes every few months in the bracing but soul-refreshing waters of the writings of Puritan John Flavel during my devotions. Somehow, Flavel (whom I recently was told would have his name pronounced with a long ‘a’ and accent on the first syllable) traverses the distance of centuries for me more than many Puritan divines. Last week, I was reading in a series…

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