God does not simply create the gift and offer it to us, if we will only climb the stairway to heaven to get it; he brings it down to us, uncurls our ungrateful fingers, and places it in our hands. (Chapter 5)
Now that is a God that I can worship, that I must worship. Not a God who begs me for my love, but a God who loves me, pursues me, a God who possesses me, who has made me a heir. A Father who loves the child in spite of their stubbornness and rebellion.
John MacArthur says it very clearly...
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