I was dead... like the whole house of Israel in Eze. 37, there were only artifacts as evidence that I once breathed. I was nominally a part of the "house of Israel" in a spiritual sense, but knew no Joy. Then I really met Jesus. Now I live... Daily I lay down the death that is somewhere in my past and at times tries to reach out and grab me. Praise be to God that not even Satan, the master of death, can move me from the hand of Christ!
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