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A mess.

Every time I see him, every time I ask, “How are you?” He looks straight, with a bearded grin and says, “I’m a mess, Sister….That’s why I need Jesus..” Each time, it hits me like the first time. He says it because it is real to him. Because he’s ever conscious of his need. He is a mess…and so am I, but he just gets that out there, so that whatever follows, points to Jesus. Whatever follows shows me that he knows he is a mess…that he is needy…that Jesus is the only reason, and the only way to keep putting one foot in front of the other.


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