“Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
I'm a mid-thirties pastor who thinks it's all about Jesus and the church is hurtin' and I love my family and I get angry when I'm lonely around people and get energized conversing about truth and am impatient with comfortable believers and at home with non believers who believe and I'm discovering my faith is not a period but sometimes an exclamation point and sometimes a question mark and always a dot dot dot...
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