It’s hard to rip the flesh out of the equation. Needs make us aware of the ability in our hands. Passion makes us aware of the energy in our shapes. Dreams make us aware of the potential in our time. Pain makes us aware of the energy in our tears. Anger makes us sense the power of our fists. We use God like a shovel. We wear God like cheap perfume. We use oils and chants as though God were a genie. Our sense of entitlement thinks God wouldn’t want us to cry. Our so called righteous indignation uses God like brass knuckles.

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