My Daily Walk with a Person for Others

One morning, when I returned to my car after my workout, the parking attendant told me he was taking a walk in his neighborhood and saw a building with James’s name on it. “Is it our James?” he asked. Yes, it is. I told him a story James told me long ago. He was an alcoholic, made a mess out of everything, and found himself in prison, at rock bottom. It was there in prison, as he got clean, that he could hear God’s voice more clearly. He knew he was loved by God, and he wanted others to know that love.

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