there is the golden gilded linens in the souls of saints
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whom neither dress in fine things of the world, yet sail
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in God’s harbor, a within, their own surrendering service
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to His . poorest of the poor on the streets, bearing not
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to them the world’s finest seven coursed meals, but only
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His . daily bread in provision, and within the persevering
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virtue to serve to cleanse their own blood sweat and tears
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their holy vomit and diarrheal soaked clothing and affairs.
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this service, my dear ones, is the exchange in humilities,
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between one serving and another being served, in Christ,
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his holy….for holy is found not in the golden gilded castles
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of the world, but within the temples of His . saints the holy .
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for a saint serves the poorest where he finds himself poorest
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look not around to ask who is a saint, but look within to ask
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where is a saint, is he present, draped in virtues of holy God,
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or is he out there around, painting an elusive pain of the thorn .
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where is one’s saint….his own mother his own father, humbly