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I'm living in better housing now than I ever have as an independent adult. I love the parsonage and I feel very comfortable with our funishings. But when I visited a parishioner at home yesterday, I had a moment in which I thought of myself as living in poverty. And it's pure nonsense. It's hard to learn to be content with the blessings that we have (as meaningless as the material things of this world are, anyway) and the solution is, as you say, to throw ourselves as the mercy seat of God.

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