We all remember the old Pastors and Sunday school ladies who smelled funny. Their breath could kill a rat at 50 paces we joked.
Well Jesus, I thank you for giving me these problems now.
Job, chapter 17
We as children mocked our elders! Yet, Jesus has inflicted me too. And I thank him, because I have contacted those I mocked and begged forgiveness. Thank you Jesus that I suffer on earth, that I gain entrance into Heaven.
Well Jesus, I thank you for giving me these problems now.
Job, chapter 17
"1": My breath is corrupt, my days are extinct, the graves are ready for me.
"2": Are there not mockers with me? and doth not mine eye continue in their provocation?
"2": Are there not mockers with me? and doth not mine eye continue in their provocation?

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