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This is my story

I was the prodigal son who came back for a craving,
but you ran out to me; now I'm never leaving

I was the woman at the well
I didn't know that I needed you until you told me so
I had never been satisfied before.

I was the leper who cried out,
cut off from your people,
cast out from your presence
But You heard, you willed, you touched and offered to cleanse

I was the woman caught red-handed
Strange- as if by appointment they chased me up to you.
Without an explanation you decreed ' no condemnation'

You dealt with me as in pompous pride I cried
Though all may flee, I will be
It’s your prayer that held me.





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