Clean Socks

A couple years ago, a friend called and asked if she could come over for prayer. As we were sitting on my bed, she started crying…weeping…bawling. In moments like those, rising to grab tissue may interrupt the Holy Spirit, so normally, I let the tears be wiped away, but this time, she “really” needed something more than a hand, and right next to me was a basket of clean laundry. I asked her, “Want a sock; it’s clean?” At the sound of that question, she lost it.
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