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The Frozen Chosen

Standing in the narthex of the church on the last summer day of July, Lexi shook hands with the few and the proud that had come to worship that morning. With each handshake, she heard the typical comments.

“Nice sermon.”

“Thanks for worship today.”

Lexi hated these comments. She wanted to know more. She wanted to know what made her sermon so “nice” or why someone would thank her for worship when it was supposed to be the work of the people. And yet, she couldn’t allow herself to get lost in these thoughts. She was greeting her church family. She was grateful to be among them.

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