After church one Sunday, little Johnny walked up to the pastor.
"Pastor," he said, "I heard you say today that our bodies came from the dust."
"That's right, Johnny, I did," he said.
"And I heard you say that when we die, our bodies go back to dust."
"Yes, I'm glad you were listening," the pastor replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Well you better come over to our house right away and look under my bed 'cause there's someone either comin' or goin'!"
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I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! -Psalm 139:14
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