Dust to Dunamis

In God’s economy, there are no coincidences. The Ascension took place on the Mount of Olives, the very ground where Christ will one day set His feet again, as Zechariah 14:4 promises. Today, the Dome of the Ascension sits as a marker. The disciples never set out to make it a shrine or tourist site, but it testifies to the reality of what happened there: Christ rose into heaven, reigns now, and will one day return. The Ascension is not about His absence, it is about His enthronement. When we read Acts 1, we see that the disciples still misunderstood what Jesus was doing. They had just been promised the Holy Spirit, but their first thought was, “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” In other words, “Is this the conquering moment?” They wanted to know when. Jesus’ answer was firm: “It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father has put in His own authority.” We are dust, and God is sovereign. The times are hidden on purpose, so we must live as if Jesus could return any second, but also endure and work as if He may not return for generations. That balance keeps us urgent yet faithful. Instead of giving them a timeline, Jesus gave them power. Not political power, not military power, but spiritual power the very thing they needed for the mission ahead. Scripture uses different words for power: “kratos” is conquering power, “ischus” is raw strength, and “exousia” is delegated authority, but “dunamis” is inherent, Spirit-filled power that makes the impossible possible. It is the word used for miracles and all the miraculous work of God breaking into the world. And that is exactly what Jesus promised: “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you.” It was dunamis that carried the apostles to proclaim the gospel, to forgive enemies, to endure persecution, and even to die as martyrs. It is dunamis that brings revival and awakening. In the Spirit, we can. Period. By His power, we can forgive, we can endure, we can proclaim, and the world is changed. 

The scope of the mission was staggering. They were told to begin in Jerusalem, the very city that had crucified the Lord. Then to Judea, the region that had rejected Him. Then Samaria, a place despised for its “half-breed” people. And finally to the ends of the earth to Gentiles, to outsiders, to every nation. This command was socially and ethically revolutionary. No one thought in those terms. Yet Jesus gave them the Spirit’s dunamis to face every place of hostility and every wall of division, with the assurance that they would never go alone. As Jesus was lifted up and taken by a cloud, the disciples stood staring upward in awe. But they also stood in need of direction. That direction came through the words of two angels: “This same Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will so come in like manner as you saw Him go into heaven.” His return is not a vague hope, it is a certainty. Zechariah 14:4 promises His feet will stand again on the Mount of Olives. Revelation 1:7 declares that every eye will see Him. We will not miss it. Until that day, our call is clear: to live vigilant, Spirit-led, mission-driven lives. The Ascension, then, is not about Jesus leaving; it is about Jesus reigning. He sits enthroned, He has given us His Spirit, and He will return. Our response is to trust God’s timing, walk in the Spirit’s dunamis, go wherever He sends, even into difficult places, and watch with hope for the King’s return. Until that day, we move forward with vigilance and faithfulness.

Pentecost marks the initial outpouring of the Spirit upon the Church, where the divisions of Babel begin to be healed, the promise of Ezekiel is fulfilled, and the covenant moves from the external law to the internal Spirit. Pentecost means “fiftieth.” It came fifty days after Passover. Jesus appeared for 40 days after the resurrection, then ascended (Acts 1:3–9). The disciples waited ten more days until Pentecost. So the Spirit came exactly on the day God planned that. Moses received the Law on Mount Sinai during Pentecost. So on the same day God once gave the Law to Israel, He now gave the Spirit to the Church. The Law separated Israel from the nations; the Spirit now separates believers from sin. 

“Tongues as of fire” (Acts 2:3) rested on each of them. Fire throughout Scripture symbolizes God’s presence that purifies without consuming, like the burning bush in Exodus 3. John the Baptist said, “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Luke 3:16). That’s what’s happening here. Tongues as of fire is a metaphor for the singularity event of the 12 plus 120 people when the Spirit came down on them. The Greek word glōssolalia means “tongues,” and it’s clear in Acts 2 that this refers to real human languages. The crowd says, “Each of us hears in our own language.” These were not private spiritual utterances but recognizable speech. Either the disciples were supernaturally speaking known foreign languages, or the crowd was given a supernatural ability to hear and interpret. Either way, it’s God’s doing. The miracle’s meaning is unity, not confusion. 

Genesis 11 describes the Tower of Babel, where humanity tried to build a tower to heaven. God confused their languages and scattered them. Babel represents humanity’s prideful attempt to reach God. Pentecost is the reversal, not because humans succeeded this time, but because God came down. At Babel, language is divided. At Pentecost, language is united not by one language, but by the same Spirit working through many languages. It’s not man reaching God, it’s God reaching man. In the Old Testament, the Holy Spirit came and went. Saul lost the Spirit (1 Samuel 16:14). David prayed, “Take not your Holy Spirit from me” (Psalm 51:11). The Spirit’s presence was temporary and selective. After Pentecost, that changes. Ephesians 1:13–14 says believers are “sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance.” The Spirit is now permanent. We don’t lose Him like Saul did, yet it is our duty to walk with Him. Acts 2 shows tongues as a sign connected to the gospel reaching new people groups. Whenever you see tongues again in Acts (like Acts 10 with Cornelius or Acts 19 with the Ephesian disciples), it happens as the gospel crosses a boundary. It’s a visible, audible sign that God is including another group into His Church. 

Paul later explains in 1 Corinthians 13:8–10 that spiritual gifts like tongues and prophecy will eventually cease, but love remains. Tongues were never the center; they were signs of expansion (this returns later).  The Spirit’s main role isn’t to create a show or perform signs. Just as the Law set Israel apart from other nations, the Spirit now sets Christians apart from the world. The Spirit separates us from sin. The Church’s distinctness isn’t from rituals but from being indwelt by the Spirit. Romans 8:9 says, “Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.” Pentecost took place during a festival when Jews from “every nation under heaven” were gathered in Jerusalem (Acts 2:5). God used that high-attendance moment intentionally as the “racket” that drew a crowd. It’s a divine strategy: when everyone is gathered, the gospel first goes public. But human reactions split: some were amazed, others mocked. That pattern always repeats. God acts, and humanity divides, some are drawn in, others harden. This is not written to fully promote a cessationist viewpoint, for God can do whatever He wills, whenever He wills. His power is not bound by our expectations or traditions. Nor is this to neglect the New Testament warnings against grieving the Holy Spirit, as Paul writes in Ephesians 4:30: ‘Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.’ To grieve the Spirit is to resist His sanctifying work, to persist in bitterness, impurity, or disobedience, and to live contrary to the holy life He seeks to form within us. Therefore, we honor the Spirit not only by recognizing His power, but by yielding to His purpose to unite us fully with Christ in faith, obedience, and love.

True discernment is not born of mere intellect or instinct, it is a gift from God. Discernment flows from a mind renewed by Scripture and a heart humbled in prayer. It is the product of communion with God, not clever reasoning. The closer we draw to Him, the more clearly we begin to see truth, for He is truth. The Spirit refines our perception, teaching us to distinguish between conviction and compulsion, between God’s call and self-will. God often allows situations that expose our motives. A decision that looks righteous under excitement may prove hollow under hardship. That is why life must be measured by faithfulness, not intensity. Many people burn brightly for a moment, but discernment is proven in steadfast endurance, continuing to obey even when emotion fades. The tests of discernment come through Scripture, inner conviction and confirmation from the body of Christ. Every “leading” must align with God’s Word. True conviction must persist even when it is unglamorous, even when no one is watching. Others grounded in faith can affirm or gently correct our understanding. God works through His people.

Ephesians 4:26 commands, “Be angry and do not sin.” The emotion itself is not sin, it can reflect a moral awareness of evil or injustice. Yet James 1:20 warns, “The anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.” Human anger, when untethered from humility, often misfires. It seeks revenge rather than redemption. Jesus demonstrated perfect discernment in His anger. When He cleansed the temple (John 2:13–17), it was not personal offense but zeal for God’s holiness that moved Him. His wrath was pure because it was selfless and aligned with the Father’s will. Yet on the cross, when He faced unspeakable injustice, He prayed, “Father, forgive them.” His restraint revealed divine love in its fullest measure. We must ask ourselves: After my anger passes, do I feel closer to God’s heart or drained and hardened? Righteous anger leads to repentance and restoration. Destructive anger leaves a trail of damage and regret. Anger that seeks retaliation is not righteous, it is rebellion against God’s justice. Jesus warned that anger in the heart is the root of murder (Matthew 5:21–22). To wish harm or vengeance is to step into the territory of sin before a single act is done. God alone is the Judge. To retaliate is to usurp His authority. Discernment teaches us that no matter how justified our emotions feel, retaliation corrupts the heart and distances us from Christ. If we are ever prosecuted or persecuted for our faith, we should expect it rather than fight back in unrighteous fury. Jesus said, “If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you” (John 15:20). The early Christians did not retaliate when beaten or mocked; they rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer for His name. Sometimes faithfulness is shown not by winning an argument, but by bearing witness through calm endurance. The goal is not victory in the world’s terms, but obedience in God’s eyes. False intensity burns hot and fast; it often depends on emotion or pride. Faithfulness is steady and humble; it depends on grace. The aim should be not to measure life by bursts of passion, but by quiet, consistent obedience. To be discerning is to be anchored in truth, ruled by love, and guided by the Spirit. It is to see as God sees, to act as Christ would act, and to remain steadfast even when the world mocks or misunderstands. Yet even with our best efforts, we stumble often. But His mercy endures. It is staggering to think that the God who formed the stars stoops to forgive dust. That He not only loves us but truly delights in us. To be used by Him at all is a grace beyond measure; to be rewarded for it is unfathomable. He knows our weaknesses, our hidden thoughts, and even how we feel  and still He calls us His own. 

“The twenty-four elders fall down before Him who sits on the throne and worship Him who lives forever and ever. They cast their crowns before the throne and say: ‘Our Lord and God, You are worthy to receive glory and honor and power, because You have created all things, and by Your will they exist and were created.’”- Revelation 4:10–11 The crowns represent rewards for faithful service the fruits of obedience and perseverance in this life. Scripture confirms that believers receive crowns for faithful endurance 1 Corinthians 9:25 says “Now everyone who competes exercises self-control in everything. They do it to receive a perishable crown, but we have an imperishable crown.” (2 Timothy 4:8 – “There is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me, but to all those who have loved His appearing.”)(1 Peter 5:4 – “And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory.”) But in Revelation 4, the elders don’t keep those crowns. They cast them down before the  throne. Because even the best of what we did, even our faithfulness, endurance, and good works was all God’s grace working through us. In heaven, no one will say, “Look what I earned.” They’ll say, “Worthy are You, Lord.”

 Without faith, no work pleases God (Hebrews 11:6). Yet at the same time James says “You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone.”-  James 2:24 At first glance, that seems to contradict Paul’s declaration “For we conclude that a person is justified by faith apart from the works of the law.”- Romans 3:28 but in greater context we can see that they are each addressing different questions. Paul addresses how one is made right before God, by faith alone in Christ, as he says: “To the one who does not work, but believes on Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is credited as righteousness” (Romans 4:5). James answers the question “How is that faith shown to be real?” and His answer is by works that flow from that faith. True faith is not a static belief it is a living union with Christ Himself, and when in union with the vine you must produce good fruit. “I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in Me and I in him produces much fruit, because you can do nothing without Me.”- John 15:5. To believe in Christ is not merely to agree with a doctrine, it is to be grafted into His life. When the branch is joined to the vine, the sap of divine power flows through it. Thus, true faith naturally bears fruit. Abraham believed God in Genesis 15:6 that was his faith. But years later, in Genesis 22, when he offered up Isaac, his faith was proven genuine. His obedience didn’t create faith; it confirmed it. The Christian life, then, is neither a moral performance. Its about surrender to the Holy Spirit’s dunamis. “He exercised this power in Christ by raising Him from the dead and seating Him at His right hand in the heavens.”- Ephesians 1:19–20 This same resurrection power works in us not to glorify self, but to magnify Christ.

In Luke 7, a Roman centurion sends two groups of messengers to Jesus about his sick servant. The first group says: “He is worthy for You to grant this, because he loves our nation and has built us a synagogue.”-Luke 7:4–5 They approach Jesus with merit-based reasoning  “He’s done good things, so he deserves your help.” It’s the same mindset humanity has carried since the fall: earn favor through works. But the centurion himself sends another message, “Lord, don’t trouble Yourself, since I am not worthy to have You come under my roof. That is why I didn’t even consider myself worthy to come to You. But say the word, and my servant will be healed.”- Luke 7:6–7 Here, humility replaces pride. He recognizes his own unworthiness and trusts solely in Jesus’ authority. He doesn’t rely on what he’s done he rests on who Jesus is. Jesus marvels at this faith, saying,”I tell you, I have not found so great a faith even in Israel.” Luke 7:9 This Gentile soldier understood what many religious Jews did not: faith isn’t earned; it’s received. Good deeds can mask pride, but humility opens the door for mercy. “God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble.”- James 4:6  The first messengers appeal to works. The second appeals to grace. Even our best works have no eternal worth unless they are done through Christ.“Each one’s work will become obvious, for the day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire; the fire will test the quality of each one’s work.” 1 Corinthians 3:13. If the work was done for Christ and through Christ, it endures. If it was done for self, it burns not because the effort itself was bad, but because its foundation was not eternal. Jesus said plainly “You can do nothing without Me.” Any labor not rooted in God’s will eventually fades. The only reason we can contribute to eternal work at all is because of Christ’s finished work on the cross. Nazareth saw Him and said, “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” (Luke 4:22). They had proximity without faith. But the centurion, far off in distance and nationality, recognized divine authority and believed. One was near yet blind; the other distant yet full of faith. 

I’ve walked miles fishing in small streams, sat for hours on ice, and caught nothing. It’s frustrating when it’s just a hobby, but imagine if it were your livelihood if success meant survival. This is the scene Luke 5 paints: Simon Peter and his companions, weary and discouraged, had fished all night with nothing to show. And yet, when Jesus tells them to try again, they obey and their nets overflow. God often chooses to work in our weakness, exhaustion, and failure not when we feel strong or capable. It’s in those moments that not ours, but His power shines. God called Gideon to deliver Israel from the Midianites, but Gideon was hesitant and self-conscious: “But Lord, how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest, and I am the least in my family” (Judges 6:15). God intentionally chose the “weakest” man to show that the victory would come from His power, not Gideon’s. God then drastically reduced Gideon’s army from 32,000 to 300 men (Judges 7:2–7), removing any human boasting. The victory over the Midianites was utterly impossible by human standards, yet Gideon’s obedience allowed God’s power to shine. 

When Peter saw the catch, he reacted in awe and fear: “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Luke 5:8). He realized confronting God’s holiness always exposes our sin. Isaiah cried, “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5). Ezekiel fell prostrate before God’s glory. A deeper awareness of God’s purity doesn’t shame us for its own sake, it convicts us so we might be transformed. Like a surgeon shining light on a wound, God exposes our brokenness not to condemn, but to heal. And just as Isaiah’s guilt was taken away before he was sent, Peter’s trembling was met with reassurance and calling: “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men” (Luke 5:10). Peter’s vocation changed overnight. The skills he had patience, perseverance, and teamwork were redirected from fishing to the gospel. God does the same with us. Our experiences, our weaknesses, our “failures,” become tools in His kingdom when surrendered. They left everything, not for miracles, but for Jesus Himself. The catch of fish was astonishing, yet it was a personal encounter with the living God that compelled their obedience. Jesus calls first to relationship, then to mission. Without knowing Him, even the best efforts become chaotic. Spirit-led work bears fruit; human effort alone produces nothing but exhaustion. Everything passes. Emotions are transient. They cannot anchor our spiritual lives. Happiness, grief, and anger are all fleeting. If we base our obedience, our zeal, or our witness on these shifting currents, we will be tossed like a boat in the storm. When confronted by holiness we are to act like Peter or Isaiah and first repent, then be cleansed, and then sent. We must come to Christ first since He is the one who has the power to complete the mission for apart from Him, we have no power or authority to fulfill the mission. It is His strength, not ours, that carries the message and brings fruit.

Faith is not a rejection of reason, but neither is it founded on reason. True faith uses reason as a servant but never confuses it for God Himself. Scripture calls us to “be ready to give a defense to anyone who asks for a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15). This is apologetics, a persuasive evangelism that shows our faith is not blind, but deeply rooted in truth. Yet even the strongest argument cannot make a dead heart believe. Reason is a servant of faith, not its master.“Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” (Ecclesiastes 12:13). All the study, philosophy, and intellectual effort in the world cannot replace reverence and obedience. “Much study wearies the body” (Eccl. 12:12), because knowledge alone, without the Spirit’s power, becomes just another burden. Faith with understanding means knowing why you believe but resting your confidence not in your own intellect but rather in the living God who gave you understanding in the first place. Our faith must be measured not by excitement, emotion, or outrage, but by relationship with Christ. Emotional highs and bursts of zeal can deceive us; they fade. But relationship endures. We are all born fallen, separated from God and spiritually powerless. It is only when we come into contact with Christ that new life begins. When you look into the night sky, you are staring into the handwriting of God. Each star burns with a silent testimony. The psalmist said, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands” (Psalm 19:1). The stars are not scattered at random; they were hung by His flaming fingertips and held in place by His omnipotence. He calls them each by name (Isaiah 40:26).

 Holiness is not a moral code; it is the very essence of God’s being, so pure, so unapproachable, and yet so compelling that it both breaks us and remakes us. It is an ineffable, awe-filled experience that human language can barely touch. That’s why some things about God, especially the mystery of the Trinity cannot be reduced to analogy. Any earthly comparison collapses under the weight of divine reality. We can say God is love because we experience love, but we have never experienced what it is to be immaterial, eternal, and self-existent. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are not like water, or light, or the sun they are beyond all likeness. Only God Himself can reveal what He is like, and He has chosen to reveal that truth through Christ and the Spirit, not through human imagination. We cannot explain everything and that is okay. I’m no prophet, no apostle. Just a man made in God’s image like the rest. caught between the world’s largest city and the state capital, somewhere between the known and the overlooked. I’ve walked through darkness deep enough to swallow me, pain I had no strength to climb out of. And yet, Christ met me there. His grace found me when nothing else could. I have nothing to boast of but His mercy that still holds me up. God willing, I’ll keep moving forward. Morality flows from our image of being in Christ but morals alone are not Holy. Holy is Holy, Christ is Holy. Isaiah 55:8-9 says “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways.This is the Lord’s declaration. “ For as heaven is higher than earth, so my ways are higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” But Psalm 103:11-12 says, “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his faithful love toward those who fear him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.” As high as the heavens are above the earth, so are His ways and as far as the east is from the west, so is His mercy toward us. God’s holiness is an overwhelming, ineffable mystery that terrifies and draws us in, His ways and judgment higher than the heavens, yet through Christ His boundless love and grace sustain us in darkness we could never endure on our own.

When all is said and done, only one thing remains eternal, love. Paul writes, “Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love-but the greatest of these is love.”- 1 Corinthians 13:13 Faith is essential. Works testify. Hope endures through trial. But love transcends all. Faith may move mountains, yet Paul says, “If I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so that I can move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I give away all my possessions and if I give over my body in order to boast but do not have love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. Love does not envy, is not boastful or arrogant, is not rude, is not self seeking, is not irritable, and does not keep a record of wrongs. Love finds no joy in unrighteousness but rejoices in the truth, It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things.” -1 Corinthians 13:2-7 Love is the character of God and even more than that God is love. Even faith and repentance are not born of human willpower. They are gifts from God, graciously given: “For you are saved by grace through faith, and this is not from yourselves; it is God’s gift.”- Ephesians 2:8 “When they heard this, they became silent. And they glorified God, saying, ‘So then, God has given repentance resulting in life even to the Gentiles.’”- Acts 11:18. Those mentioned in the “faith hall of fame” of Hebrews 11, trusted God with unshakable faith. Yet even they have now laid that faith aside, for faith is “the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). When we are “absent from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8) faith is no longer needed, because the promise is fully realized in His presence. What remains forever is love. When Jesus spoke of John the Baptist, He declared something stunning “I tell you, among those born of women no one is greater than John, but the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” Luke 7:28.  John stood at the hinge of redemptive history, the final voice of the old covenant prophets, the forerunner who prepared the way for the Messiah Himself. No ordinary man born of a woman surpassed him in prophetic role or morality. His greatness was measured by his mission to make ready a people for the Lord. Yet Jesus was revealing a shift in dimension not a downgrade of John, but the introduction of a new reality. 

We know of the Resurrection, yet John did not witness it in his life. John saw the dawn where we live in the daylight. Hebrews 11 concludes by saying “All these were approved through their faith, but they did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, so that they would not be made perfect without us.”- Hebrews 11:39–40 That “something better” is Christ Himself. : though Christ’s death and resurrection occurred within time, He Himself is eternal and outside of time. When we die and are “absent from the body” and “at home with the Lord” we step beyond the linear sequence of earthly history. We enter the timeless presence of the Eternal One. This means that the faithful who died before the cross, such as Abraham, Moses, David, and the prophets are not waiting in some chronological gap, separated from Christ until the resurrection of His body on earth’s timeline. Rather, through faith, they too are united with the same Christ, because His redemptive work transcends time. Their faith was credited as righteousness (Genesis 15:6), but it was made complete only through the finished work of the cross. Christ’s blood reached into both past and future, because His love is not bound by chronology. So those saints who trusted in the promise before its fulfillment are now joined with us in its completion. What unites every believer across the ages is the same eternal reality that Christ was crucified and rose again. His love authored creation, entered time to redeem it, and will remain when time itself dissolves. So when all the doctrine settles, when the debates fade, and our striving quiets down, it really comes to this, sit in the presence of God. Don’t get all wrapped up in the noise, the pride, the constant performance, or the religious showmanship. Just be real. Be still. Be loving. 

Brother Lawrence, a 17th-century monk known in the writings “The Practice of the Presence of God” understood this. He wasn’t a scholar or preacher; he washed dishes in a monastery kitchen. But he found more holiness in scrubbing pots while talking to God than many ever find in public ministry. He said, “We ought not to be weary of doing little things for the love of God, who regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed.” Because when you’re with Him, everything else finds its place. You don’t have to fake holiness, chase approval, or analyze every move. Just walk honestly and humbly with the Lord who already knows every thought, every failure, and every motive. So relax. God’s got it. He’s carried the weight, finished the work, and invited you into His rest. The same eternal Christ who holds the universe together is holding you right now. Just love Him. Love people. Be real. 

Thank you.

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(Investing in the Church of the Body of Christ is highly important. Community is a training ground and a support system. Loving, serving, and learning within the Church equips you to navigate life’s difficulties with guidance, accountability, and shared wisdom. Spiritual formation through prayer, Scripture, and fellowship is the groundwork for resilience. These practices are not indulgences; they are essential preparation for the realities of living in a world marked by moral, physical, and emotional challenges. Find a local Biblical church today! – ( church map= https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/viewer?ll=40.52106123277431%2C-41.39371617622709&z=2&mid=1SRpkwF4hEaXZvor4BXyoAawrNVgH9CM ) 

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𝕻𝕴𝕷𝕲𝕽𝕴𝕄 𝕻𝕺𝕹𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕴𝕹𝕲𝕾 𝕸𝕴𝕹𝕴𝕾𝕿𝕽𝖄