I don’t typically love it when people use well read scriptures to make a point. Often, I just want to ask them if they know of any other scriptures to prove their point.
And, let me tell you this little secret, okay? Lean in real close.....
Sometimes, when I’m reading my Bible and I come to those familiar passages of scripture..............I skip over them.
*Gasp*
I know. Total sinner.
It’s true though. I have a tendency to want something new. Something shiny. Something profound. But, one of the things the Lord has revealed to me over the course of this summer reading session is that He alone can make familiar scripture new, fresh, shiny and profound.
If I give it a chance.
So when I got to 1 Corinthians 13 I was tempted to just skip ahead.
It’s read at nearly every wedding (or at least it was at mine) and I can loosely quote it without much effort.
But today, reading it was different. I realized, too often, I entertain my family, I tolerate my family, I even accommodate my family. But do I really treat my family with love? The love that is described in 1 Corinthians 13?
“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.” - 1 Corinthians 13:1
Today, I didn’t speak in tongues (well, not the appropriate kind anyway) yet I told my children at least 5,783 times to (please for the love of God) speak nicely to one another, while I was doing the exact opposite.
Clang. Gong. Call me a cymbal.
“And if I give away all that I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing” - 1 Corinthians 13:3
Yesterday I thought, “All I do is work, work, work, work, work for these kids. Fix their food, get a snack, pour a drink, change a diaper, wipe a nose. And they don’t appreciate me one bit! Maybe I should just sit on my duff all day and then they’ll see how much I do for them!”
Here I am. Nothing gained. And I can guarantee you my children picked up on my lack of love.
“Love is patient, love is kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)
This week, I’ve certainly been impatient. “I’ve told you too many times. STOP YELLING!”
More than a few times I’ve been less than kind. “Why can’t you just focus on what I’m telling you?”
I’ve been envious of the seemingly easy life someone else has.
I’ve been rude. “Why are there perfectly clean clothes in the dirty clothes bin? Do you enjoy making me do more laundry?”
I’ve insisted on my own way. “Please just stop doing that and get over here and put on your pajamas. I can see your Thomas train. I’ve seen it before. Please, hurry up!”
Irritable? Me? “Your behavior is totally getting on my nerves, kid. Totally.” Maybe just a touch.
How could a mother possibly rejoice in wrongdoing? “I’ve told you not to stand in that chair. When you fall off, it’s going to hurt and I’m not going to feel sorry for you because I’ve told you to get down several times already.”
The rest of 1 Corinthians Chapter 13 promises us that prophecies, knowledge, tongues and the partial will all pass away one day.
But love? It NEVER ends.
God’s love never ends. It never ceases to be poured upon me. Even when I’m rude, impatient, hurtful, insistent, envious and boastful.
Never ending love poured upon me while I’ve shown very limited love to the people I love the most. Oh Jesus, how unworthy I am of You! How your word refines me when I allow myself to delight in it!
And to think, I would have totally missed this had I just skipped over those familiar verses.
I pray the Lord gives each of us fresh eyes as we encounter Him on the pages of Truth.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
I like to link it, link it
Sometimes you just read someone else's blog post and think, "Dude. If it weren't against a few laws, I'd totally steal that and post it myself."
Instead I'll just link.
This post by Missy at It's Almost Naptime will get your wheels turning about the Caylee Anthony story. I didn't follow the trial but I agree with what Missy says.
Amy and her husband Todd are moving their large family to Guatemala to be missionaries. This post she wrote about taking their children on the mission field is superb. She's basically been reading my journal.
I totally relate to this post Mary Grace at Books and Bairns wrote about feeling lonely while surrounded by tons of people. It's an odd phase we're in right now, preparing to move, loving the people in your life yet looking ahead to life without them. It's strange to say the least.
Finally, this post by our friend Neil on our church's Summer Session Blog speaks greatly about how the Bible has changed his life. And I feel the exact same way. God's word refines my heart continually and draws me to Him, wooing me with His love.
Hope y'all had a superb weekend and an awesome Monday.
I'm gonna go spend the day trying to school our children and NOT throw up. Both incredible tasks worth every ounce of my effort. :)
Instead I'll just link.
This post by Missy at It's Almost Naptime will get your wheels turning about the Caylee Anthony story. I didn't follow the trial but I agree with what Missy says.
Amy and her husband Todd are moving their large family to Guatemala to be missionaries. This post she wrote about taking their children on the mission field is superb. She's basically been reading my journal.
I totally relate to this post Mary Grace at Books and Bairns wrote about feeling lonely while surrounded by tons of people. It's an odd phase we're in right now, preparing to move, loving the people in your life yet looking ahead to life without them. It's strange to say the least.
Finally, this post by our friend Neil on our church's Summer Session Blog speaks greatly about how the Bible has changed his life. And I feel the exact same way. God's word refines my heart continually and draws me to Him, wooing me with His love.
Hope y'all had a superb weekend and an awesome Monday.
I'm gonna go spend the day trying to school our children and NOT throw up. Both incredible tasks worth every ounce of my effort. :)
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Suffering. Endurance. Character. HOPE.
Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
(Romans 5:3-5 ESV)
I want hope and power via the Holy Spirit. I want to know God’s love intimately. I’d even like a healthy heaping of hope.
But you know what I don’t want?
I don’t want to grow my character. I certainly don’t enjoy practicing endurance. And, without a doubt I do not want to suffer.
Who signs up for that?
Lately, I feel like the Lord is hard at work procuring in me hope. But, I think I’m missing it. You see, I feel a lot lately like I’m suffering. I even feel like He’s hard at work sculpting and shaping my character. He sees a blemish in me and makes it glaringly obvious that it’s an area of my character that needs refining. Bring in the suffering. I meander along, enduring it, but not necessarily growing my endurance. And you can be sure that I’m not rejoicing in it one bit.
I think that the Lord is holding up to His end of this refining process. He’s ordained the suffering and refining my character. But I am not willing to do more than endure it. Which should not be confused with building my endurance. Truly, I’m not holding up to my end of this process.
About a year ago, a friend of mine talked me into running my first ever 5K race. By nature I am NOT a runner. In fact, even when I was a college athlete in prime physical condition I loathed running. Still, this sweet friend of mine encouraged me and helped me train for this race.
With every training session, I endured the pain. I pushed through the shin-splints. I logged the miles and miles of pre-5K runs. But it wasn’t with joy. In fact, I thought about faking an injury just so I could stop. (I didn’t.)
After all, I’ve always said that my favorite part of running is the stopping at the end.
Race day came and my sweet, marathon-running friend trotted happily beside me while I endured 5 kilometers of a race I wasn’t even sure I wanted to run. She chatted and I fought vomiting. The finish line came in sight and suddenly, I was joyful.
Not because I had spent hours training. Not because I had grown a friendship to a new level. Not because I had strengthened my body and challenged myself to grow. All of those things would have been awesome things to be joyful about.
I was joyful because it was almost over and I could go back to my normal life of hating running and never doing it again.
Unfortunately, I look at Romans 5:3-5 in much of the same way. During the suffering, I don’t stop and take joy in what the Lord is doing in my life. I don’t joyfully look upon the fruits of my character building. And I often miss the hope poured into me by the Holy Spirit.
Sadly, I spend all of my time looking for the finish line. Praying for the suffering to end. Hoping not more in the Lord but in my own capabilities for a finished result.
I pray that I can begin to look at life’s trials and sufferings as character growing, endurance building and hope breathing seasons in the Lord. Romans 5 clearly states that the end cannot come without the means.
What are you simply enduring right now? How can you turn it into a season of endurance building instead? Allow God to refine you and in turn, pour His love into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.
-------
I wrote this post for the Summer Session Bible Reading plan my church is doing. If you're reading along, what do you think? If you're not, it's not too late to start!
(Romans 5:3-5 ESV)
I want hope and power via the Holy Spirit. I want to know God’s love intimately. I’d even like a healthy heaping of hope.
But you know what I don’t want?
I don’t want to grow my character. I certainly don’t enjoy practicing endurance. And, without a doubt I do not want to suffer.
Who signs up for that?
Lately, I feel like the Lord is hard at work procuring in me hope. But, I think I’m missing it. You see, I feel a lot lately like I’m suffering. I even feel like He’s hard at work sculpting and shaping my character. He sees a blemish in me and makes it glaringly obvious that it’s an area of my character that needs refining. Bring in the suffering. I meander along, enduring it, but not necessarily growing my endurance. And you can be sure that I’m not rejoicing in it one bit.
I think that the Lord is holding up to His end of this refining process. He’s ordained the suffering and refining my character. But I am not willing to do more than endure it. Which should not be confused with building my endurance. Truly, I’m not holding up to my end of this process.
About a year ago, a friend of mine talked me into running my first ever 5K race. By nature I am NOT a runner. In fact, even when I was a college athlete in prime physical condition I loathed running. Still, this sweet friend of mine encouraged me and helped me train for this race.
With every training session, I endured the pain. I pushed through the shin-splints. I logged the miles and miles of pre-5K runs. But it wasn’t with joy. In fact, I thought about faking an injury just so I could stop. (I didn’t.)
After all, I’ve always said that my favorite part of running is the stopping at the end.
Race day came and my sweet, marathon-running friend trotted happily beside me while I endured 5 kilometers of a race I wasn’t even sure I wanted to run. She chatted and I fought vomiting. The finish line came in sight and suddenly, I was joyful.
Not because I had spent hours training. Not because I had grown a friendship to a new level. Not because I had strengthened my body and challenged myself to grow. All of those things would have been awesome things to be joyful about.
I was joyful because it was almost over and I could go back to my normal life of hating running and never doing it again.
Unfortunately, I look at Romans 5:3-5 in much of the same way. During the suffering, I don’t stop and take joy in what the Lord is doing in my life. I don’t joyfully look upon the fruits of my character building. And I often miss the hope poured into me by the Holy Spirit.
Sadly, I spend all of my time looking for the finish line. Praying for the suffering to end. Hoping not more in the Lord but in my own capabilities for a finished result.
I pray that I can begin to look at life’s trials and sufferings as character growing, endurance building and hope breathing seasons in the Lord. Romans 5 clearly states that the end cannot come without the means.
What are you simply enduring right now? How can you turn it into a season of endurance building instead? Allow God to refine you and in turn, pour His love into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.
-------
I wrote this post for the Summer Session Bible Reading plan my church is doing. If you're reading along, what do you think? If you're not, it's not too late to start!
Monday, July 18, 2011
A link to a post about having a big family
The half-question/half-comments have already started. (I say half-question/half-comments because I don't think people really want an answer from us. Instead, they want to make a comment and make it seem like they are being careful and concerned.)
"You know how that happens, don't you?"
"Why would you want to do that?"
"Are you trying to be like the Duggars?"
While the vast majority of people congratulate us, it's usually followed with, "Y'all are crazy."
If loving our kids and following God's desires for the size of our family makes us crazy, then I guess we are.
So this morning when I read Kate's (from Savvy Little Women) post, I was so encouraged.
Not because they're considering purchasing a trampoline.
But because of this link to a post on John Piper's blog.
Seriously, go read that. It's awesome. And convicting too. Convicted my socks right off.
Happy Monday y'all!
"You know how that happens, don't you?"
"Why would you want to do that?"
"Are you trying to be like the Duggars?"
While the vast majority of people congratulate us, it's usually followed with, "Y'all are crazy."
If loving our kids and following God's desires for the size of our family makes us crazy, then I guess we are.
So this morning when I read Kate's (from Savvy Little Women) post, I was so encouraged.
Not because they're considering purchasing a trampoline.
But because of this link to a post on John Piper's blog.
Seriously, go read that. It's awesome. And convicting too. Convicted my socks right off.
Happy Monday y'all!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Das Not Funny! Friday: Super Hero Squat
Welcome to a video version of Das Not Funny! Friday.
Y'all, superheroes have been a big deal in our house for a long time now. Remember that time Lucas was being a superhero and punched Luke in the junk? That still makes me laugh out loud, no matter how much my hormones are out of control.
Anyway, Lucas waxes and wains between wanting to be a superhero and wanting to be a cowboy, whose cap gun isn't nearly as lethal as his death stare.
The stick horse makes the picture.
Most of the time, the big girls will play "Super Hero Squat" with him. Last week, the older 3 watched something on TV where the superheroes wore masks. It took our superheroing to a whole new level.
I spent a ridiculously small amount of time fashioning the worst masks on the planet. I secured them to my children's heads using elastic headbands. I tied towels and various other fabrics around their necks with hair ties. Clearly I was trying to break every rule of Strangulation Prevention 101.
But my kids were happy.
When Luke called on his way home from work, I asked if he wanted to tell the kids about the new baby that night at dinner. We decided we would, but we wanted it to be in a creative and fun way.
Don't you dare judge us for our lack of creativity. I had about 20 minutes and 12 hands all over me while I brainstormed my heart out. This is what we came up with.... (You may have to view it full screen because I'm a genius and recorded it on our iTouch, not even thinking about it being so stinkin' tall.)
Y'all, superheroes have been a big deal in our house for a long time now. Remember that time Lucas was being a superhero and punched Luke in the junk? That still makes me laugh out loud, no matter how much my hormones are out of control.
Anyway, Lucas waxes and wains between wanting to be a superhero and wanting to be a cowboy, whose cap gun isn't nearly as lethal as his death stare.
The stick horse makes the picture.
Most of the time, the big girls will play "Super Hero Squat" with him. Last week, the older 3 watched something on TV where the superheroes wore masks. It took our superheroing to a whole new level.
I spent a ridiculously small amount of time fashioning the worst masks on the planet. I secured them to my children's heads using elastic headbands. I tied towels and various other fabrics around their necks with hair ties. Clearly I was trying to break every rule of Strangulation Prevention 101.
But my kids were happy.
When Luke called on his way home from work, I asked if he wanted to tell the kids about the new baby that night at dinner. We decided we would, but we wanted it to be in a creative and fun way.
Don't you dare judge us for our lack of creativity. I had about 20 minutes and 12 hands all over me while I brainstormed my heart out. This is what we came up with.... (You may have to view it full screen because I'm a genius and recorded it on our iTouch, not even thinking about it being so stinkin' tall.)
Things I love about this video.
1) The look on Luke's face as I pan the camera around to him, whilst asking him if we have another superhero. In his Type A mind he's thinking, "Woman! We did NOT rehearse this. WHAT SHOULD I DO!?!"
2) At 0:49 seconds in and Aaron and Olivia begin their tirade of questions and attention gainers."Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!!!"
I also love that our other children are completely unfazed by their chaos and continue on with their life, like it's normal.
I also love that our other children are completely unfazed by their chaos and continue on with their life, like it's normal.
3) "MOMMA'S BURFDAY!" Eh, so not everyone hits the mark the first time. Maybe she should change her name to something besides Super Speed.
4) At 1:40 Lucas punches Elizabeth for saying we need another boy. Obviously he's not willing to share his Super Hero status.
5) "Before your Anniversary?" That would be seemingly a good question, except I'm willing to bet she has no idea when our Anniversary is.
6) The yelling to say, "STOP YELLING PLEASE!"
7) The random bowling pin at 2:14 and how I didn't miss a beat. (It was courtesy of Aaron, by the way.)
8) The Ella Goat eating the baby's foot. And her subsequent response.
9) "Do, do, do doot, doot! I'm gonna have........................................" Insert the longest pause ever while she counts her siblings. Almost like she's never counted them all before.
10) "Can I be a big brother again?" Followed by, "Wooooohooooooo! BAM! BAM! BAY-BAY!"
and finally, perhaps the thing that makes me laugh most,
11) "CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE."
If you ever wondered what a typical evening is like for us, this is it. This is real life y'all. REAL LIFE. Perfectly displaying each of their personalities.
Happy Friday!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Anything but common
I love the ESV version of Acts 10:15. “And the voice came to him again a second time, "What God has made clean, do not call common."
Specifically the fact that the Lord references the unclean, or unholy foods, as “common.”
Is it just me or does it cross anyone else’s mind that they are just....common?
I’m a common Mom, living a common life. (Yes, I know we have 6 kids. For us, that’s common.)
Or maybe for you, you’re just a common person, working a common job. Your job isn’t fancy and you’re a creature of habit. You have worn the same shirt to bed since 1983 and you like it that way. By all standards set by the world, you’re common.
Or maybe you’re a rockstar during the day, but when you come home, your house is normal, your food tastes the same as everyone else’s and really, your life is just.....common.
Heck, even Clark Kent was common when he wasn’t leaping tall buildings with a single bound. Right?
But you know what? I think the enemy whispers the same lie to all of us, no matter what day job we hold, no matter how many kids we come home to, no matter what our salary is or how flashy the car is that we drive. No matter if you flip burgers for a living or flip out $100 bills to pay for your breakfast.
It starts as we begin to feel the Lord drawing us to a closer relationship with Him. We see clearly that God is calling us to be set apart, to walk differently, to speak on a more candid level about our faith, to love the people around us that are really hard to love.
For each of us, this calling is different yet deeply personal. Maybe God’s calling you to start a lunch time Bible Study at work. Maybe He’s asking you to walk across the street to that cranky old lady and be her friend. Maybe He’s nudging you to tell that family member, who rejects everything about the gospel, the truth of your relationship with Him. Maybe He’s moving you to increase the size of your family. Maybe He’s beckoning you to the mission field.
For whatever God is desiring for each of us, He equips us to accomplish His work with scripture, confidence and authority by the Holy Spirit. Secure in our new task, we cinch up our pants, take a step out onto this new ground and the lies begin.
“What are you doing? You can’t do this. Why do you think you can? Don’t you realize that you are nothing special? This is huge and you’re just so.....common.”
And it occurs to us that maybe we are just a common person. Fear grips us, the idea of radical change baffles our minds and we become sold on the lie that we are common.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
When God meets us where we are and invites us to know Him in a deep and intimate way, we shed all things common about us. We shed the sin of our commonality and our past self. We shed the inability to be used for the glory of the Lord.
In essence we become quite uncommon. In Acts 10:15 the word common is used interchangeably for the word unclean. And I’d like to assert that when we buy into the lies the enemy so fervently yells in our direction, we are also buying into the lie that we too are unclean.
My friends, if you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, nothing could be further from the truth. And do you see the amazing parallel between being unclean and being common? Whether you consider yourself unclean or merely common, you are placing yourself in a position to accomplish nothing for the glory of God.
The truth is, whatever God is beckoning you to at this moment it is worth pursuing. Don’t let the enemy’s lies of your worthlessness, your uncleanliness and your commonality rob you of the joy found in obedience to God’s purpose for your life.
Flee from a common life. And when the enemy begins to whisper to you the lies and pains of your past and tries to convince you that you cannot possibly accomplish all that the Lord has laid out before you, remind yourself that you are anything but common.
Because, “For what God has made clean, do not call common.”
------
Chime in and see what else is being blogged about over at the Summer Session blog. And if you're reading along, how's your Summer Session Reading going?
Specifically the fact that the Lord references the unclean, or unholy foods, as “common.”
Is it just me or does it cross anyone else’s mind that they are just....common?
I’m a common Mom, living a common life. (Yes, I know we have 6 kids. For us, that’s common.)
Or maybe for you, you’re just a common person, working a common job. Your job isn’t fancy and you’re a creature of habit. You have worn the same shirt to bed since 1983 and you like it that way. By all standards set by the world, you’re common.
Or maybe you’re a rockstar during the day, but when you come home, your house is normal, your food tastes the same as everyone else’s and really, your life is just.....common.
Heck, even Clark Kent was common when he wasn’t leaping tall buildings with a single bound. Right?
But you know what? I think the enemy whispers the same lie to all of us, no matter what day job we hold, no matter how many kids we come home to, no matter what our salary is or how flashy the car is that we drive. No matter if you flip burgers for a living or flip out $100 bills to pay for your breakfast.
It starts as we begin to feel the Lord drawing us to a closer relationship with Him. We see clearly that God is calling us to be set apart, to walk differently, to speak on a more candid level about our faith, to love the people around us that are really hard to love.
For each of us, this calling is different yet deeply personal. Maybe God’s calling you to start a lunch time Bible Study at work. Maybe He’s asking you to walk across the street to that cranky old lady and be her friend. Maybe He’s nudging you to tell that family member, who rejects everything about the gospel, the truth of your relationship with Him. Maybe He’s moving you to increase the size of your family. Maybe He’s beckoning you to the mission field.
For whatever God is desiring for each of us, He equips us to accomplish His work with scripture, confidence and authority by the Holy Spirit. Secure in our new task, we cinch up our pants, take a step out onto this new ground and the lies begin.
“What are you doing? You can’t do this. Why do you think you can? Don’t you realize that you are nothing special? This is huge and you’re just so.....common.”
And it occurs to us that maybe we are just a common person. Fear grips us, the idea of radical change baffles our minds and we become sold on the lie that we are common.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
When God meets us where we are and invites us to know Him in a deep and intimate way, we shed all things common about us. We shed the sin of our commonality and our past self. We shed the inability to be used for the glory of the Lord.
In essence we become quite uncommon. In Acts 10:15 the word common is used interchangeably for the word unclean. And I’d like to assert that when we buy into the lies the enemy so fervently yells in our direction, we are also buying into the lie that we too are unclean.
My friends, if you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, nothing could be further from the truth. And do you see the amazing parallel between being unclean and being common? Whether you consider yourself unclean or merely common, you are placing yourself in a position to accomplish nothing for the glory of God.
The truth is, whatever God is beckoning you to at this moment it is worth pursuing. Don’t let the enemy’s lies of your worthlessness, your uncleanliness and your commonality rob you of the joy found in obedience to God’s purpose for your life.
Flee from a common life. And when the enemy begins to whisper to you the lies and pains of your past and tries to convince you that you cannot possibly accomplish all that the Lord has laid out before you, remind yourself that you are anything but common.
Because, “For what God has made clean, do not call common.”
------
Chime in and see what else is being blogged about over at the Summer Session blog. And if you're reading along, how's your Summer Session Reading going?
Monday, July 11, 2011
Once upon a time
Once upon a time, there was is a little girl.
She is the cutest, most adorable little 2 and a half year old girl her Momma ever knew. And she LOVES life.
She loves to talk and sing and talk and sing and talk and sing and talk. All of the time. Nonstop. All of the time. Always.
She is silly and happy and knows nothing about volumes that are appropriate for being inside. She loves fiercely, hugs often and affectionately and (aggressively) mothers her "little" sister frequently. (And by "little" I only mean in age. She and "little" sister wear the same size clothes, which is super convenient for their Momma.)
Her Momma loves her more than she can explain, even when she drives her Momma to the brink of insanity. Her laugher abounds through her house and rings in the ears of her family. She loves to eat, talk, be silly, sing, talk, jump, run and do all the things a two and a half year old knows is borderline questionable.
But most of all, this little girl makes her family feel so blessed. Blessed that God would choose them to be her family. Blessed that even though she didn't grow in her Momma's belly, she was chosen to grow their family. Blessed that she's going to be a big sister, again, because she's just so good at it.
And mostly, just blessed by her sweet, joyful, hopeful, always lively spirit.
And they all livedhappily blessedly forever after.
She is the cutest, most adorable little 2 and a half year old girl her Momma ever knew. And she LOVES life.
She loves to talk and sing and talk and sing and talk and sing and talk. All of the time. Nonstop. All of the time. Always.
She is silly and happy and knows nothing about volumes that are appropriate for being inside. She loves fiercely, hugs often and affectionately and (aggressively) mothers her "little" sister frequently. (And by "little" I only mean in age. She and "little" sister wear the same size clothes, which is super convenient for their Momma.)
Her Momma loves her more than she can explain, even when she drives her Momma to the brink of insanity. Her laugher abounds through her house and rings in the ears of her family. She loves to eat, talk, be silly, sing, talk, jump, run and do all the things a two and a half year old knows is borderline questionable.
But most of all, this little girl makes her family feel so blessed. Blessed that God would choose them to be her family. Blessed that even though she didn't grow in her Momma's belly, she was chosen to grow their family. Blessed that she's going to be a big sister, again, because she's just so good at it.
And mostly, just blessed by her sweet, joyful, hopeful, always lively spirit.
And they all lived
Friday, July 8, 2011
Just like my Granny
All my life, people have told me that I'm just like my Granny. When Luke and I first got married, she told me something that, at the time, cracked me up so much that I really didn't think too much about it.
She said, "Jessica, you know, we're fertile people. All your Grandpa had to do was throw his britches across the foot of the bed and I'd get pregnant."
Turns out, I am just like my Granny. And baby, I'm glad that I am. ;)
She said, "Jessica, you know, we're fertile people. All your Grandpa had to do was throw his britches across the foot of the bed and I'd get pregnant."
Turns out, I am just like my Granny. And baby, I'm glad that I am. ;)
Thursday, July 7, 2011
I wonder about Lazarus
Below is a post I wrote for today's readings for the Summer Session. Are you still reading along? If so, how's it going? If you've not yet started, it's not too late. Join us! This week's post is taken from my readings in John Chapters 11-12.
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I wonder how Lazarus felt when we walked out of the tomb. I wonder if when his body jolted back to life, if he was disoriented and confused. I’ve done that when we’ve been on vacation and I wake up abruptly in the night and can’t figure out where I’m at. But I’m guessing four days in a tomb wasn’t quite the same as a vacation for Lazarus.
As he stumbled past the stone that was holding his body (and his odor - thanks for pointing that out, Martha) in, I wonder if he was smiling beneath the wrappings. Were his eyes fixed on his beloved sisters or on his beloved Savior?
As Lazarus reclined at the table with Jesus and the disciples as he watched his sister anoint their Lord, I wonder if he told of what he’d experienced in his four days of death. I wonder if he recounted for his friends the moment he realized he was indeed dying and then, the moment he realized he’d been risen from the dead.
But mostly, I wonder how Lazarus felt when he found out that the chief priests were plotting to kill him because his story was leading others to Christ.
Was he afraid of dying once more? Did he run and hide? Did he remember his final moments of his first death? Was he like me and forgot all the things the Lord had previously done for him and instead panicked and allowed fear to wash over him?
Or, did he continue to recline at the table? Did he smile at his persecutors and remember with fondness The Lifeblood that previously redeemed his once-dead body? Did he walk boldly through the markets, knowing that death had lost it’s sting?
Often, when I face a time in my life that, from all appearances, seems to be a crisis I forget rather than remember.
I forget the triumphs of the one who has rescued me time and time again. I forget the one that took this once-dead body of mine and rose it to new life. I forget all of the things the Lord has already proven to me, even though no proof was ever required of Him.
I forget that He has already conquered the world. And even if it seems as contradictory as a second death for an already resurrected Lazarus, it’s for His glory alone and my job is simply to trust and endure.
I wonder which side of the emotional pendulum Lazarus’ emotions went as he discovered the chief priests’ hatred for him. Did he swing to the side of fear or to the side of faith? Did he shut down and abandon all that he’d known to be true, or did he embrace his past, the statement his life made for the Lord and endure every persecution with joy?
Put me in Lazarus’ sandals and I’m not sure which way I’d lean. I pray for the Lord to increase my faith but often, increased faith only comes through increased testing.
How about you? Which way do you lean when the pressure comes to call?
-------
I wonder how Lazarus felt when we walked out of the tomb. I wonder if when his body jolted back to life, if he was disoriented and confused. I’ve done that when we’ve been on vacation and I wake up abruptly in the night and can’t figure out where I’m at. But I’m guessing four days in a tomb wasn’t quite the same as a vacation for Lazarus.
As he stumbled past the stone that was holding his body (and his odor - thanks for pointing that out, Martha) in, I wonder if he was smiling beneath the wrappings. Were his eyes fixed on his beloved sisters or on his beloved Savior?
As Lazarus reclined at the table with Jesus and the disciples as he watched his sister anoint their Lord, I wonder if he told of what he’d experienced in his four days of death. I wonder if he recounted for his friends the moment he realized he was indeed dying and then, the moment he realized he’d been risen from the dead.
But mostly, I wonder how Lazarus felt when he found out that the chief priests were plotting to kill him because his story was leading others to Christ.
Was he afraid of dying once more? Did he run and hide? Did he remember his final moments of his first death? Was he like me and forgot all the things the Lord had previously done for him and instead panicked and allowed fear to wash over him?
Or, did he continue to recline at the table? Did he smile at his persecutors and remember with fondness The Lifeblood that previously redeemed his once-dead body? Did he walk boldly through the markets, knowing that death had lost it’s sting?
Often, when I face a time in my life that, from all appearances, seems to be a crisis I forget rather than remember.
I forget the triumphs of the one who has rescued me time and time again. I forget the one that took this once-dead body of mine and rose it to new life. I forget all of the things the Lord has already proven to me, even though no proof was ever required of Him.
I forget that He has already conquered the world. And even if it seems as contradictory as a second death for an already resurrected Lazarus, it’s for His glory alone and my job is simply to trust and endure.
I wonder which side of the emotional pendulum Lazarus’ emotions went as he discovered the chief priests’ hatred for him. Did he swing to the side of fear or to the side of faith? Did he shut down and abandon all that he’d known to be true, or did he embrace his past, the statement his life made for the Lord and endure every persecution with joy?
Put me in Lazarus’ sandals and I’m not sure which way I’d lean. I pray for the Lord to increase my faith but often, increased faith only comes through increased testing.
How about you? Which way do you lean when the pressure comes to call?
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Chock full O' Nuts Controversy
A couple posts ago, I asked if you were ready to hear about the deep, spiritual truths I learned on my trip to Guinea-Bissau. Resoundingly, you all said you were. However, two comments in particular stood out to me. Before I move on to describing my experiences, I want to address those comments first.
First of all, my friend Wendi (who went on the trip to Guinea-Bissau, too) reminded me that it was more important to get God's input than anyone else's. I love having a friend who always points me back the Lord and His desires. Thanks Wendi, for doing such time and time and time again.
Secondly, Lisa had quite a bit to say. You can read her full comment by clicking here, and scrolling to the comments section. It's pretty lengthy, but well worth going back and reading what she has to say. I'm going to address some of her comments and points in this post and will only copy and paste excerpts (or maybe even a dissection of sorts) of her comment. However, please don't just take the portion I have copied and use it as a jumping point if you'd like to join in the discussion. I really believe it's worth going back and getting a feel for the spirit with which Lisa's comment was intended.
I didn't perceive Lisa's comment to be offensive, rude or disrespectful in any way. However, she does pose some interesting questions about the spiritual realm and her experiences in Africa.
Let me preface the rest of this post by saying this:
This is my experience in Guinea-Bissau. I'm not claiming to know much, if anything, about Africa as whole. I can only comment on the limited experience I have from a 10 day trip to Guinea-Bissau, West Africa. Specifically the village of Canquelifa, where I spent the majority of my time. HOWEVER, while praying about how much of my experience to share in such a public forum, I did ask other folks, some who are missionary kids (now grown) - some former missionaries - some current missionaries - what their experiences are with the spiritual realm. Every one of them agreed that it does exist and it is active and that they had experienced it to some degree. Each of the people I spoke with told me of differing areas of spiritual activity. Some spoke of seeing the heavenly side of the spiritual realm (in Africa) while others spoke of seeing the dark side of the spiritual realm.
There are several points I want to discuss in light of Lisa's comment.
For starters, Lisa said,
I must admit I am always uneasy at how easy it is for westerners to experience the dark spiritual realm during mission trips to the “dark continent”. In my 25 years living there amongst the citizens – i.e. having them as neighbors, going to school and working with them (without the benefit of the usual segregation where missionaries tend to live in their own little “pockets” away from the “natives”), I never saw or experienced anything in the dark realm.
Lisa, I hope you understand that I do not in any way want to discredit your experiences. But, they are just that. Your experiences. And truthfully - examining your experiences against the backdrop of Scripture - I'm going to go out on a very shaky limb here and say that if you "never saw or experienced anything in the dark realm" then maybe you are fooling yourself. Because, really, I don't think your feet have to be on African soil to experience the dark side of the spiritual realm. In fact, one of the things the Lord reminded me of on the 1st night of our stay in the village was a dream I had when I was a very little girl. A dream that was so vivid, that 20 years later I can still remember details (and I can't hardly remember what I had for breakfast yesterday). I believe the Lord was confirming that the enemy does, indeed, attack me most openly in my dreams and that, indeed, what I was sensing was the presence of evil (both in my dream so many years ago and in the moment that I was currently in).
Lisa, I pray you don't find that offensive. But, truly, even in America before I ever set foot in Africa, I had experienced evil. Granted, God certainly used my time in Guinea-Bissau to open and give clarity to my spiritual eyes but the truth is, I've been in the presence of evil before. And, I'd bet that if you're being honest too, you have as well. No matter what continent you were standing on.
A sentence or two later, Lisa went on to say,
The only experience with witchcraft any of my school mates [She's referencing a previously mentioned boarding-school she was a student at - I'm guessing? Please correct me if I've misunderstood, Lisa.] ever had was what was found in the pages of western novels! My African friends would always be surprised that we had things like Wiccans in the west and not understand our fascination with the occult and eastern mysticism.
While I agree that the Africans I met were typically astounded with our fascination with the occult and demons, in particular our celebration of Halloween, I find it hard to digest that any of your African friends would deny the existence of witchcraft. I'm not for one split-second suggesting that any of your African friends participated in witchcraft, but I'm sure they know it existed. And if they didn't, I'm truly shocked.
You see, all of the people we encountered in Guinea-Bissau knew there was a supernatural battle and the power in spirits. It wasn't because they spoke crazy things or looked like crazy people. In fact, neither of those are the case. BUT, if I had to put a percentage out there, I'd wager that nearly 80% of the people in the village we were in had some sort of involvement with the witchdoctor. And it was obvious. Because, either they themselves, or their children wore amulets. See those yellow arrows below? They are pointing to amulets that are tied onto this sweet, beautiful, precious scared-to-death-of-the-white-lady-with-the-camera, princess.
Amulets bought from the village's witchdoctor and include spells, potions or who knows what else on/in them to keep away evil spirits and to bring good luck. But the truth is, those amulets don't ward off the evil, they attract the evil.
But I don't for one second blame that Momma for doing her best and whatever she can to keep her baby safe. It saddens me deeply that she is unknowingly exposing her baby to darkness. And I explained such to her. But she wasn't prepared to hear what I had to say.
And this baby wasn't the only one. Nearly every child we saw had amulets of some type on them. Some were less visible and tied around their waists, under their clothing. Others, more obvious like the sweet thing pictured above. And I know that the people in the village of Canquelifa believe in their power.
One young Momma, who looked to be about 17 or so, offered her life up to Christ. In fact, I had the privilege of praying with her, along with our translator Ruthie. The timing wasn't right to discuss with her the amulets that hung around her 6 month old baby's neck. But the next day as we made our rounds through the village, I saw her. Ruthie and I went to speak to her. Ruthe translated as I explained that now, with her being a new creation in Christ, she didn't need the amulets for her baby. She said that she's went to the witchdoctor to get them because her baby had a rash on her face. We explained that God could heal her baby, but He may not. Yet either way, the amulets were attracting evil to her baby rather than providing protection. Immediately she got a knife and cut them off. This was NOT characteristic of the new believers in the village. Most would tell us that they'd cut them off later, undoubtably, never following through.
Y'all, this was no small demonstration of faith for this young Momma. You see, this young Momma lived with her own Mom. As soon as her Mom saw what she had done, she grabbed the amulets from her daughter and told us, not-so-nicely, that she'd tie them right back on her grandbaby after we left.
If the people of this village didn't believe in or practice witchcraft, why were the amulets so prevalent? Why were they so fervently clinging to them? Again, I don't claim this is the way for all Africans, but for this group of people it was a way of life.
Lisa continued with,
I have always wondered if it is easy to experience the dark spiritual realm while in Africa based on the prissm through which we westerners view Africa – the dark continent where witchcraft and evil spirits run rampant! Thanks to national geographic, hollywood's depiction of Africa and missionaries war stories...
Oh Lisa! I know you are correct in how most westerners view Africa. And, it breaks my heart deeply. Some of my own family views Africa that way and, truly, it crushes me...and angers me.
Believe me when I say that I believed, before I ever went, that Africa is beautiful. Not only the landscape, but her people. I fell in love with Africa's people before I ever touched her soil. I can't explain how or why but I did.
Honestly, I expected to experience the supernatural while I was in Guinea-Bissau. I FULLY EXPECTED that I would see and experience things that I had never seen or experienced before. But, even that didn't meet my expectations.
You see, I expected to see the MIRACULOUS not the darkness. About a year or so before I went, one of the teams from our church went to one of the villages we've partnered with to plant a church. One of my husband's very good friends saw a New Testament miracle with his very own eyes! Indeed, he and another man prayed over a lame man and the lame man GOT UP AND WALKED AWAY. Neil (my husband's friend - and also the husband of my good friend) brought home the man's walking stick. I don't remember specifically how long the man had been lame but long enough that his thumb had worn a spot in the stick that he used to walk with. I'VE TOUCHED the not-so-lame-anymore man's former walking stick. I've ran my thumb across the wood that his thumb had worn smooth.
THAT is what I expected to see. Not the darkness. In fact, before I left the darkness never even occurred to me. Yes, I expected to see the supernatural. But not like I did. But I've found that God likes to surprise me more often than He likes to prove me right. But yes Lisa, I agree, and find it disturbing, that most western people view Africa as a dark continent. It makes me want to leave this country so much faster and prove to the people watching us that Africa is BEAUTIFUL and worth sacrificing a few comforts for the salvation of her people.
Then, Lisa reaches into my journal, plagiarizes my thoughts ;) and says the following,
To me, it appears as though we westerners never look at our own sins through the prism of the spiritual realm, but somehow the same sins in the “dark” continent and in Asia can only be attributed to this realm and not man’s fallen and sin nature.
I agree. And let me tell you all, America is out of control with the labels. Now, I'm probably going to start a whole 'nother debate but can I just go out on another limb?
I have some illnesses that run in my family. Sure, there are times with these particular illness can be situational, seasonal and sometimes even chemical imbalances. But the fact that this same illness has plagued my family for GENERATIONS should make me stop and recognize that it's probably less of an illness and more of a oppression from darkness. And I should be doing everything in my power to release my family from this bondage!
I know. Gasp! I said it. Out loud. But you know what? I think it's true. And not just for my family. Now, I am NOT saying that mental illnesses aren't serious. I'm not saying that they're not legitimate. But I do believe that Americans are very quick to get a prescription for their woes rather than renouncing the dark powers that potentially have a hold on their lives. I wholly agree with Lisa that Americans (and westerners) don't give enough credit to our own sin, fallen nature and the darkness that creeps around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. People! Our enemy is real. Why do we discredit him so much in our western world? THAT is why I desire to speak the truth about my time in West Africa.
(Cue the crazy lady stares and eye-contact avoidance on Sunday Morning. I'm ready. Bring it people. My family isn't any more messed up than yours. Let's all stop pretending, okay?)
Lastly, Lisa mentions that she cannot find any biblical evidence for the dark spiritual realm only existing in one geographical area.
Well, Lisa, I think you'll agree with me on this one. There is, in fact, one geographical area that is predominantly suppressed by the dark spiritual realm. It's little sphere of dirt and water called Earth. The enemy is called, among other things, the prince of the power of the air - meaning HE'S EVERYWHERE. And y'all he's out to get us, whether we chose to see him, believe he exists or give him any credit for the evil that surrounds us. He's not just chillin' in Africa or Asia. He's in the country you live in, the state in which you reside, the city you buy your groceries in and sometimes, even knocking on your door.
True, we are indeed driven by our own sinful selves and our fallen world. But he's after us. He's seeking to destroy us. He's looking for a foothold to drag us down. He's got authority over demons and forces and darkness beyond what our little minds can comprehend.
He's real, whether you like it or not. But, we should all take heart. Because, like Dave Ramsey says (and I'm gonna paraphrase here)...
"It's all going to be okay. I've read the back of The Book. It's okay guys. WE WIN."
So, what do you all think?
First of all, my friend Wendi (who went on the trip to Guinea-Bissau, too) reminded me that it was more important to get God's input than anyone else's. I love having a friend who always points me back the Lord and His desires. Thanks Wendi, for doing such time and time and time again.
Secondly, Lisa had quite a bit to say. You can read her full comment by clicking here, and scrolling to the comments section. It's pretty lengthy, but well worth going back and reading what she has to say. I'm going to address some of her comments and points in this post and will only copy and paste excerpts (or maybe even a dissection of sorts) of her comment. However, please don't just take the portion I have copied and use it as a jumping point if you'd like to join in the discussion. I really believe it's worth going back and getting a feel for the spirit with which Lisa's comment was intended.
I didn't perceive Lisa's comment to be offensive, rude or disrespectful in any way. However, she does pose some interesting questions about the spiritual realm and her experiences in Africa.
Let me preface the rest of this post by saying this:
This is my experience in Guinea-Bissau. I'm not claiming to know much, if anything, about Africa as whole. I can only comment on the limited experience I have from a 10 day trip to Guinea-Bissau, West Africa. Specifically the village of Canquelifa, where I spent the majority of my time. HOWEVER, while praying about how much of my experience to share in such a public forum, I did ask other folks, some who are missionary kids (now grown) - some former missionaries - some current missionaries - what their experiences are with the spiritual realm. Every one of them agreed that it does exist and it is active and that they had experienced it to some degree. Each of the people I spoke with told me of differing areas of spiritual activity. Some spoke of seeing the heavenly side of the spiritual realm (in Africa) while others spoke of seeing the dark side of the spiritual realm.
There are several points I want to discuss in light of Lisa's comment.
For starters, Lisa said,
I must admit I am always uneasy at how easy it is for westerners to experience the dark spiritual realm during mission trips to the “dark continent”. In my 25 years living there amongst the citizens – i.e. having them as neighbors, going to school and working with them (without the benefit of the usual segregation where missionaries tend to live in their own little “pockets” away from the “natives”), I never saw or experienced anything in the dark realm.
Lisa, I hope you understand that I do not in any way want to discredit your experiences. But, they are just that. Your experiences. And truthfully - examining your experiences against the backdrop of Scripture - I'm going to go out on a very shaky limb here and say that if you "never saw or experienced anything in the dark realm" then maybe you are fooling yourself. Because, really, I don't think your feet have to be on African soil to experience the dark side of the spiritual realm. In fact, one of the things the Lord reminded me of on the 1st night of our stay in the village was a dream I had when I was a very little girl. A dream that was so vivid, that 20 years later I can still remember details (and I can't hardly remember what I had for breakfast yesterday). I believe the Lord was confirming that the enemy does, indeed, attack me most openly in my dreams and that, indeed, what I was sensing was the presence of evil (both in my dream so many years ago and in the moment that I was currently in).
Lisa, I pray you don't find that offensive. But, truly, even in America before I ever set foot in Africa, I had experienced evil. Granted, God certainly used my time in Guinea-Bissau to open and give clarity to my spiritual eyes but the truth is, I've been in the presence of evil before. And, I'd bet that if you're being honest too, you have as well. No matter what continent you were standing on.
A sentence or two later, Lisa went on to say,
The only experience with witchcraft any of my school mates [She's referencing a previously mentioned boarding-school she was a student at - I'm guessing? Please correct me if I've misunderstood, Lisa.] ever had was what was found in the pages of western novels! My African friends would always be surprised that we had things like Wiccans in the west and not understand our fascination with the occult and eastern mysticism.
While I agree that the Africans I met were typically astounded with our fascination with the occult and demons, in particular our celebration of Halloween, I find it hard to digest that any of your African friends would deny the existence of witchcraft. I'm not for one split-second suggesting that any of your African friends participated in witchcraft, but I'm sure they know it existed. And if they didn't, I'm truly shocked.
You see, all of the people we encountered in Guinea-Bissau knew there was a supernatural battle and the power in spirits. It wasn't because they spoke crazy things or looked like crazy people. In fact, neither of those are the case. BUT, if I had to put a percentage out there, I'd wager that nearly 80% of the people in the village we were in had some sort of involvement with the witchdoctor. And it was obvious. Because, either they themselves, or their children wore amulets. See those yellow arrows below? They are pointing to amulets that are tied onto this sweet, beautiful, precious scared-to-death-of-the-white-lady-with-the-camera, princess.
Amulets bought from the village's witchdoctor and include spells, potions or who knows what else on/in them to keep away evil spirits and to bring good luck. But the truth is, those amulets don't ward off the evil, they attract the evil.
I have always wondered if it is easy to experience the dark spiritual realm while in Africa based on the prissm through which we westerners view Africa – the dark continent where witchcraft and evil spirits run rampant! Thanks to national geographic, hollywood's depiction of Africa and missionaries war stories...
Oh Lisa! I know you are correct in how most westerners view Africa. And, it breaks my heart deeply. Some of my own family views Africa that way and, truly, it crushes me...and angers me.
Believe me when I say that I believed, before I ever went, that Africa is beautiful. Not only the landscape, but her people. I fell in love with Africa's people before I ever touched her soil. I can't explain how or why but I did.
Honestly, I expected to experience the supernatural while I was in Guinea-Bissau. I FULLY EXPECTED that I would see and experience things that I had never seen or experienced before. But, even that didn't meet my expectations.
You see, I expected to see the MIRACULOUS not the darkness. About a year or so before I went, one of the teams from our church went to one of the villages we've partnered with to plant a church. One of my husband's very good friends saw a New Testament miracle with his very own eyes! Indeed, he and another man prayed over a lame man and the lame man GOT UP AND WALKED AWAY. Neil (my husband's friend - and also the husband of my good friend) brought home the man's walking stick. I don't remember specifically how long the man had been lame but long enough that his thumb had worn a spot in the stick that he used to walk with. I'VE TOUCHED the not-so-lame-anymore man's former walking stick. I've ran my thumb across the wood that his thumb had worn smooth.
THAT is what I expected to see. Not the darkness. In fact, before I left the darkness never even occurred to me. Yes, I expected to see the supernatural. But not like I did. But I've found that God likes to surprise me more often than He likes to prove me right. But yes Lisa, I agree, and find it disturbing, that most western people view Africa as a dark continent. It makes me want to leave this country so much faster and prove to the people watching us that Africa is BEAUTIFUL and worth sacrificing a few comforts for the salvation of her people.
Then, Lisa reaches into my journal, plagiarizes my thoughts ;) and says the following,
To me, it appears as though we westerners never look at our own sins through the prism of the spiritual realm, but somehow the same sins in the “dark” continent and in Asia can only be attributed to this realm and not man’s fallen and sin nature.
I agree. And let me tell you all, America is out of control with the labels. Now, I'm probably going to start a whole 'nother debate but can I just go out on another limb?
I have some illnesses that run in my family. Sure, there are times with these particular illness can be situational, seasonal and sometimes even chemical imbalances. But the fact that this same illness has plagued my family for GENERATIONS should make me stop and recognize that it's probably less of an illness and more of a oppression from darkness. And I should be doing everything in my power to release my family from this bondage!
I know. Gasp! I said it. Out loud. But you know what? I think it's true. And not just for my family. Now, I am NOT saying that mental illnesses aren't serious. I'm not saying that they're not legitimate. But I do believe that Americans are very quick to get a prescription for their woes rather than renouncing the dark powers that potentially have a hold on their lives. I wholly agree with Lisa that Americans (and westerners) don't give enough credit to our own sin, fallen nature and the darkness that creeps around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. People! Our enemy is real. Why do we discredit him so much in our western world? THAT is why I desire to speak the truth about my time in West Africa.
(Cue the crazy lady stares and eye-contact avoidance on Sunday Morning. I'm ready. Bring it people. My family isn't any more messed up than yours. Let's all stop pretending, okay?)
Lastly, Lisa mentions that she cannot find any biblical evidence for the dark spiritual realm only existing in one geographical area.
Well, Lisa, I think you'll agree with me on this one. There is, in fact, one geographical area that is predominantly suppressed by the dark spiritual realm. It's little sphere of dirt and water called Earth. The enemy is called, among other things, the prince of the power of the air - meaning HE'S EVERYWHERE. And y'all he's out to get us, whether we chose to see him, believe he exists or give him any credit for the evil that surrounds us. He's not just chillin' in Africa or Asia. He's in the country you live in, the state in which you reside, the city you buy your groceries in and sometimes, even knocking on your door.
True, we are indeed driven by our own sinful selves and our fallen world. But he's after us. He's seeking to destroy us. He's looking for a foothold to drag us down. He's got authority over demons and forces and darkness beyond what our little minds can comprehend.
He's real, whether you like it or not. But, we should all take heart. Because, like Dave Ramsey says (and I'm gonna paraphrase here)...
"It's all going to be okay. I've read the back of The Book. It's okay guys. WE WIN."
So, what do you all think?
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