Guard Your Heart

 “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” ~ Proverbs 4:23

The election cycle was finally over.  For months, defenders and detractors engaged in a kind of civil war creating perpetual chaos.  It was expensive … and caustic … and exhausting; causing rifts in families and between friends.  Aaron felt bludgeoned by it all - like tennis shoes in a dryer.

He went to bed on New Year’s Eve still feeling somewhat stunned and mildly depressed.  He fell on knees in prayer wondering how the greatest nation on earth had fallen to such depths and worrying how it would ever turn around.  Before his head hit the pillow, Aaron lifted his eyes to Heaven and cried out, “God, why don’t You do something?”

God often spoke to him in the middle of the night, probably because that’s when he was the quietest.  Listening to God was a priority that Aaron constantly needed to remind himself of.  Much like tuning out social media, he had to dim the noise to listen to the Father.

God’s response was simple and concise, “I did do something, I created you.”

Aaron woke the next morning more hopeful - 2020 was finally over.  It needed to be.  And he had some decisions to make.

While it seemed that in a year dominated by ignorance and hatred, he decided to believe people wanted something better.  He’d gotten a giant wake up call.  So, he decided to wake up being the BEST he could be.

Cynicism was a cowardly refuge - a spiritual state so toxic that it clouded his ability to see faint opportunities.  I also gave rise to increased social isolation.

As a person of faith, he decided it was time to reject cynicism, defy apathy, and celebrate good.  Nothing could be greater than the Lord’s calling to show compassion for the sick, to feed the hungry, to demonstrate His humility and forgiveness in action.

He decided not to let the election interfere with his making every day as meaningful as possible.  Continuing to be mired in withdrawal and negativity served no one.  Aaron actually found the election result a great motivator for deeper spiritual practice.

Further, he decided to show up and bear witness to pain, in all its intricate manifestations, yet work to keep his heart open; choosing kindness, empathy, and love.  For that’s where the real healing begins.  And he was certainly up for the task.

Everything that comes from us, whether it be actions or words or even our thoughts, flows from our hearts.  So, guard it carefully! 

God could have made every heart “good to go.”  Instead, He decided to let us start with deceitful hearts requiring an assurance of faith to transform them into His likeness.  So, buckle up.  It’s going to be a life-long process.

Lord, create in me a clean heart, one that’s pleasing to You.  “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in Your sight, Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.” ~ Psalm 19:14”  Amen

Rise and Shine

 “Observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.” ~ Deuteronomy 5:12

Food carried so many wonderful childhood memories for Anne; memories that satisfy the taste buds, the heart and the soul.  She recalled recall dozens of happy reflections, but none more special than learning how to make challah with Bubbe.

Challah is a tender, subtly-sweet egg bread typically eaten on ceremonial Jewish occasions.  It’s delicious, but according to Grandma, there are some deep spiritual lessons to be learned from the challah baking experience itself.

“Baking challah,” she said, “is my meditation.  So, it’s important to have an intention when baking challah since it takes far more time than baking brownies from an instant mix.”

For young Anne, it seemed that waiting was the worst part.  But Bubbe reminded her that the toughest part was creating exactly the ‘right’ condition for the dough to rise.  “Dough like love, will rise and shine if they were reverent and waited in wonder.”

Anne waited (without peeking) while the yeast and honey activated each other, rising the mixture in a bowl covered bowl left in the sunshine.  When it had risen into a puffy miracle, Bubbe dumped it on the counter and slapped it flat again; explaining that life does that to us as well.  “Our job,” she said, “is to knead the bread until it becomes flexible and shiny.” 

After one more rise, she’d separate the dough into 3 long pieces (representing truth, peace, and justice) and line them up next to each other. 

With fingers gnarled like old tree roots, they moved delicately braiding one hunk of dough over another, like arms intertwined.  She’d whisper:

“This is Reuben’s gift of leadership; may he use it to help Aaron with his struggling business.  Kayla has a gift for making things beautiful, may she use it to help Rayna find a husband.  This is my gift of patience, may we all use it as role models for our children.”

On she went, weaving the family’s resources with the challenges of others, pausing between each so Anne’s tiny fingertips could touch each intersecting place.  Once plaited, she let her jewel rise one final time.

At dinner that night, Bubbe lit each candle before cutting the golden Challah and gave each person a slice.  Grandma winked at Anne knowing that all were nourished with their prayers and blessings. 

When the child helped Bubbe clear the table, she asked if someday she’d be a good mother too? 

“Yes, my darling,” she answered.  “When you expand the love in your heart - love in the world also rises.  By loving others, you can braid the resources and challenges together in what seems like impossible situations.  Your life will come alive again and again.” 

She kissed Anne’s fingertips again as they each took one final bite of the Sabbath bread.

“Blessed are You Lord, who has sanctified us with Your commandments and taught us to separate the challah from the dough.  Just as I’m fulfilling this mitzvah with all my heart, so may Your compassion keep me from sorrow and pain.  Amen.”

Preemie Saves Doctor

 “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith." ~ Ephesians 2:8

Chris Trokey entered the world ten weeks early.  Rushed by ambulance to the region’s only neonatal ICU, the preemie was given only a flip-of-the-coin chance of survival.  He weighed just 3.2 pounds at birth, but within hours the tough little guy started breathing on his own.

Distraught parents searched for a local pediatrician skilled enough to deal with the health issues that premature babies often face.  Enter Dr. Michael Shannon sporting a denim shirt and shoulder-length hair.  He seemed remarkably calm.  They hit it off immediately. 

Weeks later, after several days in which the baby fought a dangerous fever, Dr. Shannon took the entire family into his care.  Working tirelessly to keep the infant alive, he even slept beside Chris in the NICU for two nights so that his parents could return home for some needed rest.

Fast forward 30 years.  As Shannon traversed the Pacific Coast Highway toward the beach, a semitruck pulled out directly in front of him.  The physician had no time to react.  Having remained conscious during the impact, he felt intense pain. His legs and feet, pinned beneath the crumpled dashboard, felt blistering hot.  

Help arrived in less than two minutes.  Engine Company 29 from the Orange County Fire Dept. was nearby; returning to the firehouse when they got the call. Their timing couldn’t have been better.

Arriving at the scene, a young paramedic assessed the accident’s severity at 9 out of 10.  The SUV was wedged under the semi, its engine ablaze with flames scorching Shannon’s legs and feet.  But the man inside the burning vehicle remained strangely composed.

Fire crews quickly doused the flames and pried the roof open to remove Shannon for transport to the nearest trauma hospital.  The paramedic placed Shannon on a gurney and sat with him in the back of the ambulance; siren’s blaring.

Only then did the injured doctor notice the young man’s nametag – Chris Trokey.  Could this be the same man who he’d saved as a preemie three decades earlier?  The same boy whose parents had courageously faced the possibility that their newborn might not survive a frighteningly high temperature?

Ever the professional, Trokey remained completely focused.

The day after Shannon’s surgery for internal injuries and severe leg burns, Trokey and the crew from Engine 29 visited Shannon in the ICU.  That was unusual; firefighters and paramedics routinely save lives.  But this case had been such a close call.

That’s where their connection became confirmed.  Chris Trokey returned Dr Shannon’s favor.  Each of them entered the other’s life at a critical time, watching over them until they got well; giving without expectations and then getting it back when needed most. 

Not a coincidence – a God thing!  Then again, all things are.

Christ my King, it’s tempting to think that we might be able to help ourselves out of our predicaments, but our help comes from God alone.  Help us turn our lives over to You in faith, trusting in Christ’s death on the cross.  Amen

Yoke's On You

 “Come to Me, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light." ~ Matthew 11:28-30

(Around 6 AD) 

As boys, we played together in the streets of Nazareth.  He was the kind of kid who lived how people should, as if only sunshine radiated from those he met, their flaws entirely invisible.  Most of all, he was my friend.

We loved watching his dad make all kinds of things from wood.  A carpenter in the 1^st century built everything from plows and wheels, to house beams and every need in between.  He might have been best known for his skill in making yokes so necessary to guide oxen in the fields.

A yoke is a piece of wood used to hold two animals together in order to plow fields.  The stronger one bears most of the weight, yet they share the load, doing the work together.  Joseph designed them for specific teams of animals, carefully measured height and shoulder widths. 

When my family moved to Capernaum, everything seemed to change.  The laws have become worrisome.  We’re barely making it; our savings are gone.  I miss my friend; the kindness in his smile, his calming influence.

Today at the Temple, I found my childhood friend … preaching.  Melting into the crowd, I listened in awe as he “sat among the religious teachers, praising God and discussing deep questions with them; amazed at his understanding and his responses.” (Luke 2:46–47)

As he caught my eye, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.  I felt as if our childhood days suddenly came to mind, inspiring him.  I could almost smell the sawdust and hear the sandpaper moving across bare wood as his father silently coaxed the perfect yoke into shape.

His words stole my breath. “Come to Me, all who are heavily burdened,” Jesus said staring directly at me.  “For My yoke is easy; My burden is light.” 

It was as if He could see my inner struggles, my anxious life.

He’d learned how to fashion a yoke from his father.  Hearing Jesus gave me courage.  I felt renewed hope.  I went to the village looking for temporary solutions to temporal problems.  I returned with a longer-term solution: reliance on the providence of God. 

Could my old playmate really be God’s anointed one?

As we yoke ourselves with Christ, walking through the hardships and challenges of life, we’re connected with the One who’s the ultimate burden bearer and lifter.  We’re reminded that the problems we bear aren’t to be dismissed as insignificant (they truly matter to Him!).  He longs for us to trade for his ‘gentle, calm’ support.  One that adds new vigor to our lives as we continue to do the good work that God prepared for us; one that offers our greatest hope eternal salvation.

Father God, the battle feels intense some days.  We feel tired, weary and worn.  It’s hard to keep going in the face of defeat.  But help us remember that You’ll never leave us; that You alone have the power to make all things new.  Amen

 

Choose Your Hard

 “God’s Spirit gives us power, love, and discipline." ~ 2 Timothy 1:7

Jo always wanted to be an author, finishing her very first novel by the sixth grade.  Like many aspiring authors, however, her parents encouraged her to pursue more lucrative studies.  But she’d never stop writing and bringing her dreams to life.

After her application to attend Oxford was summarily rejected, she attended the lesser-known university, earning a BA in French.  Jo worked as a researcher for Amnesty International after graduation.  Living modestly was hard.  But the experience would forever shape her values.

On a four-hour train from Manchester to London, an idea for a novel popped into her head.  She’d spend the next five years outlining the plots for an entire series.  Writing from a mountain of notes in longhand was hard but suppressing her creative energy was tougher yet. 

Bored with her current job, she moved to Portugal to teach English as a second language.  There she met and married a Portuguese journalist.  They had a child together.  It was difficult to be an attentive, loving wife and mother.  But an abusive relationship was hell too.  They split up shortly after Jessica’s birth.  Mother and child returned to the UK.

Single, jobless and desperate, Jo applied for welfare.  Stress began taking its toll.  She even contemplated suicide.  Therapy for depression was hard but feeling dead inside was worse.

She continued plunking out her novel on an antique manual typewriter.  When complete, Jo approached 12 publishing houses; they all turned her down.  Rejection took patience, but she never lost hope.

She’d finally get the green light (and a $2,500 advance) a year later.  The Editor’s 8-year-old daughter from Bloomsbury Publishing had been given the first chapter to review and immediately demanded more. 

Though Bloomsbury agreed to publish the book, they advised her to get a day job, noting she’d stand little chance of making money in children's books.  They further suggested she use two initials rather than her full name; the target audience of young boys probably wouldn’t read a book written by a woman.  Of the initial print run of 1,000 copies, 500 were given to libraries.

Today, Joanne ‘Jo’ Kathleen Rowling (aka JK Rowling), remains one of the best-selling living authors in the world.  Her Harry Potter brand is worth an estimated US$15 billion thanks to a near-cult following worldwide.  Seven best-selling novels translated into 77 languages, eight blockbuster movies and eleven video games.

Rowling’s inspirational story shows that hard work and perseverance can change our lives.  But the alternatives are equally hard.  Losing weight is hard; but it’s difficult to be overweight and unhealthy too.  It’s hard to save intelligently and spend frugally.  It’s also hard to be in debt and constantly stressed about money.

We get to choose our hard.  So, pick wisely.

Father, help me to not lean solely on my own opinions, thoughts, or dreams.  Give me the Godly knowledge and truth as I “choose my hard,” and the courage, strength and confidence as I discern the next steps needed to satisfy Your will for me.  Amen

Its A Beautiful Morning

 “Give thanks to God in all circumstances." ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:18

On this frigid winter morning, Abby hadn’t slept well the night before.  “Please,” she thought, “just let daylight come with the delicacy of a gentle dawn; let me doze underwing.”  But the rising sun had other ideas.  A beam of light snuck through drawn curtains and started prodding her eyelids as they strained to remain shut.

Shedding the last glimpses of a dream, her eyes remained closed; soaking in the warmth of her duvet before letting blue eyes greet the sun's rays.  Reluctantly, Abby uncovered her face and blinked several times.  She sat up, dragging her feet off the bed, and stretched her arms skyward.

Groaning, she sat up on the side of the bed, letting her feet find the floor.  Standing took a little effort – feeling like she’d just finished a full day’s work rather than about to begin one.  Abby wasn’t looking forward to another Saturday of washing clothes, doing dishes, cleaning house, and all the other things that’d been neglected during the past week.

She sighed.  Pulling on yoga pants, shirt, and heavy coat, she already knew what waited on the other side of the door.

There stood Cool Whip - their extra big, extra fluffy white dog.  She adored his smiling face, energetic body, and wagging tail wondering how he woke that way every morning without even a single cup of coffee.

Abby leashed him up and opened the front door so he could take his morning walk and do the necessary business.  He dragged her towards the Maple tree, his nose sniffing all the way, as below freezing winds slapped her face.

She breathed in fresh, crisp air while gazing upward, capturing the morning sunrise blessing the sky with all its beauty.  It was one of those baby-blue skies, not the psychedelic candy-blue nor the washed out grey so characteristic of wintry mornings.  The clouds were as puffs of radiant joy, as if inviting those born of wing to ride warm thermals heaven-bound.

A grateful smile creased her face.  Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad, after all.  Abby looked forward to another day of hugging her kids, petting her dog, talking with my friends, living in God’s grace and sharing her own love as well.  What a glorious gift.

Our lives can be overwhelming at times.  We can easily get discouraged, frustrated, and burned out by circumstances beyond our control.  But, when we remember that God’s in control and our lives are not our own, we realize how our Savior encourages and comforts us in our times of need.

May yours be a day of love, of laughter, of kindness, of goodness, and a one of pure joy. Make each day a blessing that you share with God and with everyone you meet today.

Thank You, Lord, for Your amazing work in our lives, thank You for Your goodness and for Your blessings over us.  Thank You for bringing hope through even the toughest of times, strengthening us for Your purpose.  Amen

A Christmas to Remember

 “For a child is born to us today.  He will be called the Prince of Peace." ~ Isaiah 9:6

All Aliyah knew was that she’d been abandoned near a police station.  She never knew her birth parents and never will. 

She suffered abandonment issues from that day, often dreaming about them coming to get her; waiting and thinking up rescue scenarios.  Each night she said a prayer that, wherever her Mom was, she was safe and had found peace in letting her baby go.

For the first 10 years, she was in and out of numerous neglectful, abusive or otherwise love-less foster homes.  Some memories will never leave.  

She spent 3 years with a lady who blew the monthly stipend from DCFS on her own kids while Aliyah ate maybe once a day, if lucky.  But the woman was generous with beatings; some bordering on torture (making her kneel on uncooked rice seemed a favorite of hers). 

 Aliyah grew up believing that exploitation and desertion were normal.  If the system was a teacher, then she was incredibly cruel.  

Some places were more like group homes where she shared a room with four or more other abandoned kids.  Some were nice.  Others acted out – physically, emotionally, even sexually.

Holidays just reminded her what she lost.  Once she even came into a new home the day before Christmas and expected to fit right in – to pretend that she liked all their holiday traditions.  They never stopped to think it was overwhelming, different or depressing for her.

Earlier this year, Jasmine and Terrell Williams entered her story.  They’d fostered more than a dozen children over the years.  But because there was no chance of Aliyah ever being reunited with her parents, the Williams’ felt a special love for her.

That had happened once before – a nice couple with two children her age.  But divorce separated them all.  Aliyah entered the foster merry-go-round once again. 

As they gathered around the Christmas tree, there was a knock at the door. 

“Aliyah – could you get the door please,” Terrell asked.

She opened the door to an old-fashioned Santa Claus holding an envelope in his outstretched mitten.  “This is for you Aliyah, from two people who really love you and that believe gifts should be of the heart.”

She opened the envelope and removed a simple card that read: “Merry Christmas Aliyah, if you’ll have us, we’d love to ADOPT you and complete our family.”  Signed Jasmine and Terrell

Beneath the frenetic calls of money, gifts and Christmas cheer, there’s a quietness that whispers of love as our truth.  When we invite the stillness in, there is a sense of thankfulness strong enough to greet storms and sunny days just the same.  Merry Christmas my friends!

God our Father, help us remember the birth of Jesus, that we may share in the Angel’s song, the Shepherd’s wonder and the Wise Men’s worship.  Close the door of hate and open the door of love for all people.  May this morning bring us joy at being Your children and tonight bring sleep with grateful thoughts.  Amen 

Lessons from the Greatest Generation"

 “When I’m afraid for the future, I put my faith in You Lord." ~ Psalm 56:3

We’re about to lose one of America’s most precious resources. Not oil, gas or rare metals. What we’re about to lose is the living presence of those from the “Greatest Generation.” For many, COVID will be their last struggle. Some, like my Dad, won’t survive.

They grew up during the Great Depression and came of age during World War II.  That generation created the strongest consumer culture ever, set us on its path to world power and unparalleled prosperity. They did so with ingenuity and wisdom; but also grit, sacrifice, and humility.

Those who were lucky enough to have known and worked with them are better for it.

This is a different country than the U.S. of 1941, when there were only 133 million Americans, when Ted Williams batted .406, and “Pinocchio” graced the nation’s big screens. Today there are 325+ million more of us. We’re generally wealthier, communicate in ways unthinkable back then, and travel much farther from home. But we’re far less amiable toward sacrifice.

For kids like my Dad, adult responsibilities came early.  Many helped support their families by hustling papers, cleaning houses, and picking crops. They worked hard at whatever job was available, taking great pride in their work.

They viewed personal responsibility as an honor. Something bestowed upon them. Something to be cherished, respected, and grateful for. They accepted all consequences, whether good or bad; never whining or blaming. 

In that day, society held itself to a higher standard; humility and modesty were core values. They did it out of a sense of duty - whatever was best for family, community, and country.

If your parents were like mine, then their house was filled with stuff. Their pack-rat mentality grew from an earlier time when the next canister of flour or pair of shoes was never guaranteed. Their frugality enabled them to amass healthy savings even on limited incomes.

We were a much more religious nation back then. Believing in God helped those who struggled through the Depression and sustained soldiers fighting on distant battlefields. At home, millions prayed fervently for the safe return of loved ones in uniform. And if they did not return, families relied on God and their faith for the strength to bear the grief and continue living.

These times are shaping who we are today. The hardships, and lessons, are not all that different than they were nearly a century ago. Adversities should remind us of that which is truly important and the values we are quickly leaving behind ... values the Greatest Generation embodied.

If we do, there’s no reason why we, too, can’t achieve greatness in the eyes of future generations.

Almighty Father, we are living in trying and uncertain times.  Help us learn from our elders’ examples that sacrifice can be good for us, that discipline is required of us, that humility is essential for us, and that You will guide us.  Amen

The Prodigals

 “There’s no other god like You, forgiving our sins and showing us your constant love." ~ Micah 7:18

Chloe, an otherwise healthy 24-year-old female with no past medical history, grew tired of the COVID pandemic; weary of the monotony, frustrated about complying with overly-restrictive guidelines, and hopeless - as if nothing could keep her safe from exposure anyway.

Tired, worried and lonely, she bought a ticket to St. Thomas and headed south - reasoning that the hotel would be mostly empty and reassuringly clean.  Surely the virus transmission rate had to be lower than Michigan. (In fact, the coronavirus infection rate in St. Thomas had been steadily climbing; Chloe’s risk of catching it grew rapidly during her stay.)

After four glorious days of sun, fun and what only can be described as excessive partying, Chloe returned home.  During the week that followed, the critical period of potential transmission, Chloe went on shopping trips and met up with friends; social distancing be damned!

Then it hit.  Fast … fierce … vicious! 

It began with fever, fatigue, and joint pain.  Probably just a bad case of the flu, she mistakenly thought.   When the malaise got worse, chest tightness confirmed that it could be nothing else.   COVID-19!

She imagined vulnerable relatives and friends and relatives dying and never forgiving herself.  Work colleagues shamed her for being so selfish.  Friends quickly distanced themselves; they were scared too.

The illness marched on; every day a new surprise.  Headaches, upset stomach, dizziness.  She thought she must be dying; maybe even wished she was.

Her Dad phoned.  “Chloe, please come home, we’ll care for you here safely,” he pleaded.

On her trip homeward, she rehearsed the speech she prepared for her father: “Dad, I’m so sorry.  Can you forgive me?”  Her throat constricted more with each word.

Tiny snowflakes hit the pavement as worn tires approached the childhood home she hadn’t seen in years.  Of the dozens of scenes that’d played out in her mind, none prepared her for what she saw. 

There, on the front porch stood her father, mother and twin brothers. A banner taped across the front of the house read, “Welcome Home!”

She sobbed.  Chole’s Dad accepted her before words ever left her mouth.

Of course, she had been wastefully extravagant, but her father was more lavishly excessive with his grace, mercy, and forgiving.

In many ways, we are all like Chloe.  We stray from God’s presence when we grow weary in our faith; being pulled by the world to embrace its destructive ways.  We lose sight of our Father because we’re full of ourselves.

Thankfully, He is a sovereign God.  His relentless pursuit is greater than our ability to wander; forgiving us as if nothing happened.  He embraces us as if we’re not flawed and untidy, and sees our value when we deem ourselves worthless.

Thank You Father, for giving us Your only Son who loved us enough to come to earth and experience the worst pain imaginable so we could be forgiven. Your mercy flows to us in spite of our many faults and failures.  Amen

"And When I Die"

 “You were created in God’s glory and for sharing His love." ~ Isaiah 43:7

The day will come when I will lie utterly still, eyes open but unfocussed, staring into oblivion.  My body will rest upon a soft white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of a thin mattress located in a hospital hosted by those living and dying.  At some point, a doctor will conclude that my brain has stopped functioning.  Essentially my life on earth has ended.

My soul will be recalled to our Heavenly Father; what’s left is simply parts and tissue.  The Bible doesn’t give many details about what happens next.  But it’s safe to say that we’ll enter a reality far beyond our comprehension.

So, don’t worry about me.  Death is only the end of one chapter I hope.

When that time comes, don’t implant artificial life into my body by the use of machines.  Let my body be used to help others lead fuller, deeper, richer lives.

Give my heart to a person whose own ticker lacked compassion and kindness.  Help them aim for a fresh start – at seeing the innocence in children; at listening with all his senses, at using his God-given talents for worthy purposes.

Give my sight to the woman who has never seen a sunrise, a puppy’s yearning, or the brilliance of fireworks on the 4^th of July.  Let her see every moment with eagerness; filled with wonder.

Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from his car’s wreckage, so that he might live to show others the suffering associated with impaired driving.  Donate my kidneys to someone who depends on dialysis for survival.  Take my bones, all muscle, and every nerve in my body.  Find a way to make a child with special needs walk.

Give my skin to the mother suffering the excruciating pain of burns from a house fire.  Help my tissue provide a temporary wound dressing until her own skin can heal.  Give her a broad smile that exudes confidence, enthusiasm, and authenticity.

Explore every corner of my brain.  Cultivate any useful cells so that: someday a boy without speech will cheer at the crack of a bat; a girl with a hearing loss will hear the gentle sound of rain on her window; they can be genetically modified to recognize and kill cancer cells.

Burn what is left of me and scatter the ashes to the winds to help the flowers grow.  If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses and all prejudice against other human beings.

If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or word to someone who needs you.  If you do all I have asked, my spirit will watch over you and I will live in your heart forever.

God of health and healing, You taught us that death can never end our story, for we are blessed to be a blessing; Your grace is our delight.  Thank You for those who have made the decision that, in death, life must be shared.  Amen