Ready to Go Home

I have effectively been on my own since 2018, but I have always consoled myself that I have family, friends, and most especially the Holy Spirit. There have been times when I felt that even the latter was not enough, and I indulged in despair and thoughts of self-harm. I have now completed my cross-country trek and gratefully enjoyed the opportunity to visit my daughters and former wife. The visit went better than I could have hoped, though it once more brought to light my failures and foibles that too often hinder my relationships. With this portion of my trip concluding, I find myself choked-up, reflecting on what I had, what I lost, and the enduring loneliness my choices have forged. Confronted by the pain of saying goodbye to those I love, I cling to the Holy Spirit that animates me. I am ready to go home.

Genesis 2:18 “And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.”

Who Am I? Why Am I Here? Why Won’t my Laptop Boot?

I typically restrict my posts to expositions of my thoughts or leading regarding my walk of faith. Though my faith underlies my thoughts, this post will be more one of wandering in the desert, so – my apologies.

I don’t know who I am. I have become a stranger to myself, looking in the mirror and seeing only a shadow of someone I once knew. How did I get here? God only knows. Literally, God only knows. In the silence of the evening or the still of morning, my mind wanders once familiar paths, but they are paths leading through the past, illuminated only by dim recollections and shadowy reminiscences. Perhaps a stranger is better than remaining the person I once was. A stranger presents the possibility of a blank slate, giving me once more the ability to choose who writes me upon it. The painful truth though is the realization that there is no one who wants to know me – either the me I was or the me I may become. I once had someone describe me as an “empty well”. I have wondered what was meant by that assessment, lacking the courage to ask for further elaboration. When something hurts, it is rarely wise to ask for clarification that could potentially make any pain you feel more exquisite.

An empty well can mean many things. It can be a well that was drained and never refilled, leaving only a blighted scar on the surface conveying only memories and the continued danger of falling in. It can be a dry well wherein the efforts and investment in drilling yielded only loss and disappointment. Or it can be an unfinished well, where desire and commitment failed before drilling deep enough to reach the reward that initially inspired the effort. In reflecting on this, both through prayer and my own limited understanding, I initially believed that I was being assessed as one of the three. I naturally clung to the last as it offered the possible promise of a positive outcome. After all, you don’t wander through the desert desiring for more sand, and it’s only the hope of an oasis that inspires further wandering. However, I have recently concluded that it isn’t just one of the three that is true, but all three at once.

Later this month I will take a trip to visit my daughters, whom I haven’t seen in several years. In so doing, I will be prying off the well caps to all three realities. We will connect based on the recollections of that  life the well provided before, we will address the long dry spell that has existed since that first well was capped, and I will commit to prying off the third well cap and drilling deeper in hopes of establishing a new and deeper relationship. I am confident in the latter, as I daily strive to yield the control of the drill to the Holy Spirit, who understands the dirt I am drilling in better than anyone. I am reminded of the passage from Psalm 37, verse 25 – “I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.”

1 Thessalonians 2:13

Have you ever had a verse embed itself within your consciousness? I have had this verse lodged in my mind since attending Bible college in the late 1980’s. I attributed this to a quirk of my mind, as I remember many things that I wish I could forget, but lately it has occurred to me that this may be an ongoing work of the Holy Spirit. I didn’t remember the citation, which I had to research for this post, but the words (KJV) have never left me. “For this cause also thank we God without ceasing, because when ye received the word of God which ye heard of us, ye received it not as the word of men, but as it is in truth, the word of God which effectually worketh also in you that believe.” Why this verse from the Apostle Paul’s letter to the church at Thessaloniki should stand out to me left me baffled, until I finally paused to consider its meaning to me.

I am not a street preacher. Personality-wise I am INTJ, which means that I am an introvert, as well as a few other things. Crowds exhaust me and I avoid public speaking. Although I can and have accepted leadership positions, I still harbor the recollection of a speech impediment I had as a child – an impediment that kept me from the ability to communicate my own name. Yet, in my heart, there is an abiding wish to spread the gospel. I accept this hunger as the word of God working effectually in me, but to what avail? I remember that in Bible college there was an older gentleman with a passion for God. In speaking to him, his vocabulary was simple and his speech often halting. But when he shared the gospel, he was transformed – I could have listened to him for hours. I had the honor and gift of witnessing God’s word working effectually in him. The living word, the Holy Spirit, using an imperfect vessel and perfecting His strength in him.

In considering the Apostle Paul’s statement, I am struck by the phrase “which ye heard of us”. The word “us” includes me. Again, you won’t find me on a street corner, unless I’m waiting for the light to change, but I (and you) can be a part of “us” by supporting ministries that seek to fulfill the great commission: “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.”1 For me, this means inviting others to my church. It means supporting the Thru the Bible ministry with the teaching of Pastor J. Vernon McGee, and directing others to it. I am grateful that God has welcomed me to be a part of “us”, and it’s my prayer that we grow.

1 Matthew 28:19-20

Sorry I Haven’t Written…

Prayer has always been a challenge for me. I have never been a particularly social person, and even in terms of personal relationships I often fail to maintain my side of the social construct. I am too comfortable with silence and too easy in my own company. So, though I have a relationship with Jesus, I often do not sustain it with extemporaneous communication. Part of the problem lies with the feeling that when I talk to Him it should be in a formal setting with defined parameters.  It has occurred to me, though, that I am much better at writing than I am at small talk – not that talk with God is in any way small. Also, like many people, when I pray I start with an opening “Dear God” and conclude with “Amen”.  This works, but I don’t typically organize my thoughts in advance. I believe prayers should be spontaneous, but spontaneity has never been my strength. So, I start with “Dear God”, throw in everything and the kitchen sink in a disorganized jumble, and conclude with an “in Jesus’ name, amen”. Because I haven’t prepared, I frequently recall topics I wished to bring to Him in prayer after I had already concluded my prayer. In considering this conundrum, I remembered that years ago when I planned for dates with who would become my future wife, how desperately I strove for  for spontaneity. Since spontaneity didn’t come naturally to me, I would rehearse a week or day ahead how our dates would proceed, so that on the day I knew what I would do, where I would park, what I would say so that it seemed spontaneous. Although it was rehearsed, spontaneity would have been far worse. Similarly, on those occasions when I would write her a letter, I would go through several drafts. This had the advantage of producing a more polished finished project, but it also left me with a record of what I had said. Perhaps this was a factor of living on the spectrum, but it worked for me and helped me, if not to overcome, at least to conceal my weaknesses. In this recollection, I am reminded of the Apostle Paul noting that God’s strength is made perfect in weakness.1

RecalIing this, I realized that the weakness I sought to overcome should perhaps be recognized as a gift that could enhance my relationship with Jesus. The process I relied on before could be used to show Him the same attention and planning that my “spontaneous” prayers lacked.  So, dear God, sorry I haven’t written…

Dear God,

Thank You… for your love, for your faithfulness, for each breath You lend me, for the friends and family who contribute to my happiness and to my understanding, for my pastor, for the body of Christ that has welcomed me. Thank You… for the pain, for the challenges, for my stumbles, for the sadness, for the joy. From Your word, I am convinced that we are near the end of the age, but even if I am mistaken, I am aware that I am near the end of my age. Even so, Your enduring grace has sustained me and made me more whole, more complete, than I could have ever achieved by my own efforts. That realization compels me to pray that You might do the same work in the lives of my family. In my youth, my arrogance and pride led me away from Your path, yet You sought me and guided me back. Lord please smile on my son and daughters and grant them the same kind guidance which You have shown to me. Open their eyes that they might see You and follow You. I pray, too for my friends and those special to me. In this public place I will not name them, but I trust You to know my heart. Although some may have hurt me, they are all precious to me. Continually create within me a new and clean heart that allows me to love them as You do, to see them as You do, and to witness to them as Your Holy Spirit would direct. I am too often empty and spent, but You continue to fill me again and again. Thank you. Although I long for the day I will see You, I am grateful for the strength You lend me and the faithful manner in which you continue to shape me. Keep working on me Lord, even as You reveal Your power and glory in the simplicity of my life. I love you Lord, and it’s in Jesus name that I pray, Amen.

1 2 Corinthians 12:9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

Come Quickly, but Maybe Not Today

Zohran Mamdani sealed Iran’s fate. With his election in New York, it became apparent that not all of the American people carefully weigh their sacred right to vote. They will blithely vote based on promises that objectively cannot be fulfilled and ignore the obvious dangers and risks that spell disaster. They will glibly get on a bus that promises they’ll arrive an hour earlier, ignoring that the key to its speed is its lack of brakes. It reminded us of the electorate that twice elected Barack Obama, despite a declining economy and a failed foreign policy, in pursuit of hope and change.

Barack Obama spoke fondly of the Muslim call for prayer and disguised his antisemitism as merely anti-Zionism. He implemented America’s participation in the JCPOA, knowing that it would not prevent Iran from gaining a nuclear weapon, but would merely prevent it from occurring on his watch. As an aside in the same deal, the United States funded global terrorism by delivering pallets of cash to the mullahs in Iran. How much blood is on the hands of America by turning a blind eye as we discreetly funded the global intifada?

As Alexander Hamilton warned us, the mob is too easily swayed. If we failed to address Iran now, there was a high probability that we would elect a leadership that will reinforce Islamists worldwide. We entered this action without the overt support of Muslim states such as Saudi Arabia, France, Qatar, UAE, and the UK; but with the clear support of western nations such as Canada and Australia. If we waited, how many more western nations would become Islamist? Would ours be among them? The Bible suggests that we are in the end times. Jesus tells us “Behold, I come quickly1”. Notwithstanding, as Christians we have an obligation – not to hasten the end, but to forestall it as long as possible. Each day presents a further opportunity for someone to accept Jesus. God would expect no less of us.

1 Revelation 22:7 Behold, I come quickly: blessed is he that keepeth the sayings of the prophecy of this book.

Sufficient Unto the Day…

As I write this, I am assuming that my brothers and sisters in Christ are still around to read it (not that they do – Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they miss). I posit this as many have forecast that the rapture of the church would have occurred yesterday on September 23. That so many would presume to make such a prediction despite Jesus having said no one knows the day or the hour1, it serves to remind us how selective many of us are in our reading of the scripture.

Notwithstanding, I am grateful that it did not occur. I’ve always been somewhat fearful of the rapture – of being caught up in the air2. My fears are personal ones – I don’t like heights and I’m afraid that there might be a weight limit. Having visited Legoland with my daughter, I was surprised that every ride had a weight limit that I exceeded, though they were happy to take my full price of admission without the advisal that my presence would only be supervisory. I imagine the rapture occurring while I am working in the yard – a flash of light, perhaps, and as in the movies my clothing being left in a heap next to the weedwhacker. But, as I am carried up to perhaps 30-35 feet, I imagine my lift subsiding and plunging back to the earth. While the world marvels at the disappearance of the church, I am later found, naked, scratched, battered, and bruised amongst the rose bushes and bougainvillea. So, I am sincerely grateful that no one knows the day or hour, most especially me. I can focus instead on keeping my heart ready and repeatedly visiting the gym to lessen my weight and my fears.

We live in a fallen world – don’t look at me, it was fallen when I got here. Despite that awareness, it still shocks us when evil people do evil things. I once worked in a jail, processing detainees in and out, and it opened my eyes to the realization of how blind I was. I had always assumed that evil people – murderers, rapists, robbers, and other sundry criminals; would look evil. But it was the banality of evil, the banality of both their appearance and their manner, that was both shocking and terrifying. My comfortable confidence that their villainy would be easily recognizable was shattered and I found myself reluctant to engage with faces that seemed familiar, as I could never be sure as to on what side of the bars I had previously encountered them.

But as evil befalls the righteous and unspeakable acts are perpetrated by the heretofore seemingly innocent, I take comfort in the sure and certain knowledge that the world is safely in our Lord’s hands. I will trust in Him (still working on the weight-limit thing, though). Jesus admonished us in Luke 12:34 “Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Accordingly, sufficient unto the day is the good thereof. I will be grateful for each day lent to me and trust Him for his faithful provision.

1 Matthew 24:36 But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.

2 1st Thessalonians 4:17 Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.

What does Forgiveness Look Like?

Addressing an issue from the past, someone suggested that I had never really forgiven them. My response of “yes, I have” seemed inadequate, so I thought it important to explore further. I realized, then, that I did not actually know what forgiveness looks like. My simplistic assumption was that forgiveness was simply not holding someone to account for past transgressions. Not revisiting the pain or the shock of past events, while looking forward with a clean slate. But for better or worse events and actions of the past, good or bad, are part of our story and belongs to both of us. So, it belongs to both of us to tell, but with grace not to hurt or injure, but to recall and perhaps from which to grow.

I then look to the forgiveness of God… of the sacrifice of Jesus. I know that my sins are forgiven – were forgiven before I committed them, through the sacrifice of Jesus. We are told that it is the blood of Jesus that washes away our sins. I’ve sang the hymns about a fountain filled with blood and heard countless sermons regarding the power of the blood. But how might I forgive someone else? How might I be forgiven by those (too many I’m sorry to admit) that I have wronged. I can’t follow God’s model, as bloodletting would be too creepy and not be appreciated by anyone. I then consider the passage where we are told that God casts our sins into the deepest sea.1  As far as my family is concerned, we’re not remarkable swimmers, but we are proficient deep-sea divers as far as the wrongs of others are concerned.

So, if I remember, how do I forgive? I believe God’s example is simpler than we realize. It’s not the spilling of blood that forgives sin, but the love that inspires that sacrifice. Like God’s sacrifice, it must be offered and accepted by both parties. The Bible tells us that if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.2 Similarly, we are told to confess our sins one to another.3 Such is our earthly forgiveness. We respond to one another with love in answer to our confessions. It doesn’t change our histories; it doesn’t remove the scar; but instead, it cleanses the reality of consequences with love – love that doesn’t weaponize the past nor rewrite the narrative. Forgiveness is a mutual endeavor in terms of both giving and receiving.

So, revisiting the question of the first paragraph – yes, I have forgiven. I deeply love the person to whom I gave that forgiveness and it remains my prayer that they can accept it – and extend their forgiveness to me.

1 Micah 7:19 He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our iniquities; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.

2 1 John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

3 James 5:16 Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed.

Waiting for a Better Moses?

A judge once told me that I have a “gift for the obvious”. Although he meant it as a slight (he was always a bit of an ass), I’ve remembered it and have come to claim his assessment as a positive trait. When I started this blog, my goal was to limit my entries to those related to my journey of faith and pointedly avoid any political commentary. However, the Holy Spirit keeps reminding me of the words of the Apostle Paul when he said “we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places”1. I’ve always interpreted that verse as referencing powers beyond our world, but I have come to understand that the “spiritual wickedness” can be present in those who play an ongoing role in our daily lives. Much of my enlightenment I attribute to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. But also I have to acknowledge the influence of those in the media such as Dennis Prager and Bill O’Reilly. The latter openly states that our government is corrupt, but as an objective journalist hopes for the best as our nation circles the drain. Perhaps most, I have to be grateful and thankful to God for my “gift for the obvious”.

So, employing my gift, let’s review the obvious.

Moses was a seriously flawed man. A murderer no less. When he came to deliver the Israelites out of Egypt, many distrusted him, many did not want to be delivered – and certainly not by a man like him. The children of Israel came into Egypt under the protection of Joseph, an Israelite himself and whom God had placed in authority in Egypt, second only to Pharaoh. The Israelites came into Egypt as a free people and their freedoms were protected. We are not told of the slippery slope they went down, but we next see that Egypt’s memory of Joseph was forgotten and the Israelites are now slaves in Egypt. Perhaps they were willing to give up their liberty for the promise of food and housing.  Perhaps laws were put into place to ensure the Israelites safety from the tyranny of the unknown. Perhaps their leaders protested the erosion of their freedoms and were imprisoned or killed for insurrection against Pharaoh. Those details are not shared with us. However, the history of slavery has taught us that the cruelty of enslavement is not the same for all of those who experience it. On the lowest level, we find those who are constantly under the lash. At the highest level, we find those who are granted privileges and prerogatives. These often are afforded the freedom to make decisions about those beneath them and frequently wield the lash themselves.  Perhaps the higher-ranking slaves were chosen by those beneath them to foster the illusion of self-determination. These were people in need of a deliverer, though not all could see this. And what of the taskmasters and overseers? Surely, they saw the growing unrest and dissatisfaction and cunningly sought to identify some PC (Pharaoh’s choice) individuals in whom the Israelites could place their hope and trust.

Today, many Americans would say that we are in need of a deliverer. We were a free people, having shaken off the yoke of foreign domination and established a new nation on a new continent. Are we still a free nation? If not, when did our freedoms begin to erode?  The Civil War represents a turning point. It has been characterized as the war between the states and the war to free the slaves. Remember, though, that history is written by the victors. It could be more aptly characterized as a war against the states, or a war to redefine and broaden slavery. Setting aside the abomination of slavery as it existed before the Civil War, we would repeatedly congratulate ourselves as being a free nation with a government existing by consent of the governed. In 1860, though, many people by and through their state governments withdrew their consent. This was not acceptable, though, to the federal government. Indeed, the federal authorities viewed the union as a one-way affair – you could check-in, but you couldn’t check out. So, the federal government conscripted an army from the remaining states to compel consent by force.

In the 20th century we’ve seen a further erosion of our freedoms. We have a national police force, founded by a corrupt transvestite, which now casts a jaundiced eye on anyone who too openly diverges from the government-approved narrative. We have a judicial system that conspires with the executive branch to quash dissent and imprison anyone who questions government-sanctioned corruption. We have a legislative branch that functions primarily to protect its power and enrich its members. Anyone not aspiring to or currently wetting their beaks in this trough of corruption would agree that we need a deliverer. In response to the discontent of our people, our Constitution affords us the opportunity to select a new leader for the federal government. We are provided with a slate of PC (politically correct) candidates to choose from, and there is little concern regarding the choices we might make since nothing will change.

But in 2016, something happened. A candidate came on the scene who was not PC, but was deemed so outrageous that he was given media attention and praise to ensure that the PC selection would have an easy path to victory. But those in power failed to see that although Donald Trump was a seriously flawed man, a narcissist, an adulterer; these were not disqualifying to a people hungry for change. They were confident that he would be dismissed as completely unacceptable, once they focused their media machine against him. What they failed to understand was that the people did not like where they were, and were looking for someone to take them out, to deliver them, from their situation. They didn’t grasp that when people are looking for a bus, the past failings of the driver are largely irrelevant.

But perhaps there is a better Moses waiting in the wings. Perhaps if we wait we will find a more acceptable alternative. I’m sure our vote will not be diluted or negated by the millions being invited in. It is a cause for prayer, and for the comforting truth that times are unfolding according to God’s plan. Having read ahead to the end of the book, I’m comfortable with the outcome. Meanwhile… the door is opening and I can hear the driver calling All Aboard!

1 Ephesians 6:12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

The Journeys Toward Life and Death

My wife miscarried early in her first pregnancy. This was a tragedy. My sister delivered a stillborn full-term baby girl. This, too, was a tragedy. Tears were shed after each, but the magnitude of my sister’s loss was comparatively far greater than that experienced by my wife and me.

I don’t know what lives either of those children might have led, but I sometimes imagine how our lives and the world might have been changed had their promise and blessing been fulfilled. Their journeys to life, though, were interrupted for reasons known only to God. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord… and blessed be new life with all of the hope and promise of the future. New life comes to us at the conclusion of a spectrum of blessing that begins with conception and is fulfilled with the delivery of that new life into the world. For some though, that journey can rapidly change to a spectrum of tragedy with a new life being aborted. Not by a doctor or any human intervention, but rather by the unknowable will of God.

Regardless of whether you walk in the Light and Life of Christ and accept His gift of salvation, or whether you follow another path, our time on this plane of existence was never promised to be easy. Similarly, the journey to life is often echoed by the journey to death that many of us have witnessed and may experience. As disease and decay take their toll, the body begins its inexorable decline until it can no longer accommodate your spirit. It represents a spectrum of hope for those who have trusted Jesus, and a spectrum of tragedy for those who haven’t. In either case, it is ended by the unknowable will of God.

Secularists would remove God from the equation, suggesting that it is simply letting nature run its course. In doing so, they allow themselves the liberty to intervene in nature’s progress so as to exercise their will in lieu of that of a higher authority. This changes each of these spectra to a spectrum of horror. The magnitude of the horror swells or ebbs at the time chosen for intervention. Intervening on the day after conception is a far lesser magnitude of evil than intervening on the day of delivery. Intervening on the day after diagnosis of a terminal illness is a far greater magnitude of evil than intervening on the day life is slipping away. You see, the horror grows when intervention comes closer to the fullness of life. Horror takes the place of tragedy when evil acts presage the abortion of life. And with the horror comes guilt.

Remember always that no depravity that man commits surprises God, though I am certain that our choices often grieve His heart. Remember that at the time of the crucifixion of Christ there was only one person alive on the earth. Everyone else was dead in sin and trespasses. The depravity of man in killing this one man, Jesus, overshadows everything we had done before or since. But in killing this one man, we washed ourselves in His innocent blood and bought our deliverance from all our depravities.

We live in a fallen world, though in a world imbued with hope for a coming and brighter day. I cling to that hope, and so it is that I pray that we would zealously guard the spectrum of blessing that is fulfilled in new life; despite the possibility of tragedy that it holds. It is why I also cling to the spectrum of hope as old life ebbs. I would not allow my will to supersede the will of God and I condemn the hubris of anyone else that would so presume. For those who would create or defend a spectrum of horror, I pray that their consciences would be pricked to limit their interventions to when the magnitude of the impact of their evil act is least. I take solace in knowing that nothing can thwart the will of God and that He will judge evil.

Curating the Gallery

Even as we move forward in our lives, it is important that we look back occasionally as the past and our understanding of it establishes our trajectory moving forward. In my own life, I realize that I’ve fashioned my own private gallery wherein I’ve framed the events and vignettes in a manner most conducive to justifying where I am and why I am the man I am in the moment.

Shakespeare wrote that “the evils that men do live after them; the good is oft interred with their bones”. So it has been with my gallery. I had an entire wing dedicated to the wrongs that I’d suffered, the injustices, the slights. I could stand in front of each and marvel at the evil displayed with a subconscious sense of pride for how well I had fashioned the frame in which I displayed them.

Enter the Holy Spirit. No one else enters my gallery but I, but the Holy Spirit insisted that I share this part of my heart with Him as well. I confess to being ashamed at the revelation of my handiwork, as it did not comport in any real sense with the handiwork He is working in me. So, it has been that I’ve spent no small amount of time curating my gallery – breaking frames, relegating some works to the ash heap and re-framing others in the context of gratitude.

The Bible tells us that all things work together for good to them that love God and are called according to His purpose1. For me, being called according to His purpose is not to presume that I am another Moses or a prophet, but rather just another sheep responding to the Shepherd’s call. In understanding that, I understand that I am precisely where God wants me. In understanding that, too, I understand that everything in my life has worked to deliver me to this moment and I am grateful. It doesn’t matter the intentions of others, what matters is God’s purpose. Even when I had strayed, God was there. Jesus suffered immeasurable pain and suffering because of my repeated stumbles and misdeeds. If He doesn’t hold a grudge, how can I?

And so it is that I add one more shingle to my resume. I am also a curator. As I walk the halls of my gallery, I watch for those pieces shaped and purposed by the Artist of all creation, while I keep an eye out for those fashioned by the con artist that had previously dominated the collection. The collection is thinning, but the theme is becoming ever more explicit – God is great in His mercy and His grace.

1 Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.