Comment Gift Quotes

A friend had commented once that Neal had a gift for making someone want to punch him just for saying hello.

I often feel caught in a dilemma: on the one hand I wish to be more natural with you and yet, on the other hand, because I feel that you’re easily wounded and that you give my comments inordinate power, I feel I must consider my wording very, very carefully.

Commentators who today talk of 'The Dark Ages' when faith instead of reason was said to ruthlessly rule, have for their animadversions only the excuse of perfect ignorance. Both Aquinas' intellectual gifts and his religious nature were of a kind that is no longer commonly seen in the Western world.

Christmas Amnesty. You can fall out of contact with a friend, fail to return calls, ignore e-mails, avoid eye contact at the Thrifty-Mart, forget birthdays, anniversaries, and reunions, and if you show up at their house during the holidays (with a gift) they are socially bound to forgive you—act like nothing happened. Decorum dictates that the friendship move forward from that point, without guilt or recrimination. If you started a chess game ten years ago in October, you need only remember whose move it is—or why you sold the chessboard and bought an Xbox in the interim. (Look, Christmas Amnesty is a wonderful thing, but it’s not a dimensional shift. The laws of time and space continue to apply, even if you have been avoiding your friends. But don’t try using the expansion of the universe an as excuse—like you kept meaning to stop by, but their house kept getting farther away. That crap won’t wash. Just say, “Sorry I haven’t called. Merry Christmas” Then show the present. Christmas Amnesty protocol dictates that your friend say, “That’s okay,” and let you in without further comment. This is the way it has always been done.)

Erik Erikson has commented: Potentially creative men like (Bernard) Shaw build the personal fundament of their work during a self-decreed moratorium, during which they often starve themselves, socially, erotically, and, at last but not least, nutritionally, in order to let the grosser weeds die out, and make way for the growth of their inner garden.

Russell commented that the development of such gifted individuals (referring to polymaths) required a childhood period in which there was little or no pressure for conformity, a time in which the child could develop and pursue his or her own interests no matter how unusual or bizarre.

Everyone dies. The choice and the challenge are in how we chose to live. And the more meaning you find in your life, the more reason you have to live.

Covert manipulators are quite gifted at provocation. As they learn more about you, they are investigating your weak spots and catering their comments towards what they know will hurt you the most. Knowing you’re triggered by their comments gives them a sadistic sense of satisfaction that alleviates their secret sense of inferiority and strokes their delusions of grandeur, control and aptitude. Having control over your emotions also gives them the power to effectively manipulate you and convince you that you don’t deserve any better.

Our understanding of who we are, where we came from, how the world works, and what matters in life depends on partaking of the vast and ever-expanding store of knowledge. Though unlettered hunters, herders, and peasants are fully human, anthropologists often comment on their orientation to the present, the local, the physical. To be aware of one's country and its history, of the diversity of customs and beliefs across the globe and through the ages, of the blunders and triumphs of past civilizations, of the microcosms of cells and atoms and the macrocosms of planets and galaxies, of the ethereal reality of number and logic and pattern—such awareness truly lifts us to a higher plane of consciousness. It is a gift of belonging to a brainy species with a long history.

. . . you know who Polworth is?" "Your best mate," said Robin. "He's my oldest mate," Strike corrected her. "My best mate . . . " For a split second he wondered whether he was going to say it, but the whisky had lifted the guard he usually kept upon himself: why not say it, why not let go? " . . . is you." Robin was so amazed, she couldn't speak. Never, in four years, had Strike come close to telling her what she was to him. Fondness had had to be deduced from offhand comments, small kindnesses, awkward silences or gestures forced from him under stress. She'd only once before felt as she did now, and the unexpected gift that had engendered the feeling had been a sapphire and diamond ring, which she'd left behind when she walked out on the man who'd given it to her. She wanted to make some kind of return, but for a moment or two, her throat felt too constricted. "I . . . well, the feeling's mutual," she said, trying not to sound too happy.

There are times when you've personally known things to misfire--the sentence that fell badly, the dull gift, slapdash comment, hobbled punch line, tight-fisted tip--trying to be too stupid, trying to be too clever, too silly, too carefree, too caring, too free. You can think back to those long and hollow pauses when you realised that you'd misjudged a mood, weren't paying attention, had taken the wrong risk.

I’m Tekchin,” he said, exchanging an empty gourd for a full one. “The handsomest and most skilled of the Galantians.” This brought an immediate and loud moan from the other Fhrey. “That scar suggests otherwise,” Moya replied. “On both counts.” More laughter, louder this time. “Pretty and smart,” Tekchin said to the others in Fhrey. Persephone was thankful Moya couldn’t understand their language. A comment like that would have been tantamount to putting torch to tinder. “This?” Tekchin returned to Rhunic and touched his cheek. “Naw, this is a beauty mark given to me by a special friend. He’s dead now, of course, but he was a gifted opponent and aiming for my throat. I can assure you it proves my skill. So what’s your name, or shall I call you Doe-Eyes?” “Doe-Eyes? Seriously?” Moya rolled her same-said eyes in disbelief. “I would have expected something less sappy from a god. My name is Moya. Call me anything else and you’ll receive a second beauty mark.” Tekchin struggled but failed to resist smiling. Behind him, the rest of the Fhrey laughed once more. “God, eh?” Tekchin said. “Don’t get too excited. Apparently it’s only a rumor.” “I like you, Moya.” “Most people do,” she replied.

We have also seen that they give clients feedback about the impact they are having on the therapist—and others. It can be a gift when therapists use process comments to provide interpersonal feedback, and therapists can find constructive, noncritical ways to help clients see themselves from others’ eyes and learn about the impact they are having on others (such as regularly making others feel bored, intimidated, impatient, overwhelmed, confused, and so forth).

...it is when you are down that you have your greatest opportunity to help others i a lasting way

I’ve heard many times that people would make a comment, ‘This looks like a bomb,’ and still open it. That’s one for the psychologists to answer.

If I am to understand that you are enquiring whether I am of Jewish origin, I can only reply that I regret that I appear to have no ancestors of that gifted people. My great-great-grandfather came to England in the eighteenth century from Germany: the main part of my descent is therefore purely English, and I am an English subject—which should be sufficient. I have been accustomed, nonetheless, to regard my German name with pride, and continued to do so throughout the period of the late regrettable war, in which I served in the English army. I cannot, however, forbear to comment that if impertinent and irrelevant inquiries of this sort are to become the rule in matters of literature, then the time is not far distant when a German name will no longer be a source of pride.

Believe me, I know. I used to think that it only happened once, your single opportunity to make good. But now I think - no, know - that love is abundant. That's Glorianna's gift to us. That we love, over and over, many times and many people. You're one of them. I love you, Ash." He crossed to me, tentative, and lifted his hands to cup my naked breasts. "Your tits are so much larger,"he commented.

Twinkle lights are the perfect metaphor for joy. Joy is not a constant. It comes to us in moments—often ordinary moments. Sometimes we miss out on the bursts of joy because we’re too busy chasing down extraordinary moments. Other times we’re so afraid of the dark that we don’t dare let ourselves enjoy the light. A joyful life is not a floodlight of joy. That would eventually become unbearable. I believe a joyful life is made up of joyful moments gracefully strung together by trust, gratitude, inspiration, and faith. For those of you who follow my blog, you’ll recognize this as the mantra for my gratitude posts on Fridays that I call TGIF. I turned this quote into a small badge, and part of my gratitude practice is a weekly post about what I’m Trusting, what I’m Grateful for, what Inspires me, and how I’m practicing my Faith. It’s incredibly powerful to read everyone’s comments. Joy

It’s not just a passing comment or a racist quip in the hallway. My whole house is wallpapered with hate. My dinner is made with hate. My Christmas gifts are bought with hate. I started doing my own wash when I was ten just so my clothes can feel clean when everything else feels dirty.

O you poor devils in the great cities of world politics, you gifted young men tormented by ambition who consider it your duty to pass some comment on everything that happens- and there is always something happening! Who when they raise the dust in this way think they are the chariot of history! Who, because they are always on the alert, always on the lookout for the moment when they can put their word in, lose all genuine productivity! However much they may desire to do great work, the profound speechlessness of pregnancy never comes to them! The event of the day drives them before it like chaff, while they think they are driving the event - poor devils!

But the compliments didn’t feel like compliments when my body language communicated I didn’t want to be looked at, didn’t want to be spoken to. They didn’t feel like gifts when they were thrown at me or whispered so only I could hear. Every comment translated into, I like what I see and I want it. But I don’t want it, I don’t want it, I thought.

McKelway could do it all—comment, stories, profiles. He was especially skilled as a rewriter of other people’s troubled stuff, a gift that helped save The New Yorker career of the great A.J. Liebling. But he was most famous for his pieces about odd crimes and strange criminals: imposters, rascals, embezzlers, con men, counterfeiters, and the like.

On Thanksgiving Day, 2011, my pastor Peter Jonker preached a marvelous sermon on Psalm 65 with an introduction from the life of Seth MacFarlane, who had been on NPR’s Fresh Air program with Terry Gross. MacFarlane is a cartoonist and comedian. He’s the creator of the animated comedy show “The Family Guy,” which my pastor called “arguably the most cynical show on television.” Terry Gross asked MacFarlane about 9/11. It seems that on that day of national tragedy MacFarlane had been booked on American Airlines Flight 11, Boston to LA, but he had arrived late at Logan airport and missed it. As we know, hijackers flew Flight 11 into the North Tower of the World Trade Center. My preacher said, “MacFarlane should have been on that plane. He should have been dead at 29 years of age. But somehow, at the end of that terrible day, he found himself healthy and alive, still able to turn his face toward the sun.” Terry Gross asked the inevitable question: “After that narrow escape, do you think of the rest of your life as a gift?” “No,” said MacFarlane. “That experience didn’t change me at all. It made no difference in the way I live my life. It made no difference in the way I look at things. It was just a coincidence.” And my preacher commented that MacFarlane had created “a missile defense system” against the threat of incoming gratitude — which might have lodged in his soul and changed him forever. MacFarlane, “the Grinch who stole gratitude,” perfectly set up what Peter Jonker had to say to us about how it is right and proper for us to give thanks to God at all times and in all places, and especially when our life has been spared.

He should rest his mind and body as much as possible to ensure a complete recovery." She wrinkled her nose playfully at Bazzle, who was curled up on the other side of the bed with a ball of red fluff cuddled against his chest. "That means we mustn't let the puppy disturb Mr. Severin's sleep." The puppy had been a gift from Winterborne and Helen, delivered just that morning. They had received word of a new litter from a friend who bred toy poodle dogs, and at their request had sent the pick of the litter when he was ready to be weaned. Bazzle was enchanted with the little creature, whose presence had already helped him to stop fretting over the fright he'd received. "There's a dust wad on the bed," had been Tom's comment upon first seeing the puppy. "It has legs." Now the toy poodle stretched and yawned, and toddled up along Tom's side, staring at him with bright amber eyes.

Some men would be offended when I didn’t respond, one man saying, I’m just trying to start your day right. But the compliments didn’t feel like compliments when my body language communicated I didn’t want to be looked at, didn’t want to be spoken to. They didn’t feel like gifts when they were thrown at me or whispered so only I could hear. Every comment translated into, I like what I see and I want it. But I don’t want it, I don’t want it, I thought.

As a minister of the Lord in whatever way the Lord decides to use you and with the gifts he gives you for the work, there is the tendency to start idolizing the work itself or the gifts that you forget it is the father who gave it to you. Who picked you up and dusted you from nothing and adorned you. You forget and make the work a god before him. Exodus 20:3 "You shall have no other gods before me". ----- This can be very subtle especially for social media ministry. You begin to love your social image over the word of God. You begin to dampen and tweak the word of God to appeal to a wider audience. You're suddenly no longer about the raw truth of the gospel. As the followers and likes increase you begin to get more and more addicted to the fruit of the works and the response to YOUR messages and posts. If a post doesn't do too well and get many likes and comments you are not happy. It hurts you deeply. That is how you know It has become about you. ------ If this is you and this message has touched your heart, if this post is like a mirror to your face, go back to God and ask for forgiveness. Ask God to forgive you for elevating yourself and your work as a god before him and return back to when it was just about loving him and preaching the good news. You probably may have noticed you lost the fire of inspiration you used to have at the beginning. This is why.

Though unlettered hunters, herders, and peasants are fully human, anthropologists often comment on their orientation to the present, the local, the physical.2 To be aware of one’s country and its history, of the diversity of customs and beliefs across the globe and through the ages, of the blunders and triumphs of past civilizations, of the microcosms of cells and atoms and the macrocosms of planets and galaxies, of the ethereal reality of number and logic and pattern—such awareness truly lifts us to a higher plane of consciousness. It is a gift of belonging to a brainy species with a long history.

Pay attention to everything the dying person says. You might want to keep pens and a spiral notebook beside the bed so that anyone can jot down notes about gestures, conversations, or anything out of the ordinary said by the dying person. Talk with one another about these comments and gestures. • Remember that there may be important messages in any communication, however vague or garbled. Not every statement made by a dying person has significance, but heed them all so as not to miss the ones that do. • Watch for key signs: a glassy-eyed look; the appearance of staring through you; distractedness or secretiveness; seemingly inappropriate smiles or gestures, such as pointing, reaching toward someone or something unseen, or waving when no one is there; efforts to pick at the covers or get out of bed for no apparent reason; agitation or distress at your inability to comprehend something the dying person has tried to say. • Respond to anything you don’t understand with gentle inquiries. “Can you tell me what’s happening?” is sometimes a helpful way to initiate this kind of conversation. You might also try saying, “You seem different today. Can you tell me why?” • Pose questions in open-ended, encouraging terms. For example, if a dying person whose mother is long dead says, “My mother’s waiting for me,” turn that comment into a question: “Mother’s waiting for you?” or “I’m so glad she’s close to you. Can you tell me about it?” • Accept and validate what the dying person tells you. If he says, “I see a beautiful place!” say, “That’s wonderful! Can you tell me more about it?” or “I’m so pleased. I can see that it makes you happy,” or “I’m so glad you’re telling me this. I really want to understand what’s happening to you. Can you tell me more?” • Don’t argue or challenge. By saying something like “You couldn’t possibly have seen Mother, she’s been dead for ten years,” you could increase the dying person’s frustration and isolation, and run the risk of putting an end to further attempts at communicating. • Remember that a dying person may employ images from life experiences like work or hobbies. A pilot may talk about getting ready to go for a flight; carry the metaphor forward: “Do you know when it leaves?” or “Is there anyone on the plane you know?” or “Is there anything I can do to help you get ready for takeoff?” • Be honest about having trouble understanding. One way is to say, “I think you’re trying to tell me something important and I’m trying very hard, but I’m just not getting it. I’ll keep on trying. Please don’t give up on me.” • Don’t push. Let the dying control the breadth and depth of the conversation—they may not be able to put their experiences into words; insisting on more talk may frustrate or overwhelm them. • Avoid instilling a sense of failure in the dying person. If the information is garbled or the delivery impossibly vague, show that you appreciate the effort by saying, “I can see that this is hard for you; I appreciate your trying to share it with me,” or “I can see you’re getting tired/angry/frustrated. Would it be easier if we talked about this later?” or “Don’t worry. We’ll keep trying and maybe it will come.” • If you don’t know what to say, don’t say anything. Sometimes the best response is simply to touch the dying person’s hand, or smile and stroke his or her forehead. Touching gives the very important message “I’m with you.” Or you could say, “That’s interesting, let me think about it.” • Remember that sometimes the one dying picks an unlikely confidant. Dying people often try to communicate important information to someone who makes them feel safe—who won’t get upset or be taken aback by such confidences. If you’re an outsider chosen for this role, share the information as gently and completely as possible with the appropriate family members or friends. They may be more familiar with innuendos in a message because they know the person well.

Entering the office, Evie found Sebastian and Cam on opposite sides of the desk. They both mulled over account ledgers, scratching out some entries with freshly inked pens, and making notations beside the long columns. Both men looked up as she crossed the threshold. Evie met Sebastian’s gaze only briefly; she found it hard to maintain her composure around him after the intimacy of the previous night. He paused in mid-sentence as he stared at her, seeming to forget what he had been saying to Cam. It seemed that neither of them was yet comfortable with feelings that were still too new and powerful. Murmuring good morning to them both, she bid them to remain seated, and she went to stand beside Sebastian’s chair. “Have you breakfasted yet, my lord?” she asked. Sebastian shook his head, a smile glinting in his eyes. “Not yet.” “I’ll go to the kitchen and see what is to be had.” “Stay a moment,” he urged. “We’re almost finished.” As the two men discussed a few last points of business, which pertained to a potential investment in a proposed shopping bazaar to be constructed on St. James Street, Sebastian picked up Evie’s hand, which was resting on the desk. Absently he drew the backs of her fingers against the edge of his jaw and his ear while contemplating the written proposal on the desk before him. Although Sebastian was not aware of what the casual familiarity of the gesture revealed, Evie felt her color rise as she met Cam’s gaze over her husband’s downbent head. The boy sent her a glance of mock reproof, like that of a nursemaid who had caught two children playing a kissing game, and he grinned as her blush heightened further. Oblivious to the byplay, Sebastian handed the proposal to Cam, who sobered instantly. “I don’t like the looks of this,” Sebastian commented. “It’s doubtful there will be enough business in the area to sustain an entire bazaar, especially at those rents. I suspect within a year it will turn into a white elephant.” “White elephant?” Evie asked. A new voice came from the doorway, belonging to Lord Westcliff. “A white elephant is a rare animal,” the earl replied, smiling, “that is not only expensive but difficult to maintain. Historically, when an ancient king wished to ruin someone he would gift him with a white elephant.” Stepping into the office, Westcliff bowed over Evie’s hand and spoke to Sebastian. “Your assessment of the proposed bazaar is correct, in my opinion. I was approached with the same investment opportunity not long ago, and I rejected it on the same grounds.” “No doubt we’ll both be proven wrong,” Sebastian said wryly. “One should never try to predict anything regarding women and their shopping.

If you talk to these extraordinary people, you find that they all understand this at one level or another. They may be unfamiliar with the concept of cognitive adaptability, but they seldom buy into the idea that they have reached the peak of their fields because they were the lucky winners of some genetic lottery. They know what is required to develop the extraordinary skills that they possess because they have experienced it firsthand. One of my favorite testimonies on this topic came from Ray Allen, a ten-time All-Star in the National Basketball Association and the greatest three-point shooter in the history of that league. Some years back, ESPN columnist Jackie MacMullan wrote an article about Allen as he was approaching his record for most three-point shots made. In talking with Allen for that story, MacMullan mentioned that another basketball commentator had said that Allen was born with a shooting touch—in other words, an innate gift for three-pointers. Allen did not agree. “I’ve argued this with a lot of people in my life,” he told MacMullan. “When people say God blessed me with a beautiful jump shot, it really pisses me off. I tell those people, ‘Don’t undermine the work I’ve put in every day.’ Not some days. Every day. Ask anyone who has been on a team with me who shoots the most. Go back to Seattle and Milwaukee, and ask them. The answer is me.” And, indeed, as MacMullan noted, if you talk to Allen’s high school basketball coach you will find that Allen’s jump shot was not noticeably better than his teammates’ jump shots back then; in fact, it was poor. But Allen took control, and over time, with hard work and dedication, he transformed his jump shot into one so graceful and natural that people assumed he was born with it. He took advantage of his gift—his real gift.   ABOUT

55 The expansion of cultures can also be tracked by following the waft of alcohol. Commenting on the settling of the American frontier, Mark Twain famously characterized whiskey as the “earliest pioneer of civilization,” ahead of the railway, newspaper, and missionary.56 By far the most technologically advanced and valuable artifacts found in early European settlements in the New World were copper stills, imported at great cost and worth more than their weight in gold.57 As the writer Michael Pollan has argued, Johnny Appleseed, whom American mythology now portrays as intent on spreading the gift of wholesome, vitamin-filled apples to hungry settlers, was in fact “the American Dionysus,” bringing badly needed alcohol to the frontier. Johnny’s apples, so desperately sought out by American homesteaders, were not meant to be eaten at the table, but rather used to make cider and “applejack” liquor.58

I wonder why it is that so many light-haired women smell of amber..." "You mean amber perfume?" Daisy asked. "No-their skin itself. Amber, and sometimes honey..." "What on earth do you mean? the younger girl asked with a bemused laugh. "People don't smell like anything, except when they need to wash." The pair regarded each other with what appeared to be mutual surprise. "Yes, they do," Lillian said. "Everyone has a smell... don't say you've never noticed? The way some people's skin is like bitter almond, or violet, while others..." "Others have a scent like plum, or palm sap, or fish hay," Nettle commented. Lillian glanced at him with a satisfied smile. "Yes, exactly!" Nettle removed his spectacles and polished them with care, while his mind swarmed with questions. Was it possible that this girl could actually detect a person's intrinsic scent? He himself could- but it was a rare gift, and not one that he had ever known a woman to have.

I began avoiding certain streets. If I was spoken to going one way, I’d come back a different way, and found myself winding around many blocks. I trained myself to tuck my head down, avoiding eye contact, feigning invisibility. Instead of strolling looking up at the trees, I walked with unwavering conviction, or stared down at my feet. Once a man started walking next to me and said, Can I walk with you? I began walking faster. Let me walk with you. As his feet kept pace with mine, I just shook my head, my hands gripping the handles of my backpack, waiting for him to fall back. Some men would be offended when I didn’t respond, one man saying, I’m just trying to start your day right. But the compliments didn’t feel like compliments when my body language communicated I didn’t want to be looked at, didn’t want to be spoken to. They didn’t feel like gifts when they were thrown at me or whispered so only I could hear. Every comment translated into, I like what I see and I want it. But I don’t want it, I don’t want it, I thought.

Thank you for your letter. . . . . I regret that I am not clear as to what you intend by arisch. I am not of Aryan extraction: that is Indo-iranian; as far as I am aware none of my ancestors spoke Flindustani, Persian, Gypsy, or any related dialects. But if I am to understand that you are enquiring whether I am of Jewish origin, I can only reply that I regret that I appear to have no ancestors of that gifted people. My great-great-grandfather came to England in the eighteenth century from Germany: the main part of my descent is therefore purely English, and I am an English subject – which should be sufficient. I have been accustomed, nonetheless, to regard my German name with pride, and continued to do so throughout the period of the late regrettable war, in which I served in the English army. I cannot, however, forbear to comment that if impertinent and irrelevant inquiries of this sort are to become the rule in matters of literature, then the time is not far distant when a German name will no longer be a source of pride.

What is new about the new commandment? Since this question ultimately concerns the “newness” of the New Testament, that is to say, the “essence of Christianity”, it is important to be very attentive. It has been argued that the new element—moving beyond the earlier commandment to love one’s neighbor—is revealed in the saying “love as I have loved you”, in other words, loving to the point of readiness to lay down one’s life for the other. If this were the specific and exclusive content of the “new commandment”, then Christianity could after all be defined as a form of extreme moral effort. This is how many commentators explain the Sermon on the Mount: in contrast to the old way of the Ten Commandments—the way of the average man, one might say—Christianity, through the Sermon on the Mount, opens up the high way that is radical in its demands, revealing a new level of humanity to which men can aspire. And yet who could possibly claim to have risen above the “average” way of the Ten Commandments, to have left them behind as self-evident, so to speak, and now to walk along the exalted paths of the “new law”? No, the newness of the new commandment cannot consist in the highest moral attainment. Here, too, the essential point is not the call to supreme achievement, but the new foundation of being that is given to us. The newness can come only from the gift of being-with and being-in Christ. Saint

When the time comes, & I hope it comes soon, to bury this era of moral rot & the defiling of our communal, social, & democratic norms, the perfect epitaph for the gravestone of this age of unreason should be Iowa Senator Chuck Grassley's already infamous quote: "I think not having the estate tax recognizes the people that are investing... as opposed to those that are just spending every darn penny they have, whether it’s on booze or women or movies.” Grassley's vision of America, quite frankly, is one I do not recognize. I thought the heart of this great nation was not limited to the ranks of the plutocrats who are whisked through life in chauffeured cars & private jets, whose often inherited riches are passed along to children, many of whom no sacrifice or service is asked. I do not begrudge wealth, but it must come with a humility that money never is completely free of luck. And more importantly, wealth can never be a measure of worth. I have seen the waitress working the overnight shift at a diner to give her children a better life, & yes maybe even take them to a movie once in awhile - and in her, I see America. I have seen the public school teachers spending extra time with students who need help & who get no extra pay for their efforts, & in them I see America. I have seen parents sitting around kitchen tables with stacks of pressing bills & wondering if they can afford a Christmas gift for their children, & in them I see America. I have seen the young diplomat in a distant foreign capital & the young soldier in a battlefield foxhole, & in them I see America. I have seen the brilliant graduates of the best law schools who forgo the riches of a corporate firm for the often thankless slog of a district attorney or public defender's office, & in them I see America. I have seen the librarian reshelving books, the firefighter, police officer, & paramedic in service in trying times, the social worker helping the elderly & infirm, the youth sports coaches, the PTA presidents, & in them I see America. I have seen the immigrants working a cash register at a gas station or trimming hedges in the frost of an early fall morning, or driving a cab through rush hour traffic to make better lives for their families, & in them I see America. I have seen the science students unlocking the mysteries of life late at night in university laboratories for little or no pay, & in them I see America. I have seen the families struggling with a cancer diagnosis, or dementia in a parent or spouse. Amid the struggles of mortality & dignity, in them I see America. These, & so many other Americans, have every bit as much claim to a government working for them as the lobbyists & moneyed classes. And yet, the power brokers in Washington today seem deaf to these voices. It is a national disgrace of historic proportions. And finally, what is so wrong about those who must worry about the cost of a drink with friends, or a date, or a little entertainment, to rephrase Senator Grassley's demeaning phrasings? Those who can't afford not to worry about food, shelter, healthcare, education for their children, & all the other costs of modern life, surely they too deserve to be able to spend some of their “darn pennies” on the simple joys of life. Never mind that almost every reputable economist has called this tax bill a sham of handouts for the rich at the expense of the vast majority of Americans & the future economic health of this nation. Never mind that it is filled with loopholes written by lobbyists. Never mind that the wealthiest already speak with the loudest voices in Washington, & always have. Grassley’s comments open a window to the soul of the current national Republican Party & it it is not pretty. This is not a view of America that I think President Ronald Reagan let alone President Dwight Eisenhower or Teddy Roosevelt would have recognized. This is unadulterated cynicism & a version of top-down class warfare run amok. ~Facebook 12/4/17

While the indecisive customer hovered over an array of perfumes that Nettle had brought out for her, the American girls browsed among the shelves of perfumes, colognes, pomades, waxes, creams, soaps, and other items intended for beauty care. There were bath oils in stoppered crystal bottles, , and tins of herbal unguents, and tiny boxes of violet pastilles to freshen the breath. Lower shelves held treasure troves of scented candles and inks, sachets filled with clove-saturated smelling salts, potpourri bowls, and jars of pastes and balms. Nettle noticed, however, that while the younger girl, Daisy, viewed the assortment with only mild interest, the older one, Lillian, had stopped before a row of oils and extracts that contained pure scent. Rose, frangipani, jasmine, bergamot, and so forth. Lifting the amber glass bottles, she opened them carefully and inhaled with visible appreciation. Eventually the blond woman made her choice, purchased a flacon of perfume, and left the shop, a small bell ringing cheerfully as the door closed. Lillian, who had turned to glance at the departing woman, murmured thoughtfully, "I wonder why it is that so many light-haired women smell of amber..." "You mean amber perfume?" Daisy asked. "No- their skin itself. Amber, and sometimes honey..." "What on earth do you mean?" the younger girl asked with a bemused laugh. "People don't smell like anything, except when they need to wash." The pair regarded each other with what appeared to be mutual surprise. "Yes, they do," Lillian said. "Everyone has a smell... don't say you've never noticed? The way some people's skin is like bitter almond, or violet, while others..." "Others have a scent like plum, or palm sap, or fresh hay," Nettle commented. Lillian glanced at him with a satisfied smile. "Yes, exactly!" Nettle removed his spectacles and polished them with care, while his mind swarmed with questions. Could it be? Was it possible that this girl could actually detect a person's intrinsic scent? He himself could- but it was a rare gift, and not one that he had ever known a woman to have.

If someone is not treating you with love and respect, it is a gift if they walk away from you. If that person doesn’t walk away, you will surely endure many years of suffering with him or her. Walking away may hurt for a while, but your heart will eventually heal. Then you can choose what you really want. You will find that you don’t need to trust others as much as you need to trust yourself to make the right choices. When you make it a strong habit not to take anything personally, you avoid many upsets in your life. Your anger, jealousy, and envy will disappear, and even your sadness will simply disappear if you don’t take things personally. If you can make this second agreement a habit, you will find that nothing can put you back into hell. There is a huge amount of freedom that comes to you when you take nothing personally. You become immune to black magicians, and no spell can affect you regardless of how strong it may be. The whole world can gossip about you, and if you don’t take it personally you are immune. Someone can intentionally send emotional poison, and if you don’t take it personally, you will not eat it. When you don’t take the emotional poison, it becomes even worse in the sender, but not in you. You can see how important this agreement is. Taking nothing personally helps you to break many habits and routines that trap you in the dream of hell and cause needless suffering. Just by practicing this second agreement you begin to break dozens of teeny, tiny agreements that cause you to suffer. And if you practice the first two agreements, you will break seventy-five percent of the teeny, tiny agreements that keep you trapped in hell. Write this agreement on paper, and put it on your refrigerator to remind you all the time: Don’t take anything personally. As you make a habit of not taking anything personally, you won’t need to place your trust in what others do or say. You will only need to trust yourself to make responsible choices. You are never responsible for the actions of others; you are only responsible for you. When you truly understand this, and refuse to take things personally, you can hardly be hurt by the careless comments or actions of others. If you keep this agreement, you can travel around the world with your heart completely open and no one can hurt you.

I can only imagine the sort of havoc Oliver must have wreaked as a boy.” Oliver handed Minerva in, then climbed in to sit beside her. “We weren’t that bad.” “Don’t listen to him,” Minerva exclaimed, her eyes twinkling. “One dull evening, he and his friends went to a ball dressed in the livery of the hired footmen. Then they proceeded to drink up the liquor, flirt and wink at the elderly ladies until they were all blushing, and make loud criticisms of the entertainment. After the lady of the house caught on to their scheme and rounded up some stout young men to throw them out, they stole a small stone cupid she had in her garden and sent her a ransom note for it.” “How the devil do you know that?” Oliver asked. “You were, what, eleven?” “Twelve,” Minerva said. “And it was all Gran’s servants could talk about. Made quite a stir in society, as I recall. What was the ransom? A kiss for each of you from the lady’s daughter?” A faint smile touched Oliver’s lips. “And she never did pay it. Apparently her suitors took issue with it. Not to mention her parents.” “Good heavens,” Maria said. “Come to think of it,” Oliver mused aloud, “I believe Kirkwood still has that cupid somewhere. I should ask him.” “You’re as bad as Freddy and my cousins,” Maria chided. “They put soap on all the windows of the mayor’s carriage on the very day he was supposed to lead a procession through Dartmouth. You should have seen him blustering when he discovered it.” “Was he a pompous idiot?” Oliver asked. “A lecher, actually. He tried to force a kiss on my aunt. And him a married man, too!” “Then I hope they did more than soap his windows,” Oliver drawled. The comment caught Maria by surprise. “And you, of course, have never kissed a married woman?” “Not if they didn’t ask to be kissed,” he said, a strange tension in his voice. “But we weren’t speaking of me, we were speaking of Dartmouth’s dastardly mayor. Did soaping his windows teach him a lesson?” “No, but the gift they left for him in the coach did the trick. They got it from the town’s largest cow.” Oliver and Minerva both laughed. Mrs. Plumtree did not. She was as silent as death beside Maria, clearly scandalized by the entire conversation. “Why do boys always feel an urgent need to create a mess others are forced to clean up?” Minerva asked. “Because they know how it irritates us,” Maria said.

He was but three-and-twenty, and had only just learned what it is to love—­to love with that adoration which a young man gives to a woman whom he feels to be greater and better than himself. Love of this sort is hardly distinguishable from religious feeling. What deep and worthy love is so, whether of woman or child, or art or music. Our caresses, our tender words, our still rapture under the influence of autumn sunsets, or pillared vistas, or calm majestic statues, or Beethoven symphonies all bring with them the consciousness that they are mere waves and ripples in an unfathomable ocean of love and beauty; our emotion in its keenest moment passes from expression into silence, our love at its highest flood rushes beyond its object and loses itself in the sense of divine mystery. And this blessed gift of venerating love has been given to too many humble craftsmen since the world began for us to feel any surprise that it should have existed in the soul of a Methodist carpenter half a century ago, while there was yet a lingering after-glow from the time when Wesley and his fellow-labourer fed on the hips and haws of the Cornwall hedges, after exhausting limbs and lungs in carrying a divine message to the poor. That afterglow has long faded away; and the picture we are apt to make of Methodism in our imagination is not an amphitheatre of green hills, or the deep shade of broad-leaved sycamores, where a crowd of rough men and weary-hearted women drank in a faith which was a rudimentary culture, which linked their thoughts with the past, lifted their imagination above the sordid details of their own narrow lives, and suffused their souls with the sense of a pitying, loving, infinite Presence, sweet as summer to the houseless needy. It is too possible that to some of my readers Methodism may mean nothing more than low-pitched gables up dingy streets, sleek grocers, sponging preachers, and hypocritical jargon—­elements which are regarded as an exhaustive analysis of Methodism in many fashionable quarters. That would be a pity; for I cannot pretend that Seth and Dinah were anything else than Methodists—­not indeed of that modern type which reads quarterly reviews and attends in chapels with pillared porticoes, but of a very old-fashioned kind. They believed in present miracles, in instantaneous conversions, in revelations by dreams and visions; they drew lots, and sought for Divine guidance by opening the Bible at hazard; having a literal way of interpreting the Scriptures, which is not at all sanctioned by approved commentators; and it is impossible for me to represent their diction as correct, or their instruction as liberal. Still—­if I have read religious history aright—­faith, hope, and charity have not always been found in a direct ratio with a sensibility to the three concords, and it is possible—­thank Heaven!—­to have very erroneous theories and very sublime feelings. The raw bacon which clumsy Molly spares from her own scanty store that she may carry it to her neighbour’s child to “stop the fits,” may be a piteously inefficacious remedy; but the generous stirring of neighbourly kindness that prompted the deed has a beneficent radiation that is not lost. Considering these things, we can hardly think Dinah and Seth beneath our sympathy, accustomed as we may be to weep over the loftier sorrows of heroines in satin boots and crinoline, and of heroes riding fiery horses, themselves ridden by still more fiery passions.

Notice that Jesus knows exactly who he is asking to lead his community: a sinner. As all Christian leaders have been, are, and will be, Peter is imperfect. And as all good Christian leaders are, Peter is well aware of his imperfections. The disciples too know who they are getting as their leader. They will not need—or be tempted—to elevate Peter into some semi-divine figure; they have seen him at his worst. Jesus forgives Peter because he loves him, because he knows that his friend needs forgiveness to be free, and because he knows that the leader of his church will need to forgive others many times. And Jesus forgives totally, going beyond what would be expected—going so far as to establish Peter as head of the church.11 It would have made more earthly sense for Jesus to appoint another, non-betraying apostle to head his church. Why give the one who denied him this important leadership role? Why elevate the manifestly sinful one over the rest? One reason may be to show the others what forgiveness is. In this way Jesus embodies the Father in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, who not only forgives the son, but also, to use a fishing metaphor, goes overboard. Jesus goes beyond forgiving and setting things right. A contemporary equivalent would be a tenured professor stealing money from a university, apologizing, being forgiven by the board of trustees, and then being hired as the school’s president. People would find this extraordinary—and it is. In response, Peter will ultimately offer his willingness to lay down his life for Christ. But on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, he can’t know the future. He can’t understand fully what he is agreeing to. Feed your sheep? Which sheep? The Twelve? The disciples? The whole world? This is often the case for us too. Even if we accept the call we can be confused about where God is leading us. When reporters used to ask the former Jesuit superior general Pedro Arrupe where the Jesuit Order was going, he would say, “I don’t know!” Father Arrupe was willing to follow, even if he didn’t know precisely what God had in mind. Peter says yes to the unknowable, because the question comes from Jesus. Both Christ’s forgiveness and Peter’s response show us love. God’s love is limitless, unconditional, radical. And when we have experienced that love, we can share it. The ability to forgive and to accept forgiveness is an absolute requirement of the Christian life. Conversely, the refusal to forgive leads ineluctably to spiritual death. You may know families in which vindictiveness acts like a cancer, slowly eating away at love. You may know people whose marriages have been destroyed by a refusal to forgive. One of my friends described a couple he knew as “two scorpions in a jar,” both eagerly waiting to sting the other with barbs and hateful comments. We see the communal version of this in countries torn by sectarian violence, where a climate of mutual recrimination and mistrust leads only to increasing levels of pain. The Breakfast by the Sea shows that Jesus lived the forgiveness he preached. Jesus knew that forgiveness is a life-giving force that reconciles, unites, and empowers. The Gospel by the Sea is a gospel of forgiveness, one of the central Christian virtues. It is the radical stance of Jesus, who, when faced with the one who denied him, forgave him and appointed him head of the church, and the man who, in agony on the Cross, forgave his executioners. Forgiveness is a gift to the one who forgives, because it frees from resentment; and to the one who needs forgiveness, because it frees from guilt. Forgiveness is the liberating force that allowed Peter to cast himself into the water at the sound of Jesus’s voice, and it is the energy that gave him a voice with which to testify to his belief in Christ.

Browsing among the shelves, Poppy paused to examine a jeweled silver figurine of a horse, its hooves extended in mid-gallop. "How lovely." "A gift from the Crown Prince Yizhu of China," the man behind her said. "A Celestial horse." Fascinated, Poppy ran a fingertip along the figure's back. "Now the prince has been crowned as the Emperor Xianfeng," she said. "A rather ironic ruling name, isn't it?" Coming to stand beside her, the stranger glanced at her alertly. "Why do you say that?" "Because it means 'universal prosperity.' And that is certainly not the case, considering the internal rebellions he is facing." "I'd say the challenges from Europe are an even greater danger to him, at present." "Yes," Poppy said ruefully, nudging the figurine back into place. "One wonders how long Chinese sovereignty can last against such an onslaught." Her companion was standing close enough that she could detect the scents of pressed linen and shaving soap. He stared at her intently. "I know very few women who are able to discuss Far East politics." She felt color rise in her cheeks. "My family has rather unusual conversations around the supper table. At least, they're unusual in that my sisters and I always take part. My companion says it's perfectly all right to do that at home, but she has advised me not to appear too learned when I'm out in society. It tends to drive away suitors." "You'll have to be careful, then" he said softly, smiling. "It would be a shame for some intelligent comment to slip out at the wrong moment.

I saw Aunt Sis simply as a mild-mannered, accommodating older lady, but she was giving us a gift we were still too young to recognize, filling us up with the past—ours, hers, our father’s and grandfather’s—without once needing to comment on it.

comment. TRUMP PROMISES “BIG, BEAUTIFUL” TAX CUTS FOR CHRISTMAS, read the Washington Examiner headline later that day. TRUMP: TAX CUT IS MY GIFT TO YOU and TRUMP SEES TAX PLAN AS CHRISTMAS GIFT added CNN and The Wall Street Journal. Expectations were set. The Speaker’s office never mentioned delaying the date again.

This is an egregious breach of journalistic ethics. It’s absolutely inappropriate, whether they consider themselves “journalists” or not. You don’t “act” the part of an independent, objective host and secretly rehearse your exchanges with a candidate. Ever. If neither gifts nor praise worked, Trump would use insults or threats. Commentators like Charles Krauthammer, Brit Hume, George Will, Jonah Goldberg, Dana Perino, Rich Lowry, Steve Hayes, Marc Thiessen, and Chris Stirewalt were derided as “dummies” or “losers” or “lightweights” or “failures” for offering their honest, albeit unflattering, analysis of Trump. Anyone who didn’t fall under the Trump spell was fair game. Plenty of straight news reporters were hit too. The Des Moines Register’s journalists were banned from Trump’s campaign events because the paper’s editorial board had harshly criticized him. The Washington Post was later banned for similar reasons. So were Univision, the Daily Beast, and others. The message was clear: cover Trump “nicely,” and good things happen. Hit him too hard, and suffer the consequences. He’d been laying the groundwork for that basic strategy for months before he launched his campaign.   In

The goal of a prayerful review of recent life experiences is not self-analysis. The point is not to peel back the layers of the onion and find some problem or meaning. Instead the goal is simply increased awareness of God in the events of life and the depths of my being. It is attending to the God who is present. In general, “what” questions (such as, What was I feeling? What disturbed me about that comment? What exactly made me anxious?) are better than “why” questions (Why did I feel threatened? Why did that bother me?). And avoid making demands of yourself or God. Just accept whatever comes from each experience, each day.

As sometimes happened following a visit to Kent, the city had a chill to it that went beyond a sense of the air outside. Though Maisie loved her flat in Pimlico, there was a warmth to her father's cottage, to being at Chelstone, that made her feel cocooned and safe. And she felt wanted. That flat was hers to do with as she wished, and to do exactly as she pleased within those walls, but sometimes she felt it still held within it the stark just-moved-in feeling that signaled the difference between a house and a home. Of course, it still was not fully furnished, and there were no ornaments displayed - a vase, perhaps, that a visitor might comment upon and the hostess would say, "Oh, that was a gift, let me tell you about it..." There were no stories attached to the flat - but how could there be, when she was always alone in her home. There were no family photographs, no small framed portraits on the mantelpiece over the fire in the sitting room as there were at her father's house. She thought the flat would be all the better for some photographs, not only to serve as reminders of those who were loved, or reflections of happy times spent in company, but to act as mirrors, where she might see the affection with which she was held by those dear to her. A mirror in which she could see her connections. ... Most of the time, thought, she was not lonely, just on her own, an unmarried woman of independent means, even when the extent of the means - or lack thereof - sometimes gave her cause to remain awake at night. She knew the worries that came to the fore at night were the ones you had to pay attention to, for they blurred reasoned thought, sucked clarity from any consideration of one's situation, and could lead a mind around in circles, leaving one drained and ill-tempered. And if there was no one close with whom to discuss those concerns, they grew in importance in the imagination, whether were rooted in good sense or not. ... She wondered if one could take leave of one's senses, even if one had no previous occasions of mental incapacity, simply by being isolated from others. Is that what pushed the man over the edge of all measured thought? Were his thoughts so distilled, without the calibrating effect of a normal life led among others, that he ceased to recognize the distinction between right and wrong, between good and evil, or between having a voice and losing it? And if that were so, might an ordinary woman living alone with her memories, with her work, with the walls of her flat drawing in upon her, be at some risk of not seeing the world as it is?

She is so beautiful, my Mari, that it makes me pause. How am I so lucky? I stare at her, overcome with emotion, and a big hand claps on my back. "It was like that for me, as well," Bek comments, and taps the underside of my jaw, where my mouth is hanging open. "I could not look at my Ell-ee without feeling overwhelmed for many, many moons after we resonated. I still feel overwhelmed, knowing she is mine." His hard face softens into a smile. "Take it for the gift that it is and be happy." "I shall," I vow,

One would hope such an enlightened man would be immune to the woes that plague us common folk. However, close friends of Adrian Wonders have often commented on his tempestuous nature, emphasizing the burden his gift has proven itself to be.

Pentecost, as is far too seldom noted by commentators, reverses Babel, and on that great birth day of the church the good news of Jesus is told truly and accurately in the variety of languages present in Jerusalem on that feast day. “After Pentecost” thus evokes the point that the real possibility of miscommunication does not have the final word; language is a good gift from God and when used properly is a wonderful vehicle for telling the truth about God and the world.

February 12 “And the LORD said unto Abram, after that Lot was separated from him, Lift up now thine eyes, and look from the place where thou art northward, and southward, and eastward, and westward: for all the land which thou seest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed for ever.” Genesis 13:14, 15 A SPECIAL blessing for a memorable occasion. Abram had settled a family dispute. He had said, “Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between thee and me, for we be brethren;” and hence he received the blessing which belongs to peacemakers. The Lord and giver of peace delights to manifest his grace to those who seek peace and pursue it. If we desire closer communion with God, we must keep closer to the ways of peace. Abram had behaved very generously to his kinsman, giving him his choice of the land. If we deny ourselves for peace sake, the Lord will more than make it up to us. As far as the patriarch can see, he can claim, and we may do the like by faith. Abram had to wait for the actual possession, but the Lord entailed the land upon him and his posterity. Boundless blessings belong to us by covenant gift. All things are ours. When we please the Lord, he makes us to look everywhere, and see all things our own, whether things present, or things to come: all are ours, and we are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.

Already uneasy over the foundations of their subject, mathematicians got a solid dose of ridicule from a clergyman, Bishop George Berkeley (1685-1753). Bishop Berkeley, in his caustic essay 'The Analyst, or a Discourse addressed to an Infidel Mathematician,' derided those mathematicians who were ever ready to criticize theology as being based upon unsubstantiated faith, yet who embraced the calculus in spite of its foundational weaknesses. Berkeley could not resist letting them have it: 'All these points [of mathematics], I say, are supposed and believed by certain rigorous exactors of evidence in religion, men who pretend to believe no further than they can see... But he who can digest a second or third fluxion, a second or third differential, need not, methinks, be squeamish about any point in divinity.' As if that were not devastating enough, Berkeley added the wonderfully barbed comment: 'And what are these fluxions? The velocities of evanescent increments. And what are these same evanescent increments? They are neither finite quantities, nor quantities infinitely small, not yet nothing. May we not call them the ghosts of departed quantities...?' Sadly, the foundations of the calculus had come to this - to 'ghosts of departed quantities.' One imagines hundreds of mathematicians squirming restlessly under this sarcastic phrase. Gradually the mathematical community had to address this vexing problem. Throughout much of the eighteenth century, they had simply been having too much success - and too much fun - in exploiting the calculus to stop and examine its underlying principles. But growing internal concerns, along with Berkeley's external sniping, left them little choice. The matter had to be resolved. Thus we find a string of gifted mathematicians working on the foundational questions. The process of refining the idea of 'limit' was an excruciating one, for the concept is inherently quite deep, requiring a precision of thought and an appreciation of the nature of the real number system that is by no means easy to come by. Gradually, though, mathematicians chipped away at this idea. By 1821, the Frenchman Augustin-Louis Cauchy (1789-1857) had proposed this definition: 'When the values successively attributed to a particular variable approach indefinitely a fixed value, so as to end by differing from it by as little as one wishes, this latter is called the limit of all the others.

mentions Michael going to a reception with Prince Charles and Diana: “All the women were in semi-formal dress, so I was surprised to see Diana resplendent in a low-cut off the shoulder evening dress of taffeta. She has lovely shoulders and arms and looked quite beautiful and talked to everyone with animation, charm, and enjoyment. It was easy to see why people do go mad about her.” Michael had no gift for calling up or appreciating such observations. His only comment: “Well, there you are.

The Lord works continually to benefit mankind. He is continually imparting his bounties. He raises up the sick from beds of languishing, he delivers men from peril which they do not see; he commissions heavenly angels to save men from calamity, to guard them from the pestilence that walketh in darkness, and from the destruction that wasteth at noonday, but their hearts are unimpressed. They do not consider God’s blessings, they do not rejoice in his love. They center all their thoughts upon themselves. They do not appreciate Christ’s pitying tenderness and matchless love. Only a few discern that their blessings are the result of the never-failing mercies of God through Jesus Christ; but those who do discern this fact, make melody in their hearts to God, and, as did the cleansed leper, they offer to him a tribute of praise and thanksgiving. There are many who claim that Jesus has cleansed them from the leprosy of sin. But how few continue to offer a tribute of praise, ascribing glory to God! The great gift that God has bestowed upon the world in his only-begotten Son, calls for as hearty a response of love and gratitude as that which fell from the lips of the Samaritan, who returned to give God glory. When our human friends bestow upon us gifts and favors, we feel an inclination to manifest gratitude, and to return gifts and favors to them. But how indifferent and careless, how unappreciative, are the hearts of men of the love of God! How little men seem to think of the blessings that are showered upon them by our kind heavenly Father! The Lord asked, “Where is my glory and my praise for the boundless love I have shown to men?” It is impossible for God to give a greater manifestation of his tender compassion and benevolent love. [Jn 3:16 quoted]. All heaven was comprised in that one gift. It is through the merits of the gift of Christ that we receive all our mercies. We may rejoice with heart and soul and voice as we partake of our daily food; for it is the gift of God through Jesus Christ. In the councils of heaven the Lord planned to reshape the broken, perverted characters of man, and to restore to them the moral image of God. This work is termed the mystery of godliness. Christ, the only-begotten of the Father, assumed human nature, came in the likeness of sinful flesh to condemn sin in the flesh. He came to testify to the unchangeable character of the law of God that had been impeached by Satan. … Christ lived the law in humanity, in order that … Satan might be proved an accuser and a liar. … In all his works he taught men that it was his mission not to destroy men’s lives, but to save them. -ST 7-2-96

November 1 “Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it.” 1 Thessalonians 5:24 WHAT will he do? He will sanctify us wholly. See the previous verse. He will carry on the work of purification till we are perfect in every part. He will preserve our “whole spirit, and soul, and body, blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” He will not allow us to fall from grace, nor come under the dominion of sin. What great favours are these! Well may we adore the giver of such unspeakable gifts. Who will do this? The Lord who has called us out of darkness into his marvellous light, out of death in sin into eternal life in Christ Jesus. Only he can do this: such perfection and preservation can only come from the God of all grace. Why will he do it? Because he is “faithful,” – faithful to his own promise which is pledged to save the believer; faithful to his Son, whose reward it is that his people shall be presented to him faultless; faithful to the work which he has commenced in us by our effectual calling. It is not their own faithfulness, but the Lord’s own faithfulness, on which the saints rely. Come, my soul, here is a grand feast to begin a dull month with. There may be fogs without, but there should be sunshine within.

The most important content of case teaching is the student contributions—their suggestions, comments, and questions. Experienced case teachers refer to student contributions, particularly the unexpectedly good ones or those that produce teaching moments, as “gifts” the students offer to the teacher and the class. There is a lot of merit in thinking about student contributions this way. Gift giving is associated with a certain risk. Will the recipient accept the gift, understand why it is given, appreciate its originality, and not suspect a hidden agenda or that the gift really is repurposed from something left over? Being a good case teacher (and participation evaluator) is like being a good gift recipient: you see the students’ gifts in the best possible light (don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right?) and try to make sense of even the more awkward presents, all to encourage more gift giving.

mother she was to her son. One who would appreciate the special gift of her love, and take every opportunity to just enjoy the pleasure of her company. To Gray’s immense emotional discomfort, the faceless new husband he was certain Bella needed suddenly bore an incredible likeness to himself. “Never’s a long time, Bella,” Gray said softly. He’d intended to make the comment light, but when the words left his lips, they were absolutely serious. Her eyes met his and he saw a wealth of emotion in their sweet blue depths. Lost hope, weary wisdom,

The International Herald Tribune reported on April 21, 2006, that the “crumbling mud-brick buildings” in the area Hussein was trying to re-build in Babylon, “look like smashed sandcastles at the beach. The newspaper observed that Babylon had been “ransacked, looted, torn up, paved over, neglected and roughly occupied…soldiers had even used soil thick with priceless artifacts to stuff sandbags”. The Mayor of a nearby village, Hilla, told the newspaper that he still had hopes that Babylon could someday have “restaurants, gift shops, long parking lots…and maybe even a Holiday Inn.” Iraqi officials are quoted as saying they would still like to turn Babylon into “a cultural center and possibly even an Iraqi theme park.” In spite of this, one Bible commentator wrote recently, that it was “enormously significant” that the U.S. had agreed to invest $700,000 (that’s thousands, not millions or billions – enough to buy a couple of nice houses) into re-building Babylon as a ‘tourist attraction.’ He wrote that ancient Babylon would become “the wealthiest and most powerful city on the face of the planet.” In arriving at this conclusion he has interpreted the Bible’s Daughter of Babylon verses as applying to the site of ancient Babylon.

July 6 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” John 3:16 OF all the stars in the sky the pole-star is the most useful to the mariner. This text is a pole-star, for it has guided more souls to salvation than any other Scripture. It is among promises what the Great Bear is among constellations. Several words in it shine with peculiar brilliance. Here we have God’s love, with a so to it, which marks its measureless greatness. Then we have God’s gift in all its freeness and greatness. This also is God’s Son, that unique and priceless gift of a love which could never fully show itself till Heaven’s Only-begotten had been sent to live and die for men. These three points are full of light. Then there is the simple requirement of believing, which graciously points to a way of salvation suitable for guilty men. This is backed by a wide description – “whosoever believeth in him.” Many have found room in “whosoever” who would have felt themselves shut out by a narrower word. Then comes the great promise, that believers in Jesus shall not perish, but have everlasting life. This is cheering to every man who feels that he is ready to perish, and that he cannot save himself. We believe in the Lord Jesus, and we have eternal life.

It’s the subtle talents you have that are often revealed to be your hidden superpowers. When you hear compliments repeated, instead of brushing them off and thinking someone is just trying to flatter you, stop to allow them to soak in. Take a moment to think about their comment and what it really means about you and your gifts.

Who does it belong to?” I wondered. Before Ghali could reply, the Nubian gentleman jumped into the driver’s seat and was searching for something in the glove box. "He is a business associate of Hakim. He owns several oil rigging enterprises in the Emirates and in the United States." "I see! He sure has great taste, at least when it comes to cars." I commented. Just then Ghali was called away to meet other arriving guests; I was left with the black man who now carried an elaborately wrapped gift under his left arm. "I believe we have not met. You are?” he asked, extending his hand to shake mine. "Hello Sir! I am Young, a student from England. The Hadrah has very kindly taken me and my guardian, Andy, into his Household. It’s part of an exchange program, through our school." The gentleman said, "So nice to meet you. I hope to make the acquaintance of your guardian." "I'm sure you will. He is probably looking for me as we speak. Andy doesn't like me out of his sight for too long.” "Understandable. Shall we head in, and join the other guests?” He guided my arm as we proceeded toward the mansion.

She’s not profligate with resources, despite the comment she once made in desperation to Justineau about amassing as many observations as she could in the hope that some pattern might finally emerge.

Mr. Kenton told me about the kiss you shared with Everett. The poor man was completely baffled about how to handle the situation, although he did mention something about a bat being involved, and not the type of bat that flies through the air at night.” Millie’s lips curved into a grin as she looked to Mr. Kenton, who smiled back and sent her a wink. Looking around the backyard, she was about to thank everyone for coming such a long way when Everett and the children reappeared, the children grinning from ear to ear and Everett looking rather . . . determined. He strode across the lawn and came to stop directly in front of her, silence descending as he took hold of her hand. Giving that hand a little squeeze, he smiled. “I was not comfortable saying anything until getting the approval of the children, but now that that has been fulfilled . . .” He dropped to his knees, but then, surprisingly enough, frowned. “Good heavens. This isn’t right. I don’t have a—” “I have one right here, darling.” Dorothy hurried up, pressed a small box into Everett’s hand, muttered something about it being a family heirloom, and then sent Millie a rather misty smile before she hurried back to Fletcher’s side. “You may continue.” “Thank you, Mother.” Everett looked up and smiled at Millie. “Where was I?” “You were getting ready to ask Miss Millie to marry you,” Thaddeus called. “Yes, quite right, thank you, Thaddeus.” Swallowing a laugh, Millie bit her lip as Everett grinned, but then he sobered a second later. “Miss Millie Longfellow, I know we’ve had our differences, and I know I’ve been a complete idiot with you, but as the esteemed Mr. Darcy said, or said something like this—through the pen of Jane Austen, of course—you are my reason for living, and I’d be beyond honored if you’d agree to become my wife.” “That’s not what Jane Austen wrote in her book,” Lucetta called. “Not even close.” “And you forgot to tell her you love her,” Elizabeth added. Everett turned and arched a brow at Lucetta. “I understand you have this gift for memorization, but honestly . . .” He directed his attention to Elizabeth next. “And as for your comment, I thought the whole ‘you are my reason for living’ covered that.” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not the same.” Sending Elizabeth a wink, Everett looked back up at Millie and smiled. “Well, there you have it. So I suppose all that’s left for me to say is . . . I love you.” With knees that were distinctly wobbly and a heart that felt ready to burst, Millie smiled back at him. “I love you too.” “And you’ll marry me?” “Of course.” Slipping the ring Dorothy had provided over Millie’s finger, Everett rose to his feet. Pulling Millie close to him, he smiled at the crowd watching them so intently, and then . . . he kissed her.

Still, women’s concerns about safety are frequently the subject of critical comments from the men in their lives. One woman told me of constant ridicule and sarcasm from her boyfriend whenever she discussed fear or safety. He called her precautions silly and asked, “How can you live like that?” To which she replied, “How could I not?” I

commented, If the Father did not spare his own Son but delivered him up to the agony and shame of Calvary, how could he possibly fail to bring to fruition the end contemplated in such sacrifice. The greatest gift of the Father, the most precious donation given to us, was not things. It was not calling, nor justification, nor even glorification. It is not even the security with which the apostle concludes his peroration (vs. 39). These are favours dispensed in the fulfillment of God’s gracious design. But the unspeakable and incomparable gift is the giving up of his own Son. So great is that gift, so marvellous are its implications, so far-reaching its consequences that all graces of lesser proportion are certain of free bestowment.…Since he is the supreme expression and embodiment of free gift and since his being given over by the Father is the supreme demonstration of the Father’s love, every other

Since you are the temple of God, you are holy and righteous. Never allow your failures and others’ comments cause you to feel condemned. “Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). 

In his thoughtful essay about Taniyama, Shimura made this striking comment:18             Though he was by no means a sloppy type, he was gifted with the special capability of making many mistakes, mostly in the right direction. I envied him for this, and tried in vain to imitate him, but found it quite difficult to make good mistakes.

•    Be an intentional blessing to someone. Devote yourself to caring for others. Even when your own needs begin to dominate your attention, set aside time daily to tune in to others. Pray for their specific needs and speak blessings to those you encounter each day. Make them glad they met you.     •    Seek joy. Each morning ask yourself, “Where will the joy be today?” and then look for it. Look high and low—in misty sunbeams, your favorite poem, the kind eyes of your caretaker, dew-touched spiderwebs, fluffy white clouds scuttling by, even extra butterflies summoned by heaven just to make you smile.     •    Prepare love notes. When energy permits, write, videotape, or audiotape little messages of encouragement to children, grandchildren, and friends for special occasions in their future. Reminders of your love when you won’t be there to tell them yourself. Enlist the help of a friend or family member to present your messages at the right time, labeled, “For my granddaughter on her wedding day,” “For my beloved friend’s sixty-fifth birthday,” or “For my dear son and daughter-in-law on their golden anniversary.”     •    Pass on your faith. Purchase a supply of Bibles and in the front flap of each one, write a personal dedication to the child or grandchild, friend, or neighbor you intend to give it to. Choose a specific book of the Bible (the Gospels are a great place to start) and read several chapters daily, writing comments in the margin of how this verse impacted your life or what that verse means to you. Include personal notes or prayers for the recipient related to highlighted scriptures. Your words will become a precious keepsake of faith for generations to come. (*Helpful hint: A Bible with this idea in mind might make a thoughtful gift for a loved one standing at the threshold of eternity. Not only will it immerse the person in the comforting balm of scripture, but it will give him or her a very worthwhile project that will long benefit those he or she loves.)     •    Make love your legacy. Emily Dickinson said, “Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality.” Ask yourself, “What will people remember most about me?” Meditate on John 15:12: “Love each other as I have loved you” (NIV). Tape it beside your bed so it’s the last thing you see at night and the first thing you see in the morning.     •    “Remember that God loves you and will see you through it.

(Be a Servant Leader: Mt 20:26-28; Lk 9:46-48; 22:24-27; Jn 12:24) Christ has given to every man his work, and we are to acknowledge the wisdom of the plan He has made for us by a hearty cooperation with Him. It is in a life of service only that true happiness is found. He who lives a useless, selfish life is miserable. He is dissatisfied with himself and with everyone else. True, unselfish, consecrated workers gladly use their highest gifts in the lowliest service. They realize that true service means to see and to perform the duties that God points out. There are many who are not satisfied with the work that God has given them. They are not satisfied to serve Him pleasantly in the place that He has marked out for them, or to do uncomplainingly the work that He has placed in their hands. It is right for us to be dissatisfied with the way in which we perform duty, but we are not to be dissatisfied with the duty itself, because we would rather do something else. In His providence God places before human beings service that will be as medicine to their diseased minds. Thus He seeks to lead them to put aside the selfish preferences which, if cherished, would disqualify them for the work He has for them. If they accept and perform this service, their minds will be cured. But if they refuse it, they will be left at strife with themselves and with others. The Lord disciplines His workers, so that they will be prepared to fill the places appointed them. He desires to mold their minds in accordance with His will. For this purpose He brings to them test and trial. Some He places where relaxed discipline and over-indulgence will not become their snare, where they are taught to appreciate the value of time, and to make the best and wisest use of it. There are some who desire to be a ruling power, and who need the sanctification of submission. God brings about a change in their lives, and perhaps places before them duties that they would not choose. If they are willing to be guided by Him, He will give them grace and strength to perform the objectionable duties in a spirit of submission and helpfulness. They are being qualified to fill places where their disciplined abilities will make them of the greatest service. Some God trains by bringing to them disappointment and apparent failure. It is His purpose that they shall learn to master difficulty. He inspires them with a determination to make every apparent failure prove a success. Often men pray and weep because of the perplexities and obstacles that confront them. But if they will hold the beginning of their confidence steadfast unto the end, He will make their way clear. Success will come to them as they struggle against apparently insurmountable difficulties; and with success will come the greatest joy. Many are ignorant of how to work for God, not because they need to be ignorant, but because they are not willing to submit to His training process. -8MR 422, 423 • TMK 44-The Pattern Man; UL 62-A Living Connection With the Living God

Hail to thee, O teacher of Brahmins!” Onesikritos said after seeking out Dandamis in his forest retreat. “The son of the mighty God Zeus, being Alexander who is the Sovereign Lord of all men, asks you to go to him. If you comply, he will reward you with great gifts; if you refuse, he will cut off your head!” The yogi received calmly this fairly compulsive invitation, and “did not so much as lift up his head from his couch of leaves.” “I also am a son of Zeus, if Alexander be such,” he commented. “I want nothing that is Alexander’s, for I am content with what I have, while I see that he wanders with his men over sea and land for no advantage, and is never coming to an end of his wanderings. “Go and tell Alexander that God the Supreme King is never the Author of insolent wrong, but is the Creator of light, of peace, of life, of water, of the body of man and of souls; He receives all men when death sets them free, being then in no way subject to evil disease. He alone is the God of my homage, who abhors slaughter and instigates no wars. “Alexander is no god, since he must taste of death,” continued the sage in quiet scorn. “How can such as he be the world’s master, when he has not yet seated himself on a throne of inner universal dominion? Neither as yet has he entered living into Hades, nor does he even know the course of the sun over the vast regions of this earth. Most nations have not so much as heard his name!” After this chastisement—surely the most caustic ever sent to assault the ears of the “Lord of the World”—the sage added ironically,

In October, she spent three days on an official tour in Wales. This might have been a difficult tour. Unemployment in Wales was up to sixteen percent, and the economy was down. Traditionally, many Welsh had seen the British as snobs who believed that they were superior. Even the weather was against her as dark and cloudy skies scattered rain in her path. To the surprise of many, crowds lined the streets to meet this new princess as she passed by shops, trailer courts, and rundown coal mines. She smiled and waved, and people in the streets waved and smiled back. They wanted to touch her, to talk to her, and to listen to her voice. She answered their comments easily and naturally. She asked some how far they had come for the procession. She asked others if they had been waiting long for her. She expressed surprise and delight at their loyalty to her. She graciously accepted hundreds of gifts--among them flowers, poems, and a Welsh heifer. In Cardiff, she gave her first public speech as Diana, Princess of Wales. When she uttered a phrase in Welsh, the crowd roared their approval of her accent. As one spectator put it, Diana “speaks it like an angel, she does.

and John explained that Christ would baptize with the Holy Spirit. In the broader context of Isaiah 40–55, there is a close connection between the outpouring of the Spirit and the resulting new creation: “For I will pour water on him who is thirsty, and floods on the dry ground; I will pour My Spirit on your descendants, and My blessing on your offspring” (Isa. 44:3; cf. Gen. 49:25; Ezek. 34:26–27; Joel 2:14; Mal. 3:10–11). Here the dry and thirsty land receives the outpouring of water, which brings rejuvenation, and this imagery is tied to the outpouring of the Spirit. Concerning this verse, though, John Goldingay explains, “Yhwh’s renewal of the people is an act of new creation.”46 This conclusion seems warranted, especially in light of Isaiah 44:2: “Thus says the LORD who made you and formed you from the womb [עשך ויצרך], who will help you.” E. J. Young explains, “The expression Creator [יצר] used of God as the Creator of His people is found only in Isaiah, as also the parallels Maker and Former.”47 This language is used, for example, in the creation account of man (Gen. 2:7). All of this imagery comes with a kaleidoscope of ideas that ties together creation, exodus, new creation, and the eschatological outpouring of the Spirit.48 These observations are not new. J. Luzarraga, commenting on Isaiah 31:5, explains that this verse, as well as the others thus far surveyed, refer to: a “return,” a second exodus, a new exodus, which…comes described with features taken from the first exodus, projecting upon an eschatological future, for the gifts that God has granted in the past are only a symbol of his provision in the future. As in the days past, so also in the ones to come, “Like birds hovering, so the LORD of hosts will protect Jerusalem; he will protect and deliver it; he will spare and rescue

His tone dry, Syn pulled Darling’s shoulder and urged him toward it. “Get on here. Lie down. And don’t say anything.” Darling rolled his eyes before he obeyed. Winking at her, Syn covered him with a sheet. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with Lord Social here.” “I vote we shoot him,” Hauk said with an evil smirk. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with my hearing. Right, Hauk?” Hauk grinned at Darling’s comment. “Yeah. Like I care.” “You will when I send you a special gift that’s wrapped with wiring.” “Children…” Syn had the voice of a stressed parent. “Let’s not fight.” “Yes, Dad,” they said in unison. She

Mom, why did you wrap the gifts that way?” The teenager with her hand on her hip had no clue how close I was to seriously canceling Christmas. Not just this party. But the whole December 25 situation. “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it. We’re also bringing Easter candy for our dessert. And if you say one critical comment about my obviously brilliant party-attending skills, we won’t go. You hear me? Not one more word. Now go get in the car, and let’s pretend like we’re happy to be going to this party.

But if we see happiness in our Bibles, isn’t it self-evident that it’s a God-centered and God-honoring happiness, not a general, secular one? Don’t all Bible readers know that when Scripture speaks of peace, hope, justice, and love, it routinely attaches deeper and more Christ-centered meanings to those words than our culture does? One commentator says that makarios “is a deeper word than ‘happy,’ implying that deep and lasting joy that comes only as a gift from God.”[30] How does using blessed instead of happy convey a deep and lasting joy to readers? Arguably, to the great majority of people, it conveys no joy or happiness at all.

Whatever your critics say about you has no bearing on your worth. You are a child of the Most High God. The Creator of the universe breathed life into you. You have seeds of greatness on the inside. You’ve been crowned with favor. God has already equipped and empowered you with everything you need. Don’t waste your valuable time trying to play up to people, trying to win over all your critics, or trying to prove to someone that you’re important. Accept the fact that some people will never celebrate you. They will never recognize your gifts. That’s okay. Don’t be distracted. God has already lined up the right people to celebrate you, the right people who will cheer you on and help you fulfill your destiny. If you want to live in victory, you have to be very careful with your time and attention. You have to know what thoughts to ignore, what comments to ignore, and, I say this respectfully, what people to ignore. If someone at work is always on your nerves, making sarcastic comments, you could try to straighten them out, but you’d be wasting valuable time and energy that could be spent pursuing your dreams. Don’t be distracted. Ignore such people. If a family member never gives you any credit, either you can let that upset and frustrate you or you can dismiss it and say, “No big deal. I don’t need their approval. I have almighty God’s approval.” You don’t have to straighten people out. You don’t have to pay somebody back. You don’t have to be offended because of what someone said. You can ignore it and live happily. I’m convinced we would enjoy life a whole lot more if we would get good at knowing what to ignore.

A great way to open a conversation—even a business conversation—is to notice an item that relates somehow to the person you’re speaking with. It could be a drawing on the office wall, a desktop pencil holder made by a child, a squash racquet leaning in the corner of the room. Make a comment that shows interest, admiration, or warmth. Or ask a question of a similar kind. “That’s a beautiful picture. Who’s the artist?” Or “What a thoughtful gift. Is that from one of your children?” Or “Squash? Isn’t that a hard game to learn?” There’s nothing profound about any of those remarks. But every one of them shows a basic, personal interest in the other person, and it connects in a positive, tasteful way.

You’re not making this gift thing any easier, you know,” I comment with a playful tone, and Essence laughs.“Isn’t gift giving supposed to be a surprise?” she asks, her eyebrow raised in false curiosity. “Yeah, and?” “If I told you what I wanted then it wouldn’t be very much of a surprise.

He’d brought that damned gold couch with them, shredded cushions and all. It had earned him no shortage of comments from Hasar when it was hauled into the cargo hold, but he didn’t care. If they survived this war, he’d build a house for Yrene around the damn thing. Along with a stable for Farasha, currently terrorizing the poor soldiers tasked with mucking out her stall aboard the ship. A wedding gift from Hasar, along with Yrene’s own Muniqi horse.

They don’t set and hold good boundaries to protect themselves. They don’t set limits on what is and what is not acceptable for other people to do to them. And, if and when they do set limits, they back down and allow the behavior to continue. They don’t ask for what they want. Because they believe they don’t deserve good things or a better life, they don’t ask for them. They berate themselves. They beat themselves up more than anyone else because they feel as though they have failed in some way, even if it was a simple, honest mistake. And they stay quiet about it for fear of being wrong or sounding stupid. They seek perfection in themselves and/or others. When they can’t be perfect, they give themselves a hard time instead of accepting what is. Or, they look for other people’s faults to make them feel better rather than looking at themselves, which is only a temporary fix. They focus on the negatives. They believe that everyone else’s life is better or more important than theirs. Instead of looking at all the good things they have, they compare their lives to those of others. One tiny negative comment can linger forever in their memory while all the compliments and praise go unnoticed. They tend to stay quiet and suffer. At times it makes sense to speak up and say what is wanted, but they hold back because they see themselves as not worthy or deserving. They don’t acknowledge the beauty and gifts they bring to the world. Instead, they dismiss as negligible or immaterial that which they offer to the world.

FROM: VJ CAPELLO DATE: APRIL 20 TO: VIVIAN JANE COHEN SUBJECT: THANK YOU Vivian Jane, I appreciate you defending me to Alex, although it’s hardly necessary. I only hope I can justify your faith in me with my performance on the field. Your emails have been a welcome distraction from the fact that I am now 0-3 on the season. I don’t think you understand your own gifts sometimes. I am also glad to hear you’re spending time with Alex outside of games and practice. His sister sounds like a real character, but possibly a friend for you as well. I wouldn’t get too bothered by her comments about you and Alex. Friends are most excellent. Now I really must go watch some videos before my next start. The team hasn’t been playing great lately, and I need to fix things. Hoping both of our knuckleballs knuckle, VJ FROM: VIVIAN JANE COHEN DATE: APRIL 22 TO: VJ CAPELLO SUBJECT: FINE-NESS VJ, Well, of course I am going to defend you to Alex!

Living in London, it’s easy to forget that people can talk to each other. I walk my dogs around Wapping past hundreds of people on pavements and in parks and it is very rare a smile is exchanged or the silence broken. I occasionally get ‘Are you Graham Norton?’ ‘Love the show’ or a simple ‘Faggot!’ but for most people making their way through the capital, you soon learn that people generally only speak to you when they are (a) crazy, (b) want money, or (c) both. We quickly learn the rules and for the most part they work. In Ireland it is impossible to imagine not saying hello or commenting on the weather. When I first started going back home again, it would always take me a day or two to stop thinking everyone I met was trying to sell me something or explaining why they needed £2 to get the train. I know this is true of rural communities the world over, but talking seems to be something we in Ireland are especially gifted at. There are nights in the pub when my friends look on in slack-jawed incomprehension as someone opens their mouth and a torrent of words tumble free. Usually they don’t have anything to say. Their gate fell down. Who put it there. The man who fixed it. The general state of gates in the area. I will then remember an ‘interesting’ fact about my own gate. They will know the man who owned the forge where they made it. Are they a relation of the man who delivers the stuff? And so it goes. A seamless gush of phrases and banter as traditional as a sing-song or drink-driving. It is talking for the pure pleasure of it and not to communicate a single thing. It is the human equivalent of barking or birdsong.

Later, she said that life would have been much easier and more spiritually rewarding for her if, instead of channeling her energy and time to discredit Alphonsine and Anathalie, she’d stopped for a moment and really listened to the messages. After one apparition, Marie Claire commented that one of Our Lady’s greatest sorrows during her many visits to Kibeho was that not enough people truly listened to the loving advice and counsel she offered through her visionaries. Too many individuals came to the village simply to witness a miracle, and while their eyes and ears searched the heavens for a supernatural event, their hearts failed to hear the messages Mary repeated again and again: love God, love and be kind to each other, read the Bible, follow God’s commandments, accept the love of Christ, repent for sins, be humble, seek and offer forgiveness, and live the gift of your life how God wants you to—with a clean and open heart and a clear conscience.

Commenting on these passages, Mark Gornik, a theologian, pastor, and community developer in the United States, says, “Here then from both James and Paul is a central witness drawn from all of Scripture: God has sovereignly chosen to work in the world by beginning with the weak who are on the ‘outside,’ not the powerful who are on the ‘inside.’”9 The claim here is not that the poor are inherently more righteous or sanctified than the rich. There is no place in the Bible that indicates that poverty is a desirable state or that material things are evil. In fact, wealth is viewed as a gift from God. The point is simply that, for His own glory, God has chosen to reveal His kingdom in the place where the world, in all of its pride, would least expect it, among the foolish, the weak, the lowly, and the despised.

Don’t think of introversion as something that needs to be cured. If an introverted child needs help with social skills, teach her or recommend training outside class, just as you’d do for a student who needs extra attention in math or reading. But celebrate these kids for who they are. “The typical comment on many children’s report cards is, ‘I wish Molly would talk more in class,’ ” Pat Adams, the former head of the Emerson School for gifted students in Ann Arbor, Michigan, told me. “But here we have an understanding that many kids are introspective. We try to bring them out, but we don’t make it a big deal. We think about introverted kids as having a different learning style

What are some of the things your last employer could have done to be more successful? Does the applicant offer a long list of items and appear to feel he could have run things better than management did? Are his comments constructive or angry? There is a follow-up:

It is commonplace, nowadays, to hark back to a time when Christmas was simpler, more authentic, and less commercial than it has become. Even professional historians have tended to write about the pre-twentieth-century in that way. Generally when people muse along these lines it is to associate the noncommercial holiday with the years of their own childhood, or perhaps the childhood of their parents or (at most) their grandparents. As it happens, such musings have been commonplace for a long time--for more than a century and a half. Consider the theme of a short story dating back to the middle of the nineteenth century, a story that commented on the profusion of presents bought and sold during the holiday season--and the trouble many comfortably-off Americans had in finding something meaningful to give their loved ones at Christmas. The author of the story was soon to become America's best-known writer--Harriet Beecher Stowe....When she was a child of 10, explained Stowe...'the very idea of a present was so new' that a child would be 'perfectly delighted' with the gift of even a single piece of candy. In those days, 'presents did not fly about as they do now.' But nowadays, things seem different: 'There are worlds of money wasted, at this time of year, in getting things that nobody wants, and nobody cares for after they are got.' Just as many people do today, Harriet Beecher Stowe seems to have believed that this change took place within her own generation (she was born in 1811).

Dink remembered reading—back on Earth, when he could read what he wanted—the silly claim that the Great Wall of China was the only human artifact that could be seen from space. In fact the claim wasn’t even true—at least not from geosynchronous orbit or higher. The wall didn’t even cast enough of a shadow to be seen. No, the human artifact that could be seen from space, that showed up in picture after picture without exciting any comment at all, was Holland. It should have been nothing but barrier islands with wide saltwater sounds behind them. Instead, because the Dutch built their dikes and pumped out the salt water and purified the soil, it was land. Lush, green land—visible from space. But nobody recognized it as a human artifact. It was just land. It grew plants and fed dairy cattle and held houses and highways, just like any other land. But we did it. We Dutch. And when the sea levels rose, we raised our dikes higher and made them thicker and stronger, and nobody thought, Wow, look at the Dutch, they created the largest human artifact on Earth, and they’re still making it, a thousand years later.

Her voice had been such an important part of her life before. The merfolk celebrated her for it. Her father excused her occasionally questionable behavior because of it. Eric loved the girl who rescued him, because of her singing... But... ... she'd never really enjoyed singing for anyone else. In fact, she hated audiences. She sang because she liked to sing. She just... felt... something, and had to sing it. If she were happy, or sad, or angry... she would go off by herself and sing to the coral, sing to the seaweed, sing to an audience of sea snails or tube worms (who listened, but never commented). Most of her mergirlhood had been spent swimming around, exploring, singing to herself. Making up little stories in her head and then putting them into song.

One’s imagination is kindled thinking about the conversation of the innkeeper and his family at the breakfast table. Did anyone mention the arrival of the young couple the night before? Did anyone ask about their welfare? Did anyone comment on the pregnancy of the girl on the donkey? Perhaps. Perhaps someone raised the subject. But, at best, it was raised, not discussed. There was nothing that novel about them. They were, possibly, one of several families turned away that night.

As we learned in the 2012 election campaign, it’s also embedded in the minds and mouths of our politicians. Remember that spate of crazy pro-rape things Republican men said last summer and fall, starting with Todd Akin’s notorious claim that a woman has ways of preventing pregnancy in cases of rape, a statement he made in order to deny women control over their own bodies (in the form of access to abortion after rape). After that, of course, Senate candidate Richard Mourdock claimed that rape pregnancies were “a gift from God,” and soon after another Republican politician piped up to defend Akin’s comment. Happily the five publicly pro-rape Republicans in the 2012 campaign all lost their election bids.

So, what is salvation? According to J. Richard Middleton, salvation is “God’s deliverance of those in a situation of need from that which impedes their well-being, resulting in a restoration to wholeness.” 305 Salvation is holistic and comprehensive, as much concerned with spiritual matters as it is with physical issues. Salvation is a restoration to humanity’s original royal state. This is where the gospel—the “good news”—comes into play. At the heart of the gospel is the challenging yet deeply comforting notion of the “already and not yet.” Salvation is a gift of grace bestowed on us by faith in Jesus now and later. That is why we must resist allegorizing the parables, for when we do, we reduce them to “earthly stories with heavenly meanings,” as Wright has commented. 306 For the very same reason, we must decidedly not allegorize The Lord of the Rings. By allegorizing the parables, we turn them into otherworldly stories, not the beautiful, holistic stories that they are.

I asked my daughter how many kids would come to her birthday party if all we offered was cake. No games, no entertainment. They could come to the house to spend time with her and bring gifts to celebrate her, but we wouldn’t have anything else for them. She thought for a minute and said, “Maybe just a couple.” Then I asked her how many would come if I rented out Dave & Buster’s and let them have unlimited tokens, food, and prizes. She laughed and said confidently that the whole school would show up. So let’s say that for her birthday party I rent out the arcade and her whole school comes. They’re all going nuts, having the time of their lives. Imagine if I pulled her aside during the party, put my arm around her, and said, “Look at all the people who came to be with you!” Would she actually believe those people were there because they love her and want to spend time with her? Or would my comment actually be insulting? Isn’t this basically what we do with God? We have learned that we can fill church buildings if we bring in the right speaker or band. Make things exciting enough and people will come. We say, “God, look how many people are coming because they love being with You!” But do we really think God is fooled by this? Do we think God is pleased? He knows how many would show up if it was just Him. He knows there might be only a few if all we offered was Communion or prayer.

Pragmatically, there is an evident need for the continuation of many of the functions of the original apostles. This would include church planting, laying good foundations in churches, continuing to oversee those churches, appointing the leaders, giving ongoing fatherly care to leaders, and handling difficult questions that may arise from those churches. There are really only three ways for churches to carry out these functions: 1. Each church is free to act totally independently and to seek God’s mind for its own government and pastoral wisdom, without any help from outside, unless the church may choose to seek it at any particular time. When we started the church which I am still a part of, for example, we were so concerned to be ‘independent’ that we would not even join the Fellowship of Independent Evangelical Churches, although we adopted their trust deed and constitution because that would prevent us being purely independent. We were at that time very proud of our ‘independence’! 2. Churches operate under some sort of structured and formal oversight, as in many denominations today, where local church leaders are appointed by and accountable to regional leadership, whether ‘bishops’, ‘superintendents’ or ‘overseers’. It is hard to justify this model from the pages of the New Testament, though we recognize that it developed very early in church history. Even the word episkopos, translated ‘bishop’ or ‘overseer’, which came to be used of those having wider authority and oversight over other leaders and churches, was used in the New Testament as a synonym for the local leaders or elders of a particular church. The three main forms of church government current in the institutional church are Episcopalianism (government by bishops), Presbyterianism (government by local elders) and Congregationalism (government by the church meeting). Each of these is only a partial reflection of the New Testament. Commenting on these forms of government without apostolic ministry, Phil Greenslade says, ‘We assert as our starting point what the other three viewpoints deny: that the apostolic role is as valid and vital today as ever before. This is to agree with the German charismatic theologian, Arnold Bittlinger, when he says “the New Testament nowhere suggests that the apostolic ministry was intended only for first-century Christians”.’39 3. We aim to imitate the New Testament practice of travelling ministries of apostles and prophets, with apostles having their own spheres of responsibility as a result of having planted and laid the foundations in the churches they oversee. Such ministries continue the connection with local churches as a result of fatherly relationships and not denominational election or appointment, recognizing that there will need to be new charismatically gifted and friendship-based relationships continuing into later generations. This is the model that the ‘New Apostolic Reformation’ (to use Peter Wagner’s phrase) is attempting to follow. Though mistakes have been made, including some quite serious ones involving controlling authority, and though those of us involved are still seeking to find our way with the Holy Spirit’s help, it seems to reflect more accurately the New Testament pattern and a present-day outworking of scriptures such as 1 Corinthians 12 and Ephesians 4. ‘Is the building finished? Is the Bride ready? Is the Body full-grown, are the saints completely equipped? Has the church attained its ordained unity and maturity? Only if the answer to these questions is “yes” can we dispense with apostolic ministry. But as long as the church is still growing up into Christ, who is its head, this ministry is needed. If the church of Jesus Christ is to grow faster than the twentieth century population explosion, which I assume to be God’s intention, then we will need to produce, recognize and use Pauline apostles.’40

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