Thanks On His Behalf Quotes

If on Judgement Day I were summoned by St. Peter to give testimony to the used-to-be sheriff's act of kindness, I would be unable to say anything in his behalf. His confidence that my uncle and every other Black man who heard of the Klan's coming ride would scurry under their houses to hide in chicken droppings was too humiliating to hear. Without waiting for Momma's thanks, he rode out of the yard, sure that things were as they should be and that he was a gentle squire, saving those deserving serfs from the laws of the land, which he condoned.

Nice vest, Sophie,” said Luca, straight off the bat. “I can barely see you.” “Luca.” I tore my attention away from Nic for the amount of time needed to throw his brother a contemptuous glare. “A pleasure, as always.” […] “Ignore Luca. That’s just his bad attempt at trash-talking you,” Nic cut in, sending his brother a glare on my behalf. “And my way of pointing out that she’s small,” Luca added. “Thanks, Sherlock. I know I’m small.” “Just making sure.” “Do you even have a brain-to-mouth filter?” I asked. “I try not to overuse it,” he returned blithely. “Clearly.” “Don’t cry about it, Day-Glo.

America, is there lipstick on my teeth?" Zoe asked. I turned to my left and found her smiling maniacally, exposing all her pearly whites. "No, you're good," I answered, seeing out of the corner of my eye that Marlee was nodding in confirmation. "Thanks. How is he so calm?" Zoe asked, pointing over at Maxon, who was talking to a member of the crew. She then bent down and put her head between her legs and started doing controlled breathing. Marlee and I looked at each other, eyes wide with amusement, and tried not to laugh. It was hard if we looked at Zoe, so we surveyed the room and chatted about what others were wearing. There were several girls in seductive reds and lively greens, but no one else in blue. Olivia had gone so far as to wear orange. I'd admit that I didn't know that much about fashion, but Marlee and I both agreed that someone should have intervened on her behalf. The color made her skin look kind of green. Two minutes before the cameras turned on, we realized it wasn't the dress making her look green. Olivia vomited into the closest trash can very loudly and collapsed on the floor. Silvia swooped in, and a fuss was made to wipe the sweat off her and get her into a seat. She was placed in the back row with a small receptacle at her feet, just in case. Bariel was in the seat in front of her. I couldn't hear what she muttered to the poor girl from where I was, but it looked like Bariel was prepared to injure Olivia should she have another episode near her. I guessed that Maxon had seen or heard some of the commotion, and I looked over to see if he was having any sort of reaction to it all. But he wasn't looking toward the disturbance; he was looking at me. Quickly-so quickly it would look like nothing but scratching an itch to anyone else-Maxon reached up and tugged on his ear. I repeated the action back, and we both turned away. I was excited to know that tonight, after dinner, Maxon would be stopping by my room.

When reading the history of the Jewish people, of their flight from slavery to death, of their exchange of tyrants, I must confess that my sympathies are all aroused in their behalf. They were cheated, deceived and abused. Their god was quick-tempered unreasonable, cruel, revengeful and dishonest. He was always promising but never performed. He wasted time in ceremony and childish detail, and in the exaggeration of what he had done. It is impossible for me to conceive of a character more utterly detestable than that of the Hebrew god. He had solemnly promised the Jews that he would take them from Egypt to a land flowing with milk and honey. He had led them to believe that in a little while their troubles would be over, and that they would soon in the land of Canaan, surrounded by their wives and little ones, forget the stripes and tears of Egypt. After promising the poor wanderers again and again that he would lead them in safety to the promised land of joy and plenty, this God, forgetting every promise, said to the wretches in his power:—'Your carcasses shall fall in this wilderness and your children shall wander until your carcasses be wasted.' This curse was the conclusion of the whole matter. Into this dust of death and night faded all the promises of God. Into this rottenness of wandering despair fell all the dreams of liberty and home. Millions of corpses were left to rot in the desert, and each one certified to the dishonesty of Jehovah. I cannot believe these things. They are so cruel and heartless, that my blood is chilled and my sense of justice shocked. A book that is equally abhorrent to my head and heart, cannot be accepted as a revelation from God. When we think of the poor Jews, destroyed, murdered, bitten by serpents, visited by plagues, decimated by famine, butchered by each, other, swallowed by the earth, frightened, cursed, starved, deceived, robbed and outraged, how thankful we should be that we are not the chosen people of God. No wonder that they longed for the slavery of Egypt, and remembered with sorrow the unhappy day when they exchanged masters. Compared with Jehovah, Pharaoh was a benefactor, and the tyranny of Egypt was freedom to those who suffered the liberty of God. While reading the Pentateuch, I am filled with indignation, pity and horror. Nothing can be sadder than the history of the starved and frightened wretches who wandered over the desolate crags and sands of wilderness and desert, the prey of famine, sword, and plague. Ignorant and superstitious to the last degree, governed by falsehood, plundered by hypocrisy, they were the sport of priests, and the food of fear. God was their greatest enemy, and death their only friend. It is impossible to conceive of a more thoroughly despicable, hateful, and arrogant being, than the Jewish god. He is without a redeeming feature. In the mythology of the world he has no parallel. He, only, is never touched by agony and tears. He delights only in blood and pain. Human affections are naught to him. He cares neither for love nor music, beauty nor joy. A false friend, an unjust judge, a braggart, hypocrite, and tyrant, sincere in hatred, jealous, vain, and revengeful, false in promise, honest in curse, suspicious, ignorant, and changeable, infamous and hideous:—such is the God of the Pentateuch.

I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and jumped when I turned and found Ren’s brother standing behind me as a man. Ren got up, alert, and watched him carefully, suspicious of Kishan’s every move. Ren’s tail twitched back and forth, and a deep grumble issued from his chest. Kishan look down at Ren, who had crept even closer to keep an eye on him, and then looked back at me. He reached out his hand, and when I placed mine in it, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it, then bowed deeply with great aplomb. “May I ask your name?” “My name is Kelsey. Kelsey hayes.” “Kelsey. Well, I, for one, appreciate all the efforts you have made on our behalf. I apologize if I frightened you earlier. I am,” he smiled, “out of practice in conversing with young ladies. These gifts you will be offering to Durga. Would you kindly tell me more about them?” Ren growled unhappily. I nodded. “Is Kishan your given name?” “My full name is actually Sohan Kishan Rajaram, but you can call me Kishan if you like.” He smiled a dazzling white smile, which was even more brilliant due to the contrast with his dark skin. He offered an arm. “Would you please sit and talk with me, Kelsey?” There was something very charming about Kishan. I surprised myself by finding I immediately trusted and liked him. He had a quality similar to his brother. Like Ren, he had the ability to set a person completely at ease. Maybe it was their diplomatic training. Maybe it was how their mother raised them. Whatever it was made me respond positively. I smiled at him. “I’d love to.” He tucked my arm under his and walked with me over to the fire. Ren growled again, and Kishan shot a smirk in his direction. I noticed him wince when he sat, so I offered him some aspirin. “Shouldn’t we be getting you two to a doctor? I really think you might need stitches and Ren-“ “Thank you, but no. You don’t need to worry about our minor pains.” “I wouldn’t exactly call your wounds minor, Kishan.” “The curse helps us to heal quickly. You’ll see. We’ll both recover swiftly enough on our own. Still, it was nice to have such a lovely young woman tending to my injuries.” Ren stood in front of us and looked like he was a tiger suffering from apoplexy. I admonished, “Ren, be civil.” Kishan smiled widely and waited for me to get comfortable. Then he scooted closer to me and rested his arm on the log behind my shoulders. Ren stepped right between us, nudged his brother roughly aside with his furry head, creating a wider space, and maneuvered his body into the middle. He dropped heavily to the ground and rested his head in my lap. Kishan frowned, but I started talking, sharing the story of what Ren and I had been through. I told him about meeting Ren at the circus and about how he tricked me to get me to India. I talked about Phet, the Cave of Kanheri, and finding the prophecy, and I told him that we were on our way to Hampi. As I lost myself in our story, I stroked Ren’s head. He shut his eyes and purred, and then he fell asleep. I talked for almost an hour, barely registering Kishan’s raised eyebrow and thoughtful expression as he watched the two of us together. I didn’t even notice when he’d changed back into a tiger.

prepubescent relative to collect your excellence-in-filmed-sodomy prize?—are met with bemused shrugs), “but I’m here to thank you on his behalf, and to say that I taught Jim everything he knows.” [Enormous audience laugh and ovation, single spasmodic shudder from hunched ABC Radio lady.]

After the injury, I thank God I had Slater around me. Slates has been a big part of my NFL success and my growth as a man as anyone. He is a positive guy, true at heart, and so giving. He's a devout Christian, and when he's praying for you, it's not just words. You know he's actively speaking to his higher power on your behalf.

The boy, Max Rüst, will later on become a tinker, father of seven more Rüsts, he will go to work for the firm of Hallis & Co., Plumbing and Roofing, in Grünau. At the age of 52 he will win a quarter of a prize in the Prussian Class Lottery, then he will retire from business and die during an adjustment suit which he has started against the firm of Hallis & Co., at the age of 55. His obituary will read as follows: On September, suddenly, from heart-disease, my beloved husband, our dear father, son, brother, brother-in-law, and uncle, Paul Rüst, in his 55th year. This announcement is made with deep grief on behalf of his sorrowing family by Marie Rüst. The notice of thanks after the funeral will read as follows: Acknowledgment. Being unable to acknowledge individually all tokens of sympathy in our bereavement, we hereby express our profound gratitude to all relatives, friends, as well as to the tenants of No. 4 Kleiststrasse and to all our acquaintances. Especially do we thank Herr Deinen for his kind words of sympathy. At present his Max Rüst is 14 years old, has just finished public school, is supposed to call by on his way there at the clinic for the defective in speech, the hard of hearing, the weak-visioned, the weak-minded, the in-corrigible, he has been there at frequent intervals, because he stutters, but he is getting better now.

On Mancreu he had no platoon to look after. Brighton House was vast and empty. There were two ballrooms in the east wing, both dim and sheeted. On his third day he had unwrapped a leather armchair in one of the drawing rooms so that he could sit, and discovered over those early weeks that he rather liked the quiet. In fact, he could spend ages in it. He had found it hard at first to listen without tracking things, without placing them and knowing them for friend or enemy, but gradually that automatic classification had faded away and he was left with rustling leaves and waves and a cowbell somewhere far off, and the idling of a fisherman’s outboard in the choppy water beneath the cliff. He walked the endless corridors on the upper floors alone, wondering what the rooms had seen. There was a local bird with a quite infuriating cry like a sneeze, and he amused himself by saying “bless you” whenever he heard it. Occasionally he thanked himself on behalf of the bird. After a while he found that he could forget the clock and even dismiss memory and awareness almost entirely, fade into the scenery and let his senses be everything that there was of him. It was wonderful.

Jesus, thank you for remembering the truth faithfully on our behalf. You worshiped your Father daily, with unwavering faith and unshakable hope in his goodness. Cherishing the Father’s unchangeable character, you submitted to his perfect wisdom and trusted him completely in all the circumstances of your life, even when it was most painful. You took refuge in him often in your times of need and never turned toward false gods. Now your obedience becomes our strong encouragement to hope in the midst of continuing weakness, and you continue to advocate our cause as our heavenly High Priest. We have no other hope, nor do we need one.

We wonder whether we are praying for the right things, but Christ is the wisest of all men, so he knows exactly what to ask the Father for on our behalf. We fear that our prayers won't be heard, but the Father delights to honor His Son, so Christ's petitions will always be welcomed. We grow tired, distracted, and cold in our prayers, but Christ in His Resurrection life is constantly interceding for us. We fall into sin, but Christ is already pleading our case, applying the blood of Calvary for our forgiveness. Christ indeed has far more compassion for us, pity for us, and love for us than we do for ourselves. He is, thank God, more committed to our safe arrival home than we are.

Can’t we find some way out of this, Mr. Fancy Prince?” “Marc’s on it,” Dec said, holding up his phone. “He thinks you two might be able to use your royal sway to either commandeer them on behalf of the royal household or get the Astronomer to accept payment for them rather than press charges.” “Payment?” Bryce blurted. “Relax,” Flynn said, smirking. “We got the money, Princess.” “Yeah, I’ve seen your daddy’s fancy house,” Bryce quipped, earning a scowl from Flynn and an ooooooh from the sprites. Bryce suppressed her smile and lifted a brow to Ruhn. She’d fucked up one friendship thanks to pulling princess rank, but this…For Lehabah she’d do it. “You in, Chosen One?” Ruhn’s mouth quirked to the side. “Hel yeah, Starborn.

Stephen Colbert: [sitting to Stewart’s right at the anchor desk] Actually, Jon, we’re not quite done. Jon Stewart: [rolling away from Colbert on his chair and nearly toppling off the riser] Don’t do this. Stephen Colbert: [rolling after Stewart and grabbing him by the arm] No—you can’t stop anyone, because they don’t work for you anymore! Huge mistake! Jon Stewart: Please don’t do this. Stephen Colbert: Here’s the thing: You said to me and to many other people here years ago never to thank you, because we owe you nothing. Jon Stewart: [quietly] That’s right. Stephen Colbert: It’s one of the few times I’ve known you to be dead wrong… We owe you because we learned from you, by example, how to do a show with intention, with clarity. How to treat people with respect. You are infuriatingly good at your job, okay? [Stewart covers his eyes, which appear to be filled with tears] And all of us who were lucky enough to work with you—and you can edit this out later—for sixteen years are better at our jobs because we got to watch you do yours. And we are better people for having known you… Personally, I do not know how this son of a poor, Appalachian turd miner—I do not know what I would do if you hadn’t brought me on this show. I’d be back in those hills, mining turds with Pappy! Jon—and it’s almost over—I know you are not asking for this, but on behalf of so many people whose lives you changed over the past sixteen years, thank you. And now, I believe your line—correct me if I’m wrong—is “We’ll be right back.

Hayden’s soft steps resume beside me, muffled and hollow sounding. “Did your dad…Is he gone?” “Died a few years ago,” I confirm. “My parents were pretty old when they had us, so it wasn’t totally unexpected, but it still sucked. Sucks.” “I’m sorry,” he says. I force a slight smile in his direction. “Thanks.” “I always feel stupid saying that,” he murmurs. “I know,” I agree, “but there’s nothing else to say. And honestly, I would say seventy percent of my friends have pretty horrible relationships with their dads, so even if I didn’t get mine as long as I wish I could have, I still feel lucky.” “You’re not obligated to,” he says quietly. “You can feel cheated, Alice.” I feel a surprising prickle at the back of my nose and a tender ache in my heart. Not just because I’m thinking about my dad, but because what Cillian said wings through my mind again: An unpleasant sort. I could never blame Cillian for having that impression, but it bothers me to think of people out there meeting Hayden Anderson and coming away with this partial view of him. He can be unpleasant. He can also be kind, and even funny. He can be clueless that you are standing right next to him, but he also might notice you being harassed from the other side of the parking lot and intercede on your behalf. “I know I can,” I finally admit. “But I’d rather think of it like this. Like it only hurts this much because he was so great.” And so much reminds me of him that in a way it’s like he’s still here. Especially here, in the Georgian summer, interviewing a woman we’d both always been fascinated by. Hayden nods to himself, but neither of us says anything for a while. We just hike along the path in companionable silence, our arms grazing every several steps, our skin slightly sticky.

My mother told me that when she knew I was traveling, she would pray that the Lord would be with me. I would finish a meeting in California and then travel straight through until I got home. She would just stay awake worrying, waiting for the telephone to ring, announcing bad news. I told her that she was wasting her time, that she might as well not pray if she was going to keep on worrying. She would pray that God would protect me, and then she would stay awake worrying. That’s the way many people act when they pray. But worry can hinder you from receiving answers to prayers. Worry can stop God from being able to move on your behalf. Thank God, prayer means more than that. John 16:24 says, “. . . ask, and ye SHALL RECEIVE, that your joy may be full.” When you pray in faith, according to God’s Word, you are full of joy and rejoicing even before the answer materializes because you know God heard you. You have His Word for it.

As the world learned of the horrors of the Nazi death camps, Pope Pius XII was widely praised for his vigorous and devoted efforts to saving Jewish lives during the war. In 1943, Chaim Weizmann, who would become the first president of Israel, wrote: “the Holy See is lending its powerful help wherever it can, to mitigate the fate of my persecuted co-religionists.”77 Moshe Sharett, soon to be Israel’s first foreign minister and second prime minister, met with the pope during the last days of the war: “I told him that my first duty was to thank him, and through him the Catholic Church, on behalf of the Jewish public for all they had done in various countries to rescue Jews.”78 Upon the pope’s death in 1958, Golda Meir, a future prime minister of Israel, noted his efforts on behalf of the Jews of Europe, calling him “a great servant of peace,”79 for it was well-known among that generation of Israelis that Pope Pius XII had made many personal efforts to protect and shelter Jews from the Nazis.

When I finally walked out into the bedroom, primped as I could hope to be at six in the morning, Marlboro Man was standing near my bed, holding the two collages in his hands and looking them over. “Oh, you’re in big trouble,” he said, holding up the collage I’d made on his behalf. “In trouble?” I smiled. “With you or Father Johnson?” “Both,” he said, lunging at me and tackling me onto the bed. “You were not supposed to do that.” I laughed and tried to wriggle loose. He tickled my ribs. I screamed. Three seconds later, when he felt I’d been adequately punished, we sat up and propped our heads against the pillows of my bed. “You did not do my homework assignment for me,” he said, grabbing the collage again and looking it over. “I had insomnia,” I said. “I needed a creative activity.” Marlboro Man looked at me, seemingly unsure of whether to kiss me, thank me…or just tickle me some more. I didn’t give him a chance. Instead I picked up the collage and took Marlboro Man on a tour so he’d be prepared for our appointment.

Behind her, Annabelle heard Daisy say to Lillian accusingly, “I thought you said that no one ever comes to this meadow!” “That’s what I was told,” Lillian replied, her voice muffled as she stepped into the circle of her gown and bent to jerk it upward. The earl, who had been mute until that point, spoke with his gaze trained studiously on the distant scenery. “Your information was correct, Miss Bowman,” he said in a controlled manner. “This field is usually unfrequented.” “Well, then, why are you here?” Lillian demanded accusingly, as if she, and not Westcliff, was the owner of the estate. The question caused the earl’s head to whip around. He gave the American girl an incredulous glance before he dragged his gaze away once more. “Our presence here is purely coincidental,” he said coldly. “I wished to have a look at the northwest section of my estate today.” He gave the word my a subtle but distinct emphasis. “While Mr. Hunt and I were traveling along the lane, we heard your screaming. We thought it best to investigate, and came with the intention of rendering aid, if necessary. Little did I realize that you would be using this field for…for…” “Rounders-in-knickers,” Lillian supplied helpfully, sliding her arms into her sleeves. The earl seemed incapable of repeating the ridiculous phrase. He turned his horse away and spoke curtly over his shoulder. “I plan to develop a case of amnesia within the next five minutes. Before I do so, I would suggest that you refrain from any future activities involving nudity outdoors, as the next passersby who discover you may not prove to be as indifferent as Mr. Hunt and I.” Despite Annabelle’s mortification, she had to repress a skeptical snort at the earl’s claim of indifference on Hunt’s behalf, not to mention his own. Hunt had certainly managed to get quite an eyeful of her. And though Westcliff’s scrutiny had been far more subtle, it had not escaped her that he had stolen a quick but thorough glance at Lillian before he had veered his horse away. However, in light of her current state of undress, it was hardly the time to deflate Westcliff’s holier-than-thou demeanor. “Thank you, my lord,” Annabelle said with a calmness that pleased her immensely. “And now, having dispensed such excellent advice, I would ask that you allow us some privacy to restore ourselves.” “With pleasure,” Westcliff growled.

When the center of gravity of life is placed, not in life itself, but in "the beyond" in nothingness then one has taken away its center of gravity altogether. The vast lie of personal immortality destroys all reason, all natural instinct henceforth, everything in the instincts that is beneficial, that fosters life and that safeguards the future is a cause of suspicion. So to live that life no longer has any meaning: this is now the "meaning" of life. Why be public spirited? Why take any pride in descent and forefathers? Why labor together, trust one another, or concern one's self about the common welfare, and try to serve it? Merely so many "temptations," so many strayings from the "straight path." " One thing only is necessary". That every man, because he has an "immortal soul," is as good as every other man; that in an infinite universe of things the "salvation" of every individual may lay claim to eternal importance; that insignificant bigots and the three fourths insane may assume that the laws of nature are constantly suspended in their behalf it is impossible to lavish too much contempt upon such a magnification of every sort of selfishness to infinity, to insolence. And yet Christianity has to thank precisely this miserable flattery of personal vanity for its triumph it was thus that it lured all the botched, the dissatisfied, the fallen upon evil days, the whole refuse and off scouring of humanity to its side. The "salvation of the soul" in plain English: "the world revolves around me." The poisonous doctrine, " equal rights for all," has been propagated as a Christian principle: out of the secret nooks and crannies of bad instinct Christianity has waged a deadly war upon all feelings of reverence and distance between man and man, which is to say, upon the first prerequisite to every step upward, to every development of civilization out of the ressentiment of the masses it has forged its chief weapons against us , against everything noble, joyous and high spirited on earth, against our happiness on earth. To allow "immortality" to every Peter and Paul was the greatest, the most vicious outrage upon noble humanity ever perpetrated. And let us not underestimate the fatal influence that Christianity has had, even upon politics! Nowadays no one has courage any more for special rights, for the right of dominion, for feelings of honorable pride in himself and his equals for the pathos of distance. Our politics is sick with this lack of courage! The aristocratic attitude of mind has been undermined by the lie of the equality of souls; and if belief in the "privileges of the majority" makes and will continue to make revolutions it is Christianity, let us not doubt, and Christian valuations, which convert every revolution into a carnival of blood and crime! Christianity is a revolt of all creatures that creep on the ground against everything that is lofty: the gospel of the "lowly" lowers.

to look at Louisa, stroked her cheek, and was rewarded by a dazzling smile. She had been surprised by how light-skinned the child was. Her features were much more like Eva’s than Bill’s. A small turned-up nose, big hazel eyes, and long dark eyelashes. Her golden-brown hair protruded from under the deep peak of her bonnet in a cascade of ringlets. “Do you think she’d come to me?” Cathy asked. “You can try.” Eva handed her over. “She’s got so heavy, she’s making my arms ache!” She gave a nervous laugh as she took the parcel from Cathy and peered at the postmark. “What’s that, Mam?” David craned his neck and gave a short rasping cough. “Is it sweets?” “No, my love.” Eva and Cathy exchanged glances. “It’s just something Auntie Cathy’s brought from the old house. Are you going to show Mikey your flags?” The boy dug eagerly in his pocket, and before long he and Michael were walking ahead, deep in conversation about the paper flags Eva had bought for them to decorate sand castles. Louisa didn’t cry when Eva handed her over. She seemed fascinated by Cathy’s hair, and as they walked along, Cathy amused her by singing “Old MacDonald.” The beach was only a short walk from the station, and it wasn’t long before the boys were filling their buckets with sand. “I hardly dare open it,” Eva said, fingering the string on the parcel. “I know. I was desperate to open it myself.” Cathy looked at her. “I hope you haven’t built up your hopes, too much, Eva. I’m so worried it might be . . . you know.” Eva nodded quickly. “I thought of that too.” She untied the string, her fingers trembling. The paper fell away to reveal a box with the words “Benson’s Baby Wear” written across it in gold italic script. Eva lifted the lid. Inside was an exquisite pink lace dress with matching bootees and a hat. The label said, “Age 2–3 Years.” Beneath it was a handwritten note:   Dear Eva, This is a little something for our baby girl from her daddy. I don’t know the exact date of her birthday, but I wanted you to know that I haven’t forgotten. I hope things are going well for you and your husband. Please thank him from me for what he’s doing for our daughter: he’s a fine man and I don’t blame you for wanting to start over with him. I’m back in the army now, traveling around. I’m due to be posted overseas soon, but I don’t know where yet. I’ll write and let you know when I get my new address. It would be terrific if I could have a photograph of her in this little dress, if your husband doesn’t mind. Best wishes to you all, Bill   For several seconds they sat staring at the piece of paper. When Eva spoke, her voice was tight with emotion. “Cathy, he thinks I chose to stay with Eddie!” Cathy nodded, her mind reeling. “Eddie showed me the letter he sent. Bill wouldn’t have known you were in Wales, would he? He would have assumed you and Eddie had already been reunited—that he’d written with your consent on behalf of you both.” She was afraid to look at Eva. “What are you going to do?” Eva’s face had gone very pale. “I don’t know.” She glanced at David, who was jabbing a Welsh flag into a sand castle. “He said he was going to be posted overseas. Suppose they send him to Britain?” Cathy bit her lip. “It could be anywhere, couldn’t it? It could be the other side of the world.” She could see what was going through Eva’s mind. “You think if he came here, you and he could be together without . . .” Her eyes went to the boys. Eva gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod, as if she was afraid someone might see her. “What about Eddie?” “I don’t know!” The tone of her voice made David look up. She put on a smile, which disappeared the

The boy, Max Rüst, will later on become a tinker, father of seven more Rüsts, he will go to work for the firm of Hallis & Co., Plumbing and Roofing, in Grünau. At the age of 52 he will win a quarter of a prize in the Prussian Class Lottery, then he will retire from business and die during an adjustment suit which he has started against the firm of Hallis & Co., at the age of 55. His obituary will read as follows: On September, suddenly, from heart-disease, my beloved husband, our dear father, son, brother, brother-in-law, and uncle, Paul Rüst, in his 55th year. This announcement is made with deep grief on behalf of his sorrowing family by Marie Rüst. The notice of thanks after the funeral will read as follows: Acknowledgment. Being unable to acknowledge individually all tokens of sympathy in our bereavement, we hereby express our profound gratitude to all relatives, friends, as well as to the tenants of No. 4 Kleiststrasse and to all our acquaintances. Especially do we thank Herr Deinen for his kind words of sympathy. At present his Max Rüst is 14 years old, has just finished public school, is supposed to call by on his way there at the clinic for the defective in speech, the hard of hearing, the weak-visioned, the weak-minded, the in-corrigible, he has been there at frequent intervals, because he stutters, but he is getting better now.

Offering thanks and singing praises to God, compels the Lord to act in our behalf, to either calm the storm to a whisper, or to give us the strength to endure the storm. Whichever He chooses, He brings us out of our distress and into His peace." Meet Him on the Mountain pg. 138.

I’m just heading back in when I spot Adnan’s father standing with all four of my guards. “Tatuma,” he greets. “I have come on behalf of the King to inquire why you are outside against his orders.” His voice is stern, but his eyes are amused. His back is to the guards, I gather the tone of his voice is more for their benefit than mine. “Orders? I had thought it was more of a suggestion. There has been a misunderstanding it seems.” I nod to the fourth guard. “Thank you for clarifying his orders at my request.” He nods back. His face is pale. I wonder what the King did to him. Adnan’s father chuckles at my maneuvre.

At this point, it may be of value to revisit the United States involvement in the rise of the “Colonels in Greece” and the Juntas in Latin America. Just after WWII, Britain and the United States intervened in the Greek civil war on behalf of the fascists against the Greek left which had successfully ousted the Nazis from Greece—a formidable feat given that Britain had intervened during WWII against the left-wing guerillas. With the help of Britain and the United States, the fascists prevailed in the post-WWII civil war in Greece and “instituted a highly brutal regime, for which the CIA created a suitably repressive internal security agency (KYP in Greek),”8 just as it had helped create the repressive SAVAK in Iran. The fascist government erected a statue of Harry S. Truman in Athens as thanks for the United States’ role in the coup under his leadership. This statue has been blown up, rebuilt, and blown up again several times. And then, much to the chagrin of both Britain and America, democracy broke out again in Greece—the country which, as we all know, invented democracy—when liberal George Papandreou was elected in 1964. Just before the 1967 elections which Papandreou was sure to win again, a joint effort of Britain, the CIA, Greek Military, KYP and US military stationed in Greece brought about a military coup which brought the fascists back to power. And, as with the Shah in Iran, the new rightist government immediately instituted “martial law, censorship, arrests, beatings, and killing, the victims totaling 8,000 in the first month. … Torture, inflicted in the most gruesome ways, often with equipment supplied by the United States, became routine.”9 Sound familiar?

The lord of the house is not at home, Your Majesty,” she informed me. “Is there anything I can do for you?” “I actually came to see Lord Steldor, if you would escort me to his room.” Now she seemed intrigued, for the reasons behind the annulment of my marriage to the former King had been kept quiet. I could read on her face her desire to eavesdrop. “Certainly, although I don’t know if His Majesty has risen.” “He has,” I said without thought. Not once during our marriage had I woken before him, and I doubted his sleep patterns had changed. With a puzzled glance, she led me up the stairs and into a hallway, stopping before the second door. She knocked on my behalf, and gave another small curtsey when Steldor’s voice invited entry. I opened the door, waiting for her to return to the first floor before entering, catching her regretful glance that she could not dally. Steldor was sitting up on the bed across the room, his legs swung over the side, pulling a shirt carefully over his head. “Should you be doing that so soon?” I asked, for it had only been a week since the lashing. The garment fell over his muscular chest, and he ran a hand through his dark hair. He came to his feet with the hint of a wince. “Making sure I’m cared for is no longer your worry. I’m not certain it ever was.” His mood was a bit dark, and I wondered if I should have given him more time to recover before paying him this visit. “Perhaps what you need is someone to keep you from coming to harm in the first place.” He smirked, turning his back to me to idly straighten his bed coverings. “What is it--did you come here to coddle me or lecture me?” “Both, I suppose.” I was frowning, amazed at how swiftly we had fallen into our old patterns. “I’ve come to talk--and to give you this.” He swiveled to face me as I removed his silver wolf’s head talisman from the pocket of my cloak. “I never expected to see that again,” he said, sounding awed. “Did you face the bitch yourself or get it from Narian?” I smiled at his word choice. “I approached Rava myself--I’ve been known to face down a bitch or two.” He stepped forward to take the pendant from my hand and immediately slipped the chain over his head. “Thank you. I feel better already.” “If you don’t mind my asking, what is the significance of the talisman? When I reclaimed it from Rava, she remarked that it might provide power and protection, and that started me thinking about its purpose.” He chuckled ruefully. “I hate to admit it, but Rava’s right. The wolf brings strength and protection. Depending on the mix of herbs and flowers put inside the talisman, other properties can be added, such as health and healing. The captain gave the pendant to me when I was four, following the death of Terek, at the time I was sent to live with Baelic and Lania. He didn’t want me to think he’d abandoned me or that I was in danger. It was originally his, and his father’s before him. I’ve worn it ever since.” “Then I’m very glad I was able to secure its return.” His eyes met mine, and the color rose in my cheeks, for I was still affected to some degree by his handsome features and soldier’s build. “I suppose that concludes the coddling,” he finally said, crossing his arms and watching me expectantly. “Yes, I suppose it does.

Now, having said that, it is true that you have been called to work. You have been called to give yourself to the work of God’s kingdom and to daily obey the commands of the King. You’ve been called to recognize that your life is no longer your own because you were bought with a price. But the work you do is never to be done in order to earn something. The work you’re called to do is to be done in celebration of something. You don’t work to earn God’s favor; rather, your work is a hymn of thanks for the favor that Christ achieved on your behalf. You don’t have to wonder if you’ve worked enough. You don’t have to fear that you’ll mess up and get booted out of the family. You don’t have to fear seeing the back of God’s head. You don’t have to be haunted by the question of whether you’ve done enough for long enough. The bridge of impossibility has been walked by Christ. The job is done. Your relationship with God is eternally secure. Now, in thankfulness, go out and do his work.

Be Thankful at All Times I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. PSALM 34:1 Some people are very thankful for every little thing that is done for them, while others are never satisfied, no matter how much is done on their behalf. Choose to be a grateful person—one filled with gratitude not only toward God, but also toward people. When someone does something nice for you, let that person know you appreciate it.

JULY 1 Be of Good Cheer In the world you have tribulation and trials and distress and frustration; but be of good cheer [take courage; be confident, certain, undaunted]! For I have overcome the world. [I have deprived it of power to harm you and have conquered it for you.] JOHN 16:33 Life in today’s world can be stressful and frustrating—but as a Christian you do not have to operate on the world’s system. Yes, you will face difficult and trying situations, but you can refuse to be agitated, disturbed, and upset (see John 14:27). Even in the midst of your problems you can be happy and confident, cheerful and courageous. Now that’s good news! When you come to the end of a tiring and frustrating day, it is good to spend time with God, thanking Him for overcoming the world on your behalf. Reflecting on His goodness will calm your spirit and prepare you for a peaceful

1974 Bangkok   On my way from London to Kuala Lumpur that summer, I stopped in Bangkok for a few days, since I had never been to Krung Thep Maha Nakhon (Bangkok in Thai). I thought it an excellent idea to visit this vibrant city, known to some as the ‘Sin City of the East’ due to its liberal stance in sexual issues.               As soon as I’d stepped out of the airport to flag a taxi to the legendary Oriental Bangkok Hotel, I was confronted by hordes of haggling Thai men jostling for my business, bargaining with me in broken English to deliver me to my luxury lodging for the best price. But just then, a suave-looking foreigner in his thirties stepped in to dissipate their heated transactions. He wasted no time to disperse all the drivers except one. The gentleman had bargained in Thai for the best price on my behalf. He spoke in German-accented English, “I’m Max. The cab driver will take us to our hotel?”               “Oh, you are also staying at the Oriental?” I chirped.               “Hop into the cab so we can get out of this madding crowd,” he expressed vehemently, opening the car door to let me in.               As soon as we were comfortably situated at the back seat, he asked, “What brings you to Thonburi, Mr.…?” He trailed off.               “I’m Young. Thank you for your assistance! It’s my first time to Bangkok. I wasn’t expecting such a rowdy welcome. If it weren’t for you, I may have landed in a Thai hospital,” I joked. “Where’s Thonburi?”               He sniggered mischievously. “Thonburi, the city of treasures gracing the ocean, is Bangkok’s official name, although some refer to it more appropriately as Meụ̄xng k̄hxng khwām s̄uk̄h kām, the city of erotic pleasures,” he quipped.               Overhearing the words Meụ̄xng k̄hxng khwām s̄uk̄h kām, the cab driver commented, “You want boy, girl or boy-girl or girl-boy? I take you to happy place!”               Max burst out in laughter. He proceeded to have a conversation in Thai with the driver. I sat, silent, since I had no idea what was being said, until my acquaintance asked, “What brings you to Bangkok?”               “I’m on vacation. What brings you to Thonburi?” I queried.               “I’m here on business, and usually stay a while for leisure,” was his response. “Since we are staying in the same hotel, we’ll see more of each other. I’m happy to show you the city,” he added.               “That’ll be wonderful. I’ll take up your offer,” I said appreciatively, glad I’d met someone to show me around.               By the time our cab pulled up at the Oriental’s entrance, we had agreed to meet for dinner the following evening.

Thank you for having us here," Carmen said. She had put on makeup, which Franny found distasteful. After all, it was only the family, and they were only having dinner. She would just have to wash it off in a few hours. Putting on makeup for this crowd, at this hour, smacked of deep-seated insecurity, which Franny had little patience for, both as a host and as Carmen's boyfriend's mother, on his behalf. Of course, Franny didn't trust anyone whose life's work was shaping other people's altoids anyway. No, Altoids for the mints. Deltoids. Still, it was nice that she was making an effort.

Never Give Up Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. LUKE 18:1 NIV Jesus told his disciples the story of a widow who pled her case to an unjust, uncompassionate judge. Though the judge didn’t care about her, she kept bringing her case to him, again and again. He finally made sure she was treated justly, simply to be rid of her. If an unmerciful judge can show mercy just to get rid of someone, how much more will our merciful God show mercy and grace and compassion? He loves us. He wants only good things for us. This doesn’t mean we need to utter countless, meaningless repetitions in order for God to act. We do, however, need to keep our faith. We need to walk in an attitude of constant prayer, knowing that God is as mindful of our needs as we are. He wants us to trust Him, and persistent prayer is one way we demonstrate that trust. When we pray, we show Him that we know He’s the One with the answer. His answers to our prayers may be delayed. They may not be the answers we want. But we must never give up on His goodness. We can trust His heart and know that in the bigger picture, His plans for us are always, always good. Dear Father, thank You for listening and acting on my behalf. I trust You, even when I don’t understand. Amen.

Give me your hand," she said, pulling at Charles's fingers. "Madam, you already have it." "Yes, but relax." "For God's sake, girl, I don't have time for this nonsense —" "Stop being such an old grouch, you have all the time in the world."  And with that she pulled him forward, and touched his outstretched fingers to the horse's soft, velvety nose. Charles froze, a look of stunned disbelief coming over his face. "Contender?" Amy and Will glanced excitedly between one another, watching, waiting, barely able to breathe. "Contender, old boy . . . is that you?" The horse began stamping impatiently, dancing in place and half-rearing in excitement, only to be brought down by Will's firm hand.  Then he whinnied and lowering his head, drove it straight into Charles's chest, rubbing up and down in delight. Charles closed his eyes, his face rigid with controlled emotion, his Adam's apple moving up, then down.  And Amy, watching this emotional scene, felt tears shimmering in her eyes, and one or two of them sliding down her cheek as Charles stood there with his horse, never moving, only murmuring softly to him as he ran his palm alongside the animal's jaw, up around his ears, and down the long, crested neck, over and over again. "Contender.  Contender, old fellow."  He continued stroking the animal's neck.  "I thought never to see you again . . .  Pray tell, Will, where did you find him?" "My uncle had him.  I went down to Woburn and brought him back for you as a surprise." "You should not have gone to such trouble on my behalf, Will." "I wanted to.  You've had such a rough time of it lately, and we all thought that having your horse back might perk you up a tad.  Besides . . . " Will looked down and began kicking at a loose hank of straw.  "It was the least I could do, after what I did to you back in Concord . . ." Charles, hearing the guilt in the boy's voice, reached out and found his shoulder.  "Will," he said gently.  "You owe me nothing.  You never have.  What happened to me at Concord was a direct result of my own actions, not yours.  You did nothing to bring on my infirmity; instead, you acted as any Christian man would, putting aside the differences between your people and mine, and doing everything in your power to help me.  Anyone else would have finished me off right there — or left me to the angry people of Concord.  You did not.  Instead, you chose to bring me home at great risk to yourself, and endeavored to save my life — for which I shall always be grateful." Will swallowed hard and looked down, both humbled and a little embarrassed by the captain's words.  "Thank you, sir."  He was still kicking at the straw with one foot, a lock of unruly brown hair falling over his brow.  "It makes me feel a whole lot better, hearing you say that." "My only regret is that it should've been said sooner.

Chapter 19 John 19:30b—He said, “It is finished!” and he bowed his head and gave up His spirit. Truth: The Lord Jesus Christ finished everything here that the Father had for Him to do. That is when He was able to voluntarily give up His spirit and complete the sacrifice that He made on our behalf. Response: Lord, thank You for the sacrifice that made it possible for me to be in a relationship with You.

Why does God offer this protection to us? Why does He offer these precious promises? Why does God never leave us alone? What attracts Him to us so much that He ordained a purpose and plan for us before we even existed? Love! He loves us more than we could ever know or even understand. His love can cast out our fears (1 John 4:18), and it is because of love that we can feel confident as we serve Him. The Word of God encourages us to “know that the LORD your God, He is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and mercy for a thousand generations with those who love Him and keep His commandments” (Deuteronomy 7:9). Bask in that love for a few minutes as we close this first week . God sees you, loves you, and will never leave you alone — let that give you confidence to go out and change your world! Our “background work” is finished! Now that we understand how it was that King Ahasuerus found himself in need of a queen, we are ready to meet our heroine: Esther! Just as God was working on Esther’s behalf a long time before anyone knew anything about her, God is working on your behalf right now — and He values you even on days when you do not feel valued by anyone! As you continue your journey with the Lord, look to Him for approval — not to the people around you! “Then she called the name of the LORD who spoke to her, You-Are-the-God-Who-Sees; for she said, ‘Have I also here seen Him who sees me?’” Genesis 16:13 Father, You truly are the God who sees me! If I allow it to, Your love will free me. Your love will free me from being bound or motivated by the opinions of the people around me... Your love will free me from quick judgements (my own or those of people around me)... Your love will free me to grow confident in the knowledge that in You I am safe. Your love will free me from worrying about consequences of my obedience to You. Your love will free me to truly become the woman of God that I know You are calling me to be — passionate, purposeful, pure... Jesus, thank You that He who the Son has set free is free indeed... You are the God who sees me, and I love You!     _____________________________________________________ 1. Matthew Henry, Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible, Volume Two (USA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1996), p. 866. 2. Esther 9:30 3. Hebrews 13:8 4. Dr. Augustus Hopkins Strong, Systematic Theology, p. 420.

Esther 1:18-19 Memucan strongly suggests a new law — a decree — to be sent out from Ahasuerus. (As upset as he is about what he considers a grave error on the part of the queen, Memucan does not want his name connected with this decision). Beyond that, he suggests that this be written into the laws of the Persians AND the Medes. Translation: this law can never be reversed. What is this decree? That, as an example to all the women in the combined kingdoms of Persia and Media, Vashti should lose her crown and be banished from the king forever. Memucan communicates to Ahasuerus that another woman should take her place in the palace. He tells the king, “let the king give her position to one who is better than she” v. 19. This is all pretty bold on the part of Memucan, especially considering that he is talking about Ahasuerus’ wife. Memucan seems pretty emotional about this issue, and he’s not the only one acting out of his emotions. Tomorrow we will learn Ahasuerus’ decision, and Vashti’s fate.   Before we close our lesson today, thank God that those “emotional moments” in your own life have not also been your defining moments. Remember that your salvation isn’t a decision — it’s a lifestyle! God is daily working out the best on your behalf as you are daily faithful to Him!

JANUARY 31 Never Give Up Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. LUKE 18:1 NIV Jesus told his disciples the story of a widow who pled her case to an unjust, uncompassionate judge. Though the judge didn’t care about her, she kept bringing her case to him, again and again. He finally made sure she was treated justly, simply to be rid of her. If an unmerciful judge can show mercy just to get rid of someone, how much more will our merciful God show mercy and grace and compassion? He loves us. He wants only good things for us. This doesn’t mean we need to utter countless, meaningless repetitions in order for God to act. We do, however, need to keep our faith. We need to walk in an attitude of constant prayer, knowing that God is as mindful of our needs as we are. He wants us to trust Him, and persistent prayer is one way we demonstrate that trust. When we pray, we show Him that we know He’s the One with the answer. His answers to our prayers may be delayed. They may not be the answers we want. But we must never give up on His goodness. We can trust His heart and know that in the bigger picture, His plans for us are always, always good. Dear Father, thank You for listening and acting on my behalf. I trust You, even when I don’t understand. Amen.

I’m sorry on behalf of my friend.” I tried to smile. “Doesn’t count, but the effort gets an A plus.” “My first ever,” he told me, making me laugh. “You weren’t a good student?” I asked. “Not even a bit. More interested in the extracurriculars, if you catch my drift,” he told me, wagging his brows. “I’ll have nothing of yours that’s catching, thank you.” “That was a burn if I’ve ever had one.” “Does it? Burn, that is?” I gestured toward his nether regions with a toss of my head. He laughed wholeheartedly.

Paul’s prayer is a model or pattern for all believers to follow. Like his prayers here and elsewhere, our prayers should include praise as well as petitions. To the Philippians Paul wrote, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (Phil. 4:6). In 1 Timothy 2:1 he urged that “entreaties and prayers, petitions and thanksgivings, be made on behalf of all men.” Later he told the Colossians to “devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving” (Col. 4:2). Paul constantly gave thanks in his prayers

She rolled her eyes. “Thank you so much for interfering on my behalf.” “You don’t need me to rescue you.” “It still would have been nice.” “You can fight your own battles.” He pointed with his sword to the weapons rack.

So Christ’s death on our behalf paid the price to redeem us. On that basis, God forgave our sins, granted us an inheritance, delivered us from the power of darkness, and made us subjects of Christ’s kingdom. Those wonderful truths should cause us to give thanks to God continually, as did Paul in his prayer. And when we contemplate all He has done for us, how can we do any less than pray to be filled with the knowledge of His will?

Will We Become Angels? I’m often asked if people, particularly children, become angels when they die. The answer is no. Death is a relocation of the same person from one place to another. The place changes, but the person remains the same. The same person who becomes absent from his or her body becomes present with the Lord (2 Corinthians 5: 8). The person who departs is the one who goes to be with Christ (Philippians 1: 23). Angels are angels. Humans are humans. Angels are beings with their own histories and memories, with distinct identities, reflected in the fact that they have personal names, such as Michael and Gabriel. Under God’s direction, they serve us on Earth (Hebrews 1: 14). Michael the archangel serves under God, and the other angels, in various positions, serve under Michael (Daniel 10: 13; Revelation 12: 7). In Heaven human beings will govern angels (1 Corinthians 6: 2-3). The fact that angels have served us on Earth will make meeting them in Heaven particularly fascinating. They may have been with us from childhood, protecting us, standing by us, doing whatever they could on our behalf (Matthew 18: 10). They may have witnessed virtually every moment of our lives. Besides God himself, no one could know us better. What will it be like not only to have them show us around the intermediate Heaven but also to walk and talk with them on the New Earth? What stories will they tell us, including what really happened that day at the lake thirty-five years ago when we almost drowned? They’ve guarded us, gone to fierce battle for us, served as God’s agents in answer to prayers. How great it will be to get to know these brilliant ancient creatures who’ve lived with God from their creation. We’ll consult them as well as advise them, realizing they too can learn from us, God’s image-bearers. Will an angel who guarded us be placed under our management? If we really believed angels were with us daily, here and now, wouldn’t it motivate us to make wiser choices? Wouldn’t we feel an accountability to holy beings who serve us as God’s representatives? Despite what some popular books say, there’s no biblical basis for trying to make contact with angels now. We’re to ask God, not angels, for wisdom (James 1: 5). As Scripture says and as I portray in my novels Dominion, Lord Foulgrin’s Letters, and The Ishbane Conspiracy, Satan’s servants can “masquerade as servants of righteousness” and bring us messages that appear to be from God but aren’t (2 Corinthians 11: 15). Nevertheless, because Scripture teaches that one or more of God’s angels may be in the room with me now, every once in a while I say “Thank you” out loud. And sometimes I add, “I look forward to meeting you.” I can’t wait to hear their stories. We won’t be angels, but we’ll be with angels—and that’ll be far better. Will We Have Emotions? In Scripture, God is said to enjoy, love, laugh, take delight, and rejoice, as well as be angry, happy, jealous, and glad. Rather than viewing these actions and descriptors as mere anthropomorphisms, we should consider that our emotions are derived from God’s. While we should always avoid creating God in our image, the fact remains we are created in his. Therefore, our emotions are a reflection of and sometimes (because of our sin) a distortion of God’s emotions. To be like God means to have and express emotions. Hence, we should expect that in Heaven

Standing up, I promptly scream as what feels like a pound of wet sand falls out of my bikini bottoms. It must have worked itself in there while we were sitting in the sea. “Hahahaha!” Paige cracks up laughing. “It looks like you pooed yourself!” “Yes, thanks, Paige--” “It really does! It totally looks like you--” “Thanks, I think we all get the point!” I dash into the sea as fast as I can, more gobs of wet sand tumbling down my legs, looking and feeling almost exactly like--well, like poo. When I’m waist-deep, I pull the bottoms down and shake and scrape out a big handful of sand. Without any hesitation, I throw it directly at Paige. To my great satisfaction, it lands bang in her cleavage. “Hey! You have poo on your boobs!” I say happily. “Aah!” Taking this in the spirit in which it’s meant, Paige scoops it out and hurls it back at me. I jump back, giggling, as she crab walks deeper into the sea, stands up, and starts fishing handfuls of sand out of her own bottoms to throw at me. We’re both laughing now, not aiming to hurt or hit the other one in the face, just letting off steam, and it feels wonderful. The stress, the tension, the perpetual worrying about who I am fade away; I realize that negotiating with Paige on Kelly’s behalf has helped too. Remember this, I tell myself. Looking after other people. Visiting somewhere new. Splashing around in the sea, throwing wet sand at another girl’s boobs as you both scream with laughter. These are all really good ways to distract yourself from freaking out about things you can’t do anything about. Up above, on his tower, the lifeguard’s standing up and looking down at us, hands on his hips. Laughing too. “Vai bionda!” he’s calling. “Go blondie!” Paige hears it too, and understands--she’s called “bionda” here so much it might as well be her name. Turning around, she waves at him flirtatiously, which distracts her enough that I can bend down into the waves, grab a fresh handful of wet sand, and chuck it so it splatters all over her back. She screams, the lifeguard laughs harder, and people look in our direction, Paige hamming it up hugely, loving the attention. Boys start drifting over; she’s a magnet, and she adores it.

if in the end many remain unsaved then “it will demonstrably follow, that Adam has done more hurt than Christ has done good; and consequently, that the race of men have more reason for complaint on behalf of his disobedience, than they have for thankfulness on account of Christ’s obedience

back to the border with Belarus. Though he would have liked to have gotten some sleep, he kept his eyes open and his head on a swivel the entire way. When they met up with the Old Man’s smugglers and said their good-byes, he thanked her. She had taken a lot of risks on his behalf and he wanted her to know how much he appreciated it. Without her, this could have very well turned into a suicide operation. Climbing into the smuggler’s truck, he made himself comfortable for his next six hours of driving to the border with Poland. There, he’d at least be back in NATO territory, though he couldn’t let his guard down. At least not fully. It wasn’t until he was back on The Carlton Group jet and in the air that the weight of everything he had been under started to lift. Once he was in international airspace, he got up and poured himself a drink. Returning to his seat, he raised the glass and toasted the Old Man. He hoped that somewhere, up there, Reed was proud of him. As he sat there, sipping his bourbon, Harvath conducted a mental after-action report. He went over every single detail, contemplating what he could have done differently, and where appropriate, what he could have done better. Once his review was complete, he went through all of it again, looking for anything that might identify Alexandra, or tie her directly to him. Fortunately, there was nothing he could come up with to be worried about. From Josef’s hospital where she had avoided the cameras and had stayed bundled up, to the interaction with Minayev’s mistress where she had worn the balaclava, and finally to the security guards at Misha’s loft where she had been wearing a dark wig and heavy makeup while making sure to never face the cameras, she had been the perfect partner. Even outside on Moscow’s streets, she had made sure they stayed in the shadows. Alexandra, thinking of everything, had taken down the telephone number of the management company for the building where they had left the hospital worker tied up. She had promised to phone in either a noise complaint or some sort of anonymous tip, so that the man would be found and cut loose. He didn’t know how she planned to get the envelopes

In the beginning, the all-powerful, personal God created the universe. This God created human beings in His image to live joyfully in His presence, in humble submission to His gracious authority. But all of us have rebelled against God and, in consequence, must suffer the punishment of our rebellion: physical death and the wrath of God. Thankfully, God initiated a rescue plan, which began with His choosing the nation of Israel to display His glory in a fallen world. The Bible describes how God acted mightily on Israel’s behalf, rescuing His people from slavery and then giving them His holy law. But God’s people—like all of us—failed to rightly reflect the glory of God. Then, in the fullness of time, in the Person of Jesus Christ, God Himself came to renew the world and restore His people. Jesus perfectly obeyed the law given to Israel. Though innocent, He suffered the consequences of human rebellion by His death on a cross. But three days later, God raised Him from the dead. Now the church of Jesus Christ has been commissioned by God to take the news of Christ’s work to the world. Empowered by God’s Spirit, the church calls all people everywhere to repent of sin and to trust in Christ alone for our forgiveness. Repentance and faith restores our relationship with God and results in a life of ongoing transformation. The Bible promises that Jesus Christ will return to this earth as the conquering King. Only those who live in repentant faith in Christ will escape God’s judgment and live joyfully in God’s presence for all eternity. God’s message is the same to all of us: repent and believe, before it is too late. Confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, and you will be saved.

Never mind that,” Foreg replied, and he waved his hand dismissively. “We have just the thing. We’ll see to the necessary supplies as soon as we return to Aurum.” “That’s really not necessary, Elder Foreg--” “Nonsense,” he cut in. “We owe you greatly, Defender Flynt. Not only for ensuring the tariffs were properly opposed, but for speaking so loyally on our behalf. You showed great integrity on the matter, and we thank you for upholding your dedication to Orebane. Not ten in ten hundred would speak as you did this past evening.” “Nor would they tell a baron to fuck off in front of their own king,” Dogra muttered, and he sent me a grin that bore a striking resemblance to Dorinick’s. “I’m still getting the hang of this nobility thing,” I admitted as I rubbed my neck.

His answers to our prayers may be delayed. They may not be the answers we want. But we must never give up on His goodness. We can trust His heart and know that in the bigger picture, His plans for us are always, always good. Dear Father, thank You for listening and acting on my behalf. I trust You, even when I don’t understand. Amen.