Is that You, Lord?

Got a lot on the go this coming week, but that's okay. The weekend just past was totally chill. The weekend ahead is full of possibilities.

I'll be sharing in a collective enrichment opportunity with the women of Kingsfield Zurich Mennonite Church at their Ladies' Retreat Friday and Saturday, talking about how we hear God's voice in our everyday lives. And I don't say that flippantly. It's an often misunderstood experience prone to extremes. But of course that's the substance of the sessions.

Looking forward to spending time with Poppy Gascho Barrett Price (my host) and also Norma Metzger (my traveling companion). And of course the women who have set aside this time to pursue God more robustly....just the kind of folks I love to learn from.

Happy Monday everyone.

When You Wake Up So Very Early on a Sunday Morning

 

In repentance and rest is your salvation,

in quietness and trust is your strength,

but you would have none of it.

Isaiah 30:15

We're getting such a small dose of things here in our region.  The bigger storm is north and east of us, and from the reports and pictures, it's much more of a thing for them.  Lots of people without power this morning.

I, on the other hand, am in the enviable position of waking up in a warm, lit house, taking pretty pictures off my front porch, and anticipating a Sunday morning service that is still on.  The nature of my weekend is unusually low key, in that I have absolutely no responsibilities, no meetings, nothing I need to 'show up' for, other than being present within my community to worship together.  

Because I'm an early riser normally, and because I slept so well last night (yay for jet lag's departure), I am up and dressed and ready to roll by 6 a.m.  Our fairly recent move to having only one vehicle means I am not free to head over to the church whenever I like.  Today, by mutual agreement, we aren't leaving until much later than I'm used to.  And that's okay.

It's been a bit of a week.  These days, there's always 'the news.'  And on Friday there were those anxious moments between hearing 'the news' about the earthquake in Thailand, and hearing from beloveds there that they are okay.  Then there was the 'keep an eye on it' set back following a root canal procedure on Monday. Some pressing deadlines thrown in.  And all tolled, it was enough to make me more cautious about how I'm expending my energies, and grateful I had the foresight to clear off the calendar to make space for this first full week back. 

Yesterday was truly a treat; the first Saturday in I don't know how long where neither Ken nor I had anything booked except for taking care of the 'domestics' (so much easier and quicker in our new little house) and continuing with some smaller items on the house list (eg. finally looked after all those loose wires in the corner!).  

This morning has a similar feel.  And this afternoon, after church, we can just come home and hunker down.  Perhaps a game of Scrabble?  

I'm lingering in it.  Unhurried.  Listening.  Paying attention in the lull of it.  Enjoying it.  And I realize, in these moments, I think, maybe, I'm finally starting to grow in this.

I am mindful of a text I have posted often before, so I stop and insert it at the beginning here, underneath the picture.  

It's a go to.  A centering text.  Even with, especially with the rebuke at the end.  And I think, maybe, I'm learning.  At least I hope so.  In the past these pockets of nothing-time made me antsy.  I would be having none of it.  Especially on a Sunday morning, but here I'll give myself slack because that's decades of conditioning I'm having to unlearn.  

Yet this morning I'm finding a mindfulness, an attentiveness in the space.  Another way to prepare for worship.  

Good gifts, these unhurried spaces, when you wake up so very early on a Sunday morning.

That Nasty Foot Washing Business

 

Photo by Dave Driver

"When he had finished washing their feet,

He put on His regular clothes and returned to His place.

'Do you understand what I have done for you?' He asked them?

John 13:12

One way of reading the Bible is to simply stop when something catches your attention.  This morning, as I picked up the passion week narrative in John 13, this is where I landed.  Jesus asks what seems to be an impossible question.  Worse.  As I read, I hear Him ask it of me.  Worse than that.  I'm pretty sure He's asking because of something that's muttering about in my soul right now.

I know the story well.  Jesus catches them all off guard by dressing as a servant and then performing the lowliest of tasks in that culture.  Feet got dirty in ways ours don't get.  I catch a glimpse of this when visiting places in Thailand where animals and people walk around on the same ground.  Even just the dust combined with the open sandals makes for a distasteful mess, let alone whatever else might get inadvertently stepped in.  In that room with Jesus that evening, it should have been the lowest ranking slave that got the job of washing feet.

And that's what Jesus became for them, in that moment.  

Almighty God, washing remnants of animal dung off the dusty feet of His friends.  

"Do you understand what I have done for you?"

Clearly I don't.  Otherwise I would not get so slighted when I feel I have been disrespected.  I would not narrow my eyes and pull myself back ever so slightly when it's clear that my contributions are being dismissed.  I would not be tempted to withhold good graces when good graces have been withheld from me.  

If I truly understood what Jesus has done for me in stooping to this level, I would be more quick to take on the towel myself.  Happily.

It's been said that you only know for certain if you have a servant's heart by how you respond when someone treats you like one.

How grateful I am for His example.  And the example of His servants who have understood, and have offered me their servant's heart so stunningly.  May I stay faithful to the Spirit's process within me, and be willing to be formed into His likeness, a little more every day.  Yes, Lord.. I do want this.  And thank You for pushing pause on the mutterings of my heart.

These are the meditations of someone imperfectly limping towards Lent.  

Late to Lent

There's something about traveling across time zones that messes with that whole 'what day is it?' fog. For me, by now, it seems crazy that it's already been a whole week since my return. Yet here we are.

Good thing I had cleared my calendar, more or less, because it's been full enough, what with the general unpacking and trip follow up, an out of town Regional Meeting with Anchor, distributing Sponsors' thanks yous, checking in with grandkids, a Steve Bell concert Sunday evening, root canal on Monday, and a little flare up revisit to the specialist yesterday. (Nothing a course of antibiotics and salt water rinses won't take care of.)

I confess that in my eagerness to step back into regular routines, and the anticipation of some exciting speaking engagements in the next few weeks, I have almost lost sight of the Lenten season we are currently observing in that broader sense of the church calendar.

A small wooden cross, a gift from Yupa as I was leaving, helps reorient me. I seek some inspiration and insight from the prophet.

"...the punishment that brought us peace was on Him."
Isaiah 53:5

In a world where peace seems so illusive, I feel the need to just leave these words be.

Except to say that they add to the growing weight of gratitude piling up inside of me

this first week back.

Positive Pacing

Because I've been asked for one, I conscripted Ken this afternoon to help me get a head shot.  I took a risk taking the pictures today.  Afterall, I'm still only three days post-long-haul-flight, and I was afraid it would show.

But actually, with the natural lighting, I ended up with this, and...well...I think Ken did a pretty good job considering what he had to work with.   It's saying something if he could actually capture something I think is fairly decent, since I'm probably one of the least photogenic people I know.

And...well...there's the jet lag.

Up until now, I've been saying that it doesn't matter how often I do the trip, the jet lag is the same.  As if I had hoped that if after putting my body through the 12 hour time warp often enough over these past sixteen years it would sort of say, "Oh this again.  Okay, got this."  But it didn't seem to be working that way.

Except these last two trips I've actually found myself fairly quick to readjust.  Still just a skitch woozy at certain points in the day, and I'm going to hold to my personal rule of no driving after 12 noon for the first week.  But overall, I'm sleeping well, have close to normal times of feeling hungry, and have been able to stay awake fairly cheerfully until 9 p.m.    

Not sure why, really.  Maybe it's being more conscientious about my hydration before, during, and after the plane ride.  Maybe my expectations are just more realistic by now.  Maybe I'm more used to what it feels like and therefore better able to take it in stride, work with it instead of fight against it.  Most likely, it's because the demands of my ministry life here in Canada are vastly different than they were before, and I can give myself a bit more space to readjust instead of having to hit the ground running.  For instance, I arrived back on Wednesday and don't have to preach this Sunday.  

Whatever the reason, I'm grateful.  Especially as I face another annoying disruption next week; my very first root canal.  Yay.  [I likely won't be taking any pictures of any of that.]

There's lots of good and joyful work to keep me occupied right now, no question.  Following up on some of the planning and logistics from our good conversations when I was at Hot Springs.  Connecting with our beloved Sponsors and Supporters.  Budget and other administrative logistics.  Preparing for two significant speaking assignments in the next few weeks.  All of it energizes me as I map it all out these first days back.  

But I'm finding my approach, my spirit to be steady, relaxed, non-anxious.  My time away was so very restorative on so many levels, and I'm just as happy to bring that into these next months of life and ministry.  Happy to skip some of the jet lag.  Eager to step into Spring.

So here's to a good return, to pacing it out, to mini photo shoots that end up okay, and to a long quiet Saturday afternoon to just be home.
 

Lovely Last Day

It's always a bonus when the last few days can be a bit more on the chill side.  It just puts me in the best space mentally and physically to be able to say the hard goodbye and then make the long journey home.

It's been like that mostly all weekend, and spilling into today.  Most of the children have gone back to their families for summer break right now.  A few are lingering because they are part of a tag on event at the high school, and a few just haven't had their folks come for them quite yet.  It makes for a smaller group with a school's-done-and-it's-getting-hotter-each-day kind of vibe.  

Because I have been able to do the major part of packing already, even with an initial weighing of my suitcase, today was open for some things I had really hoped to be able to do before I left.  Not urgent or important, but just icing on the cake sorts of things.

We started with a last mini meeting, more of a conversation really, tying up a few items from our Management Committee Meeting earlier, and making sure we all understood some next steps in moving forward with some important tasks.  

After that we were over at Hot Springs park where we all had a Thai massage.  If this sounds luxurious, you might consider how inexpensive this is, and how helpful it is to get limbered up and stretched out before sitting on an airplane for 5 hours then 14 hours.  Honest, it makes a difference, and - like I said, icing on the cake - I am grateful we were able to do this.  

But the real treat was getting a hair cut.

Like everyone, I'm trying to be frugal in these days of economic uncertainty.  So when I can get a good hair cut here for about $10, and I go quite short and a bit more of a blunt edge bob so it will last me a long while once I get home, that just makes sense.

I've been coming to the same salon for about three years now, a tiny shop out of the way that you'd never in a million years expect to be off the dirt road in this little village, let alone find it even if you knew about it.  I love it because I get a very good cut (right Karen Bowman?), and I can support an independent Thai businesswoman at the same time.

We all took a turn.  And then I asked for a picture, so here we are in all our new hair glory.  

I highly doubt this will be my last post before leaving.  I still have all tomorrow morning.  My flight doesn't leave until 3:20 p.m. and we will head out to the airport immediately following lunch.  I'm still downloading and sorting pictures, so who knows what might show up on my feed, Monday night Canadian time?

For now, I'm just grateful for an easy, fun, massage and hair cut day to round out what has unquestionably been a fabulous visit all around.  

Also, I'm curious about my 9 hour layover in Seoul.  Always an adventure.

 

About the Monkeys

I'm trying to remember where and why I've grown up believing monkeys are rather tame and sweet and entertaining.  Early visits to the circus, perhaps?  TV shows that featured a mischievous but harmless chimpanzee?  Curious George?  Not sure.  But it's okay, because I'm cured of that notion now.

Sure, the little ones are adorable.  And there's something fascinating about how human-like much of the monkey movements can be, especially with the hands.  But there's something that immediately puts you on the wary side of things when a feature of the attraction is that they lend you long sticks.  Just in case.  

Despite my first anxious anticipation, however, we didn't really come across too many monkeys right away.  This is a Buddhist shrine against a sheer cliff that drops down from a rather dense part of the jungle.  

There was a cave as well, but it was closed.  Many in the region no longer operate as a tourist spot since twelve Thai boys were trapped in one, not far from here, in 2018, as you might remember.  I was fine with that, but it did seem then that the monkeys were basically all that was left to see.  If we could see them.

We strolled over to a pool where some large and colourful fish helped decorate the place a bit.  But there were maybe two monkeys over at that spot.

Never mind.  Just a short walk over closer to the cliff and we found them.  Hundreds of them!  They're the same colour as the rock face and very well camouflaged.  Until the food shows up.  That's when they just all start coming down off the crevasses and trees and you realize how many of them have been watching you all this time.

Here's where the sticks come in handy.  And here's where my nonchalant stroll on the Skyway yesterday was replaced by me being a scardy-monkey today.  Bell, Suradet and Yupa were all quite fine with going right up to the woman with the food and paying the 10 baht for a pail.  I'm like, no thanks.  I don't see this as ending well.

You know how these things work.  What starts out as a sweet gesture towards semi-wild animals at an attraction, ends up being a little more than you anticipated.  I have a deer-at-Marineland story too!  And like the deer, the monkeys came running.  And not only that, they were quite territorial, and, sorry to say, hope I don't offend anyone, greedy and nasty!

Okay, so the video doesn't really capture the full extent of the drama.  It wasn't until we were done with the feeding that the attendant told us that there are about four different groups of monkeys with about 100 members each and all with a dominant male leader.  It was the snarling and growling and chasing and baring of teeth that bothered me a little.  I think I was walking away fast, rather than trying to capture that on video.  Honest.  You'll just have to believe me.

But maybe it won't be too hard.  Because, doesn't history kind of tell the same story for the more "superior" primates?  If I'm honest, it was more than just the hand movements that made this seem so human like.  Made me want to be extra careful of my own tendencies to get nasty, especially now, when global affairs have the potential of pitting us all against each other.  

It was all fine in the end.  We came out unscathed.  No one got bit, and no one had their purse stolen (another thing they warn you about when you go in).  And I'm glad we went.  Made a memory.  

And perhaps a cautious reminder to my own soul about keeping things real, and keeping things kind.

Redemptive Moon

 

Pinkish full moon over Hot Springs in the pre-dawn moments.
A quiet start to this last Sunday for me as this visit slows down into the last three days.

I will attempt to teach a sermon this morning in Thai, so prayers appreciated. The only thing that matters is that these good people are encouraged, and the message is clear. Our only logical response to God's amazing grace is to worship Him with everything we've got. Grateful always, in any context, for the delicate interpretation of the Holy Spirit on each heart.

To all those who in any way by any means support what we do here, I cannot possibly ever, in any meaningful measurement, express my gratitude. This is God's heart, to act against injustice and poverty, to make equal pathways and provide open opportunities for those who otherwise would languish. You are doing something so important, so pro-active, so full of agency and action!

The world may or may not be in chaos. There may or may not be anything we can do about most of it. But here, we can do everything about some of it.

And a quiet moon rises over a place of redemption and hope.

Answers to Prayer We Don't Like But then We Do

 There are some really beautiful pictures in my file of Singha Park, but I'll get to that in a second.  But for now, take a look at these high powered 'industrial' water sprinklers.  They're important to this story.

For reference, Singha Park is a large and sprawling family attraction close to Chiang Rai that covers 12.8 square kilometers of gardens, lakes and beautiful natural landscapes.  

To make it possible to cover all that the park has to offer, folks rent golf carts, which I am pretty sure was Suradet's favourite part of the time there, just by the way he was giggling as he drove us around.

The day was getting hotter as we took in the various stops, and I was glad for my large bottle of water and my hat.  Still, here we were on our long planned for Chiang Rai excursion, and I did not want to spoil anything but another little episode of dehydration.  

We stopped to feed the zebras, laughing at their teeth.  And said hello to the small animals in the mini zoo.

Of course you have to take a picture with the yellow flowers.   And under the sign.

A lot of it was out in the wide open, and even with a very light cotton dress and my sun hat, I was really feeling it.  I started praying some of those little whisper prayers you pray when you're just staying connected with God as you go along in a slightly distressed kind of way.  Nothing huge.  We were having fun.  But I really wanted to NOT get so hot that I stopped us from doing so.  So I was just keeping it open to let Him know.  

"Thanks for this amazing time, this beautiful day.  Please keep me in the okay zone so we can keep on making these good memories.  But whatever, Lord.  You're in charge.  Up to You."  That sort of thing.

Bell sat down on a large rock thinking it would be good for a photo shoot.

Personally, I was ready to get going, because at least on the golf cart there was something of a breeze.  But this delay was actually quite perfect, timewise.  Because the picture-taking had to stop because the large sprinklers were coming around.  At first just a small spray over the rocks, enough to get us moving.  But when we got in the golf cart and started to drive off, the spray followed us.  And it got stronger and more.  And I was sitting on the sprinkler side.  And Suradet tried to out run it, but this was a golf cart after all.  

The water kept coming at us, on that side of the cart.  And each time it was a bit more, and then more, and then a complete and totally soaking to the skin, all down my right side from my shoulders to my feet.  Because of the sunroof on the cart this did not drench my hair.  I'm vain enough to mention this.  But the rest of me?  At least all on that side of me?  Completely soaked.  

It was hilarious fun.  We were all screaming at the water kept coming at us, and everyone got a little wet.  But I got the brunt of it.

And then I realized something.  It had totally cooled me off!  My body temperature was so much lower now!  And the added benefit of the breeze from driving in the cart only made it better.  And for the rest of the time at the park, I was pleasantly damp in the best kind of way.

I don't know about you, but sometimes I think God is kind of fun.  I truly and totally believe He would go to the kind of trouble to work out that dousing for me, given He already cares enough about me to know the number of hairs on my head (Matthew 10:26-31), and also how fussy I am about how it dries without styling.  

And it also occurs to me that sometimes the answers we're after come to us in surprising ways.  Sometimes it's messy.  Not what we were expecting at all.  But okay in the end.  

None of this is to simplify the more complicated ways we often experience God's answers to prayer, or our perception of the absence of them.  Life is more complex than a fun soaking on a hot day.  But sometimes, sometimes I feel His presence in such loving playful ways like this.  And I think that's okay.

Hydration Meditation

O God, you are my God.

Earnestly I seek You,

my soul thirsts for You, 

my body longs for You

in a dry and weary land 

where there is no water.

Psalm 63:1

A truly appreciated feature of this particular time at Hot Springs is how very well and strong and rested I've felt (almost) the whole time I've been here.  

[Pause here to take a long swig from my water bottle.]

It can be a thing, the physicality of the whole deal.  I mean, just the travel itself, walking literally kilometers in airports just to get to your gate, just so you can then sit for more hours than is recommended for one's general well-being and circulation.  My wrist watch gizmo thinks it's funny, telling me that I've been sitting for too long.  Ya think?  All the while hurtling your body through all those time zones.

[Pause for another drink of water.]

Then when you get here there's he different food, and the potential for picking up little microscopic friends that want to help your gut clean house, so to speak.  Insect bites can sometimes cause a bigger reaction than at home, not sure why.  And well, there's being done in by the heat.  Once I actually passed out, in a public setting no less, and required a trip to a clinic to check things out.  And then there was the time when my appendix decided to rupture a mere three weeks before an intended visit (ahem...summer of 2024), and that was fun.  In the 16 years I've been travelling here, one to three times per year, I've experienced the gamut more or less.  

But over that time, appendix not withstanding, I've adapted and adjusted and pretty much know how to better keep myself well and strong and rested.  Hint:  It has a LOT to do with accepting the rhythms of a tropical environment and laying low in the afternoon heat.  It seems to be working.

[Another swig.]

The quick bounce back from jet lag, jumping right in with my Thai appetite, and the clarity of mind and spirit I've enjoyed right out of the gate has made this particular visit memorable in the 'how's my body handling this?' department.  By the way, this is something I ask more and more as I head towards my 70th birthday (2027).

I did have a quick 12 hour stint with dehydration the other day though.  It was short-lived, but a potent reminder of how much I have to keep my fluid intake in mind.  All the time.  Every day. 

[Oh yeah.  Water.]

We were out in the sun for a bit.  Not long at all.  Just the walk from the overflow parking to where the graduation ceremony was taking place at the school where Chalon and Atom were marking their moments.  Chalon has completed high school.  Atom grade 9, which is the end of middle school here.  I had water with me, but the morning had started out so nice and cool, and it didn't even seem that hot yet.  Plus, I was taken with the goings on, the spaces all set up for photo shoots, and the different ways a graduate is celebrated here, with pop up booths all along the path to purchase flowers and bouquets of candy and lanyards attached to messages of congratulations.  Students were handing out little thank you packets, tying strings around each others' wrists, and taking pictures.  So many pictures.

I had my hat with me, which I needed, but it also made it awkward for hugging.  You don't really give good hugs if you think your hat is going to tumble off the back of your head, I find.  Never mind. 

Maybe time to take another sip of water.  Oh, more pictures.  And let's go check out that one booth.  And here are a group of friends who want to give something to Chalon.  And it all takes its own time.  That was the morning.  Out for a quick lunch, then back home.

I noticed something was amiss when I woke up from my afternoon rest with difficulty.  Really had to haul myself up and out of bed to prepare for the children to come by after school, which is part of the lovely rhythm of things on a normal day.  And that brought me out into the warmer middle room of the guest house.  And I knew then I just needed to drink more water.  Lots more. 

[Drinking again.] 

Evening worship was....okay.  The heat had cranked up by now, and I wasn't feeling quite myself.  I had a rather energetic song (Your Everlasting Love) on tap for our time together, but I switched it out to Lion Hunt instead, because for that one I can stay in a chair, and anyways Goon had put in his request that very same morning, so.

Good news is that most of what I would call my recovery time happened overnight, so it didn't really interrupt the flow of my responsibilities here.

Bad news is that I had a rough night.

It all turned around by mid morning the next day.  No harm, no foul.  Back to my normal appetite and energies.  And last night, we did do Your Everlasting Love (I keep waiting for it to lose its appeal, but we keep getting new children so....).

[Just remembering all the jumping and actions of the song really calls for a drink.]

But back to that bad night for a moment.  Dehydration like that is far more than just feeling thirsty.  It almost goes cellular.  Feels desperate.  Cognitively, I know what's going on and what to do about it.  But my body is telling my nervous system that something is wrong, and the 'eeerrrggghhh' of that (wish I could record the sound effects here) is kind of intense.  Almost impossible to relax into that space.  And one glass of water doesn't fix it.

At the risk of ending this post on a rather obvious note, I can't help but make the comparison to times when I've let myself get spiritually dehydrated.  Sneaks up on you.  Can make you feel desperate.  Problem is, it's harder, maybe not as easy to figure out what's wrong.  Our autonomic nervous systems don't necessarily kick into place quite as automatically.  And sometimes I can take a whole lot longer than 12 hours to make things right.  

[Longer pause to finish off the bottle.]

And while I believe that, just by virtue of capacity, our humanity will always feel more than a bit desperate for God as the psalmist describes, its vital to make sure we don't let our spirits dry out.

And here I feel the temptation to launch into a description of all the nourishing, life-giving practices that have hydrated my soul over the years; the favourite ones, the ones that I don't prefer but are really good for me, the daily, frequent intake of all that God has to offer.

But maybe another time.

Tonight we're having a party to celebrate the end of the school year.   The children's Sponsors all contributed, and we're going all out!

I'll just be sure to drink lots of water.

Doodles for Peace

Finally, my brothers and sisters,

whatever is true, whatever is right, whatever is noble,

whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable --

whatever is is excellent or worthy of praise,

think on these things.

And the peace of God will be with you.

Philippians 4:8-9

I'd forgotten about the calming power of the pencil crayon doodle combo.  

We are colouring together, the children and I, a little bit after school, after all the homework is done.  Some are on the porch with a puzzle, and others are batting around the Canadian balloons we found in one of the bins.  But several of us have settled into a quiet way of being together, just doodling and colouring.

 

Just on my own, without any indication to the children whatsoever, I experimented with a word doodle connecting the letters with hearts by a series of parallel lines, some straight some wavy, and all for fun.  I'm not even paying that much attention, to be honest, until I glance over at Jua beside me and realize he is using my doodle as a pattern.  Tharit too.

But each with their own flair, their own chosen medium.  Because markers are cool too.

I say nothing, but realize that I am feeling inexplicably amused and pleased about this.  Can't help smiling on their interest and concentration and imitation.  We keep doodling, Jua and Tharit and I.  Across the table Beemai is creating something that will later demonstrate a big step in her own creative expression.  So much colour!

I am aware of the puzzle-makers' voices just outside, as they negotiate who is doing the edge pieces.  And of the dogs barking, and of the sounds of birds I couldn't name.  And the fan, because the room is warm, but not too much so.  All is quiet otherwise.  

I am fully in this moment.

Unexpectedly, I am singing a lullaby I sang over my own children and grandchildren. 

"Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine, 

I'll taste your strawberries and drink your sweet wine.  

A million tomorrows will all pass away, 

'ere I forget all the joy that is mine....

today."

(New Christy Minstrels, 1964)

I actually don't finish the song, because I choke up just a bit with emotion I didn't expect to be quite so close to the surface.  Because...how long has it been since my spirit rested in this much in-the-moment contentment?  And because...how true it is that strawberries and wine are sweet only in passing, and we absolutely must taste the goodness of the right-here-right-now any time it offers itself to us.

There is trouble all around the world today.  I know this because the internet reaches us even here.  But right now, right here, in this moment, all is well.  All is true and right and pure and noble and lovely and admirable, and excellent and praiseworthy.  And I choose to think on these things, and be in these things.

And the God of peace is with us.  I can smell it.