Rhonda's Ramblings

I have been mulling over the idea of community lately. Well, it is always a dominant topic in my thinking, for some reason. And I have lots of thoughts, but never take the time to write them down.

But today, I witnessed an amazing example of community and the body of Christ. And was very encouraged by it. I have been attending a tiny local church for probably 6-8 months. (By tiny, I mean there were 15 people there on Sunday.) My sister has been living with me this summer, and has attended church with me for about a month. And the ladies of the church threw her a bridal shower tonight, though they barely know her…and they really don’t know me that well. And I thought that was such an amazing blessing. These ladies, who I’m sure have SO much else going on in their lives…took the time to come to the shower, and spent money to buy her gifts. And I was very blessed, as I’m sure my sister was.

This week, I really let go of something that I have been holding on to tightly for far too long. God gives me gifts and I hold on to them so tightly, afraid that if I don’t he might snatch them right back.

Often, I hold onto things too tightly. I have all of these hopes and dreams that I cling to. Not that it is bad to dream and hope and desire certain things. But for me, there are certain things that I need to surrender to God. But instead, I grab onto them and wrap my fist around them and hold on tight, afraid that if I let go of them and give them to God, that he won’t let me have them. But this week I decided to let go. To open my hand and let God do what he will. Whether he takes them away from me completely or gives them back, I am holding them with my palm upturned. I am holding on to these hopes with an open hand rather than holding on tightly.

And you know what, it’s amazing what freedom that brings. It’s not my job to connive and scheme to try to fulfill my hopes and dreams. It is God’s job to take care of me. And I think I know what’s best. But the fact is, God really knows what’s best for me. He created me. Who better to know what my hopes and desires are and how best to fulfill them?

Not that it has been easy to give up these things, not knowing whether or not God will give them back to me. I have cried many tears this week. My heart is broken. But I need to give them up without expecting that he will give them back to me. I need to trust that his plan is perfect. And though my heart is broken, I am resting in the freedom of the knowledge that God holds me in his hand.

“All I Ever Have To Be”

When the weight of all my dreams
Is resting heavy on my head
And the thoughtful words of help and hope
Have all been nicely said
But I’m still hurting, wondering if I’ll ever be the one
I think I am – I think I am

Then you gently re-remind me
That You’ve made me from the first
And the more I try to be the best
The more I get the worst
And I realize the good in me is only there because of who You are
Who You are…

And all I ever have to be is what You’ve made me
Any more or less would be a step out of Your plan
As you daily recreate me help me always keep in mind
That I only have to do what I can find
And all I ever have to be
All I have to be
All I ever have to be is what You’ve made me

(Gary Chapman)

As I was driving to work this afternoon, I started singing this song for some reason. I haven’t listened to this tape in forever, but it is a song that I have loved ever since I first got Amy Grant’s Collection , and listened to it over and over since it was the only tape that I had. I’m sure that this song is full of theological holes, but it is encouraging to me.

I don’t think that I realized “the weight of all my dreams” when I was 10. But I think that I’m starting to feel the weight of those dreams now. I have lots of dreams…and sometimes the weight of them does feel quite heavy. I’ve been very blessed in being able to live out so many of my dreams…but there are so many more. I want marriage and a family and to live a life of purpose and to use my gifts and talents, not to mention the expectations that others have of me. And all the encouragements and “Don’t worry, God has a plan” have been given.

But lately, I have been wondering if I am the person that I always wanted to be. Is this who I dreamed of becoming? Not so much. It’s not just my outward circumstances, but my inward attitude and fears and ways of thinking, as well. Who have I become? “Will I ever be the one I think I am?” I don’t know.

But you know what, it doesn’t really matter if I am the person that I wanted to become, or the person that others want me to be. What really matters is who God wants me to be. That is who I really want to become. And that is what he is refining me to be, I hope.

Meanwhile, I’ll continue to shamelessly belt out vintage Amy Grant songs on my way to work.

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.” -Thomas Merton

Thanks to Matt who posted this recently. It definitely encouraged me.

As I was driving to work on Wednesday, I saw three things that hit me. They inexplicably brought tears to my eyes and made my heart swell with the joy of living.

None of them seemed very significant, but for some reason they impacted me.

Children riding their bike at the park.

An elderly woman, in her skirt with her gray hair regally swept into a french twist. As she walks along (to meet somebody, I presume), she is making sure that each piece of her hair is in place.

An elderly gentleman waiting to cross the street where there is no crosswalk. This is the same man that I see working in his yard, raking leaves on a regular basis. After I pass, I look in my rear-view mirror and see him running across the street. Obviously not as spry as he was in his younger years, but still able to run.

I know I’m a cheesy girl. But it’s the little things that make life wonderful. Like last night when I came out of the store and the hills covered in pine trees were gilded by the sun. It was beautiful.

If we cut off their tongues and forbid the Christians speech, they love with their hands, with their feet, and with their eyes, they love always and everywhere until their last respiration. Does anybody know how to take out the power of love from these stupid Christians?
-(Romanian prison guard who found both his fulfillment and frustration in torturing Christians)

Go back and read that quote again and let it sink in.

Every time I read this quote, it convicts the heck out of me. Do I have that kind of love? Would I be able to love people who were torturing me? If I could not speak of Christ, would my actions show his love?

Only by the grace of God.

A few questions/comments that stuck out to me today in my reading…

What is a woman of strength?

How does a woman balance femininity and strength?

Proverbs 31:25
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.

Nothing is so strong as gentleness: nothing so gentle as real strength. -St. Francis De Sales

We pray that you’ll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul-not the grim strength of gritting your teeth, but the glory-strength God gives. It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us. -Colossians 1:11-12 (MSG)

No profound point or attempt to tie this all together.

If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all. And so today I still have a dream. -Martin Luther King

I have a problem. It is not your normal problem, I don’t think. My problem is that I hold on to hope. At first glance, this doesn’t seem like much of a problem, but I assure you that at times it can be.

Some examples of me holding on to hope:

Guys: This is the primary example of it being a problem. Over the past year I have been involved in what has been referred to as a “non-relationship relationship…friendship…non-friendship sometime-friendship but only when we’re a non-relationship.“. If you know what that means, let me know. But my main problem in this situation was that I held onto hope much longer than I should have. I chose to interpret things that he did and said as reasons to hope, but they weren’t. But I couldn’t give up those shreds of hope. I wanted to believe that he was interested in me. I didn’t want to give up hope, and still don’t, but have had to make a very conscious decision to let go of that hope, because it has been made clear that there is really no reason to hope. (As proof that I hold onto hope longer than I should, I present my blog entry from over 4 months ago.) I thought I was giving up hope then, but 4 months later, I still held onto those last slivers of hope.
I did the same thing with the only other guy that I have really been interested in. I told myself that there was hope even when he started dating my best friend. I gave up the hope when they got engaged, but I should have given it up long before that. Maybe I am just in denial.

Dad: My dad was an alcoholic/drug addict for most of his life, and pretty much all of mine. But as a kid I prayed faithfully for him, and held onto hope that he would someday change. And I held onto that hope into adulthood. I hoped that God would get ahold of him and that he would come to the Lord and turn his life around. And that he would grow old and be a grandfather to my kids. This hope ended when he was killed in a car crash a few years ago, still in the midst of his addictions. This one obviously not a bad hope to hold onto, and I don’t regret holding on to that hope at all.

College friend: This friend was definitely manic-depressive and when she was on the mountain, she was very high (metaphorically), and when she was in a valley, she was so depressed that she would be in the fetal position on the bed. She also had a lot of unhealthy habits when she was in the valleys (drugs, sex, rock & roll…lying). For years, I held on to hope that she would change, and I supported her and tried to keep her accountable (at her request). I was a very faithful friend all through college, but despite my hope she never changed, and she still continues the same cycle to this day. Obviously, I still hope that she changes, but I dealing with her all the time was just very emotionally draining.

Benefits of hope Of course, holding on to hope can has also been a catalyst for good in my life. I don’t think I would have had much opportunity to travel the world if I hadn’t held on to the hope that a poor little white trash girl could explore the nations. If I could dream it, I could do it. If somebody in a book did it, then I could too, right? And I think having a hopeful personality helped get me through college. How was some girl who grew up on welfare gonna be able to afford to go to a private Christian college? (Well, I’m still paying for that )

Despite choosing to give up hope in this recent situation, I will not give up on hope altogether, though often what I hope for doesn’t come to pass. I will still hold on the many hopes and dreams that I have. And some will come true and some won’t. But that’s life.

And ultimately I can only hope in God.

Psalm 33:18
But the eyes of the LORD are on those who fear him,
on those whose hope is in his unfailing love

Psalm:5-6
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
my hope comes from him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

Just to let you know…this won’t be a depressing post. So, keep reading.

Psalm 148:3
Praise him, sun and moon,
praise him, all you shining stars.

On my way home from work tonight I saw a shooting star. Seeing a shooting star always brings joy to my heart. It’s like you are participating in a tiny moment of magic. If you had been looking somewhere else at that moment, you would have missed the falling glimpse of light. The one I saw tonight lasted longer than usual. It seemed to float through the sky in slow motion. I kept expecting the light to die out, but it hung on for a few seconds. It definitely brought a smile to my face.

And I know this sounds really cheesy, but if you don’t by now that I’m cheesy, then it’s time you found out.
When I see a shooting star, I feel like it’s a special way God encourages me a little bit. It’s like he’s saying, “See my beauty and my creation that praises me. I remember you and you are special to me, so I’m sharing it with you…you get to enjoy it too.” Like I said, cheesy, yet it makes my heart happy.

So, what are some little things that God has used to encourage or remind you of something this week? (If I ask a direct question, will you guys make comments? )

A pictorial portrayal of why I am in old woman.

How I spend my time:

crocheting beanies (though I hope I look cuter than this in them.)

making berry tarts

making grape jam from the grapes in my backyard

making bread and butter pickles

finishing a wall hanging similar to this.

and of course, working in the garden and preparing for a life of celibacy

And I enjoy every minute of it. Maybe if I keep it up, when I am actually an old woman I will be an expert in at least one of these things. (I just hope it’s not celibacy)

Hymn to a Good Wife
(Proverbs 31)

10A good woman is hard to find,
and worth far more than diamonds.
11Her husband trusts her without reserve,
and never has reason to regret it.
12Never spiteful, she treats him generously
all her life long.
13She shops around for the best yarns and cottons,
and enjoys knitting and sewing.
14She’s like a trading ship that sails to faraway places
and brings back exotic surprises.
15She’s up before dawn, preparing breakfast
for her family and organizing her day.
16She looks over a field and buys it,
then, with money she’s put aside, plants a garden.
17First thing in the morning, she dresses for work,
rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started.
18She senses the worth of her work,
is in no hurry to call it quits for the day.
19She’s skilled in the crafts of home and hearth,
diligent in homemaking.
20She’s quick to assist anyone in need,
reaches out to help the poor.
21She doesn’t worry about her family when it snows;
their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear.
22She makes her own clothing,
and dresses in colorful linens and silks.
23Her husband is greatly respected
when he deliberates with the city fathers.
24She designs gowns and sells them,
brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops.
25Her clothes are well-made and elegant,
and she always faces tomorrow with a smile.
26When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say,
and she always says it kindly.
27She keeps an eye on everyone in her household,
and keeps them all busy and productive.
28Her children respect and bless her;
her husband joins in with words of praise:
29″Many women have done wonderful things,
but you’ve outclassed them all!”
30Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades.
The woman to be admired and praised
is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-GOD.
31Give her everything she deserves!
Festoon her life with praises!

I love this version of Proverbs 31 (It’s from the Message…I know some of you don’t consider that the Bible). But what an amazing woman that describes. The woman that I hope that God is shaping me to be. But the most important thing…even though this woman has so many skills…is that she fears the Lord. I would love to become an expert at all these things…but more than that, I would love to become a woman who really reflects Christ. I hope when people look at me they admire and praise me not for the things I can do (which really, I can do some things, but none of them really well), but I hope they see God through me.

Have you ever fallen asleep during a sermon? Or during class? Yesterday, I didn’t fall asleep, but it’s only by the grace of God, or maybe because I was sitting on a tiny uncomfortable bench.

Yesterday, Paula (one of my teammates) and I went to a distant Maasai village to do a teaching on HIV and AIDS. We went with a missionary and a Kenyan man who was from this village and set up the appointment. When we arrived, we were asked to pay 100 shillings to enter the meeting, (apparently it was a conference that was lasting 10 days) and then were led to a bench in the front row. This is where we remained through the next 4 sermons. Sermons which were in the Kimaasai language and translated into Kiswahili, but not into English. Sometimes I have a hard enough time paying attention to an English sermon, but 4 hours of sermons in other languages…it’s a little much. Since we were in the front row, I couldn’t even observe all of the villagers with their colorful outfits and beads. But thankfully, there were some diversions. Such as the flies that landed on me constantly…some of them even mating while landing on me. There was a little tiny moth flying around and exploring that I watched for a while, but that got boring. They did have an altar call where many of the people came up to be prayed for, and it was at this point that I almost burst out laughing, which I’m sure would have been completely inappropriate. But as they were praying for these people, many of the ladies were being “slain in the Spirit” (I’m not sure why the men weren’t). Now, I grew up in a charismatic church, so this is nothing new to me. But whenever I’ve seen people being slain in the spirit, their whole body has remained stiff as they fall. These women were falling in the sitting position, and they were falling all over on top of each other, and I thought it was amazing that nobody got hurt. It was just a tangled mess of people, which for some reason was really funny to me.

I also had lots of time to think and ponder deep questions. Can one have faith without hope? If I have given up hope in a certain situation, can I still have faith that the end result will be what I had previously hoped for? I don’t really think they can be mutually exclusive. If I don’t have hope for something, how can I have faith that it will happen? I don’t know. I just felt that God encouraged me to have faith in a certain situation that I had previously felt he had led to me give up hope in. Maybe my problem is that I let emotion get in the way too much. Or maybe my problem is that I think about these things while Kenyan women are playing Twister with God right in front of me.

Whenever a new person got up to talk, we expected to be introduced and do our teaching, but that wasn’t happening…and we had no idea what was happening, since we couldn’t understand anything. After 4 hours, when it was past time for us to be going home, they told us that they weren’t planning on having us speak. This is something they had decided before we came, but decided not to tell us until 4 hours after we got there. It was a little frustrating to say the least. We had driven a couple of hours, 30 minutes of it on a dirt road full of ruts…well more like a dirt path. We sat there for 4 hours…and then drove back home, hoping to arrive in the city before dark. Such is life…especially in Africa.

Well the night was cold and my heart was hidden buried safely in a shell
But I knew somehow I’d have to run that risk I’d have to open up myself
But You said, look at the stars on the face of the sky
They’re the same ones Abraham saw
And under my wings I will make you shine
Give you strength enough to love
Oh, I’m getting strong enough
You helped me chip my way out
And open myself up

And for the snow that comes with winter
And for the growth that comes from pain
And for the joke I can’t remember though the laughter long remains
For the faith that brought the finish
All I doubted at the start

Lord I give you praise for all that makes the hatching of a heart

Well my face was smooth and featureless
Just like an egg
And if I was moving you would never guess it by the look upon my face
But you said Man looks without but I look within
I can see the love you hide.
It’s a matter of doubt.
It’s a symptom of sin
It’s a problem of too much pride

I, now I’m opening up wide. (I have no idea what this line says)…..has pulled out from beneath me and you’re teaching me to fly
For the strength that comes with friendship
For the warmth that comes with hope
For the love time can’t diminish
And for the time love takes to grow
For the moonlight on the water
For the bright and morning star

Lord, I give you praise for all that makes the hatching of a heart

I was reminiscing about Rich Mullins yesterday, so I pulled out the only Rich cd that I brought with me: Brother’s Keeper. (I was sad when I realized this was the only Rich cd I have with me). And this song stopped me dead in my tracks. I always forget how much I love this song. It never fails to speak to me. And especially right now, when I am struggling with dealing with the hurt that came from opening up my heart. But, I need to remember that God helped me “chip my way out and open myself up”. And he knows the pain that comes from a broken heart, but he also knows the growth that comes with that pain. I personally would prefer the growth without the pain, but that’s rarely how it works.

I also love the line “It’s a matter of doubt; it’s a symptom of sin; it’s a problem of too much pride.” How true is that? The reason that I don’t want to open up my heart is that I don’t trust God enough. And pride…that dreaded word that seems to be the root off all my issues. I don’t trust God because of pride. I think I know how the situation should work out. I think I know what is best. Dang pride.

So, once again, here I am again with the same issue…pride. So, I am asking God to continue to break down my pride. (Which is a scary thing to ask…it often takes heartache to break my pride ) And I’m asking that he would continue to chip away the walls that I put up around my heart…and that I wouldn’t continue to put those walls up despite the hurt.

I bet if I read my journal from 3 years ago, it would say the exact same things. Will I never learn?

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Let your attitude be as that of Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.
Phil. 2:3-8

It seems this passage shows up to convict me in almost everything I read lately.

I really believe that one of my spiritual gifts (as well as one of my primary love languages) is acts of service. Looking back over the last few years of my life, I see how much my servant’s heart has weakened. I used to be content to serve in the background and receive no recognition at all. Not only was I content in serving others, I really enjoyed that role. I still do enjoy it, but I don’t do it as willingly and joyfully as I used to.
I had a feeling before I came to Kenya that my role on the team would be a lot of serving. And I actually asked God to give me opportunities to be a servant and to give me more of a servant’s heart. And he of course has been faithful to do so.

The other day when we visited an orphanage, Vanessa and I ended up in the backyard, squatting on the ground (with the chickens) washing the dishes from lunch. We had very little water to wash them with, and it was a long, laborious job. We did dishes while the rest of our team played with the kids and got to know them. And we hadn’t even finished all of the dishes when it was time to go. It was not what I thought I would be doing when we visited the orphanage. But I’m so glad I got to do it. We did dishes with the sweetest lady named Josephine. And we had a lot of fun getting to know her. And I enjoyed being able to serve these children in a way that they wouldn’t expect.

And I’ve had a zillion other opportunities to serve in the background. Cooking, cleaning, making copies, organizing the guest rooms, shopping, running errands…the list goes on and on. “Menial Mondays” is the name Vanessa and I have given to our work days. I have definitely not maintained a good attitude about those serving days. But this passage reminds me that my attitude in serving needs to be like Christ’s attitude. He was willing to humble himself to the point of death. He taught us by example to serve others. He washed his disciples feet. He was a true servant leader. And that’s what he calls us to:

You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you should also do as I have done to you. John 13:13-15

That’s what God has been challenging me with lately.

Some other highlights of this past week:

Friday, we went to a Maasai community to do a health and AIDS education seminar. The church, which consisted of rough wooden supports with a canvas roof over them, was located on a hill that had a beautiful view of the lush green hills surrounding them. My role was to take the kids and play with them and keep them busy. That was wonderful, because that is what I truly enjoy. Emmanuel was the only one out of the 30 or so that spoke English, so he was my translator. And I especially fell in love with him and his sister Jane. We were supposed to go back to the same community yesterday, but because it had rained throughout the night, it was not accessible by car. Very sad. But I hope to go back again sometime.

Thursday, we went with one of the president’s wives, Mary, to her home village area and visited some clinics and hospitals. HEART (the organization I am working with) has a shipment of medical supplies arriving in Kenya next month, so Mary wanted us to visit these clinics in hopes that we would give them some of the supplies.

While I have had many “Menial Mondays”, I have also had the chance to have some adventures and amazing experiences. And I’m sure there are many more of both to come in the next month.

(I will put some pictures up soon of the last couple of days. I tried tonight, but it wouldn’t work. I did put some new pictures up a couple of days ago, if you haven’t seen those. www.rmfo-pics.net/rhonda

Last night I was looking back over some old journal entries, and found a couple of tear stained pages from 8 or 9 months ago.

Entry 1 I really want to take the risk and open my heart. And I’m going to. But if I open my heart this time, just to have it crushed again, I think I’m done. I don’t want to open my heart again…it’s not worth it.
Entry 2 (about a month later)I don’t understand why God continues to encourage me to open up my heart and tear down the walls just so I can get hurt again. It’s not worth it! I’m so done opening up my heart.

I did open my heart and yes, it was painful. For many months I still held onto a bit of hope that it wouldn’t end in a hurting heart. But this week, those last slivers of hope have slipped out of my hands.

Obviously in those journal entries, I was speaking out of my emotion…but I still feel that way a lot. Why open up my heart to someone (in friendship or romantic interest), when it usually ends with losing a friendship? Almost every close friendship that I’ve had in my life has ended, so why would I want to continue to make more friends when they will probably just be out of my life in a couple of years anyway?
I know that this is not a healthy way to think…but it is the way I think, oftentimes. This is why I close off my heart. And I know that I do it. I put walls up because I don’t want to get hurt. I keep people at an arm’s distance, because I think if I get close to them, it will hurt more when the friendship ends. So, I tell myself that surface level friendships are easier, though I know that is not really true.

So, even though I have given up hope in this particular situation, and at this point I don’t want to open up my heart again…I do hope that God will help me to not put those walls back up….to not close myself off because of fear of rejection or pain…to continue to open my heart and be vulnerable…and in that continue to grow.

I do not even come close to realizing the enormity of my sin. And, to be honest, I don’t often feel deep conviction for my sin. I was taught from a young age that Jesus died for my sins, and I’ve pretty much been a good girl. I’m not “that bad”of a person. I sin, but Jesus’ blood covers it. And I know that if I sin, His grace is sufficient. These are not conscious thoughts that I have as I sin. But when I step back and reflect on my attitude towards sin, I see this pattern of thought.

This is very dangerous thinking. It cheapens the grace that Christ paid a huge price to extend to me. It’s basically saying “I know that sin is wrong, but I will be forgiven, so I’m gonna do it anyway.” Deitrich Bonhoeffer would call this “cheap grace”.

Cheap grace is the deadly enemy of our Church. We are fighting today for costly grace.

Cheap grace means grace sold on the market like cheapjack’s wares. The sacraments, the forgiveness of sin, and the consolations of religion are thrown away at cut prices. Grace is represented as the Church’s inexhaustible treasury, from which she showers blessings with generous hands, without asking questions or fixing limits. Grace without price; grace without cost!

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the Cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will gladly go and sell all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods;

Costly grace is the Gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock.

Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner.

Above all, it is costly because it costs God the life of His Son: “ye were bought at a price; and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon His Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered Him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.

Costly grace is the sanctuary of God; it has to be protected from the world, and not thrown to the dogs;

;Dietrich Bonhoeffer (February 4, 1906-April 9, 1945)

Oh, how I pray that I would have an understanding of the gravity of my sin. And how I wish that I didn’t treat the grace of God with such nonchalance.