Confessions of a Hypochondriac - R

Fun fact about me: I'm a self-diagnosed hypochondriac. Whenever I have some little pain in my toenail or something, I start daydreaming about the doctor telling me that the test results came back, and I've tested positive for Incurable Toenail Disease Syndrome. I find this news unbearable, obviously, but I face it with a quiet, grim determination. Set on beating this thing, I eat healthy, exercise when I can, and brace myself for the treatments. My loving community, of course, rallies around me, organizing silent auctions to help pay my hospital bills, bringing food over for me, and clipping their toenails in solidarity with me as the ITDS slowly makes mine fall out. Eventually, though, ITDS gets the better of me, and I pass away peacefully, leaving behind only the memories that people pass around in their stories of me.

I know. I'm very brave.

It's not often that doctors and hypochondriacs agree, but they see pretty eye-to-eye on this one: pain serves a very important purpose in the body. Pain tells the body that something is wrong and we need to fix it before it gets worse. Pain helps us identify an issue, internal or external, when otherwise we wouldn't have a clue. And, ironically, it can be pain that saves a life when it's the only symptom we have.

Hypochondriacs know this just a little too well, so they will often do a kind of self-checkup. You can try it now if you like, many doctors actually recommend it. Close your eyes, focus on feeling the tip of your toes, and slowly work your way up your body, paying close attention to what might feel off or out of place. I just did it and found out that I'm still sore from a workout yesterday. Maybe I'll do some yoga after this.

I was talking with a friend this week (shoutouts to you, Austin Parsons), and he asked me about where I come up with topics for this blog, because as a writer he knows firsthand how difficult it can sometimes be to come up with ideas. A fair point. I hadn't given it too much thought since my ideas seemed to kind of come from all over. I mean, so far I've written about a children's book, getting in an argument with a sheet of notebook paper, and getting a timeout in the fourth grade. Not much rhyme or reason.

But I started to realize that this blog is beginning to serve a very important purpose for me. Once every two weeks, with this pretty arbitrary deadline of midnight on Thursdays that Mason and I have imposed on ourselves looming over my head, I am forced to do a spiritual self-checkup. I stop. I reflect. I identify the hurts in my life. I try to find what's causing me pain. Sometimes I have to dig pretty far. Sometimes pain is lurking in some pretty surprising corners of my life. Sometimes I have pain manifesting itself as other things.

Pain is a helpful thing because it serves as a signpost. It points you toward something that's wrong. Even spiritually. The problem comes in when we try to treat the symptom and not the cause. Without identifying the bigger issue, we're just stumbling in the dark, hoping we find a solution along the way. We do this a lot as Christians. We know that something is broken. We know that Jesus heals. Two and two make four. But I think that it's time for a little self-reflection. I think it's time we're honest with ourselves and ask hard questions. I'm sorry if you disagree, but I think that relying on Christian music or a single Bible verse to heal any hurt is about like doctors chunking a handful of Tylenol at you to fix a broken leg. It might help a little, or make you forget some of the pain, but you've still got something broken.

I firmly believe that God can heal any pain in our lives, but it can't hurt to have an idea of what exactly has gone wrong. Don't stop at, "I'm stressed, God please make me less stressed." Why are you stressed? The future? The workload? The relationship? The job? The lack of a job? What area of your life do you need to invite God into? What area of your life are you refusing to relinquish control of?

My challenge to you is one of the hardest I can give to people in this day and age: stop. Just stop for five minutes and reflect. Find out what's troubling you. Get to the roots. Be honest with yourself, and make yourself uncomfortable. Because, and I can't stress this enough:

God is ready to work wherever you need him.

"I have seen their ways, but I will heal them; I will guide them and restore comfort to Israel’s mourners, creating praise on their lips. Peace, peace, to those far and near,” says the Lord. “And I will heal them.” - Isaiah 57:18-19

~RJS~

construction notes for the encourager ~m

My Grandad never told me he loved me, that I can recall. I remember being panicked because I didn't get to intentionally tell him one last time before he passed away. But then, as I thought about it, an overwhelming calm rested on me when I realized that we had loved each other, deeply. And we both knew it, he more than I. He had proven it to me countless times in silent acts of service that I still have realizations about. I've never been loved in such a way as my Grandad loved me, yet he never said a word, he never had to prove it.

*I can't think of a good segway here so just pretend it's a gripping transition*

encouragers!

Gotta love 'em. Vital to my existence. Without them, I wouldn't know that people actually read what Riley and I have to say on this blog, and therefore I probably wouldn't put as much effort into writing as I do. So thanks, guys. Your words have a deeper impact than you may know.

Whenever I think up ideas for one of these things (blogs), I always just go with what's pressing on my heart the hardest and trust that God will work through people either relating to me or reading what I have to say and teaching me something new. This week the whole idea of encouragement has not let my mind rest.

yellow

Ever notice how on social media there is a TON of encouragement in the form of words, quotes, and happy pictures that make you have to turn your phone screen's brightness down? Those posts pick me up and send me some great reminders. So if you post those, please keep it up. You're not the hero we deserve, but the hero we need.

Something dawned on me recently, though. I think we can come to the agreement that Jesus was the most loving human to live, right (listen, I know your Aunt Bethel is great but hear me out please)?
I just went ahead and googled "encouragement from Jesus" because the only passage I could think of that met this specific criteria was "I said this so you'll have peace," and "take heart! I have overcome the world," both in next-door sentences in John 16. The results that came up on google confirmed my fear. That's all we've got as far as specific personal affirmation from Jesus goes (I could be wrong, this was just a quick skim. But as far as I know there are no specific subcategories of Bible websites entitled "encouragement from Jesus" so that's what I'm going off of).

What the heck, Jesus. Tell me I'm doing a good job at least once. I thrive on this stuff. C'mon, man.

what's encouragement? 

If you're a Christian (and/or just a good person), you've probably taken it upon yourself to encourage another person in one way or another. You've said "it's going to be okay! God's got you."
Noble, true, and good.
You've said, "I'll pray for you," or "I'm talking to God about you tonight."
Incredible.
Do y'all know how good it feels to have someone speak that kind of truth over you? It's awesome. A great high comes from being noticed, validated, and interceded for.

But I have a serious question for you personally, and I don't think I'm alone with my answer to this one:

How much have words of encouragement done for you, really?

For me, they've changed my mindset. Given my mental health a boost. Very good things.

But I can promise you this: there have been times where where those around you just...needed more. I say "needed" simply because their personal struggles would have been less difficult had they received the "more" I'm talking about. I've had times where it felt like I was struggling with holding a huge weight over my head and everyone crowded around me or watched from afar, yelling "good job! I'm praying for you!" These were personal burdens to bear, don't get me wrong. Nobody owed me anything, nor did I expect anything. And verbal support was so much better than being alone.


But Jesus said "take heart" once. 

the point, mason. get to the point. 

What did the most loving, radiant human to ever walk this earth do to keep his followers sane, encouraged, and believing in what he had to say? 

He did. He served. Jesus said "take heart" once, but he said "get up and walk, you're healed" countless times. 

We can't heal people, forgive their sins, or perform miracles. But I started a list of things we can do to embody Christ's example. Italicized because we can mirror him in this way, and that's important.

3 specific examples of what we can do to actually be more like Jesus:

1. Instead of praying for someone, pray with that someone.
2. Instead of telling someone you love them, show them you love them. Try not even saying the words.
3. Remind the mass of people that they're loved, but reach out and tell someone personally that they're specifically loved.

I'm not saying you aren't being effective with kind words, encouraging posts, and personal prayers for people. The title of this blog is "construction notes for the encourager." Construction. So we can build on what we have. If you've ever encouraged someone in that way, you keep this world turning. Keep it up. You're absolutely amazing. But don't check the box and be done. Build on that. Let's add some more sustenance to an already good thing.


Don't get caught saying "you're loved" and moving on. Be the one who loves.


~m

My Least Favorite Question - R

Does everybody remember Alex from Target? I hope we as a people always remember how we literally made someone famous overnight for working and being handsome all at the same time. The guy went on Ellen for crying out loud. Anyway, my one claim to fame is that for a little over a year, I worked at the exact same Target store that Alex from Target worked at. So, by extension, I was basically on Ellen.

For over a year, I scanned item after item, watching people spend thousands of dollars before my very eyes. I memorized the 4-digit code for almost every single piece of produce we sold (bananas are 4011 if you're wondering), I spent hours putting packages of candy in neat rows in the checkout lanes, I removed approximately 12 metric tons of hangers from purchased articles of clothing, and I twiddled my thumbs more than one man ever has.

But there was one thing that I did every day, repeatedly, that forever changed my life.

"How are you?"

I greeted almost every customer with this question for over a year. I actually did the math here, and my estimate is that I asked this question around 36,000 times in my time at Target. And I'm sure you can imagine what might happen to a question when you ask it that many times.

It comes to mean absolutely nothing.

And that isn't solely the fault of the frequency of times asked, it's also in the predictability of the answer. When I asked this question, I would consistently get one of three answers: "good," (usually accompanied by the dead eyes that told me they were not, in fact, good) "busy," or, my personal favorite, "tired" (usually accompanied by the dead eyes that told me they were, in fact, tired).

We live in such an interesting time. Never before has it been so easy to do . . . well, anything really. Practically every innovation relates somehow to speed, convenience, or efficiency. Items are marketed to us boasting about how much time they'll save us. Wireless Internet providers preach faster download speeds. Smartphones claim to be the one-stop shop for all things convenience related.

You'd think with all the time we save on tasks that used to take exponentially larger amounts of time, we'd have a little more wiggle room in our schedules to prevent us from constantly reporting that we're either busy or tired. With how fast we can complete assignments, we should have sporadic pockets of unclaimed free time ready for us to use however we please.

Reality tells a different story.

Anxiety rates are climbing. Suicide rates are climbing. We're getting less and less sleep. We've made an idol of productivity. Idle hours, in our modern thinking, should be spent doing something productive. And if by some miracle we have managed to finish all of our pressing work, we'll just grasp around until we find something else to work on. We've forgotten how to stop. We've forgotten how to rest. We've forgotten the beautiful art of doing absolutely nothing.

When the Israelites embarrass themselves by making the Golden Calf in Exodus 32, God is livid. And who can blame him? They literally just committed as a people to following his commandments so that they could be his people. And Moses leaves for ten seconds, they get scared, make an idol, then get into big trouble. It is in the aftermath of this situation that we get what is, to me, one of the most terrifying and profound exchanges between God and his people.

Then the Lord said to Moses, “Leave this place, you and the people you brought up out of Egypt, and go up to the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, saying, ‘I will give it to your descendants.’ I will send an angel before you and drive out the Canaanites, Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. Go up to the land flowing with milk and honey. But I will not go with you, because you are a stiff-necked people and I might destroy you on the way.” - Exodus 33:1-3

This has the ring of someone completely giving up out of sheer frustration. The Israelites were understandably pretty freaked out. Luckily they had Moses to intercede.

Moses said to the Lord, “You have been telling me, ‘Lead these people,’ but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. You have said, ‘I know you by name and you have found favor with me.’ If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you. Remember that this nation is your people.” The Lord replied, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” Then Moses said to him, “If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?” And the Lord said to Moses, “I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name.” - Exodus 33:12-17

There's a lot of complex questions surrounding this passage that I very much do not want to try to tackle here. But there is something beautiful in its simplicity here that I think we miss a lot of the time. Israel is poised to enter the land that God promised to Abraham's descendants. They've been freed from the Egyptians with an incredible display of God's power in the ten plagues. God, to the Israelites at this time, is the God that fights the battles, the God of miracles, of power, of parting the Red Sea. So, when Moses is begging for God to stay with him and the Israelites, he's likely expecting his presence to be accompanied by power or victory or strength. As is usually the case.

Sometimes it's just as important to focus on what God doesn't say in the Bible. He doesn't say, "My Presence will go with you, and I will give you power." He doesn't say "I will give you victory." He doesn't promise strength or dominance or wisdom.

"I will give you rest."

See, that's the thing about serving a God who brings strength and power and dominance. He fights all the battles that we can't. He brings the rain when we can't. He heals when we can't. He forgives when we can't forgive ourselves. And he gives us every reason to stop worrying when we won't. He meets every need we could possibly have.

When all has already been taken care of, all that's left to do . . . is rest.

God's fourth commandment to honor the Sabbath wasn't a mistake, and it certainly isn't out of date. We need it now more than ever. God specifically created us to be in a rhythm of work and rest, and we have become absolutely terrible at resting in any capacity. He gave us one day of the week to enjoy what he has created and to dwell in his presence. Now, of all times, is not when we should take that gift lightly.

I mentioned in my last post being terrified of the future. Still true, if you're wondering. But I have found through the practice of Sabbath this semester that it is much much harder to be anxious when rest is just as much of a priority in your life as work or school. Rest can look like many different things, including restored confidence in God's ability to work for the good. God's presence renews the heart. The intimacy that resting in him brings is like a complete recharge for the soul. Whatever your worry or concern, it's taken care of. Kick back. Rest. Abide.

To all you thinking that you can't take one day away from everything, I say you're wrong. Make rest a priority in the coming weeks. Find a way to step back from the hectic pace of life, and I promise you'll be blessed.

Let the words of Christ wash over you as you stop, breathe, and simply be present.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. - Matthew 11:28-30

And if that doesn't make you want to weep for joy, you're wrong.

~RJS~

the simple gospel ~m

"Mason, you don't think you deserve God's love," my friend Josh said, over an over-priced burger. "Your mindset is wrong, and I can see just by the way you're looking at me right now you know I'm right. You're believing the lies. I understand where you are, but what you need to realize is that you're not the freaking boss here. God is, and he loves you so freaking much. Just...trust him. Accept it by changing your mindset. You know what you need to believe you deserve. You don't understand that there is nothing on earth that can separate you from God's love, but you know it’s true. So act like it."

I felt like a 21-year-old 3rd grader learning about Jesus for the first time (a 21-year-old wanting to go into ministry, claiming to have worthwhile things to say to others through a Jesus-centered blog. I hope by now you can tell that I'm not trying to portray a perfect image, oops). This was basic stuff, yet my heart needed it so badly.

Josh knew his words were making an impact so he continued in his convicting, squeezing words. This is what I was craving, though. A medicinal hard truth that stung but slowly brought relief with it. This is the seed I've needed planted in my psyche. The cool drink of water. But why did I need so desperately to be refreshed?

"S"

Somewhere, somehow, I fell victim to the oldest trick in the book. I think it's so old because of how effective it is. Satan gets results when he uses the "S" tactic. The "S" tactic calls upon your childhood, and small things that happened to you that you thought you had forgotten. The "S" tactic calls upon a conversation you had last week with someone who said words that chipped a little piece off of your self-worth. The "S" tactic calls upon your recent memories. The ones you don't want anyone to see, the secret that's just between you and one other person...you and your phone's private browser...you and the bottle...you and...well, God, of course. God sees you. He sees who you are. He sees the level you've stooped to. He knows what you think. 

Panic time. Isolation time. Lament time. I'm sorry. 

Repeat. Throw in some horrible childhood memories again, don't forget how much value you put in the way someone interacts with you. The negative way they view you may be wrong, but they think it. So where did they get the thought from? Somewhere with a little truth? They must know I'm a mess, and they must be right.

Repeat.

Satan. Secret. Shame. "S."

The "S" tactic is almost never tangible. You can never see it and you can almost never define it for what it is, because it feels like a part of you. Me. It feels like a part of me.

wait

Here's the thing, though. I'm 21 years old. I've been a wholehearted Christian for 9 wholehearted years, and this is nothing new to me. I can and have identified the "S" in my own life, fixed my mindset, and moved on. But just the fact that something is fixed once doesn't mean it's fixed for good. Without maintenance anything can break down, and this is a dam that is hammered constantly in my life. I think the "S" is something we all struggle with, so I hope you're still reading.

gears

Obviously, I've let that slip. We all let it slip sometimes, but I'm ready to get back on board. The problem, though, is that I've been at this point before, perhaps without fully realizing it. I've seen what I'm capable of and therefore have tried to pick up where I feel I deserve to be. But it just doesn't seem to work that way. The shame slaps me in the face even though it has nothing to stand on. The best way to describe this situation is in a social media post I read a while ago, and has stuck with me ever since.

"The other day my dad taught me how to drive his big-o dump truck and he was pouring out wisdom without even knowing it. At one point he told me 'you can't just go from a dead stop to 10th gear' and yeah, duh, it's literally impossible. But then I started thinking about it spiritually. Why do we assume we can go straight from the darkest pit of sin and shame straight into His glorious light?? I'm not saying you can't. God is SO good and He will most definitely restore. It just may take some time - some painful gear changing and slow starts, but slowly you will notice your heart start to change as you allow Him to fix the broken pieces of yourself. But this change can never happen unless the clutch is all the way down. Just like Jesus can only change you as much as you allow. So for satan's lies there is a God who loves you and hurts with you and wants to help you out of that. So stop fighting Him. Let Him restore."        -@maddysun_shine_ on Instagram

I kind of feel like I could just end the blog there, honestly. Mic drop. But I want to dive a little deeper into the core of what's happening here.

the simple Gospel.

The same Josh that absolutely toasted me earlier for not being where I need to be with God shared a playlist with me. I waited a while to listen to it, but when I did the first chorus of the first song cut deeper into my heart than I was prepared to be cut. It's almost unbearably elementary:

"I will rejoice in the simple Gospel. I will rejoice in you, Lord"

The simple Gospel. The Gospel that's not difficult to understand, but exceedingly difficult for me to grasp: the creator of this universe saw me, my shortcomings, the times I've tried to do more good than bad and failed, and he knew I needed help. He contrived a plan to save me, to save you, and to save the people who don't even know this story. He sent Jesus, his son, to untie the horrible, fraying knots of our lives and secured us to God, while taking the fall for all of my shortcomings. He died because we were worth dying for.
The next song on the shuffled playlist was Pieces (Spontaneous), by Bethel music. Here's a snippet, listen to it if you want to get #wrecked:

"Your love is wild for me. It isn't shy, it's unashamed. Your love is proud to be seen with me."

God is proud of you in a way that no human ever could be. Are you crying? Because whenever I allow this to actually sink in tears well up in my eyes. God wants to be associated with you. God sees you. He sees your past. He is elated to hold you, like the best father cradling his only child. He's proud of your accomplishments because he sees who you are. He sees the shame, but most importantly he sees you behind the shame. He's proven his love for you over and over, and he'll pursue you into the depths of the pit, the mountain, wherever you go to run from him.

The hardest part of all of this is for me to believe this part: I deserve to be loved like that. Why? Because God says so. But the moment I catch a glimpse of understanding this truth I'm overwhelmed.

The further we stray from that truth, the more wiggle room Satan has to wreak havoc. So, I don't think I need to say any more. We may need to take small steps to get back to where we need to be. But we can't distance ourselves from the pure emotion that our God has to be associated with us.

That's what I needed to hear. Maybe you, too. It's what your friends need to hear.

So go tell them.

Get Comfy - R

I need to be fully honest with you. I'm terrified.

I will be graduating college in May. In one year, my life could be very different than it is today. I might be employed in a full-time job. I might be living in a different state. I might be writing the next great American novel. I might finally get around to pursuing a career in the yodeling industry. Who knows??

I don't do well with change. At all. I resist about as hard as I can. Most of my life is devoted to becoming as comfortable as possible. I absolutely love sitting with my feet up. I don't purchase clothes based on how they look but on how they feel. A soft blanket has potential to bring me to tears.

But there's even more than that. I need to structure my life around me to be as comfortable as possible. I have to find a way to carve out some routine, some normalcy, some kind of existence where everything makes sense and I can at least feel like I have some control over things. Eventually, of course, my life inevitably changes and I have to find a way to be comfortable in that new life, and I do. This happened when I moved, when I started high school, when I got my first job, when my sister left for college, and then when I left for college.

Somewhere between the time that I realize my life has changed for the better and the time when my life changes once more, I manage to forget that God made something beautiful out of the last change. I tend to have this subconscious assumption that whatever change that was most recent is the most miraculous work that God has ever done in my life and there's no way that he could ever top it. God's worked and now it's on me to make the most of the work that he's done.

Sounds stupid, I know, but this is one of those times where my stupidity is biblically based. For the Jewish people, the single most important event for them as a people of God was the Exodus. This was, to them, the best show of God's strength and commitment to his people. The problem is, they seemed to also assume that his power was sort of spent after the business with the ten plagues.

The whole Israelite community set out from Elim and came to the Desert of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after they had come out of Egypt. In the desert the whole community grumbled against Moses and Aaron. The Israelites said to them, “If only we had died by the Lord’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death.” - Exodus 16:1-3

It's at this point that I want to say, "Are you kidding me?!" at this whole line of logic, but . . . I think I get it. I get where they're coming from. And I do the exact same thing. We have the benefit of hindsight when we read this story, we can see that obviously slavery is not a desirable way of life, and obviously the God that got them out of Egypt will also provide for them while they're out of Egypt.

But think for a second if you were one of them. Egypt is the only life they'd ever known. It was the land of their parents and their grandparents. Sure, it was a tough life, but it was the only life they knew. They were worked half to death, but they knew where their next meal was coming from. They were horribly mistreated, but at least they had a safe place to sleep at night. They were told to kill all their baby boys, but at least they still got to worship their God in relative peace. And when God said it was time to go, they followed. We see this as a great move of faith, and I truly think that it is, but what about right after? What about when they look around and realize they have to start completely over? What about when they realize they know absolutely nothing about what is about to happen to them?

They respond exactly how I would - with resistance, doubts, questions, and a healthy dose of complaining.

Can you imagine how frustrated God must have been with this? Think about his ultimate goal in taking the Israelites out of Egypt. He wanted to establish them as their own nation, a people set apart from the rest of the world, his chosen people. He wanted to be their ruler and he wanted them to remain his people. He would give them the Promised Land, he would give them authority over surrounding nations, and (most importantly) his presence would never leave them.

And they complained about being brought out of slavery.

More than that, God, through Jesus Christ, invited all people to be his holy and chosen nation and welcomed them into his kingdom that would one day bring about complete and utter renewal of the world that he created. He promised an eternal paradise with God and his people finally united with the intimacy that he envisioned in the Garden of Eden all those years ago.

And we complain when God tries to take us one step closer to that future.

When we go through these periods of impending change, when we wrestle with doubts about what the future holds, we tend to focus on the first half of the narrative: what God is calling us from. He's taking me out of a life that is safe and familiar and comfortable. He's forcing me to leave behind the existence I know and trade it for one that I don't. He's taking me on a death march through the wilderness when I was perfectly happy coasting through the world that I knew.

But what about the rest of the story? The desert wandering was just a chapter in the greater narrative of the people of God. What would happen if we started thinking about what God is calling us to? I believe that God has a destination in mind for us. I believe that God has something in store for us that is much better than the life we know or even the life that we could ever imagine. But we cling so tightly to the way of life that we're familiar with that we don't ever stop to think of what could be waiting ahead of us. He's dragging us along behind him, eyes fixed on the Promised Land ahead that he set aside just for us, while we pull as hard as we can back toward the paltry life he's just redeemed us from. We're doing ourselves a disservice. And we're very clearly not putting our faith in him.

So now I'm talking to you, fellow Americans. Because I know you're probably like me. Maybe you're not as bad with change as I am, but I'm almost positive you crave comfort just as much as I do. I want to encourage you. The road ahead isn't meant to be one that scares us. We, of all people, should be facing new opportunities with great joy and excitement. We serve the God who frees, the God who saves, the God who has a plan for his people, the God who makes all things new, the God who works all things for the good of those who love him. When God calls us out of our comfort, we have to know that something good is coming.

I want to leave with one more thought on this front. Jesus makes it perfectly clear that a life with him was never intended to be easy. In fact, he alludes to a lifetime of difficult work, people rejecting us, and the world hating us. We can't forget this part of Christianity when we invite Jesus into our lives. He frees, redeems, brings joy, and conquers, yes, but he also told us we've got work to do. Atang Agwe sums it up beautifully in her spoken word poem entitled "The Comfortable Christian:"

The Son of Man needs a permanent house, / Not a vacation home, / But it looks like you've made a home / Out of your comfort zone. 

Find some way to let go of your comfort in the coming weeks. And let's think about the Promised Land that might await us.

~RJS~