Every Tuesday I have the opportunity to get together with a small group of young adults. Basically, we just fellowship, pray and praise the Lord, together.

It's pretty darn cool!

The group was inspired to get together, once a week, at the end of a week-long conference in Kansas City. (check out http://www.ihop.org/ )

We returned from IHOP (or The International House of Prayer) two weeks ago, on fire, submerged in fellowship with like-minded young men and women, on the basis that we are the Body of Christ.
Praying is easy. Having grown up in the church, I find that praying together is probably one of the most easy activities to participate in. It's simple, clear, your roll is cut out and clearly defined.

However, being only into the second week of this fellowship group, I have already found that I'm an oddity amongst believers. Okay, so that sounds pretty darn self-focused... but it really hadn't dawned on me until yesterday that I am weird!

Not just weird, like, "I'm a nerd, kind'a geeky, and an odd duckling," type of weird, but weird on a totally new level!

Most of the group arrived about an hour early to intercede on behalf of those who would come for fellowship, later on in the evening. These are faithful, committed people who, I have found, are deeply committed to prayer on a level that the majority of modern-day Christians are not.
They prayed for an hour. One whole, entire, complete hour... and then some...

Praise GOD for young men and women like this!

Because all but three people in the group had been at the church, praying together, interceding for one another, serenading in the Word, they were, more or less, already in the mood and
comfortable enough to start getting vulnerable with each other.

One of the guys opened the group up with his testimony; How God took his ashes and turned it into beauty. How God took a person who was committed to himself, bringing to a place where he became committed to others, but more importantly, to Christ.

Wow!!

Yeah, okay, so I've heard the 'typical' "I was a druggie and alcoholic" story before, but this was someone real and tangible. Someone I know, or at least, am acquainted with. Someone I get together and fellowship with every week. Someone I drove down to IHOP with.

The next testimony was given by a young woman who, in all honesty, I respect. She has a story of her own, laced with the lonely and broken life of a little girl with an alcoholic father, and worse.
A similar story to the young man's who opened up the group.

Three young people, who all grew up in the church, shared their stories of addiction, religion as apposed to faith and feeling the need to be a savior to others because the love of Jesus wasn't enough. All three told the story of how Christ justified them, and how they are being cleansed through Him.

There were a couple more testimonies, similar to the one's stated above. However, the last one was told by a young man (who, apparently, is either older than I thought, or lived life to it's absolute fullest between preteen-hood and young-adulthood) shared his story of substance abuse, alcohol and over all immorality. He shared how God, almost quite literally, walked into his life, inviting him into the plan Jesus had for him.

As I listened to each story of how God reached in and invited these lovely people to "Follow Him," I wondered if I should share my story...
But after hearing the last, incredible, "beauty from ashes" tale, I decided against it.

What could I have to share with these people, who have lived life. The life I have been told I'm "missing out on."
Honestly, I have never really thought that I've "missed out" on anything in life, save peer pressure, an every-day social life and peer group, and many like-minded people.
I'm home schooled, and quite proud of that small fact, that makes up who I am.

Most home school people, at least those my age, I have found, are either rather lonely, or have the money and recourse's to be knit in to many groups, and keep themselves very active in life. Not to stay I haven't kept active, rather I have not had many things to fill my time, which is a choice our family has made, in order to pay for and insure other things in our life.

What could I have to offer these people, who have lived life, when I have so obviously not. How can I share a testimony that is very not beauty from ashes, but rather a constant search and seeking of Truth, acting on that Truth, falling flat on my face, stumbling, getting back up (or at least trying to), and "just keep walking..."

I don't have some dramatic saga of drugs, excessive drinking or any sort of addiction. To be honest, I find alcohol rather gross tasting and really don't understand what some people find so wonderful about it...
And in no way am I being sarcastic. I truly believe these people will have amazing ministries! Really, truly and honestly! This is something that has been very much impressed upon me - they will have have incredible ministries! Successful ministries.

World changing ministries.

But last night, I felt as though my lack-of-life, or weirdness, if you will, was magnified by about one-hundred. And it was probably just me being weird and overly-sensitive... or was it?
I have never been in the place where these young people are coming from. Never had those experiences. Never known the type of family they grew up in. Heck, I can't even begin to comprehend understanding! And they probably feel the same way about me, understandably.

As I have been thinking about Tuesday night, mulling over everything that happened, a lot of emotions that bubbled over and all the tears, I catch myself wondering "was it worth it?"

I have been asked this question by seemingly like minded people, "is it worth never having dated?" "Is it worth never having smoked or drank?" My response is basically, "well I think wine is gross, and beer is probably worse (I'm too "afraid" to try it though). I have only ever been asked on a date by a non-Christian, who I am committed to not dating. And the stories I have heard about smoking make it sound like an awful experience, and I don't like the health problems that go along with it..." Laughter, and a hearty "you little weirdo" usually follow these short-lived conversations.

These conversations, the type of settings like Tuesday night make me relate to Psalm 73 even more, especially the verses 13-14.

"Surely I have cleansed my heart in vain,

And washed my hands in innocence.

For all day long I have been plagued,

And chastened every morning."

These words are written by psalmist Asaph, who is talking about trust, doubts, envy and faith in God. Yes, faithlessly asking whether the purging of your sins and the cleansing of yourself before God is worth it is doubt. However, doubting, questioning and seeking Truth for yourself is part of owning your faith, as an individual. Therefore, I am not afraid to question when I doubt. When one questions why they are doubting and if there is really something to doubt, they are seeking Truth in its absolute fullest, I believe. It's an ebb and flow of life. Doubt runs into questioning, which runs into seeking, and a seeker nearly always finds what they are looking for, if they are really seeking to find, not merely seeking to doubt...

But I have gotten onto a tangent and conversation which I must save for a later date :)

My parents have held me to the highest standard of purity, morality and personal choices, that they know. They have raised all of us kids in this way. And succeeded quite brilliantly, I must say! But as I sat there, listening to these beautiful stories - unfinished stories - I realized how different my story how, and so how different the ministry, God has laid before me, is.

My life, maybe, instead is a living testimony. A testimony for right now, today, this moment. Not something down the road. Maybe my ministry is simply living, being, breathing, being filled with God's life.

Maybe the call for me isn't to be a huge radical evangelist, but a person who evangelises through day-to-day living... trough a life where weirdness to the US culture is normality for me.

Maybe I've been drafted to be a light by living, as Russ Duritz on The Kid claims, "a chick-less, dog-less looser with a twitch..." Except, in my case, it would be "a hunk-less, twitch-less looser with a dog," and through this "letting my light shine."

God richly bless and keep you!!

Quiet Thoughtfulness... And the Lack there of!

There is a quiet thoughtfulness about the country,
that the city thoroughly lacks.

We have lived in the city, or at least a bed room community, now for about three months.
The differences between country life and city life are extreme!

I have found the differences more than fascinating, especially now that I have seen a decent art of both worlds, living in each at one time in life or another.
I've found it easier to see the differences when I compare and contrast, and would like to share some with you. So.. I will walk you through a hypothetical idea of the day-to-day adventures of my week in both the country and city life (these scenario's also use a hyperbole)
Hypothetically, Monday morning:You roll out of bed around six-thirty in the morning. After lying in bed for a few moments you become more aware of the sounds, sights and smells surrounding you. The air is laced with the scents of wood, dust and organic-ness... it smells cold... Quickly you become aware of the icy air touching your nose.
Most winter days you try to stay in bed as long as possible, for as soon as you remove the warm pile of comforters and quilts, about four in all, you are eagerly greeted by an icy hug from Jack Frost and Miss. Winter.
The bare wood floors are positively freezing! As quickly as possible you put on a pair of ratty fleece socks over wool socks, before allowing the thoroughly cold floors to touch your already chilled toes.
You have a vanity table, or mirror, in your room, giving you the capability to almost completely prepare yourself for the day.
As you walk down the squeaky wood floors the dogs yap good morning at you, your little sister smiles and races over to you, giving you a morning hug and kiss on the cheek.
Mom is probably doing her morning devotionals in the dining room chair, which is precariously placed in front of the South-East facing window. A cup of coffee is lazily giving off steam, on the cherry wood coffee table, standing next to the chair mom is reading in.
Dad is eating his breakfast, then rushes to and fro, making sure all is ready to leave for work.
A loud thump announces the awakening of the two brothers. A few more thumps, a shriek, a bang against a wall... silence! Another shriek... Of course you are used to all these normally unnerving sounds. They are the noises that tell you every one is awake, and alive and well. :)
A hypothetical idea of a Monday morning, in the City:
The alarm clock trumpets you into reality: Monday Morning... You press the "dismiss" button on your alarm... 7:30 AM... You hear a car hurrying it's way down the road.

Snuggled deep amongst a down-comforter, the warmth of the room automatically gives you a cheery outlook on the day.
You look at the ceiling, listening intently to the silence around you... surely something... someone.. somewhere... is awake... The sweet aromas of sleepiness, clean laundry and coffee dripping into a coffee pot surround you.
The air smells warm... Not hot.. a little cool, but not cold. You prepare yourself for the day.
You can hear a sibling peacefully snoozing, completely unaware of the sights, noises and smells you have observed in the past two minutes.

The two family dogs talk to each other up the stairs, through the garage door; they are waiting for you to feed and scratch them.
The thick, soft, warm carpet squishes between bare toes, as you make your bed and walk up the stairs, from the basement, to be greeted by mom and dad. They have been up long before you, and are passionately conversing as a hot, dark pot of freshly brewed coffee beckons to you...


Of course there are many, many, other differences between country and city life. Far too many for me to go into, no matter how many posts I write :)
However, probably one of the most stunning, shocking, and wild thing I have been absolutely stumped by is clothing. Strange? Oh yeah!
Never, ever, when we lived in the country, would I have worn a white shirt. Never! This would not only invite, but insure dirt, filth and complete and total ruination to the cloth!
It's silly, seemingly small, and relatively non-life changing, but in a sense it is life style changing. White articles of clothing in my closet are no longer a big deal because, well, I'm not hauling wood for heat nearly every day, I'm no longer petting, holding filthy barn cats (the thought of which still doesn't and never will keep me from continuing to hold them),we no longer live on a dirt road (cutting down on the dust collection immensely), and the list goes on.
We have gone to the local library a couple of times this week, already. When mom needs something from town, like to drop off a movie rental, it's very much "would you go run this errand for me," as apposed to "let's plan going into town this day, saving up all our errands for this one given day.. and if you forget something, you'll just have to wait until the weekend, or next week."
It's rather strange!
Very different. A cultural clash!
There are so many differences.
Although I could not even describe the flood of thoughts, emotions, feelings and ideas that overwhelm my mind, I think I will just sum it up in these two pictures.

The view from our home, in the country, taken from our bath room window,

which is directly above our kitchen window.

Another

The view from our house, now... isn't it lovely?

I especially love being able to see into our neighbors window... YIKES!

I am BLESSED!

A few moments ago I was scanning through the many pictures I have taken of our home since the fire. These two especially caught my attention.

Perhaps just from the sentimentality of a melancholy personality feeling sorrowful about losing their home - their one true home, after living in five other houses and three other states.

Or maybe it's the sudden realization that this will be the first year in my entire life that I won't be spending Christmas at home.

Whatever the reason, these two pictures really mean a great deal to me. A boy, a country boy to the core of his being, and his two dogs. Diamond (far left) is ten years old and still a beautiful, faithful, family pooch.

Our home of six years has finally decided to call it quits. Oddly enough, it's a bit like saying goodbye to a dear and old friend. There's a lot of history in that house.

I guess when the unexpected hits, it's harder to let go than when you expect something bad to happen. For instance, I expected to be excitedly anticipating pulling out all our dozens of twinkle lights this weekend, and us all bundling up in thousands of layers to defiantly strike out into the prairie tundra and pick out a gigantic eight and a half foot tall Christmas tree. Then we will all squish in our small living room that the tree has now completely taken over, and begin to decorate it with ornaments older than myself, while listening to Wow Christmas from five years back, and sipping on mugs, not cups, mugs, of hot chocolate and stove-warmed apple cider with cloves and cinnamon in it.

For the past several years Hannah and I have made pop-corn balls for the entire family, while the boys get the Christmas tree in the house. Last year we dyed them green - they were so disgusting looking, especially when the syrup was still gooey!! But they tasted so good.

Yummmm!

Maybe I'll just have to go buy some corn syrup, pop-corn and other ingredients and make pop-corn balls despite not living in an inspiring old, craftsman style farm house with lots of character.
I have been so incredibly blessed to have had the opportunity to live many years on an acreage with dogs, cats, and at one time a horse, geese, ducks, chickens, goats and sheep.
I'm blessed to have had the opportunity to grow up with my siblings, as my mom has patiently home schooled each one of us children.
Blessed to know the one true Living God is watching over us, holding us in His hands, taking care of our every need, watching our backs, and providing for us as we need it - maybe not more than we need, but certainly enough to sustain us for today!
I'm blessed to have four siblings, live in a free country, have lived by a river where we can wade during hot, stuffy Summer days, catch guarder snakes and frogs, eat fresh strawberries from our big garden, and sit in an aged animal shed with barn swallows cackling at me from their perch above my head, sweet smelling hay surrounding me, and kittens purring.

I am blessed!

Pearl of Great Price

The creator, continuing to create.

Always creating...

The poppa, or daddy, always arms outstretched for us.

Always yearning to show us more of His creation,

and desiring to teach us

to create as He creates.

Every morning, and every evening,

He finger paints.

And every time a person begins to paint the sun rise

and sun-set

They begin to see how vast the colors,

and great the imagination of God is

- too big to understand.

This morning a dear, dear heart-friend asked me what "I'm learning through this all."
It's stuck in my head, and I can't get it out! Generally, I communicate things through the visual arts, but since I have no medium which can communicate these thoughts at this time I'll do my best to explain via electronics (not at all my first choice, but ita vita**)

Like I said, I communicate best through the arts. I'm a kinesthetic/ visual learner - an artist, if you will. My out let is the visual and kinesthetic arts, such as photography, painting, charcoal and pencil drawings and, when I can get my hands on it, pottery (no pun intended).

I had art pieces from when I was five and six that I wanted to redo and add to as I got older, saved up in the attic and organized in folders in my room and at my desk. Pieces that meant something to me: my first drawing of our mutt, Sandy, when I was seven; pastels of girl-friends who I participated in art internships with (and have amazing memories of); the only canvas-oil painting I have of a South Dakota winter; and a few personal-spiritual charcoal pieces that mean something to me as an individual. Two years ago I sorted out all those and kept only the sentimental, and of those the only best pieces.

Last weekend I "sorted," again, the remaining art work. Except, in this context, "sort" is another term for "throw away absolutely everything but the ones that you'll cry over because there is little to no room to store any of it." So I have but a box remaining. One pitiful box of collages, drawings, paintings, and two pieces of pottery one of which is discolored from the heat of the fire.

As I sorted through each piece, a memory of a friend, Grace Johnson (also an artist) came to mind.
Grace is a potter, but she is also a speaker, or more appropriately, a woman's minister.
During one of her presentations a story she told thoroughly welded itself into my mind.

"There are some pieces (of pottery) that I create that I feel an emotional attachment too... there was this pot I had created, and I felt so jealous of it I kept it in a special case and just loved to look at it and, it sounds silly, but caress it - it had such amazing texture! I didn't want to sell it to anyone because then it wouldn't be with me, it wouldn't be mine, and I would have to share it with someone. this is how God feels about us! We are His pieces of art, His pottery, that He doesn't want to share with others that draw us away from Him."

Perhaps you find this slightly psychotic, but no worries, it's not. It makes perfect sense. There were probably three pieces of art that I had done (I believe all in charcoal), which had deep emotions and spiritual meaning to me. I mean spiritual in the philosophical and relationship with Yahweh sense.

There have been one or two other circumstances which I'm prohibited from sharing details with as it simply is not the appropriate time, nor place (and, in my opinion, simply is not my place to share), but which also adds an even greater dimension and deeper impact on this thought process that has begun, about being the art work of God - His valuable piece of pottery that He longs for and desires; that He has created and yearns to be with at all times.

But in this situation, which I will share no details about, I have been utterly confounded at the complete deepness and determined loyalty/ faithfulness Christ/ God (even the trinity??) has in committing Him selves into pursuing us, unrelentingly.

The shear and utter jealous passion Christ has for us!

He wants to share us with no other lovers! He desires us to turn our hearts singly, only, willingly, and submissively towards HIS desires - to HIM. To run - not walk, not saunter, not jog, not ever look back, but run into HIS arms and allow HIM to embrace us and not let us go.

He does not want you to desire that which is of the world. He does not want you to love your home more than Him, which I am thoroughly convicted of.

He does not, absolutely not, want your obedience to Him to be conditional, as, "well if you give me this, or let me stay here, or allow me to do this... then I will obey."
And He certainly doesn't want you to exclude yourself from the rule "Turn your eyes (and thoughts, and heart, and soul, and mind) to Jesus."

Now, please keep in mind, He isn't an wrinkled old geezer sitting on a rock muttering "those darn humans.. stupid little imps... always wanting what their flesh desires, and never wanting me..." And then, upon seeing a human saying "You darn human you!! You want riches, lovers, prosperity and kingdoms, but you don't want me (a wrinkled old geezer)" ZAAP! And electrocuting you with a wand, on the spot... or something like that...

Nor is He some Zeus who lusts after beautiful young women, or an Aphrodite who lusts after handsome young men, and desiring you in a sexual manner.

Nor is He a rich and wise king, like Solomon, who has it all but just wants "more, more, more!" And is never content with life as it is, but instead in the end cries "vanity, vanity... meaningless, meaningless..."

No, no, no!


God is beyond that. Maybe we label God as these (perhaps slightly) extreme figures because this is all our brains can comprehend... At this point my mind fondly returns to the movie "Dinosaur" when Yar, the grandfather lemar tells Aladar his adopted-dinosaur-grandson, "I can fit that monsters brain in the palm of my (hand)" and opening his palm, laughing at his genius insult, looks at a dinosaur ten times his size. I think this pretty much explains the human condition fairly well.

So often we turn to lovers who pursue and love on us; money which calls to us; homes which comfort us; families who protect us; popularity that offers attention; friends who entertain us... and the list goes far and away beyond anything that could be written in one blog post.

The point is, YOU, not your neighbor, but YOU that God is talking to, are HIS pearl of great price!! That special piece of art work that He designed and created so uniquely - so imago Deo *** - that He yearns for your attention. He longs for you to look Him in the eye and say,

"I want you. I love you. I choose you."

After designing you, He said:

"I want to be the only lover in your life!"

"I want to be the only thing you pursue - I can take you to great places!"

"I want to be with you for eternity!"

"I want to just watch you!"

"I want to enjoy you!"

"I want you to allow me to fall deeply into love with you, and I want you to fall deeply into love with me!"

"If you allow me to fill your heart, mind and indeed, your very soul - if you welcome me in and let me be the only lover in your heart, then I can take you into that which I originally created for you..."

And the completion to that last statement is "and this world and what it's got to offer ain't it huny!"
His love isn't sensual, conditional, shallow, or selfish in a two-year old way (I want it because she has it!).

He desires you because He created you, and as an artist, He longs to see His art work at work - doing His work, creating as He creates, and loving as He loves. And in order to do that you've got to be working with Him; obeying Him, pursuing Him, longing for Him, praising Him, and kicking out those other desires which do and are keeping you from Him and all that He desires for you (and He desires great and magnificent things for you!)

** 'Ita vita' is a Latin phrase, meaning "such is life."

*** 'Imago Deo' is Latin for "the image of God"

God Richly Bless and Keep!

Miss Elisabeth

Home Sweet Home

During a blizzard in the Prarrie

Ginger bread house: Dec 2008
Christmas time is here! Dec 2008

Yeah.. it does have a Calvin and hobbes look to it, doesn't it?

Derek and I made one before this one with

a choke chain and cow bone in it's mouth.

I thought it was funny. Mom found it disturbing ;)

Christmas Decor

My East facing window

Nestled in the freshly cut tree hides a

fragile cream colored Christmas bulb

I think December 2008:

Picking the tree is very tiring. Cutting the tree down is SO much easier

Our "back yard" Dec 2007

Glistening in the afternoon sun is a

ice-laced ash tree

The "front yard" Dec 2007

Ethan and Hannah Dec 2007

My home means a lot to me!

I could be quite happy staying home all day, so long as we have the animals, friends and family. the more family with me the better. Cooking is a blast – I loved our kitchen despite it’s irritating qualities. My bed room was probably the best place to be, especially when the dog was able to hang out up there with me, and the Christmas light were all up, glowing happily despite the setting sun. A back drop of blushing pink, tangerine neon and captivatingly vivacious blue hung behind the two six pane East and North facing windows in my room.

My favorite spot to sit and wrap Christmas presents, starting about this time of year, with Stacie Orrico and Nicole C. Mullin belting out Christmas lyrics in the background, was in the corner of the room, between the East and North facing windows. Snuggled under my periwinkle blue plaid feather down blanket, with a cup of home made hot cocoa, harmonizing along, wrapping gifts in boxes, then duct tape, then paper, then another box, more duct tape, and finally topping off with wrapping paper and an elegant bow, I would sit in that North-East corner, glancing out the window to watch the sun set, listen to the wild out door noises (such as the occasional mountain lion scream – not a comforting sound), the cats bawling, my family laughing down stairs, the dogs talking and snow floating down, grazing window panes, resting on tree branches, dead leaves and golden brown grass.

This is what I wanted to do this year, again, after enjoying Thanksgiving, and picking out the biggest, most lush, and fullest Christmas Tree from Tananbaums Tree Farm, the weekend following Thanks Giving - an art form in our Home: The Thanks Giving dinner and season as a whole. We probably would have started decorating the house for Thanks Giving by now.

Honestly, what I’ll miss the most, is not having Christmas at home this year. The wood floors, smell of pine tree overwhelming the house, Christian artists humming Christmas carols on CDs, and the incredibly light décor about the entire house (including some bed rooms and sparkling beneath the snow, hanging from the house). Colored lights sparkling from beneath red gauze boes, peeking out between sparkling snow, and soft green pine needles on little pine trees outside.

November 2009

I was going to put a decent sized post on here, but the words won't come out. It's a little bit like on the movie Miss Potter, for those of you who have seen it, when she is trying to paint, but the only thing that comes out are sad looking bunnies and angry carnivorous fish. I laugh at this analogy myself. It's rather pitiful, in my point of view.

I'm sorry this is short, not necissarily sweet, and quite blunt and strait forward - I'm really sick of fluff and mush.

So, to cut to the chase:

The house is in very sad condition. It seems like a good 'ol friend breathing it's last. The entire family is really hurting, deeply hurting over this. Life has stripped our identities of one thing after another. Forget jobs being identity, family, friends, or money. Just how life is. Deal.

Dad is sick with walking pneumonia and sentanced to a week of rest. He is going to be completing week one of "Rest" (for an over-acheiving Nehring, prison sounds more fun than this - at least in prison one can evangelize and DO rather than sit around twiddling thumbs feeling like garbage physicaly). He will be seeing the doctor again, not later than this weekend (I am taking it a personal responsiblity to see to it that this happens). The doctor said he has some bronchitis which morphed into pneumonia and if he does not take special care to get better he could get H1N1 and be hospitlized quite easily. This, absolutely, will not happen. :)

We have been richly and generously blessed with clothing for the two little one's, myself, and with winter gear. "Enough," in a very light sense, has been provided for dad, Derek and mom. I would love to see that mom get's more clothing, as well as dad and my brother.

For those of you who know and care about our two wonderful dogs:
Diamond, who is ten, is doing horrid. Her breed rarely lives past ten, maybe eleven, and almost definitaly not past twelve. She will be pushing eleven this coming April. She has cronic ear infections, and it has gotten siginificantly worse. She is nearly deaf, and we have not been able to take care of her, ourselves, since the fire. She has been with some friends much further in the country than ourselves. Depression is her current fad, she seems very sad, and lonely for her people, and has slowed down, physicaly, very much.

Ursa, my one year old puppy on the sixteen is depressed, but healthy. She's extremely aloof and her character has changed almost completely. Almost a year of training has gone to the pits.

Neither dogs have been cared for by us since the fire, last month. As I said, Diamond has consistantly been with some friends very far in the country. Ursa was with some dear friends in the city for a week, then was with Diamond in the country. Both dogs are spending the night in a shed on our property, which Derek a dear friend and I secured for the two today.

We are praying for and seeking out options for the dogs: kennels, friends, farmers, friends of friends, families of friends, etc., etc., etc.

We are also looking for a house to rent. In all honesty, we will probably be staying there for at least a year. We're going on week two as far as house searching is going. It's depressing.

Thank you for all your support! I deeply appreciate it!

God richly bless

Refined by Fire - FYI

Just For the what it's worth department - I updated the need list.
Sorry I haven't updated for the past several days. We have been in Ohio for my dear and loving Aunts Funeral. The funeral was honoring, beautiful and honest.

God richly Bless and Keep