Hysteria Break - Hawai'i Aloha

I came across the video below the other day, and felt this blog would be the right place to share it. Maybe I need a mental break from The Great Recession and the H1N1 Swine Flu media hysteria.

The Hawaiian islands have always been a special place for me, ever since I was a kid. My grandparents had a winter home on the North Shore of Oahu.

Hawai'i Aloha is a revered anthem of the native Hawaiian people and Hawai‘i residents alike. Written by Lorenzo Lyons, a Christian minister who died in 1886. It is not the official state song, but just as well is, in the hearts of most native Hawaiians.

Hawai‘i Aloha is typically sung in both small and large, formal and informal gatherings in Hawai‘i while standing in a circle with joined hands. Traditionally, the last verse and chorus is sung with all hands raised above heads.

The artist here is Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwo'ole, who only lived to the age of 38, but seemed to have a wonderful spirit, which lives on in his music.

E Hawai‘i e ku‘u one hānau e Ku‘u home kulaīwi nei ‘Oli nō au i nā pono lani ou E Hawai‘i, aloha ē	O Hawai‘i, O sands of my birth My native home I rejoice in the blessings of heaven O Hawai‘i, aloha.
Hui: E hau‘oli e nā ‘ōpio o Hawai‘i nei ‘Oli ē! ‘Oli ē! Mai nā aheahe makani e pā mai nei Mau ke aloha, no Hawai‘i	Chorus: Happy youth of Hawai‘i Rejoice! Rejoice! Gentle breezes blow Love always for Hawai‘i.
E ha‘i mai kou mau kini lani e Kou mau kupa aloha, e Hawai‘i Nā mea ‘ōlino kamaha‘o no luna mai E Hawai‘i aloha ē (hui)	May your divine throngs speak Your loving people, O Hawai‘i The holy light from above O Hawai‘i, aloha. (chorus)

Isn't that just beautiful? Really now. That we all could have lives that express the spirit of this anthem. An anthem, a hymn of praise, sung holding hands on the beach, at twilight, under the palms.

Think these folks felt any closer to heaven? I do.

Too Many Choices, Shopping, and "We Walk"

What is the relationship between a seminary student from Denmark, a day at a desert indie rock concert, and the American church?

Asking a Question
Something sobering, sad and rather haunting happened to me recently. I asked a simple question, and received an answer I never anticipated.

We are friends with a young woman who is getting her masters at Fuller Seminary, who grew up in Denmark, and now, in her mid twenties, is studying here in Pasadena. As it turns out, being a Jesus follower in Norway can be quite strange. Norway has a state church, and 91% of the populous is listed as Christian. But, being an earnest Christian in Norway today can get one labeled as a cult member, or more likely just a religious wing-nut. The state church in Norway is essentially dead (read: six old ladies and a worn-out vicar). Our friend has earnestly sought to follow Jesus since she was 15. It has not been easy, and often lonely.

And so, my question. During a lunch meeting of about 20 folks, learning about the graduate programs at Fuller, our Norwegian friend mentioned, almost as an aside, "It has been interesting, getting used to the American church". This caught my attention, and I wanted to know what that comment meant. So I asked "What do you think of the American church? You can be candid, you are among friends." I really wanted to know the honest opinion of someone who is genuinely "outside of our system".

Her answer caught me completely unaware, and changed the mood of the entire room....to awkward silence and reflection...if only for a moment. Our Norwegian friend seemed somewhat surprised by the question, and had to pause for a moment, as tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. Obviously moved, she replied:

"I meet so many people here who seem to be constantly looking for the perfect church, one that meets all their needs. You know, just the right worship, just the right preaching, all the right programs. They are never happy with what they have." She stopped for a moment, to catch her breath, and continued, her voice slightly breaking as she spoke. "I just want to tell them, you have so many churches in which you can serve - please, just pick ONE, and settle in, and serve people, and love them!"

The room was silenced. Here we were, a room full of Americans, likely all with too many choices. Used to a culture that somehow has made us all a bit too picky, and unwilling to "settle in". Dallas Willard has written about some of these ideas, and they have made me think.

So what is our problem, we Americans? We like to shop around, and not commit - its easier that way. And if it does not work out, in life, or church for that matter - we bail, we give up, we walk.

An Illustration - Under the Desert Sun
Last weekend, as I have posted below, I spent time at the Coachella Music Festival. I like to go, as this gives me the chance to see how "the rest of the world" is getting along, in terms of youth culture, and indie music, and things that my daily life life does not see. Basically, its a chance for the Old Dude to see and hear things new.

One of my favorite groups was a British duo called The Ting Tings. They do amazing things with fun lyrics and a great beat. During their hour long act in a tent in the desert, they played a song that had me thinking - I came home and looked up the words.

"We Walk" (song embedding disabled, follow the link) - is a song about disappointment, and making decisions. But really, its a song about bailing, giving up, and walking. We do that a lot here in America, don't we?

You see the changes
In things that come
It's how you deal with it
When switching off
Make a decision
A precondition
We got the choice if
it all goes wrong

We walk, we walk
We walk, we walk

I wonder, what it might be like, if we could just settle, and not just....walk?

Disney Hall

Franz Liszt and Joshua Bell at Disney Hall!
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Sir Paul in the Desert

A year ago, I took my first trip to the desert with my oldest daughter and her friends, to experience the Coachella Music Festival for the first time.

This year, I took a trip to the desert again, (daughter in separate car - "Da-aaa-d, driving with you would be soooo uncool!") but I really ended taking a trip back in time, and experiencing perhaps the best rock concert I will ever see in my life.

Sir Paul McCartney was the headline act this past Friday night, and I will never forget the experience. Ever.

When Sir Paul came on the stage in a Nehru jacket and playing his Hofner bass, at about 10:20 PM, it was as if I had been strangely transported backwards by about 43 years. I suddenly and strangely remembered being at my friend Ebb Eskew's house in Arcadia, at about 7 years old, with Ebb playing for me his Beatles album. Ebb was crazy about the Beatles, it took me a little longer to get a clue. This was the British Invasion. Pop music would never be the same.

Sir Paul is now almost 67 years old, and except for some obviously slightly "color-assisted" hair, he looks great. The most moving moment of the show, captured in the amazing video below, was Sir Paul's reminding the audience that the evening's concert had fallen on the 11th anniversary of the death of his first wife, Linda, who passed away in Tucson, Arizona. From that moment on, Sir Paul had the audience entirely on his side. It was a magical experience, and I am thankful I was there.

Below find the best current available video clips of the concert, shot from the very front row...make sure to mash the little "HQ" button to get a better picture.

Ting Tings

This people, is/am/are the Ting Tings @ Coachella!
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Coachella Arrival

Coachella 2009 people. On stage now - Airborne Toxic Event. Yes, its a band.
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Good Friday

Today is Good Friday.

A day of remembering an event which often feels so immense that it seems the world can scarcely bear it. I know I hardly can. It is too hard, and painful, and deep and wide. It seems too much.

Tonight our family attended a Good Friday service of worship that is taken from an early Christian service called "Tenebrae". The name Tenebrae is the Latin word for "darkness" or "shadows." Through this service we experienced only a small portion of Christ’s pain and suffering the day of His crucifixion.

One of the most conspicuous features of the service is the gradual extinguishing of candles until only a single candle, considered a symbol of our Lord, remains. As it gets darker and darker we reflect on the great emotional and physical pain that was very real for Jesus that evening. Toward the end of the service, the Christ candle is removed from the sanctuary, typifying the apparent victory of the forces of evil over good. And at the end, we file out quietly into the night.

Tonight, right in the middle of this service, I was reduced to tears by something I completely did not expect. "Gabriel's Oboe" from Ennio Morricone, the composer of the film "The Mission" stole my heart, and lead me on several moments reflections of the impact of the one solitary life of Christ. A life that has changed the face of the planet, and a life that has changed my life. Forever. I sat and listened to this haunting piece, and reflected on all centuries of followers of Jesus, who for both good and bad intentions, have changed the face of this planet.

How could one life so permanently affect so much of humanity? How could this be so? How could one man, who died as an obscure radical - reach into history, and continue to touch and transform lives today? How could this be?

Take a few moments, and listen, and wonder. From Ennio Morricone's performance at the UN in 2007:

Coach

This video of John Wooden is about eight years old, but really, it is timeless.

Missile, Schmissile

And they say North Korea wants to launch a missile. I have something for your missile, Dear Leader!

Twittering the Gospel

Rob Bell was asked how he could present the gospel on Twitter. Although not 140 characters, this was his answer:

“I would say that history is headed somewhere. The thousands of little ways in which you are tempted to believe that hope might actually be a legitimate response to the insanity of the world actually can be trusted. And the Christian story is that a tomb is empty, and a movement has actually begun that has been present in a sense all along in creation. And all those times when your cynicism was at odds with an impulse within you that said that this little thing might be about something bigger – those tiny slivers may in fact be connected to something really, really big."

Also, this:

“And there is this group of people who say that whoever that being is came up among us and took on flesh and blood – Andrew Sullivan talks about this immense occasion the world could not bear. So a church would be this odd blend of swagger – and open tomb, come on – and humility and mystery. The Resurrection accounts are jumbled and don’t really line up with each other – I really relate to that. Yet something momentous has burst forth in the middle of history. You just have to have faith, and you get caught up in something.

I like to say that I practice militant mysticism. I’m really absolutely sure of some things that I don’t quite know.”

Very good. And honest. Me too.

Evacuation Theology

Recently Rob Bell was interviewed in CT – and shared a theology to which I wholly subscribe, although I am not a theologian. One comment in the article is that Mr. Bell is reframing the gospel in North America for the last couple of hundred years, with many of his comments contained within his new book Jesus Wants to Save Christians. I might just have to buy this book.

“The story (of the Scripture) is about God’s intentions to bring about a new heaven and a new earth, and the story begins here with shalom – shalom between each other and with our Maker and with the earth. The story line is that God intends to bring about a new creation, this place, this new heaven and earth here. And that Jesus’ resurrection is the beginning, essentially, of the future; this great Resurrection has rushed into the present.

The evacuation theology that says, “figure out the ticket, say the right prayer, get the right formula, and then we’ll go somewhere else” is lethal to Jesus, who endlessly speaks of the renewal of all things.”

Evacuation! I like this A LOT.

First, Mr. Bell is echoing N.T. Wright in many of his recent books in terms of “the Kingdom being at hand”. Second, I have to confess that I have been a subtle victim of this “evacuation theology” that has turned the church into a sometimes strange fortress against, rather than for, and involved with the world.

And finally, I am touched by Mr. Bell’s use of the present tense to describe Jesus’ words – note above that it is “endlessly speaks” that is used, rather than something like “spoke”. Imagine that, a resurrected Christ, one who still speaks.

Amen.

Looking Across The City, And Into the Abyss

I hardly ever talk about my work here on the blog. But today, something fascinating happened. I was allowed on a private tour (along with other real estate professionals), to the very top of Freedom Tower 7 - at the World Trade Center.

Above is the view from from the top floor of Freedom Tower 7 in New York. The first phase of the rebuild of the World Trade Center.

More soon....

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Racing Forward, Struggling Home, Disquieting Times

I had just come out of a late afternoon meeting.

Racing Forward
My mind had been engrossed in my work for the past several hours, and the earth had not waited for me, turning on its axis without my permission. Time rushing forward.

I walked into the parking lot next to a rush-hour street, above me hung a sublime golden twilight sky - the few wisps of white clouds looked like the perfect brush strokes of a master, painted with ease and perfection. Creation shouting, if I would but listen. The cars continued to rush by, and I was aware of a sense of timelessness, even in the midst of this busy commuter evening.

I got in my car, backed out of the parking space, and began the trip home. It was not two blocks away, when stopped at a busy intersection, I was presented with a visual, living reminder of the fleeting, struggling nature of this life we all lead.

Struggling Home
To my left, out of the car window, was an elderly man, towing behind him a small shopping cart. He was not on the sidewalk, but moving diagonally through the gas station on the corner. He was not moving easily, not at all. Not really walking, more like shuffling, very very slowly. It was as if he was existing in a time warp that was 1/5th that of everything around him. Going 15, in a world of 75 miles per hour.

The most striking feature, and the image that is burned in my memory now, was his posture. Or perhaps the complete lack of it. In fact, his body was almost completely bent over to the point where he did not look forward as he shuffled; rather, due to age, or time, or pain, or maybe disappointment, he looked down, directly at his feet. He moved so slowly, never looking up, towing his little cart of groceries.

Hurry up, little old man. Get out of that gas station parking lot, before someone honks at you, and scares the daylights out of you.

Time seemed to stand still just then. My mind filled with all sorts of thoughts, sitting at the traffic light, under that early evening sky:

Who was this old man?
Where was he going, and would he get home safely?
How much farther did he have to shuffle to be safe at home?
Did he have family? Did they know if he was ok?
Where had he been in life?
And what physical ailments, or emotional burdens had reduced him to this slow plodding shuffle?

And then, the light changed.

I eased forward, heading home. The old man continued his slow plod, in the opposite direction as me, receding in my side-view mirror.

I hope he did not have far to go. To get home. And as I moved on, the sky above this little scene glowed a brilliant orange and red that brought tears to my eyes.

Fitting It Together
The writer and philosopher Laurens van der Post, in his memoir of his friendship with Carl Jung, said, "We live not only our own lives but, whether we know it or not, also the life of our time." We are actors in a moment of history, taking part in it, moving it this way or that as we move forward or back. The moment we are living now is a strange one, a disquieting one, a time that seems full of endings."

I agree. Over the past several months, we have witnessed the sadness and loss of the death of two very dear friends. Two really wonderful men; one, Jim, passing far too early in life, from cancer. In his early 60's with way too much life left to live. Another friend, Frank, in his 80's, after a battle with Lou Gehrig's Disease that left him comatose for months, but still alive.

How might can I fit together these deaths, that struggling gas station man, and that stunning sunset together?

I am not sure how it all fits, other than to say that there is a form of great and tragic, wonderful and ominous orchestration going on around me, every day, if I would but take the time to see it all.

And, if I am a part of this symphony of life, may I play a joyous, hopeful, and comforting part.

Saying We Are Sorry

I stumbled upon a web site that is helpful for all of us Christ - follower types. It goes by the simple name of "Sorry" in banner links from other websites, and I might add it to my links. I think I will find it good for me to read from time to time. Maybe more often than that.

We Christian folk have done a lot of damage to people, and for that, I am very sorry.

Some apologies from the site that were meaningful to me:

I have been critical and expected you to live according to my expectations. I am sorry. -- Patsy

I am sorry that so often the church has twisted Jesus' message to exclude rather than include people. --Sally

I'm sorry that so many acts of kindness we bestowed upon you had strings attached. --Lee

I'm sorry that I joined with the multitude of Christians who were known by what (who) they are against, rather than what (who) they are for. That’s judgment, not grace! --Glenn

I am sorry that I ran off my mouth instead of just listening to you. --JP

For those of you who bothered to read up on Jesus, I know you read the wonderful stories about people flocking to Him and finding love. Or finding a miracle and you hoped that if you came to church you’d get some too. So you came with that last ember cupped in your hands, coming to find the God you’d read about and the love, treasure and the miracle. We stomped on it. I am mortified that we took your last hope and extinguished it. Lord have mercy. I am so sorry. --Sonja

I am sorry too. Sorry for the life I have lead thus far, ensconced in the little Christian social bubble I have built around me. About not seeking out people in my life, and just loving them, without an agenda. For not listening, for being self absorbed. I am sorry for the gigantic undercurrent of Christian folk in this country that have created a consumer culture that rivals that of WalMart, instead of really loving people till it hurts, and making disciples of Jesus.

I am sorry for the shallowness of my faith, and for ignoring the depth of pain and questioning in the lives of those around me.

I am really sorry for judging those around me, just because they don't go to church every Sunday like me.

I am just sorry.

God Speed Discovery!

I saw this in person about 17 years ago; a night launch. This one was earlier today. I love this stuff.

German Tragedy

Tonight, all we can do is pray for the community of Winnenden, Germany.

My Inner Peter

It's Lent, and so, a season to reflect on the end of Jesus' life.

They were sitting around a fire. Sort of like a campfire. It was the final night of Jesus' life.

And Peter was there. You know, The Rock of the Church, and the thoroughly ordinary, all in one. He was by that campfire too. Eyes nervously darting around. Not willing to look anyone in the face, at least for very long, for fear the expression on his own face might give away the feelings that were churning around inside him. Much like those feelings that swirl around inside us all at times, when we know we have been self-absorbed, let others down, lied, or acted like a fool with people we love. I do those things lots.

That Peter. Like me. The one that denied Christ three times. The one who was a general disappointment.

The other day, I came across this, from the Gospel of Luke:

⁶⁰Peter replied, "Man, I don't know what you're talking about!" Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. ⁶¹The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: "Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times." ⁶²And he went outside and wept bitterly.

I am familiar with this story, and have read it many times, and skipped right over one little piece - right there, in the middle.

"The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter."

I have been stuck there now, thinking about that look, for several days.

What was in that look; how would his gaze have looked to me? Could I have sensed what he was thinking? How would it have made me feel; would I have felt the warmth coming to my face, if I had received that gaze from him?

I asked a very wise theologian about that look, just the other day. His response was, "I would like to think that look was the same look on the face of the Father in the prodigal son story." Perhaps.

Then I wondered if there might have been something else in that look; very different emotions that we have heard about Jesus that put us more on edge. Like the time he got fed up with smart guys. And probably with humanity a little too, perhaps. He got mad on occasion, that Jesus.

And then I asked my wife what she thought of that look. Her response was similar to my own thoughts. "Maybe that look was full of a thousand different emotions". Exactly. Sadness, regret, understanding, empathy, frustration, anger, resignation, pity. How many human emotions are there? So many were likely contained in that look.

So, I am back to thinking about Peter, and what made him sit by that fire, and what made him deny the most important relationship in his young life. And I am back to that look.

I think I have an Inner Peter.

Magnificent

I was born
I was born to be with you
In this space and time
After that and ever after I haven't had a clue
Only to break rhyme
This foolishness can leave a heart black and blue

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love can heal such a scar

I was born
I was born to sing for you
I didn't have a choice but to lift you up
And sing whatever song you wanted me to
I give you back my voice
From the womb my first cry, it was a joyful noise...

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love can heal such a scar

Justified till we die, you and I will magnify
The Magnificent
Magnificent

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love unites our hearts

Justified till we die, you and I will magnify
The Magnificent
Magnificent
Magnificent

The End of Alone

I found this article, and the accompanying video below a bit damning....and true. What am I becoming?

DePaul U In DeSnow

Bit cold out for the campus housing tour, I should say. Great day!
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Snow!

Forecast: Flurries
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Mmm. Deep Dish

When visiting foreign cultures, it is important to try the food of the natives. We like these natives, and their food!

Our Hotel View

The view of the Lincoln Park zoo and Hancock building from our hotel; we are 5 minutes by car (and 20 minutes if you want to walk in this weather) from the DePaul campus.

Famous Kelly line several weeks ago, when discussing DePaul University's location in Chicago: "Wait, Chicago is near water? What?"

So much for high school geography. Our public schools are flawless.

Off for Due's pizza in a while.

Leaving for DePaul

At LAX. Mom dropped us off a bit early.

Fun times, waiting an extra hour for your flight. Note approaching plane outside window. Luckily, it stopped prior to thonking Kelly in the, um, back end.

25 Random Things

After several of my friends tagged me for the 25 things, I am relenting, and posting my 25 things. Unfortunately, as I am a somewhat dull fellow, I should only really post about 12 things. If you suffer from sleep disorders, read this, and you will very likely be snoring by #5.

There is some unwritten rule that you have to tag 25 other people, and coerce, shame, or somehow force them to write their own 25 things. I have no intention of doing that. But I have tagged some of you....not that it means anything, mind you.

So, here goes, Steve's Amazingly Mundane 25 Things...in no particular order:

1. I share the same birthday (not year) as both Lionel Richie and Brian Wilson. I am sure this has deep meaning. Michael Jackson and I are almost the same age, having missed each other's birthdays by a matter of weeks. Again, profound hidden meaning here. Its up to you to interpret.

2. I am an only child. My Mom used to tell a story that when I was 3 or 4 years old, I would sit next to a little hole in the wooden fence of our neighbors yard, put my eye up to the hole, and call out for the little girl (same age) next door to come and play. Is that sad or what? Don't worry, my story gets better.

3. If left alone on a desert island, and only allowed one type of food, it would be the In N' Out menu. Manna from God, as far as I am concerned. Call me shallow.

4. Many years ago, I smuggled Bibles into the former Eastern Block. On multiple occasions. It was scary, and hysterical, and amazing. It changed my life forever, and I am not kidding.

5. My Dad was a B-17 bomber pilot during World War II. I am very proud of this, and of my Dad, for his service to our Country.

6. I have a lifelong fear of grasshoppers. Ask my daughters about this; it a source of humor for them.

7. If I could have one job other than the one I have (which I love, and am very thankful for) it would be as a Boeing 747 captain. But only for a year or so, I think it might get boring after a while, and the staying in hotels and airport food would soon loose its glamor.

8. I am an early adapter. Cell phones, computer stuff, solar power. I love technology.

9. The older I get, the less I know for sure, but the deeper my faith feels to me.

10. I enjoy just about all kinds of music, but I find my tastes changing over time. Right now, I am rediscovering Stevie Wonder, I love anything John Rutter rights or conducts, and I just love going to Disney Hall for classical concerts.

11. I once blew out my knee in a burger restaurant, slipping on a lump of guacamole that had been spilled on the floor. Its true. Pathetic, but true. I would have like to have been able to say I was saving a drowning child or something noble. But no. Such is my life.

12. My last two years at college I had a press pass to all the football and basketball games. I took photos for UCLA right on the field / court. It was very cool. I nearly got killed in a couple of sideline tackles and full court break-aways.

13. While we are on college, after my freshman year, I had the best job in the world (save for the pay), or so I thought. Summer of 1977. I was in charge of the golf carts at the Rivera Country Club. I used to hang with Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Bill Cosby, and Glen Campbell. Really, they were nice guys. I could play all the golf I wanted, every day, after 4PM, AND bring a friend for free. I once shot an 84 at Riviera. I have a witness.

14. I have been to Fairbanks, Alaska for work. Everything about Alaska is completely overwhelming, and awe inspiring. God definitely out did himself when He created Alaska.

15. I received fuzzy Crocs for Christmas from my family this year. My daughters are horrified at the thought of me wearing them in public. To them, its worse than wearing sandals and dark socks.

16. I used to be the little bartender for my parents house parties when I was growing up. I would wear a little vest and dress slacks. It was frightening.

17. Only children almost always still give me the creeps. I think that is related to Number 16.

18. I have witnessed a night time Space Shuttle launch. The closest they let you get to the launch pad is something like 3 or 5 miles away, and the violence of the liftoff ignition still (from that far away!) literally thumps against your chest. Words cannot describe the visual, physical, and emotional sensation of it. Ask someone who has seen one. It defies description.

19. My greatest living hero is John Wooden. I have a basketball signed by him in my house.

20. I cannot understand how anyone can travel on a commercial flight without getting a window seat. I mean, you get to FLY! And all the stuff God made, it's right there outside the window....to see! Even if its cloudy below, the view, people!

21. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be the Dad of the two amazing daughters that live at our house (for only a bit longer now). And I never thought I would be married to such a total babe as my wife. I love you Nance!

22. I am a crappy skier. Its just not in my genes.

23. I did not try sushi until I was about 35 years old. Previously, I had thought, "Ew, raw fish". Now, I think, "Ew, stupid me." I lead a sheltered life. And, as you can see, I am running out of steam here.

24. James Taylor is amazing. He could sing the phone book, and I would be happy. I know, I am SO middle-aged. Deal with it.

25. Like my friend, Nate, I often doubt myself, feel insecure, wonder about why bad things happen to good people, cry over suffering, get needlessly angry at little things, say insensitive things to people I love, and worry that I am gradually becoming a grumpy old guy like my Dad. But then, I remember that my life is not my own, that I have been miraculously redeemed, and that God loves me more than I will ever know. Its times like these that I am reminded of my favorite verses from the Scriptures, from II Corinthians 12:

"My grace is enough; it's all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness.
Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become."