practice resurrection

So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

.
.

Practice resurrection.

(snippets from Wendell Berry’s 1973 poem, “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front”from The Country of Marriage)

I’ve been meaning to read more of Wendell Berry and summer seems like a good time to “get around to it.” The vibrant green leaves and the smell of blooming peonies seem a fitting backdrop to his poetry. I map my runs to intentionally include the rowdy peony bushes on S. 3rd Street. I always “stretch” long enough to fill my lungs with peony air before putting my race face on again.

The smell of peony makes me sad for people who don’t lean over to breathe in their beauty.

And that’s why Wendell Berry’s advice to, “practice resurrection” is nestling nicely somewhere deep in my soul. We are so forgetful. We live like we don’t know we’re resurrected. We live like we’re not sure how this day will end. We live like Christ’s resurrection was too long ago to rearrange my daily toil. We live like all the wonder in the wind moving through the trees is something not everyone has the time to admire.

We live like we’ve forgotten how to practice resurrection.

We were dead in our trespasses and sins. Dead. Gone. Lost. Limp. Lifeless. Stuck. Trapped. Suffocated. Dead.

There’s no way to make that sound nice or easy. But if that were the end, I would have a hard time getting you to stop and smell the peonies.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

(Ephesians 2:4-10 ESV)

But, God

What a beautiful interjection!
What an altogether unexpected and undeserved display of mercy!
What glorious gratitude is birthed when life displaces death!

This is our resurrection. We are made alive together with Christ. We are raised up from the grave to sit with Him, to search out the immeasurable riches of His grace, to seek all the beauty of His face reflected in the glory of creation. This is our resurrection.

Practice resurrection today, friends.
Practice resurrection and do not forget.
Practice resurrection because, in Christ, life has displaced death.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

sought

In tenderness He sought me
Weary and sick with sin
And on His shoulders brought me
Back to His fold again
While angels in His presence sang,
until the courts of heaven rang

Something about being sought in tenderness.
Something about being shown grace and favor while sick with sin.
Something about the vantage point of His shoulders and the heavenly accompaniment that swelled.

I imagine when Jesus chases after those prone to wander, his pace is not frenzied and his voice does not growl. I imagine His eyes set like flint (just as they were for the cross) and joy filling the creases in His face. I imagine He knows just where to look – all the best hiding places and dark corners. I imagine His touch tender as He cradles the fragile soul in the arms of His grace.

Oh the love that sought me!
Oh the blood that bought me!
Oh the grace that brought me to the fold of God
Grace that brought me to the fold of God

Oh the love.

It makes no sense and I’m the more grateful for it. He sought me out in my favorite, darkest corner and then swung me up on His shoulders and carried me out of darkness and into His marvelous light. And with tenderness He sought me.

What a glorious and merciful Savior!

This new song by Citizen is a beautiful reminder of how we came to know our Savior.

do you feel salvation in your fingertips?

Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,
and delight yourself in rich food.
Incline your ear, and come to me;
hear, that your soul may live
and I will make for you an everlasting covenant,
my steadfast, sure love for David.
Isaiah 55:2-3

Oh, the thousands of times I have not listened. And the thousands on top of those thousands that I have lacked diligence.

And, oh, the rotten food I have eaten as a result.

Listen.
Listen diligently.

These words dripped like the sweet sunshine that rushed to meet me in mid-afternoon – God’s reminder that delight always waits on the other side of diligent listening. His invitation hovers patient, woven through my schedule and rests the right kind of heavy on my heart.

“Child, if you just incline your ear and come to me… delight is on the other side and inside my words.”

Listen. And I will eat what is good, I will delight in rich food, my soul will live and I will enjoy an everlasting covenant.

On this side of the life/death/resurrection of Jesus Christ, these sweet words mean salvation. It means joyful abundance in the depraved, daily trenches of our days. It means being satisfied (Psalm 63) in a way the best home-cooked meal will always fail to do. It means tasting and seeing that He is good (Psalm 34:8). It means feeling life leap in our souls and it means experiencing a love with the certainty of an everlasting, covenant promise.

It means pushing myself back from the table of my rotten concoctions and trusting that delight will be on the other side of diligent listening.
It means stretching out my arms and feeling salvation in my fingertips.

 

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

to wait and to hope

It’s like finding the door to secret garden or discovering a hidden cave or tapping on the right rock in an Indiana Jones movie.

No matter how many times my pride tries to convince me otherwise, studying the Word never gets old. Sure, I have my seasons where the words look like black text on a white page and little more. But, go ahead and tell a child that there is no cave or secret garden or hidden passage while they are inside it and see what kind of response you get. Laughter seems most fitting. This is the joy of the Scripture – to be inside a mystery that never grows old.

As I was reading Psalm 130, I crawled inside this mystery and stared out in wonder. The urgency leaps from the misery and clings to the Lord’s forgiveness as the only hope against His righteous standard. My thoughts drifted toward Spanish again and the word, “esperar.” It means both “to wait” and “to hope” and, though I don’t know the original text, the interchange in verses 5-8 makes all kinds of sense.

1,2 Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD!
O Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
to the voice of my pleas for mercy!
3,4 If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities,
O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
that you may be feared.
5,6 I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.
7,8 O Israel, hope in the LORD!
For with the LORD there is steadfast love,
and with him is plentiful redemption.
And he will redeem Israel
from all his iniquities.
(Psalm 130 ESV)

Our waiting is hoping and our hoping is waiting. And it all rests on the Lord – the waiting and the hoping – not on our willpower to do it. The Psalmist makes certain we understand the intensity of his waiting. I’m sure watchmen assume the highest form of vigilance, filled with the gravest kind of hope. Twice the Psalmist says his soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning. How closely a watchman must hope for the dawn to break the darkness, for the sun to shed its light on the sky. Even more than a person whose purpose it is to wait and hope – he waits even more than him. What great expectation!

What a rush of beauty, to wait and hope in the One who offers steadfast love and plentiful redemption! Redeemed, restored, renewed… and we find these things in abundance!

Fo what else could we hope, my friends?
For what else should we wait?

go ahead, dive in to the mystery and

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

I almost forgot: the importance of clamará

I was standing between pews of neat rows and English words hung in the air above my head. I was supposed to sing along after the guitar solo opened the song, “Inside Out.” I was supposed to be thinking of God’s attributes. I wasn’t doing either of those things. I was thinking about the word, “clamará” and the first time I heard this melody.

Panic froze my praise. I grasped for the words – the right words – to fill in the space between me and the sky. I wanted just the right words to put my heart’s love to song and English wouldn’t do. The drums swelled and voices harmonized and I stood unable to sing.

I tried to read the words on the screen and translate, but the order is all wrong in English. The phrases are all out of place and the r’s are dull.

I closed my eyes and my heart opened up.

Dios eterno, tu luz por siempre brillará
y tu gloria incomparable sin final
el clamor de mi ser es contigo estar
desde mi interior, mi alma clamará

Every word climbed on top of the next, an expression in process – a verb in past, present, and future tense all rolled into one presentation of praise to my Lord. The word, “clamar” means “to cry out” and I love to picture my soul crying out in a way that rolls over into future tense. In Spanish, the chorus reads,

“God Eternal, your light for always shines/and will shine,
and your uncomparable glory has no end.
The cry of my being is to be with you
From my innermost, my soul cries/and will cry out”

I’m starting to think the notion of “heart language” or “native tongue” can mean many things and sound many different ways. This morning, singing praise to my Savior meant communion behind closed eyes with the Lord in a second language that seemed to better explain the verb tenses of my soul.

A little waterfall followed my communion, but I meant that to be praise as well. I knew the Lord would understand. He speaks all languages and knows the importance of clamará and remembers the events that make it mammoth in my understanding of who He is. He knows each young lady who pushed me to a more honest “clamará” in Tegucigalpa as I desperately wanted to know, love, and delight in Him so that they would, too. He understands the unspeakable desires in my heart that won’t ever find an outlet in letters. He knows my delight is and will always be found in knowing Him, finding out what pleases Him, and delighting to do those things.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

you are not enough

What a funny word.
“Enough” means sufficient, even if it means barely squeaking by.

I wonder what happens when enough is a challenge. Are you man enough? Are you strong enough? Are you brave enough? Are you mom enough?

These questions issue a challenge to those places in us that can’t resist – those places in us that say, “I’ll show you…” in response. We might even get a little carried away in proving that we are, indeed, enough of whatever quality is in question. We might even, on the wild proving grounds of this challenge, reveal just how great is our need. Because when we start to think that our adequacy is found in what we do, we’re beat from the start.

We were never meant to rise to the challenge of enough. We were meant to see our not enough and recognize our need.
We were made to find our enough in Another who is always sufficient, always abundant, and always.

This little excerpt (thanks, Tim Challies) from John Piper’s book Pierced by God gives helpful perspective. I realize it’s a bit much for this morning, so if you don’t read the excerpt below, just know that you are not enough.

You will never be brave enough, strong enough, smart enough, or mom enough. You can’t reach down deep and muster up the willpower. It’s not in you. And it’s not failure to admit that – it’s just recognizing that you are not God. You are made to depend on God’s enough-ness (if you will) and bring Him glory.

We are not God. So by comparison to ultimate, absolute Reality, we are not much. Our existence is secondary and dependent on the absolute Reality of God. He is the only Given in the universe. We are derivative. …We were. He simply is. But we become, “I Am Who I Am” in His name (Exodus 3:14).

Nevertheless, because He made us with the highest creaturely purpose in mind—to enjoy and display the Creator’s glory—we may have a very substantial life that lasts forever. This is why we were made (“All things were created through Him and for Him”, Colossians 1:16). …This is why we eat and drink (“So whatever you do, do all to the glory of God”, 1 Cor. 10:31). …This is why we do good deeds, (“Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven”, Matthew 5:16).

That is why we exist—to display the glory of God. Human life is all about God. That is the meaning of being human. It is our created nature to make much of God. When we fulfill this reason for being, we have substance. There is weight and significance in our existence. Knowing, enjoying, and thus displaying the glory of God is a sharing in the glory of God. Not that we become God. But something of His greatness and beauty is on us as we realize this purpose for our being—to image-forth His excellence. This is our substance.

Not to fulfill this purpose for human existence is to be a mere shadow of the substance we were created to have. Not to display God’s worth by enjoying Him above all things is to be a mere echo of the music we were created to make.

This is a great tragedy. Humans are not meant to be mere shadows and echoes. We were to have God-like substance and make God-like music and have God-like impact. That is what it means to be created in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). But when humans forsake their Maker and love other things more, they become like the things they love—small, insignificant, weightless, inconsequential, and God-diminishing.

Human life is all about God, isn’t it? So, why do we love being enough more than the One who is enough? Piper continues,

Listen to the way the Psalmist put it: “The idols of the nations are silver and gold, the work of human hands. They have mouths, but they do not speak; they have eyes but they do not see; they have ears but they do not hear, nor is there any breath in their mouths. Those who make them become like them, so do all who trust in them” (Ps. 135:15-18: see also 115:4-8).

Think and tremble. You become like the man-made things that you trust: mute, blind, deaf. This is a shadow existence. It is an echo of what you were meant to be. It is an empty mime on the stage of history with much movement and no meaning.

Dear reader, be not shadows and echoes. Break free from the epidemic of the manward spirit of our age. Set your face like flint to see and know and enjoy and live in light of the Lord. “O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord” (Isaiah 2:5). In His light you will see Him and all things as they truly are. You will wake up from the slumbers of shadowland existence. You will crave and find substance. You will make God-like music with your life. Death will dispatch you to paradise. And what you leave behind will not be a mere shadow or echo, but a tribute on earth, written in heaven, to the triumphant grace of God.

In God, we find all our desire for enough so that our lives can be a tribute on earth to the triumphant grace of God. You are not enough, but in Him we have more than enough to

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

therapy, cohabitation, syndrome success, and momentary marriage

Several things made me emotional today – in mostly good ways. I’d like to share a few of them with you in the form of these links in hopes that you’ll be encouraged, challenged, and spurred on. These are all inroads for conversation. That’s how I see it. The more we take in of our culture, the more ready we are to “give a reason to anyone who asks about the hope that we have.” Hope is not something that shows up once or twice a week. Hope makes appearances in conversations over a coffee or a beer or on the sidelines at a little league game. And these can be inroads, so let’s not waste our opportunities to engage.

  • I appreciated this article from Qideas, “Overcoming the Merely Therapeutic.” In a 2005 study (according to researchers Christian Smith and Melinda Lundquist Denton), teenagers say that worship is, “something like a combination Divine Butler and Cosmic Therapist: he’s always on call, takes care of any problems that arise, professionally helps his people to feel better about themselves, and does not become too personally involved in the process.” Revered Gregory Jensen responds to these findings and also reviews a recent book, Coming Apart: The State of White America, 1960–2010 (2012).
  • This article by Scotty Smith, “Pray the Scriptures” for how it seeks to battle the, essentially therapeutic idea, by knowing God through His Word and then forming a conversation from that knowledge.
  • If you’ve got high school graduation parties to attend, think about giving a gift off this book list. It will last longer than the food gift cards and picture frames, promise.
  • This is a brilliant article by writer George Will in the Washington Post on the life of Jon Will – 40 years and going with Down’s Syndrome. I felt like I just watched a beautiful, short film of a life lived well (and still living).
  • Switching gears a bit, this article from the New York Times is more than interesting. The Downside of Cohabiting Before Marriage is important on so many levels. Something about being published in the NYT gives a topic legitimacy and makes it a valid conversation over cards.
  • This article, “Who Wants to Buy Honduras,” hits pretty close to home for me. With a country whose past is layered with corruption and poverty, are charter cities really the way out?
  • In view of the recent Desiring God conference on men and ministry and masculinity, I appreciated this article from Michael Horton, “Muscular Christianity.” Do you have thoughts on how manly Christianity is or if it is even worth deciding?
  • Lastly, I want to encourage you to watch this film on Ian and Larissa. Their marriage story is absolutely broken and beautiful. May God receive the glory!

Okay, friends. That’s all for now. Click one or two if you have to choose, but just do something with the knowledge.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

the importance of being productive

It’s no secret: I’m poor at math. I don’t get very jazzed about number crunching. If I can be suckered into an equation, it’s nearly always a story problem (such as this one). So, when I take on the topic of productivity, allow me to sketch abstractly what could be made a very reliable algorithm (by someone else).

As I process (again) all the questions my high school counselor asked me as a senior – about career and vocation and calling – it seems like I might have moved little from my simplistic 18-year-old goals. In response to the question, “Where will you be in 10 years?” I wrote a paper as a junior. I imagined myself in the middle of Africa, married to a doctor named Mr. Bergenfeld, and answering to “Auntie” from the 405 children at the local orphanage. Yes, I’m sure I wrote 405 – I was ornery like that.

I spent my college years throwing my willingness at wonderful things and learning like my face pressed to fire hydrants. Even as I met with several mentors, it seemed that “my heart” was pointing me in the direction of missions and jungles and poverty and the simple life.   This kind of calling seemed exciting, noble even. Me and everyone else on my campus dreamed of making big things happen and being in the thick of it when they do. I wanted dirt on my elbows and a cardboard box to call home. I didn’t want to be stuck in an office talking about change and waiting on red tape and bureaucracies. I wanted in.
All in.

That’s what we all said in college. Maybe a few people sheepishly said how most really felt, “I don’t want anything to do with cardboard or 405 orphans. I’ll support whoever does, but give me the office and the red tape. It’ll all work out fine.”

Everyone has their own values that make up their vocational pursuits, but for me, I envisioned myself serving others – doing something in the trenches, rubbing shoulders with folks who have real messes that I could help mend. I envisioned my passionate pursuit of Christ leading me into a simple lifestyle and most likely missionary work overseas. I envisioned purpose coming from 405 orphan children who called me, “Auntie.” I envisioned living in a remote area and tackling daily needs like washing laundry in the river.

Well, here I am almost 10 years out of high school and I’m taking stock on some of those simplistic 18-year-old goals. And here’s a bit of what I found (this is where the mathematician can offer to co-write a book with me on this).

The question of calling and vocation is not as simple as what you’re most passionate about or even what you do best. The question of calling is understanding who God is and then figuring out how you can be most productive in giving Him glory.

We are called – each of us – to know God and to be most productive in giving Him glory.

And this is where I got really confused. I was figuring out my “calling equation” based on the lives of some of my heroes + what I thought was the ultimate act of service + my willingness to spill out joy wherever I went. I thought it could look a lot of ways, but it certainly looked like me being willing to do anything – even hard things outside my gifts and passions.

The problem was that, as I grew to know God better, I started to feel like I wasn’t the most productive. I was doing everything required and meeting the expectations at my jobs, but I always had this itch to read books and talk philosophy and wrestle with the lyrics of songs and dialogue about the cultural implications of our increasingly secular secondary institutions. I wasn’t really ever with dirt on my elbows in the trenches, though I got as close as I could wherever I went. I did always end up creating newsletters and forming committees and counseling colleagues and developing countless proposals for new programs.

There was a knot forming in my gut and I’ve only now just named it: I’m not using my gifts.

Can I survive anywhere? Yes.
Will God allow me the joy that overflows in any situation/vocation/career? Yes.
Do I bring the same amount of glory to God, regardless of vocation? No.

We cannot be “above” or “below” a vocation – we can only be more or less productive. I know of many God-fearing executives or administrators who are not most productive for God’s glory in their position. They were “promoted” to that status because of their work ethic as employee or teacher – because that’s where they were most productive. I also know of high-powered executives who think they can easily translate their business sense into the trenches kind of work, but they become less productive in the process.

At the end of the day, I can give you a physical number to prove my productivity. I can give you students registered, emails sent, orders completed, papers folded, printer crises averted, and invoices sent. I’m strictly talking tangibles (I hope I will always be productive with the conversations and the laughter and the little ways to shine light in dark places).

But, the question is not, “Am I productive with whatever is before me – with energy and joy and a servant heart?” The question is, “As I know God better, am I being most productive in giving Him glory?”

Maybe the reason we keep getting tripped up on this productivity thing is that we don’t hold our vocations to a higher standard. We think we’re off the hook if we’re not “called” into a position at a church.

But, we are all called. Luther said,

“Monastic vows rest on the false assumption that there is a special calling, a vocation, to which superior Christians are invited to observe the counsels of perfection while ordinary Christians fulfil only the commands; but there simply is no special religious vocation since the call of God comes to each at the common tasks.”

We are all called to know God, find out what pleases Him, and delight to please Him together with the Body of Christ. This is not ministry, it’s life. As we walk out our calling, we’ll find that what pleases Him is excellence. Some of us will be excellent at Excel documents and some of us will be excellent at growing bananas and some of us will be excellent at conversation.

I think (mathematician, will you check my work on this?), that if the Body of Christ resolves to know God, find out what please Him and delights to please Him together, we will end up divinely appointed in every vocation, with a productivity that would shock the most lucrative corporation.

This is the importance of being productive.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

I was never brilliant

It’s true. I was always that girl who grew up on a farm and knew how to work hard, but I was never brilliant.

In high school, I campaigned enough to be President of all the right groups and practiced enough to make first chair trumpet. I played enough to letter in sports and performed enough to be cast as lead roles in musicals. I studied enough to make the Honor Roll and tested high enough to opt out of finals.

I was smart enough, but I was never brilliant.

In college, I earned enough good grades to be invited into the Pew Society and find my name on the Dean’s List. I was active enough in the community to annoy my friends with my schedule and passionate enough about missions to let it consume much of my time.

I was smart enough, but I was never brilliant.

I don’t mention these things to puff myself up, actually I’m about to do the opposite. As I consider the reasons why I haven’t pursued further study, I discovered a very twisted kind of pride. See, because I was not a child prodigy, I tried not to measure myself against brilliance. I read and thought and wrote and digested as much knowledge as I could get my hands on, but I didn’t want anyone to test me on it. I wanted to be an expert in areas I could handpick (and self-declare my expert status).

Ugh. This is ugly.

It didn’t matter that the topics I raised for discussion weren’t as interesting or as important to the people at the table (or that I rarely raised questions about their area of expertise), what mattered was finding that sweet spot where my “smart enough” looked pretty good.

I remember thinking, “Now, that’s brilliance,” as I listened to visting speakers and read various authors. I’ve always said that a dream of mine is to sit with C.S. Lewis, Corrie Ten Boom, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and G.K. Chesterton in a musty, old library. That’s a room full of brilliance, right there. But, I wonder if I would have chosen to hang out with those folks, had they been on my campus. I wonder how I would respond to their rebuke or their questions.

I was never brilliant, but I was comfortable thinking I could be the best of mediocre.

I wonder what Dietrich Bonhoeffer would say to that.

the fear that brings wisdom

Okay, it’s about to get awkward and honest. Well, more honest than awkward (I do enough of that in real life) but you might feel awkward reading my latest loop-de-loop that’s got me feeling exposed.

Did I ever tell you I’m stubborn? Well, I am. And I can blame it on Nichols nature or I can blame it on the human condition or I can take full credit for that thing in me that resists when people offer to help carry an obviously too-heavy load. Yep, I’m stubborn. And I’m pretty accustomed to the good and bad situations I get into because of it.

Recently, though, I’ve been surprised.
I never thought my stubbornness would keep me fearful or help me avoid risk or support “playing it safe.” All those things seem like what I use stubbornness to fight against nearly every day. I always thought stubbornness was something I could use to my advantage – to push through when things were hard or didn’t make sense. My knowledge of the Lord led me straight into a very stubborn belief that, in any situation, I can “grin and bear it.” I thought stubbornness was almost holy, I guess.

And here’s where it gets honest. 

I’m afraid of the GRE.
I’m nervous that I can’t kick it in grad school.
I’m worried I might choose a specialized field that doesn’t translate practically to serving real people.
I hate the thought of looking foolish in a classroom.
I fear the pride of another degree.

And I guess a combination of the above is what led me to steer clear of institutionalized higher learning after I graduated in 2007. I actually researched graduate programs that didn’t require the GRE and have since looked for “continuing education” programs that don’t emphasize a degree. That’s how stubborn I was about my fears.

And I was missing out.

When Christ promised to bring life in abundance, he did not call everyone to the same position or profession. He is big enough to be abundant in the life of a lawyer and big enough to be abundant in the life of a shepherd. I got so stubborn holding onto Him being “big enough to be abundant” while I fill my schedule with part-time work that I refused to think there were other ways I could use/grow my gifts. This was my excuse on the surface for all those other stubborn reasons I wasn’t sharing.

“I know God will use me wherever I am, as long as I’m willing to be used.”

That little bit of self-talk has been on replay since I came back to the States on a mad hunt for a job to pay off my school debt. It kicked up into high chipmunk-style gear when I started working for my uncle on the farm and then when I accepted two part-time jobs in Ames. I just kept saying, I’ve just got to be willing. I still believe it’s true, but I also believe it allowed me to hide. It was Jim Elliott who said, “Wherever you are, be all there.” And to that I say, amen! But, I would add that we must always have a heart ready to do something else – something that might throw our fears out into the light and challenge our stubborn resolve.

The flip side of my willingness has hit me like a bucket of cold water in the past couple days. Am I willing to release my stubbornness and face my fears about doing something else? Am I willing to say that all the closed doors for full-time employment mean an open door for more learning? Am I willing to say “God is big enough to be abundant” if I go back to school?

Some fear is not good. And this is that kind of fear for me.

I think I’ll pray for the kind of fear that ends up being worth wisdom. And then I’ll pray for the courage to do what that wisdom reveals.

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,” Proverbs 9:10

let LOVE fly like cRaZy