I don't really like listening to classical music but I could sit for hours on end watching someone sit at a piano with their fingers gliding over the keys and the invisible memorization of Mozart carrying their arms.
I went recently to Wheaton University to check it out because, it's getting to be that time. Decision time. Anyways, I went to one of Jess Williams' classes and we watched her play a few classical pieces.At the beginning you can tell that she was focused on what she was doing. Where her fingers were going. Then, eventually, she completely lost herself. If you looked at her fingers and then up at her, you could tell that something else was going on. It was the same with anyone who got up and played. It's as if the music started coming from somewhere else. Like the piano wasn't actually producing any sounds. Or, they weren't even controlling their fingers anymore but it was something deeper.
I wish my faith was like that. I hope my faith is like that.
I hope when people see me serving they don't see that I'M serving them. I hope that they know I don't even know where my hands are going anymore. They see that it comes from somewhere else entirely. They see that I don't control my actions but it's something deep within my spirit that is moving me.
I hope they see that I'm completely lost in the music of His Glory.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Losing Control
Monday, April 14, 2008
Like an Art-Form
The Bible is really inspiring.
I've always looked it as sort of the intellectually charged aspect of my faith but, lately,
I've discovered its many inspirational qualities.
I was planning a children's program last week & then, I'm doing activities for our church's upcoming Woman's Retreat & I've looked in magazines & google, etc etc but the most inspiration I've found came from the Word.
I think that's pretty cool. That's all.
Peace.
I've always looked it as sort of the intellectually charged aspect of my faith but, lately,
I've discovered its many inspirational qualities.
I was planning a children's program last week & then, I'm doing activities for our church's upcoming Woman's Retreat & I've looked in magazines & google, etc etc but the most inspiration I've found came from the Word.
I think that's pretty cool. That's all.
Peace.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Just Can't Seem to Get it Right Today
Tonight is very confusing for me.
My mom hasn't gone grocery shopping since I moved in. There's no laundry detergent in the laundry room. She went straight from work to her boyfriend's house.
How the hell can someone claim to care about you so much and treat you like you're a vapor in their whirlwind????
I love her so much. I really do.
Her faults shove me into the arms of My Father.
Sometimes, though, I want a mom who doesn't have to shove me. Sometimes, I want a mom who lifts me, a mom who carries me to the Father.
I've had a lot of people offer me their homes lately. Obviously, she would never allow that.
& I just don't know that I could allow myself to skip out on my life. You know what I mean?
Doesn't it seem like a cop-out?
I just want to wait around & see if she'll come around. And I want to wait around and see how weak I can be, so God can be strong for me.
On a lighter note:
I love people. I totally get why God created us this way: needy.
I just can't imagine what's it's like for Him to see someone look elsewhere for satisfaction just to come to the realization that it's only found in Him. Must be a beautiful moment for Him. & if the angels are rejoicing... well, God must be beaming.
I don't know the answers. But, just the assurance that I know who does. It makes me look at human beings in a whole new light. It makes me love their shortcomings because I know that God created them with those so that He could be proven in His all-fulfilling nature.
It's a beautiful thing that we all NEED God.
Yesterday, I felt like someone was praying for me. Do you ever get that feeling?
The feeling that people are just interceding.
It's a beautiful thing: intercession.
Writing helps me so much. Two minutes ago I was rippin' mad.
Now, I'm just chipper. It amazes me.
My mom hasn't gone grocery shopping since I moved in. There's no laundry detergent in the laundry room. She went straight from work to her boyfriend's house.
How the hell can someone claim to care about you so much and treat you like you're a vapor in their whirlwind????
I love her so much. I really do.
Her faults shove me into the arms of My Father.
Sometimes, though, I want a mom who doesn't have to shove me. Sometimes, I want a mom who lifts me, a mom who carries me to the Father.
I've had a lot of people offer me their homes lately. Obviously, she would never allow that.
& I just don't know that I could allow myself to skip out on my life. You know what I mean?
Doesn't it seem like a cop-out?
I just want to wait around & see if she'll come around. And I want to wait around and see how weak I can be, so God can be strong for me.
On a lighter note:
I love people. I totally get why God created us this way: needy.
I just can't imagine what's it's like for Him to see someone look elsewhere for satisfaction just to come to the realization that it's only found in Him. Must be a beautiful moment for Him. & if the angels are rejoicing... well, God must be beaming.
I don't know the answers. But, just the assurance that I know who does. It makes me look at human beings in a whole new light. It makes me love their shortcomings because I know that God created them with those so that He could be proven in His all-fulfilling nature.
It's a beautiful thing that we all NEED God.
Yesterday, I felt like someone was praying for me. Do you ever get that feeling?
The feeling that people are just interceding.
It's a beautiful thing: intercession.
Writing helps me so much. Two minutes ago I was rippin' mad.
Now, I'm just chipper. It amazes me.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Nowhere to Be Found
Avoiding the PAST
Running away from the PRESENT
Scared of the FUTURE
I'm going in circles.
Circles are getting me nowhere.
The worst part is:
I think nowhere is exactly where I want to be.
Nowhere is safe.
Nobody else is nowhere.
Nothing takes faith, when I'm nowhere.
But when people start going somewhere, when people start going There,
no one can find me if I'm nowhere to be found.
No one can find me if I'm nowhere.
Running away from the PRESENT
Scared of the FUTURE
I'm going in circles.
Circles are getting me nowhere.
The worst part is:
I think nowhere is exactly where I want to be.
Nowhere is safe.
Nobody else is nowhere.
Nothing takes faith, when I'm nowhere.
But when people start going somewhere, when people start going There,
no one can find me if I'm nowhere to be found.
No one can find me if I'm nowhere.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Forgive them, Father
Last night I went to a church service at my dad's church & while one of the speaker's was... well... speaking, he told a really moving story.
One of his friends worked at the slaughter house and he was in the "cutting position". So, these lambs would come by him on a conveyor belt and he would quite literally cut their head off. I know, it seems pretty gruesome but stick with me. One time, this guy was at work and a lamb came by, he slit its throat and then the conveyor belt malfunctioned. So, he was talking to one of his buddies when, all of the sudden, he feels a warm sensation in his palm. He looks down to see the very lamb he just decapitated licking the blood off his fingers.
A lot of you are going "eeeeww" and squirming in your seat. I was a little, too, when I first heard it. But, this guy made a good point. Show me a more accurate representation of Christ's love for us.
It is because of our sin that He was sacrificed. And, had none of you done anything wrong, He would have done it for just me. He would've done it for only you.
Then, after He was beaten and hung on a cross, He rose again. To lick our wounds. To remove His blood from the very hands that hung Him on the cross.
To present us blameless before the Father.
He cried out to Him
"Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do! They know not what they do."
I have no doubt that as Christ intercedes for us at the right hand of the throne of God, He has to intercede daily for me, saying, "Forgive Rachel, Father, she knows not what she does."
And I walk around, we all do, taking flippantly the sacrifice that was made for us. For our sins. To cleanse us.
There is the Lamb, who we didn't kill, but who offered Himself for us. And turning His broken body, He looks at the children of God and says, "It was worth it." He looks at liars, greedy, selfish, ugly people and says, "How beautiful are my sons & daughters."
And He licks His blood off of our garments, comforting us in this world of sin, presenting us holy & blameless before the Father.
We know not what we do.
One of his friends worked at the slaughter house and he was in the "cutting position". So, these lambs would come by him on a conveyor belt and he would quite literally cut their head off. I know, it seems pretty gruesome but stick with me. One time, this guy was at work and a lamb came by, he slit its throat and then the conveyor belt malfunctioned. So, he was talking to one of his buddies when, all of the sudden, he feels a warm sensation in his palm. He looks down to see the very lamb he just decapitated licking the blood off his fingers.
A lot of you are going "eeeeww" and squirming in your seat. I was a little, too, when I first heard it. But, this guy made a good point. Show me a more accurate representation of Christ's love for us.
It is because of our sin that He was sacrificed. And, had none of you done anything wrong, He would have done it for just me. He would've done it for only you.
Then, after He was beaten and hung on a cross, He rose again. To lick our wounds. To remove His blood from the very hands that hung Him on the cross.
To present us blameless before the Father.
He cried out to Him
"Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do! They know not what they do."
I have no doubt that as Christ intercedes for us at the right hand of the throne of God, He has to intercede daily for me, saying, "Forgive Rachel, Father, she knows not what she does."
And I walk around, we all do, taking flippantly the sacrifice that was made for us. For our sins. To cleanse us.
There is the Lamb, who we didn't kill, but who offered Himself for us. And turning His broken body, He looks at the children of God and says, "It was worth it." He looks at liars, greedy, selfish, ugly people and says, "How beautiful are my sons & daughters."
And He licks His blood off of our garments, comforting us in this world of sin, presenting us holy & blameless before the Father.
We know not what we do.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Yiayia & Papou: Ministry, Kosovo Crisis in '99
Don't start reading this blog unless you have a lot of time on your hands. I have a lot to reflect on & I don't need your help.
Ever since I moved in with my grandparents I've learned more & more about their mission in Albania.
I don't know how I could ever tell about everything they do and every area of ministry they're plugged into. And, every time I think I have a grasp on it, another story or question pops up & I find out something new.
It started years ago as: my grandparents own a restaurant & a few churches in Tirana, Albania.
Then: My grandparents own a bookstore.
Lately: My grandparents own a bookstore, a restaurant, churches, orphanages, moving company, electrical company, warehouse, etc etc etc.
Now, when I say they "own" it I mean they "run" it for the Lord who "owns" it. Never in my life have I admired two people more than I admire my grandparents. As I sit & write, tears flow down my cheeks in awe of how God has turned a gypsies son & a poor schoolgirl into History Makers.
When my grandparents were first deciding to go onto the mission field my dad was the one who was going to pray the prayer on the morning the church commissioned them.
He recently told me that during the service the Lord gave him a vision, God spoke to him and told him that my grandparent's names would be written in history books in years to come. Dad never said this in front of the congregation because that's a lofty claim to make. It was a simple lack of faith on his part, but I don't think it makes the statement any less true. They are history makers.
And I can't explain how aside from absolute faith in God, and willingness to go where He leads.
I know that missions is my passion & it's what I will pursue. Oversees missions, I mean. But, I don't know that I'll be successful. However you determine success on the mission field, I haven't a clue. But, I know that there's a voice in my head & a voice in my deceptive heart that is whispering 'You're a failure.' Plain and simple. And, naturally, that's the voice I choose to believe nine times out of 10.
Then, I look at my grandparents. Didn't know they were going to Albania until they randomly saw it on a map one day. Just sitting there next to Greece. All small and deprived. Only just coming out of communism.
So, here's this couple on a plane to Albania. No time to take language courses. They'll learn it when they get there. And they did.
Then, they get there with a task. Which turns into another task. And yet another. Until their ministry is rapidly unfolding before their eyes. Their oh so humble eyes.
They don't question it, they don't advertise it,
Because they have faith in all of God's mysteries. And humility before His very hand.
Tonight, my Aunt Louise got curious about what exactly they do in Albania, much like the rest of us.
I honestly think their ministry is very literally beyond words. So, we try not to ask much.
My grandma (who from now on will be referred to by her proper name: Yiayia) had my grandpa (from now on: Papou) whip out some of the tapes of their ministry. Old, beat up VHS tapes. Shaky footage, grainy picture tapes.
It started with some simple footage of the restaurant, a few orphanages, an old folks home (yet another discovery tonight). Then, we stumbled across a video of Yiayia & Papou serving in the Kosovo crisis. I can't explain this image to you, but I will try.
They hauled one of the largest most monstrous trucks I've ever seen through the mountains of Kosovo along the unpaved cliffs with a 2 foot drop on the one side. Papou hops up onto the back of the truck, swings open the door and you see bread. Heaps, mounds, of unboxed bread. Loaves that were clearly just thrown into the truck on a fly. Loaves upon loaves upon loaves. Straight from Yiayia & Papou's bakery (once again, with the revelations) into that ginormous truck.
Quickly, Papou starts ordering people around to get him boxes. He loads up box after box when 2 other men (I'm assuming they traveled with him) hop into the back as if the 50+ yrs they've been alive has done nothing to their body. I know, of course, soul was taking reign over body for the time being. For this crisis.
Let me explain to you why they needed bread.
A couple of years ago a great tragedy happened in Kosovo (a Serbian region very close to the Albanian border). Kosovo is made up of mostly Albanians. However, it is a territory of Serbia. Therefore, the Serbs are almost always trying to ostracize the Albanians in Kosovo to drive them out & purify the nation. A few years ago, the Serbian army went from house to house in Kosovo collecting all the weapons belonging to each family (gives you a whole new perspective on the right to bear arms, eh?). The army attacked about a week later. Driving the Albanians out of their country. Similar to what is currently happening in Burma, and roughly what is happening again in Kosovo.
So, the Albanian/Serbian border was soon full of refugee camps. I wish I could show you the footage. Rows and rows of white tents, with dark-skinned children and sad faces hanging out, cooking what little food they had. Isolated. Alone. And volunteers EVERYWHERE like busy buys. Distributing, videotaping, interviewing, donating.
The United Nations will not give refugees more than they absolutely need because they want to encourage them to find a home ASAP. My grandparents, however, took them in, thousands of them.
As the trucks arrived at the site full of bread, Papou boxed it up & started passing boxes of bread out to volunteers them out. Soon, you see staff & volunteers at barbed wire fences handing loaves of bread to refugees. Beautiful sight, really.
Later:
Thousands of people were housed by my grandparents in a strong, clean building with partitions for each family. They offered a better refugee camp than the United Nations ever could. Complete with bathrooms and areas for them to cook that didn't mean red clay and ants in your teeth. Not to mention, they offered them love. The purest love. The love of Christ. Which I would be a fool to overlook.
Yiayia talks about this time as a time that you know when you're getting no sleep, not enough food, no rest, God is doing something supernatural. God is making this happen. Because you could never be strong enough.
She said the people they cared for were like a big, gigantic family God put in their pathway.
Being with my grandparents in America makes them seem so ordinary. They make me do the dishes and clean my room. They like to have high-tech gadgets and they grumble when they miss a doctor's appointment.
They aren't easy people. They aren't perfect people.
Just goes to show, God doesn't need those people. Those people can go try to make it on their own, and fail.
Meanwhile, He'll take the broken, the incapable, the HUMBLE, and He'll make something great out of them. He'll give them tasks too long for their granddaughters to write in a blog. He'll touch lives through them. He'll inspire people because of them.
This isn't about my grandparents. This is about God. This is about how afraid I am to do missions work. How afraid I am to even go to Albania for a month. & about how afraid I am NOT to do missions work. This is about God overcoming all of my fears. This is about the fact that God can do ANYTHING.
If anyone made it through this blog, which I doubt, I need to tell you something:
God can do ANYTHING. I know that you claim to know this. And maybe you do know it. But you will never understand it. Because, ANYTHING doesn't fit into our box. ANYTHING is too big.
BUT: NOTHING is too big for God. Not even ANYTHING.
Ever since I moved in with my grandparents I've learned more & more about their mission in Albania.
I don't know how I could ever tell about everything they do and every area of ministry they're plugged into. And, every time I think I have a grasp on it, another story or question pops up & I find out something new.
It started years ago as: my grandparents own a restaurant & a few churches in Tirana, Albania.
Then: My grandparents own a bookstore.
Lately: My grandparents own a bookstore, a restaurant, churches, orphanages, moving company, electrical company, warehouse, etc etc etc.
Now, when I say they "own" it I mean they "run" it for the Lord who "owns" it. Never in my life have I admired two people more than I admire my grandparents. As I sit & write, tears flow down my cheeks in awe of how God has turned a gypsies son & a poor schoolgirl into History Makers.
When my grandparents were first deciding to go onto the mission field my dad was the one who was going to pray the prayer on the morning the church commissioned them.
He recently told me that during the service the Lord gave him a vision, God spoke to him and told him that my grandparent's names would be written in history books in years to come. Dad never said this in front of the congregation because that's a lofty claim to make. It was a simple lack of faith on his part, but I don't think it makes the statement any less true. They are history makers.
And I can't explain how aside from absolute faith in God, and willingness to go where He leads.
I know that missions is my passion & it's what I will pursue. Oversees missions, I mean. But, I don't know that I'll be successful. However you determine success on the mission field, I haven't a clue. But, I know that there's a voice in my head & a voice in my deceptive heart that is whispering 'You're a failure.' Plain and simple. And, naturally, that's the voice I choose to believe nine times out of 10.
Then, I look at my grandparents. Didn't know they were going to Albania until they randomly saw it on a map one day. Just sitting there next to Greece. All small and deprived. Only just coming out of communism.
So, here's this couple on a plane to Albania. No time to take language courses. They'll learn it when they get there. And they did.
Then, they get there with a task. Which turns into another task. And yet another. Until their ministry is rapidly unfolding before their eyes. Their oh so humble eyes.
They don't question it, they don't advertise it,
Because they have faith in all of God's mysteries. And humility before His very hand.
Tonight, my Aunt Louise got curious about what exactly they do in Albania, much like the rest of us.
I honestly think their ministry is very literally beyond words. So, we try not to ask much.
My grandma (who from now on will be referred to by her proper name: Yiayia) had my grandpa (from now on: Papou) whip out some of the tapes of their ministry. Old, beat up VHS tapes. Shaky footage, grainy picture tapes.
It started with some simple footage of the restaurant, a few orphanages, an old folks home (yet another discovery tonight). Then, we stumbled across a video of Yiayia & Papou serving in the Kosovo crisis. I can't explain this image to you, but I will try.
They hauled one of the largest most monstrous trucks I've ever seen through the mountains of Kosovo along the unpaved cliffs with a 2 foot drop on the one side. Papou hops up onto the back of the truck, swings open the door and you see bread. Heaps, mounds, of unboxed bread. Loaves that were clearly just thrown into the truck on a fly. Loaves upon loaves upon loaves. Straight from Yiayia & Papou's bakery (once again, with the revelations) into that ginormous truck.
Quickly, Papou starts ordering people around to get him boxes. He loads up box after box when 2 other men (I'm assuming they traveled with him) hop into the back as if the 50+ yrs they've been alive has done nothing to their body. I know, of course, soul was taking reign over body for the time being. For this crisis.
Let me explain to you why they needed bread.
A couple of years ago a great tragedy happened in Kosovo (a Serbian region very close to the Albanian border). Kosovo is made up of mostly Albanians. However, it is a territory of Serbia. Therefore, the Serbs are almost always trying to ostracize the Albanians in Kosovo to drive them out & purify the nation. A few years ago, the Serbian army went from house to house in Kosovo collecting all the weapons belonging to each family (gives you a whole new perspective on the right to bear arms, eh?). The army attacked about a week later. Driving the Albanians out of their country. Similar to what is currently happening in Burma, and roughly what is happening again in Kosovo.
So, the Albanian/Serbian border was soon full of refugee camps. I wish I could show you the footage. Rows and rows of white tents, with dark-skinned children and sad faces hanging out, cooking what little food they had. Isolated. Alone. And volunteers EVERYWHERE like busy buys. Distributing, videotaping, interviewing, donating.
The United Nations will not give refugees more than they absolutely need because they want to encourage them to find a home ASAP. My grandparents, however, took them in, thousands of them.
As the trucks arrived at the site full of bread, Papou boxed it up & started passing boxes of bread out to volunteers them out. Soon, you see staff & volunteers at barbed wire fences handing loaves of bread to refugees. Beautiful sight, really.
Later:
Thousands of people were housed by my grandparents in a strong, clean building with partitions for each family. They offered a better refugee camp than the United Nations ever could. Complete with bathrooms and areas for them to cook that didn't mean red clay and ants in your teeth. Not to mention, they offered them love. The purest love. The love of Christ. Which I would be a fool to overlook.
Yiayia talks about this time as a time that you know when you're getting no sleep, not enough food, no rest, God is doing something supernatural. God is making this happen. Because you could never be strong enough.
She said the people they cared for were like a big, gigantic family God put in their pathway.
Being with my grandparents in America makes them seem so ordinary. They make me do the dishes and clean my room. They like to have high-tech gadgets and they grumble when they miss a doctor's appointment.
They aren't easy people. They aren't perfect people.
Just goes to show, God doesn't need those people. Those people can go try to make it on their own, and fail.
Meanwhile, He'll take the broken, the incapable, the HUMBLE, and He'll make something great out of them. He'll give them tasks too long for their granddaughters to write in a blog. He'll touch lives through them. He'll inspire people because of them.
This isn't about my grandparents. This is about God. This is about how afraid I am to do missions work. How afraid I am to even go to Albania for a month. & about how afraid I am NOT to do missions work. This is about God overcoming all of my fears. This is about the fact that God can do ANYTHING.
If anyone made it through this blog, which I doubt, I need to tell you something:
God can do ANYTHING. I know that you claim to know this. And maybe you do know it. But you will never understand it. Because, ANYTHING doesn't fit into our box. ANYTHING is too big.
BUT: NOTHING is too big for God. Not even ANYTHING.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
People seem not to know that their opinion of the world is also a confession of their character. -Ralph Waldo Emerson
I have problems.
I mean we all have problems. But, I'll be the first to shout it from the rooftops.
It's great to live in a world full of fallen people, you know? I mean, it would be better if we could all be in perfect harmony with our Maker and with one another.
But, if we're going to have problems I want it to be all of us. Together.
Many people don't know this about me but I don't remember the last time I got mad at someone for disliking me.
I think a lot of people look at me & think that I think that I have it all together. They hate that about me. Especially people @ school and a few at church. Mostly just the people who know nothing about me and that I have NOTHING together.
Today, I had an encounter with someone who disliked me.
I never had the chance but I was just going to ask him why. I like knowing how people view me. It's kind of odd and some might view it as masochistic but I feel better about myself when I know my faults.
People who get mad at or get sad about people not liking them are a mystery to me.
When I realized the guy today didn't like me, it kind of put a smile on my face. It reminds me we're unique. It reminds me we're fallen. It reminds me that we're all in this together.
Most of all, it reminds me that I agree with him.
I will never deny that I have faults. EVER. You will never hear me do that. Not because I try to be honest, and it makes me even more perfect. But, because if anybody knows my faults, it's God. And then, if anybody else knows all my faults, it's me.
Why would I ever get mad at someone I agree with?
I've always wanted to get together with an intimate group of people and ask them what they like the least about me, in an uplifting way. I would expect them to be honest & realize that my faults don't make up who I am. I would expect them to be sensitive. So, in the least pessimistic way possible, I would want to know what they dislike about me. Mostly because people are always willing to tell you what they like about you. What they DISlike is almost never discussed. I understand, too. It just isn't socially acceptable. And, you'll never find me with enough gumption to bring it up to someone else.
&, the thing is, there are people I don't like. But, I would NEVER get rid of them. They make me stronger. And, I love them. It's easier to love than to like. A beautiful thing, love is.
much love
God loves you.
I love God.
I love you.
God loves me.
Love Love Love
Amor.
I mean we all have problems. But, I'll be the first to shout it from the rooftops.
It's great to live in a world full of fallen people, you know? I mean, it would be better if we could all be in perfect harmony with our Maker and with one another.
But, if we're going to have problems I want it to be all of us. Together.
Many people don't know this about me but I don't remember the last time I got mad at someone for disliking me.
I think a lot of people look at me & think that I think that I have it all together. They hate that about me. Especially people @ school and a few at church. Mostly just the people who know nothing about me and that I have NOTHING together.
Today, I had an encounter with someone who disliked me.
I never had the chance but I was just going to ask him why. I like knowing how people view me. It's kind of odd and some might view it as masochistic but I feel better about myself when I know my faults.
People who get mad at or get sad about people not liking them are a mystery to me.
When I realized the guy today didn't like me, it kind of put a smile on my face. It reminds me we're unique. It reminds me we're fallen. It reminds me that we're all in this together.
Most of all, it reminds me that I agree with him.
I will never deny that I have faults. EVER. You will never hear me do that. Not because I try to be honest, and it makes me even more perfect. But, because if anybody knows my faults, it's God. And then, if anybody else knows all my faults, it's me.
Why would I ever get mad at someone I agree with?
I've always wanted to get together with an intimate group of people and ask them what they like the least about me, in an uplifting way. I would expect them to be honest & realize that my faults don't make up who I am. I would expect them to be sensitive. So, in the least pessimistic way possible, I would want to know what they dislike about me. Mostly because people are always willing to tell you what they like about you. What they DISlike is almost never discussed. I understand, too. It just isn't socially acceptable. And, you'll never find me with enough gumption to bring it up to someone else.
&, the thing is, there are people I don't like. But, I would NEVER get rid of them. They make me stronger. And, I love them. It's easier to love than to like. A beautiful thing, love is.
much love
God loves you.
I love God.
I love you.
God loves me.
Love Love Love
Amor.
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