my journey.

Let's celebrate.

2008-01-18T17:47:00.000-08:00

Check out this clip from the new season of American Idol:
{Pay special attention to Simon's response to the family celebrating success}

What did you think?
Post your thoughts as comments below, and I’ll share my take on it in the next post.

Happy Birthday!

2008-01-13T15:42:00.000-08:00

They are here!
Beau Maddox was born Jan. 7th at 10:01am weighing 6lbs 13ozs 20in long, & Rhys Kamden (pronounced Reese for all you traditionalists :) at 10:03am weighing 6lbs 8 ozs and 19in long.
They did great! After birth they had a short stay in the NIM “neonatal intermediate care unit” to make sure they were maintaining the correct blood sugar levels, but were still able to go home with us on Thursday the 10th.
Here are a few pictures of them!
(I video taped the C-section, and I thought about posting that, but it’s not really for the faint of heart… :)

O Holy Night...

2007-12-12T13:20:00.000-08:00

It smelled like shit. The walls were practically painted with the stuff. Those that had obviously deposited the décor lazily looked over as we frantically searched for a clean place to sit down. None could be found.

In the midst of the shit and animals and straw and more shit, we cleared away a bare spot thinking, for some reason, the dirt had to be cleaner than the animal laden carpet. “Am I a bad husband? Should we have traveled so far away from home? What am I supposed to do now?” all anxious questions that raced through my mind. Her screams pierced through the fog of my thoughts. With one hand she reached up and griped my forearm while the other dug into the earth beside her swollen belly. Sweat beaded up on her forehead slowly grouping together and dripping down her anguish stricken face. With her eyes closed she gently moaned and sobbed and every few minutes her back would arch and her sobs would escalate into screams of pain. “How could this happen? How did we get here? Are the people in this town really such tight asses that they won’t even let a man and his pregnant wife into their home?” again my thoughts interrupted by her cries of agony. As she held her breath and the bulging veins in her neck rhythmically pronounced the racing beats of her heart, this time, I could begin to see his head crown forth from her womb. Blood continued to spill out and coat the dirt with a slippery crimson hue and I could think to do nothing but reach my hands out while mumbling soothing words in a desperate attempt her ears would find some resemblance of comfort in the midst of what seemed like torture. “How long would this last? How much could she take? Why would no one help us?” I thought, somewhat glad her eyes were closed so that she wouldn’t see the fear that seemed to engulf me. For what seemed like hours I could just see the top of his head as the cadence of cries and moments of rest repeated through the night and then in a matter of seconds his head slowly emerged followed by his tiny arms and torso, legs and feet. I pulled his fragile body into my arms and the cries from his mouth met his mother’s as they drifted into the night air and I wondered if this was how it was supposed to happen.
It was there in the shit, and blood, and sweat, and pain, and fear, that God entered into our world and became flesh, like one of us. It was there that the savior, the messiah, the promised one was born. I wonder what Joseph and Mary would think of 450 billion dollars spent in malls each holiday season and the amount of debt raked up in one shopping spree, and the suicidal thoughts of those who have no families or the pressure put on single moms to buy their kids gifts they can’t afford. I wonder where the idea that happiness is something you can purchase got mixed into the ways we celebrate the birth of God into our midst. I wonder if there are different ways to celebrate. Different ways that don’t involve pressure and debt, yet include the poor and those that often get pushed to the margin of our society and most pretend don’t even exist. Different ways that breathe hope into the lives of people around us like God breathed hope into our world that one Holy Night.
Here’s a very cool video from Adventconspiracy.org
Whether or not you agree with anything said above, please take a few minutes and watch this video:

[AC] Advent Conspiracy from Jon Collins on Vimeo.

i am the church

2007-12-03T13:57:00.000-08:00

check out this sweet blog:
http://www.thelongbrake.com/blog/i-am-the-church/

"Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him; for God's temple is sacred, and you are that temple."
1 Corinthians 3:16-17

"As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him— you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ."
1 Peter 2: 4-5

What if things are supposed to be different?

2007-11-30T12:52:00.000-08:00

What if church is a little messed up?
What if church as we know it has a few flaws?
What if, in a real practical sense, you focus more on me than Jesus? Isn't that a little messed up?
What if Jesus would have some of the same harsh words to speak to us as He did to the pharisees?
Are you willing to ask those kinds of questions?
Are you willing to make the changes when you find the answers?
I think I'm ready.

Below is a funny video I found.
As you watch, wonder about the homeless guy three blocks from this building, or the single mom in the neighborhood across the street who struggles to feed her kids, or all the other needs within blocks of buildings just like this, and then ask yourself, "what if this church thing is supposed to look different?"

More Cow Bell

2007-11-21T11:54:00.000-08:00

Amy and I rented The Best of Will Ferrell on SNL this week. It was hilarious. Click "read more" to check out our two favs.

"More Cow Bell"

"Get off the shed"

The Golden Compass

2007-11-16T07:57:00.000-08:00

Have you seen the forwarded emails? Have you heard the debates?
...killing god...the anti C.S. Lewis...protect your kids...boycott the theaters...
Click "read more" to watch the trailer, and read some of my thoughts.

I laugh at the forwarded emails only because of how heated they are. In general, it seems that "Christian" parents get so offended, and so worked up about their kids watching an hour and a half movie that may or may not have any impact on their lives, yet care very little about their kids watching them "kill God" everyday by the way they live their own lives. I'll be a parent in a few months, so I'm really new at it, but I know that my words, and actions will ultimately have the single most significant impact on the lives of my kids. I guess I’m not too surprised that parents who let TV raise their kids are offended when stuff like this comes around, but maybe it’s just a reminder that they need to be the ones raising their kids…not the media.

Will I see it? Will I let my kids see it? Maybe, maybe not, but the focus of my attention, and the energy I put into protecting my kids will not be put into creating or passing on forwards. Instead, I will get heated and offended about my own actions; about my own words; about the picture of God I give to my kids in the way I care for them, in the way I love their mom, in the way I talk to the waitress at Applebee’s; in the way I spend money; in the way I cook pancakes, or drink beer, or treat the dog…and I could go on and on and on…because I know that some of my own most insignificant actions or words will have much more weight in the lives of my kids than this movie.

Here’s a quote from Philip Pullman, the author of the Golden Compass:
“I don't know whether there's a God or not. Nobody does, no matter what they say. I think it's perfectly possible to explain how the universe came about without bringing God into it, but I don't know everything, and there may well be a God somewhere, hiding away.
Actually, if he is keeping out of sight, it's because he's ashamed of his followers and all the cruelty and ignorance they're responsible for promoting in his name. If I were him, I'd want nothing to do with them.”

I think kids have a much more believable, tangible, picture of what it looks like to kill God in the real life movie they experience everyday than a vague fairy tale about armored polar bears and golden compasses and dying gods.

Baby Shower

2007-11-13T11:15:00.001-08:00

Amy had her first baby shower this weekend! It was awesome.
Amy's mom and aunt were in charge of recording video...and I guess they made a side trip to the zoo... Click "read more" to watch the video.

Here it is:

Home!

2007-11-12T09:07:00.000-08:00

Well, we are home now. Everything is going well. Amy’s on bed rest until the babies are born, which will hopefully be 8 or 9 weeks. (Jan. 2-9) I’ve got some pictures and a few funny video clips that I’ll post a little later. Thanks for all the ways everyone has helped out and prayed for us.

Pre-term Labor

2007-11-09T10:56:00.001-08:00

Here's the scoop. (I can't give too many of the details because there is a line for the internet at the hospital)
Wed. @ 6:00pm, arrived at hospital. Amy called with questions about the braxton hicks, and they said we should come in and get checked out. By 8:00 Amy was dialated(sp?) to 1 centimeter and having contractions every 3 mins. They put her on an IV drip Magnesium sulfate to slow her contractions down and gave her steroids to help develop the babies' lungs.
Magnesuim sulfate runs for 48 hours and then they moniter her contractions for 24 hours after they take her off the Mag.
It's Friday now, they took her off the Mag a little early because she is doing well. They anticipate us leaving Sat. Morning with the potiential of going to our expected C-section date (early Jan.)
That's it for now, but I'll post more when we get home. Thanks so much for everyone who has helped out!

Yerba Mate

2007-11-01T05:34:00.000-07:00

Do you ever wonder what the bong looking thing is that I carry around all the time? Click "read more" to watch Samantha Brown from the travel channel explore Uruguay and experience Yerba Mate.

Nursery

2007-10-31T07:33:00.000-07:00

Well, we finally finished the nursery! It took a lot longer than I had anticipated, but now it's done! You can click "read more" below to check out a video.

Here it is:

House Church

2007-10-30T10:38:00.000-07:00

We had a great time at house church last night! Click "Read More" below to check out some pics.

Brian Regan

2007-10-29T10:06:00.000-07:00

yeah...this makes me laugh.

You can check out more videos here.

invisible

2007-10-26T13:59:00.001-07:00

I spent much of my afternoon praying today. Unfortunately this is unusual for me. A few different things came to mind as I was praying. Some of you came to mind. A passage from a book called James came to mind as well, it says something like this: “following Jesus takes balls.” Yeah, I guess that’s just my own translation. It really says that following Jesus means following Jesus. It means taking action. It means loving the oppressed and the cast out and the poor, and those experiencing injustice. It means standing up, and alongside those who get beaten down and pushed away. But in my mind, I have the ability to make those things disappear…

It’s hard for me to imagine how my brain has the ability to pretend things as real and as tangible as the jar of starburst sitting on my desk in front of me don’t exist. As often as I glance at this jar, my mind is bombarded with images of poverty and injustice. Graphic pictures of children wounded by car bombs. Blood soaked strips of fabric formerly weaved together as clothing draped over people celebrating liberation in Pakistan only to find that death had made it’s way into the midst of their parade. Unbridled flames that threaten to roam wherever they please leaving a haze occupying the void where homes once stood. People who know homelessness to an extent that my mind could not comprehend. Fathers and mothers who experience stress stimulated by whether or not they will have enough clean water for their children to drink. Yet my mind can conveniently gloss over these realities as if they are not real at all.
Is it because they are far away? In different countries? In different states?
Or does my mind have the ability to not only see past the devastation, injustice and poverty of other places, but here as well?
And if so, what am I not seeing? What has become invisible to me? Might God not only bring those things into focus, but give me the courage to do more than just pray. The courage to help. To feed. To care for. To love. To stand up for. To die for. Is this maybe what James means when he describes the core of what following Jesus is all about?

Breathe hope.

2007-10-25T09:25:00.000-07:00

The British version of “American Idol” had a guy on last year named Paul Potts. I saw his audition video this week for the first time.
For the most part, I like watching American Idol because I think it’s hilarious to laugh at the socially awkward people, and the people who think they are great singers and are offended to find that they are not.
Paul Potts’ audition was different. Every stereotype I know told me that this video would be hilarious. That he would horribly humiliate himself, and his embarrassment would only be made worse as Simon vividly criticized his singing just as much as his appearance. (I know that shouldn’t be funny, but I can’t help it.) But again, Paul Potts’ audition was different.
From his initial interview, through his singing and the reaction of the audience, which was everything from tears to standing ovations, there are a few things you can tell about Paul.
For so long, Paul’s life has been clogged with despair and his dreams weighed down by doubt. In a moment of courageousness he boldly calls out for hope to break through the long forgotten passages to his soul. Paul is an exception. Paul is an example. Paul is an encouragement.
My vision is clouded by stereotypes, and my eyes deceive my heart as I categorize and group together people, yet Paul reminds me that people can’t be categorized. That life takes effort. It’s not as easy as grouping people together and only associating with those in my group. Paul encourages me to peel back the layers of my own preconceived ideas and breathe hope into the lives of those around me. Breathe hope into the lives of people who normally get overlooked. Breathe hope into passageways of their souls where despair has clogged all entry. Paul is an exception. The “Paul’s” in your life might not have even a shred of hope to give them the boldness to be heard. What would it mean for you to remove the fog of social norms and peer into the heart of people; calling out their beauty, breathing hope into their souls.
Check out Paul’s audition tape here:

Paul went on to win the entire competition.

inhale

2007-04-27T11:31:00.000-07:00

When I was in middle school I had a math teacher named Mr. Logger.
Between classes we would see him outside sucking down as many cigarettes as he could, as fast as he could, before the bell rang and classes resumed. He also had this huge green thermos. It was the kind with the handle on the side, and the lid that you could take off and use as a mug. Every 20 minutes or so, all day long, he would walk over to this thermos he kept by his desk and refill his mug with steaming hot coffee.
I didn’t mind. None of this bothered me.
But, what did bother me…what drove me nuts…what made me nervous and sick to my stomach, was when I got stuck on a math problem.
I knew I needed his help to work through the problem, but if I asked, I knew he would come over to my desk, kneel down next to me, and blow his stinkin hot, coffee laden, cigarette breath right in my face.
…And then he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” John 20:22
This is Jesus breathing on his students.
They didn’t have toothpaste or toothbrushes back then, so his breath had to be pretty raunchy.
I can’t help but think of Mr. Logger, who I’m sure had good intentions, but needed to drink just as much Listerine as he did coffee.
So, that kinda weirds me out.
Jesus a teacher, leans over and right after lunch, breathes on his students.
The word “breath” is pneuma (nooma) and can mean “breath, wind, or spirit.”
Jesus breathes on his students and then says, receive the Holy Spirit, or breath. The words, Breath and Spirit are the same word, so Jesus is using this play on words.
Receive the breath. Receive the Spirit.
He then goes on to tell them about the spirit, the breath. It’s full of peace and joy, and hope, and truth, and comfort and love.
Breathe in.
It’s full of forgiveness, and grace, and love, and mercy, and hope.
Breathe out.
Inhale. Exhale.
Breathe in the breath of God and experience his love and hope and peace and comfort and joy.
Breathe out God’s love and hope and peace and comfort and joy on others.
There are times where I feel so lonely, and so hopeless. Times where I feel defeated and depressed and anxious and stressed out, and I breathe in.
Inhale God’s hope, and joy and comfort. And the more I breathe in the breath of God, the more I am able to breathe out his hope and truth and joy and comfort and peace into the lives of others.
Breathe in the breath of God.
Breathe out his breath on others.
Inhale.
Exhale.

"Be a good buddy and get off the shed"

2007-04-17T08:34:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I couldn’t find the SNL skit “get off the shed” where Will Farrell yells at his kid to get off the shed or he will flatten his face with a shovel…(see comments on previous blog)
But…I did find this clip from the ballad of ricky bobby that’s hilarious.
Click on "Read more" below to check it out.

king

2007-03-29T12:56:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid I used to peg my pant legs. Remember that? I had it down perfect.
I tried pegging my pants the other day and it looks ridiculous. I can’t believe that was ever cool, and yet I see on commercials the Gap has these new “skinny jeans” that taper at the bottom. I wonder if it’s gonna make a come back.
It’s weird how fashion and culture flow and weave in and out and change in such a way that we can quickly adapt and change with it.
There’s a story in a book called Deuteronomy where the nation of Israel asks God if they can have a king. They want a king because all the other nations around them have a king. God responds by saying, “well, I wanted to be your king, but if you want a king, then you can have a king, but he’s not going to act like all the other kings.” So God makes these rules saying that whoever they pick to be king can’t have too much money or horses, and he can’t have a lot of wives or exercise certain privileges which was exactly the opposite of all the other kings in the surrounding nations.
Why?
Why didn’t God just say yes or no? Because in the midst of this cultural wave that crashes against our minds and sways us back and forth and back and forth, somewhere deep down there’s God who doesn’t get swayed by the current. God doesn’t compromise his morals just because this summer’s newest skirt shows your underwear, or last years car is out of style. God’s not swayed by what other people think or say or do. But I am. I constantly evaluate myself against the changing pattern of culture around me. Do I fit in? Do I have the right hair cut, or clothes or am I the right weight? When the reality is we are defining “right” by the always shifting, never stopping surge of chaos around us. What if underneath all of that God’s waiting for us to look to him to tell us what’s pretty, and what’s fashionable, and what’s the right weight, and when we really need a new TV or car?
What if instead of patterning our perception of values around the morphing culture, we patterned our perception of values around a God who never changes?
I guess I kinda wonder how different my life would look if I really allowed God to reign as my King instead of Nike, or Gap, or Chevrolet or whatever else sways me.

journal

2007-03-07T08:56:00.000-08:00

I keep this black and white picture of my wife and I in a journal I use to pray. Often it’s a journal I use to question God, and if I read back through it’s pages, it’s a journal I’ve used to yell at God and sometimes even accuse God.

There are blank pages too. Pages where I’ve tried to pray, and I’ve come up with nothing. There are pages where I’ve drawn my feelings or lack of, and pages where I’ve babbled out phrases that I didn’t really understand or words that I didn’t mean.
But in the front there’s this picture.
It’s from the fall before I was married. Amy and I are standing in front of this old oak tree that’s massive trunk is wider than both of us together. I’m standing behind Amy with my arms wrapped around her shoulders and we are both smiling. You might look at that picture and say something like, “oh that’s nice,” or “that’s a big tree.” If you turn the page, and look just behind that picture that’s where you will read pages of chaos, and frustration, and questions, and confusion.
I didn’t put that picture there in the front to remind me to smile even when things inside might not feel like smiling, nor did I put that picture there to create this façade that might paint a picture over the realities of that which follow. I keep that picture in the front, to remind me that in the midst of everything; confusion or joy, frustration or happiness, there’s peace.
You may have heard God described as a rock. There’s this book called Psalms where poets describe God as being steadfast. There’s even a story where Jesus is sleeping in this boat in the midst of a huge storm. The other people on the boat freak out thinking that the storm is going to capsize the boat and they are all going to die. Jesus wakes up and with a word, the seas are stilled and the storm vanishes.
I keep that picture in the front of my journal to remind me that there’s peace. There’s this stillness. There’s this sense of calm. When I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around whatever just happened, or something that is about to happen, there’s peace. There’s something I can trust in. There’s something that doesn’t fade, or pass away, or change. As I cry out, or yell, or beat my fists against the chest of God, he hears me, and he sees me and somehow he breathes peace into the midst of my storm. That’s why I keep that picture in the front of my journal.

Broken

2007-02-28T11:40:00.000-08:00

There’s a passage in Deuteronomy called the “Shema,” or literally “Pay attention.” It’s a passage that’s prayed through several times a day by Jews all over the world. It starts like this: “Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord is one.”Another way to say it is “the Lord is whole.” It’s a passage about God’s unity. It’s a passage about God’s perfection.
Lawrence Kushner in his book Five Cities of Refuge describes this passage like this:
“We were more than part of it: we were of it and it was of us. Then we were born and everything began to fall apart, mothers and children, fathers and mothers, siblings, lovers, families, villages, nations. Earliest childhood is living in the unity; adulthood is surviving the brokenness.”
He goes on to say, “…what has come to be called spiritual maturity is remembering the ancient unity and trying to reassemble the shards.” (pg. 140)
I’m constantly reminded that the world I live in is broken.
Brokenness is in the news.
Should we be more concerned about 200lb eight year olds or Jennifer Hudson’s Academy Awards, or the fact that those stories made the front page and the atrocities in Darfur go overlooked?
Brokenness.
We can find brokenness is in our television shows. In our workplaces. On our computer screens. In the 76lb fashion model our daughters long to look like. In the so called, ‘war on terror.’ In our conversations with our spouses. In our response’s to our children. In our families and in our homes.
How do we live in the midst of this brokenness and try to reassemble the shards?
How do we grasp the reality that God is whole?In my brokenness, it’s hard for me to even recognize or understand that which is whole. As much as I long for wholeness, I can’t cling on to it without wondering how long until it breaks too. Yet God is one. God is whole. God has stepped into our brokenness and begun to pick up the shards and piece them back together, and the next time I experience brokenness he’s there once again sweeping up the mess and reassembling the wreckage. Sometimes I’m the source of the brokenness that chips away at the lives of others, and then there’s times I feel like the windshield that slowly spiders to the point where the next pebble, or the next stone, or the next word, or the next look, or lonely feeling, inadequate thought, or embarrassing moment might shatter me to pieces. Yet God is one. God is whole. God never breaks, but is willing to be with me when I’m broken. This is some of the comfort and the wonder and the confusion of the Shema, you can read it in Deuteronomy 6:4

Smelly Feet

2007-02-19T12:49:00.000-08:00

So last night I was sitting on the couch watching CSI (yes…one of my many TV addictions, I'm working on it though).
Anyway, I'm watching with Amy and she starts to smell something really bad. Now, usually I'm quick to admit it if it's me. But I was pretty sure I didn't do it.
Amy has like this super sniffer, so she can smell anything from anywhere and if she can't figure out what the smell is or where it's coming from, it drives her nuts. So she smells this smell and starts walking around the room sniffing everything. She's convinced that somehow I did something to make the stench. So as she's walking around sniffing the couch, the kitchen, the trash, the dishwasher….she leans over and smells my feet, which were propped up on the sofa right next to where she was sitting.
At that point, her gag reflex kicks in, and she plugs her nose and makes a really funny face and points at my feet.
Now, I've never really had smelly feet. I wash my feet. I always wear clean socks. My shoes don't smell bad. Yet she was convinced my feet were the source of the smell that was now making it's way to my nostrils, so I knew she wasn't kidding around. I'm not really that flexible, so as hard as I tried I wasn't really able to get my foot anywhere near my face to smell myself, so I had to take her word for it. So I jumped in the shower and started washing my feet and that's when I noticed it. I had this huge blister on my foot from my toe rubbing against the side of my shoe while I was running. This blister, just so happened to have popped, and I'm sure the stuff that oozes out of those things can't smell that great. So yes…the source of the stench was my foot, which is clean now, thanks to my wife's great sense of smell. (I still had to sleep with socks on though…:)
I thought I'd share something kinda funny, and I guess kinda gross, and if you end up reading this and would like to read bits and pieces of my life (as real as it is) some thoughts on the scriptures, my struggles with prayer and how I strain to understand God, post a comment and let me know. (just click the comment button below).

hooperatay

2007-02-12T14:13:00.000-08:00

The ships were the largest, most sophisticated, elite ships of the first century. They were made for battle, defense and to show off the greatest empire in the world, The Roman Empire. At the very base of these colossal boats, at the waterline, were dozens of small portholes. Protruding from these portholes, oars rhythmically plunged into the water, back, and into the water again.
Inside, convicted felons were forced to spend the rest of their lives chained to these oars. The dim light that managed to work its way through the cracks in the wood from the upper deck and sometimes past the oar through the porthole was the only glimpse of daylight these slaves could ever hope of seeing again. Slaves died daily. Roman soldiers walked down the isles with whips and rods to motivate the rowers. Food was scarce. Rowing for days on end, sleeping little if any, fed the minimum to survive, these slaves lived for one thing only, moving their oar back and forth. This lowest level of the ship, the galley, was dark, hot, musty....unbearable. The slave would receive no pay, no recognition, in fact most likely they would die holding their oar...yet...they were the ones who provided all the power for this massive ship to move. Without the work of these slaves, these ships would be useless!
Paul, a writer of a large portion of the Second Testament, uses a Greek word
pronounced, “hooperatay,” in 1 Corinthians 4:1:
“So then, men ought to regard us as servants of Christ…”
This word in English, normally translated as "servant," literally means "under-rower" or "galley-slave." In Paul's day, a person who heard this word, or read this word, would immediately think of the Roman Empire and their fleet of massive ships powered by these under-rowers or galley-slaves. Then this writer, Paul, takes an amazing twist. He says, “you know those galley-slaves? Those under-rowers? We are to be just like them for Jesus Christ.” It’s so crazy when I begin to thing about what that means for my life on a daily basis. How am I to be a slave for Christ? What does this look like from the time I get up in the morning, till I get up the next? What does it look like to be a slave for Christ at the grocery store, or when I’m mowing my lawn, or pumping gas?
Paul simply says the life of a Christ follower isn’t always easy. Our devotion to proclaiming the truth to those who haven’t heard it, isn’t always easy. He says that we are to voluntarily chain our wrists to the oar of truth. Just as these slaves lived for one thing only, and everything they did, they did chained to an oar, we are to have that same devotion in serving Christ. Paul says that sometimes, being a galley slave in ministry for Jesus Christ is hard, and when it gets tough, and when you feel like quitting, remember why you are serving...1 Corinthians 4:1-2:
“So then, men ought to regard us as servants of Christ and those entrusted with the secret things of God. Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful.”
We are serving because we are spreading the secret of Jesus Christ to the world, and most of all, with this trust, with this truth, with this secret, we must be faithful. Don't give up. We have been entrusted to power this massive ministry ship to spread the truth of Jesus Christ to the world and if we give up, if we get tired and leave our oar, the ship may lose speed...so don't give up, be faithful.