tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81717191117357382202024-02-02T14:22:18.346-05:00 CraigDaliessio.comWelcome to CraigDaliessio.com the home of author / speaker Craig Daliessio
Reach Craig at craigd2599@gmail.com
Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.comBlogger128125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-74937198855972834762022-11-22T07:03:00.002-05:002022-11-22T07:03:41.144-05:00"The Other Ones at Christmas"<div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> The Other Ones at
Christmas<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>I absolutely love this time of
year. Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. Second only to
Independence Day. And my daughter’s birthday.<br />I love everything about it. I
love the songs, the TV specials, the way we all seem to be nicer and friendlier
and more hopeful.<br />Sometimes I go outside on those
long cold December nights and remember when I was a little boy, staring up into
the sky at night to see if I could see the Bethlehem Star. Or Rudolph’s nose
blinking.<br />Everywhere you look, there is
joy, and happiness and smiles. Even under the stress of the season…buying the
right gifts, planning the menu, where is grandpa going to sleep, there is an
undercurrent of the awareness of what this season really means.<br />But there are others at Christmas…and
I find myself perched precariously between both worlds.<br />There are others at Christmas for
whom this season tears at the soul. Because on the one hand we want to
celebrate with all the joy and gusto that everyone else does. We feel it in our
hearts. We see it in the store windows, and we hear it in the jingle of the
Salvation Army bell ringers at the kettles in the Mall. We are as excited as
everyone else for this wonderful season.<br />But for us…the “other ones at
Christmas,” there is another feeling. Another part of the picture that not
everyone sees.<br />There are some of us who have
lost someone dear at Christmas and the season will always be bittersweet for
us, no matter how much time goes by. Or maybe we lost someone, and their
birthday is near Christmas, or they really really loved Christmas and the
season -while joyous and festive—reminds us that they aren’t here. There are
friends who experienced loss around this time and every blinking light, every
shining bauble, every Christmas carol, calls out the name and reflects the face
of the person they miss so much.<br />A sister (in my case) a wife, a
husband, a mom, or dad. They are <i>supposed </i>to be here, and they aren’t,
and we feel it. We feel it in the quiet moments between shopping madness and
food prep and travel and putting up lights and trees and Church Christmas
plays. In the early hours…or late at night when we turn off the Christmas
lights and head to bed, we feel their absence.<br />Some of us (and I find myself at
the top of this list) love this season deeply, and yet, we painted a picture of
how it was going to be when we were “grown-ups” at Christmas, and it hasn’t
turned out the way we saw it. When I was a kid I vowed to have the best
Christmases ever, with my wife and kids. I would be Clark W. Griswald, and my family
would fashion memories that would last a lifetime.<br />But it’s my 23<sup>rd</sup>
Christmas post-divorce now. I have only one child, and I haven’t spent
Christmas with “someone” in all that time. I am a romantic, especially at
Christmas. I want to give the perfect gift, that she opens and says, “You
really know me…this is perfect.” I want to get that same perfect gift. The one
that says “I have spent these years with you, and I really know you and I
really love you and I just knew you’d love this…” And she’d be right because
she really does know me.<br />I’m not <i>known. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Not in that sense. And as Holy and sacred
as Christmas is, it is also very romantic. And I feel the absence very deeply.
Maybe making it worse is the fact that I know who I would spend my Christmas
with, if I could make it happen. But I can’t, try as I may. Though the eternal optimist
in me prays every day that it will happen. It’s Christmas when I feel it a
little more. Long for it more deeply. I want family at Christmas. Not extended
family…I have that and love them dearly. But I want to feel like the other half
of my heart has come home for Christmas and is still hasn’t.<br />I miss my daughter being little
at Christmas. I miss waiting until she had gone to bed and was almost- but not
quite—asleep and climbing up on the roof and stomping around and calling out “Ho
Ho Ho!” and jingling the sleighbells I kept hidden in my closet, so she’d never
find them and realize it was me up there.<br />I miss the little advent
calendars we did together and the Christmas cards she’d sign in quivering hand
as she was just learning to write. I miss her joy at opening presents and her
thankfulness. She was always so appreciative for everything. I miss her being
little and still believing and being caught up in the almost overwhelming rush
of Christmas spirit.<br />I’m one of the “Other Ones at
Christmas.” For whom this wonderful, joyous season leaves just a trace of
sadness and longing. You can see it if you look in my eyes, if you look past
the reflection of the Christmas lights and the flash of the smile the season
brings me. If you hear me singing a Christmas carol or harmonizing with Frank
Sinatra or Bing on “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” It will be unmistakable
if you happen to glance at me when Chrissy Hynde sings “2000 Miles,” and
thinking how I want someone who longs for me like that.<br />You’ll see that longing. The
dream of what it was going to look like if it had all gone according to plan.<br />So forgive me…forgive us, The
Other Ones at Christmas, if you happen to glance at us and see us- for just an
instant—seeming a little sad. It’s because we are. It’s because Christmas has
the possibility, each year, to be the most perfect few weeks, the “Most
Wonderful Time of the Year” as the song says. And it could be for us. If just a
couple things had worked out differently. We still love this season. We still
celebrate. We’re still happy and joyful and none of the magic is lost on us.
But underneath it…we feel something a little extra. And it tempers our joy.
Please bear with us. All of us believe we’re only one more Christmas away from
it being like we dreamed it would. </span></div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p></o:p></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-45537011856397604892022-08-07T08:41:00.003-04:002022-08-07T08:43:03.385-04:00Thoughts on losing my dad...<p> </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-family: georgia;"> I lost my father yesterday.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He passed away at 79 years old. He would
have been 80 in November.<br />The truth of the matter is…I lost
him before I was even born.<br />I’ll spare you the details, but
the thumbnail is this; He was 20 and my mother was 19. They met while he was
home from college on Christmas break. They dated a bit, did the deed and I was
born the following September.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had no desire to marry my mother,
something for which I have never blamed him.<br />My guess is he had no desire to
be eternally connected to someone so toxic. I wouldn’t have married her either
and I told him so in the only conversation we ever had, 43 years after I was
born.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He chose, instead, to drop out of college and
join the Army. He decided that the hell of Vietnam was better than the hell she
was putting him through. I know how she is. I can completely understand
choosing a likely death in war over a life with her.<br /> My father did two tours. When he
enlisted, tours were 18 months then they were cut down to 12. He did one of
each. He spent thirty months in country, was wounded twice and won three Purple
Hearts. He was a hero.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He came home and within ten days was hit
with a court order from my mother, requesting he terminate his parental rights.
She was getting married and had convinced her husband (I don’t like to use the
term “stepfather” when describing him. A stepfather, to me, is one who “steps
in” and at least <i>tries</i> to be a father to a child. Tom didn’t even like
me, much less try to be fatherly.) to adopt me.<br /> My gut feeling is she was still
in love with my father and was hoping this would shake him up and he’d marry
her instead.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My father, instead, called her bluff yet
again and signed me over. He agreed to pay the $700 adoption fees in exchange
for being rid of this blemish on his life once and for all.<br />I never knew any of this, of
course, since I was five when this all happened. I was simply told that Tom was
my father. Bob was never mentioned at all, until I was 21.<br />
I asked my mother once why I had no memories of “dad” (Tom) until I was 5. She
said it was because he sailed on oil tankers and was never home. This was actually
true…but it had nothing to do with why I don’t remember him. It’s because he
didn’t meet my mother until I was almost five. But lying to me about my father
was sort of the rule of the house by that point.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fast forward to Christmas 1984. I was a
freshman in college and was home for Christmas break. I had bought my parents
an anniversary card because their anniversary was December 10. I was sitting in
the rec room talking to my mother. I told her I didn’t know if it was their 22<sup>nd</sup>
or 23<sup>rd</sup> anniversary so I didn’t get one of those specific cards. I
was 21, so I figured they had to have been married at least 22 years.<br /> My mother says, “It’s our 17<sup>th</sup>.”
And starts crying.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She immediately starts telling me how Tom
isn’t my father, and my real father was Bob and she filled me in on as much as
she knew about him. I was in disbelief and had to drive to Philly and confirm
it with my grandmother before I would believe it. When my grandmother started
to cry as soon as I told her what happened…I knew it was true.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was 21. I immediately felt relief. At
least Tom wasn’t my father. At least now I understand why my father hates me…he’s
not actually my father. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then I felt
something else. I didn’t know I was feeling it, but I felt it. I felt betrayed.
I felt like I was the subject of the biggest con job in the world. I doubted
everything I knew about myself from that moment on. Who I was. What I was. My
mother had lied to me about my father…what else did she lie to me about?<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell people it’s like you go to work on
Monday morning and find out someone reached into your laptop and ripped out the
hard drive while you were working on an important document. And to make it
worse…they replaced your Windows operating system with an Apple. It won’t even
work. You’d have to sort out code and wires just to get it to boot up. Your files
are all gone. Everything on your memory cards is now “corrupted” by doubt.
Nothing you “saved” can be trusted. Including everything you thought you knew
about yourself.<br />Six years.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took me six years to sort through that
enough to even try contacting Bob. Six years of figuring out who I really was.
Things I thought I “got from my father” that I didn’t. Things about me that
were so very different from my siblings, that I often wondered about but wrote
off as me just being different.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Underneath all of it, I was scavenging for
anything I could find out about my father. In those days, before the internet,
there wasn’t any real way of researching someone. Unless you had mutual acquaintances
or they had made the papers somehow, you had no chance of learning about them.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did manage to get his address. He was in
the Pennsylvania phone book. I drove by his house two or three times one
summer. Each time I thought about knocking on the door. Each time I was too
afraid.<br /> My father was intimidating to me,
and I had never even met him.<br /> I wondered if he somehow had been
keeping tabs on me. Would he be proud of me. Would he be embarrassed?<br /> I couldn’t bring myself to knock
on the door.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was six years before I wrote him the
first letter. I don’t remember what I said. I just told him who I was. Who my
mother was. And I was explicit in my position that I wanted nothing from him
financially. I wasn’t looking for money or a claim to the estate. I told him I
would sign any legal waiver stating that. I just wanted to know my dad. I
wanted to know who I was and who he was. Who my family was. I needed to know
the other half of me.<br />I mailed the letter in Spring of
1989. In August of that year, I came home to his voice on my answering machine.
I was almost 27 and was hearing my dad’s voice for the first time.<br /> “Hi Craig. It’s Bob. I got your
letter. Just calling to check on you. I’ll call again.”<br />My knees went weak, and I sat in
a chair with tears in my eyes. “That’s my dad…” I said to my girlfriend at the
time, who was with me that day for a Phillies game and came over for dinner
afterward.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I talked to him about a week later. He
called me on a Sunday evening. I guess it was surreal at first…I was 27 and
hearing my father’s voice for the first time. He filled me in on his side of
things. He refused to speak ill of my mother…something I always respected him
for. Even though I told him how I felt and that I never blamed him for not
marrying her. I wouldn’t have married her either. I know her. He tried to
convince me not to feel that way, but I reminded him I had been with her all my
life…I know her. I know what she is capable of, and I can only imagine what
sort of hell she put him through. To his credit…he never said a harsh word
about her, even when I gave him permission to do so.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had one cobbled attempt at a face to
face meeting when I was thirty. And that failed We both showed up at the
restaurant we had decided upon, but in typical man fashion, neither of us
described ourselves to the other and since we had no idea who we were looking
for, we both left thinking the other had stood them up. In reality, we were
about ten feet apart, waiting for a face we would not recognize because we
never described ourselves.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After that, something changed. He
stopped taking calls from me…infrequent as they were. I put it on the back
burner until I got married. I think I needed my dad to know I was getting
married. I was a man. Taking a wife. Maybe he’d be proud of me. Maybe he’d have
some nugget of wisdom. But he wouldn’t answer when I called.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got married. We moved to Nashville. A
year later we found out we were pregnant. “Maybe now…” I thought. “Maybe now my
dad will want a relationship. He’s about to have a granddaughter.” I called him
the day after Daisy was born. I told him about his granddaughter, and he told
me “Well you’re on an island now. Just you and your wife and your daughter.
Nobody is there for you but you.”<br />That was it. Not “Congratulations”
not “I’m happy for you” not “Send me some pictures of her.” Nothing. His
rejection now included his own granddaughter.<br /> And still I couldn’t hate him,
and still he intimidated me and still I wanted a relationship with him.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I waited nine more years. Some events
within my family, some of whom I had come to know and love by this point,
caused me to reach out one more time. This time, though, I forced his hand. He
finally called me. He actually drove from Pennsylvania to Franklin TN where I
lived. We met and talked for three hours. I was elated. I felt like I had
finally met my dad. He made it clear I didn’t need to be ashamed anymore. I was
welcome at family events (He was one of 14 children and family gatherings were
huge affairs) I was free to claim who I was. (I had changed my name back to “Daliessio”
in 1997 before my daughter was born. That was my name at birth and for the
first five years of my life. I didn’t want to perpetuate the lie for another
generation)<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then…almost inexplicably, he turned on
me again. He began denying he was my father. He demanded a DNA paternity test…but
he would never actually submit to one. I scheduled a test at least six times
and he never showed.<br /> He would tell everyone I wasn’t
his son but would never take a single step to prove it. To me this was simple.
If someone is claiming to be your child and you are that sure you are not his
father…you take the test! But he would not.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From 2007 until 2012 I pursued him and the
test. I finally gave up.<br />I called him the summer of 2012.
I knew he wouldn’t answer the phone, but I called anyway. I left him a voice
message. I told him; <i>“Bob this is Craig. I want you to know I am done. Done
with you and your bullshit (I was pretty upset).” “I don’t care about the test
anymore. I know the truth. And you know it too, or else you’d get the damned
test done and prove me wrong. I want you to know, you missed out on a wonderful
granddaughter. Neither of us wanted a thing from you, only a connection. To me,
you’re no hero. You’re not a great man. Your medals and your honors and your
Doctoral degree are all bullshit. You’re a coward in my eyes. I’m more of a man
than you’ll ever be, and it has nothing to do with you. I know how that test
will turn out and you do too. Or else you’d get it done. I know you’re my
father and YOU know you’re my father. And I don’t even care anymore. It’s YOUR
turn to hide. YOUR turn to be embarrassed at family get togethers. I’m not
going to hide in the shadows anymore, afraid of you and afraid of making you
uncomfortable. I’ve been uncomfortable for 25 years now. I’m done.”<br /></i>I hung up.<br /> I’d love to tell you I felt better
but I didn’t. I felt like it was final. I felt like I said my peace. But it
still hurt.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The truth is I still needed my dad. I’ve
never seen him smile. I never told a joke and made him laugh. I would have
liked to have heard him tell me, just one time, that he was proud of me. That I
was a great dad. That my ex-wife was wrong. That I was doing well.<br /> My dad was a college football
player. I played hockey in college. There were times I would instinctively look
in the stands for a fleeting second, hoping to see my father there, watching me
play.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted him to know my daughter. To hear
her amazing singing voice. To bestow some sort of blessing on her. To let her
know she too was part of this family. But none of this happened. In fact, on
two occasions he went out of his way to reject us openly in front of the rest
of the family. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once was just me. But the
second time, my daughter was there too. That was as close as I came to hating
him. Reject me all you want, but don’t reject her. Don’t embarrass my daughter.<br />We never spoke again. Not after
that three hour conversation in Tennessee.<br /> He died yesterday.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would like to tell you it doesn’t
matter. One of my friends said “Why do you care? He had no impact on your life.”
But he did. He impacted me from before I was even born.<br />He is half of who I am. The half
I had to discover at age 21. His absence left me lonely for a father figure. My
stepfather never wanted that job. I barely existed in his eyes. They say you
can’t miss what you never had. But you can. You do. I missed my dad every day
of my life.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I was alone at Little League games without
a parent in the stands. When I was funny, and gregarious, and intellectual and
intelligent…all the things my father was. All the things I was not allowed to
be in the home I grew up in. I missed him when I had a burning desire to go to
college, like he did, but it was forbidden in my home. (I had to wait until I
was 21 and go without my parents blessing)<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I missed him telling me I was a good dad.
Giving me marriage advice or fatherhood advice or lawn care advice. I missed
having him watch an Eagles game with me or going out for a beer and talking
about life.<br />I missed seeing him smile. I
never heard my dad tell me he loves me. Not once.<br />I missed seeing him grow old. I
missed his war stories. I never saw him be a grandfather to my daughter. I
missed those things.<br /> I’ve chased his ghost since I was
21.<br /> Now he’s gone and I fear I’ll
chase his ghost until I, myself, an a ghost.<br />I have it in perspective. I long
ago stopped thinking his rejection was because of anything I did. That helps a
little. But not much.<br /> I’d always hoped that something
would happen…some event would shake him from his tree and make him reach out
and we’d have the relationship a 59 year old man has with his 79 year old
father. Whatever that looks like. But that isn’t coming. Not ever.<br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could hate him if I was so inclined and
let myself be bitter. But I know bitter people and it takes more out of you
than it does the person who is the object of your bitterness. So, I never hated
my dad. I never spoke evil of him. I was mad at him for the way he treated me
these last year’s especially. But I never hated him. And I still don’t.<br />I prayed for him when I found out
he was sick. I forgave him and I prayed that God would make sure he was right
with Him. Maybe we can have a relationship in Heaven one day.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dad did impact me. His rejection of me
and the gaping hole he left in me, is what drove me to be a great dad to my
daughter. It’s why I loved coaching. It’s why I still have a deep tenderness
for fatherless children…especially fatherless boys. I look at my daughter and I
see what an impact I had on her life, simply by being there. Being involved.
Making sure she knew…come hell or highwater…her daddy loved her, and he would fight
hell itself for her.<br /> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shudder to think of what might have
happened had I chosen to be the dad my father was to me. The world is
frightening. It’s even more so without your dad.<br />So, if he left me a legacy, it
was the determination to be a better dad than he was. And I think I did the
job. And I think it makes me a better man than he was too.<br />The funny thing is, It still
hurts.<br /> Rest in peace, dad. I forgive
you. You didn’t break me. But you did hurt me. I forgive you for that too.<br /> Because I’m the better man.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-91107335853906484852022-04-02T07:53:00.002-04:002022-04-02T08:19:40.164-04:00Year Three...<div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsf6RBy-ktlc50IWA2XRO-GEGlaMiHaAdCXSjmR8ocYund8ya-L13p74M_UDUUh43BcDTbF_B_wrHoS-n16Vxi5k6khlO4ErP1CJAxHjARTrxzY0Vjj1TMPS5C5gko2_rfr9yTeTyWEf_3Za6N1ZtKIQqEIEpGsgwk9qgR2tGK8e5LdrwvEko1HHQuw/s1530/271651536_10165824931090263_6604196882698505466_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1530" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsf6RBy-ktlc50IWA2XRO-GEGlaMiHaAdCXSjmR8ocYund8ya-L13p74M_UDUUh43BcDTbF_B_wrHoS-n16Vxi5k6khlO4ErP1CJAxHjARTrxzY0Vjj1TMPS5C5gko2_rfr9yTeTyWEf_3Za6N1ZtKIQqEIEpGsgwk9qgR2tGK8e5LdrwvEko1HHQuw/s320/271651536_10165824931090263_6604196882698505466_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Three years.<br />It’s been three years since that
fateful day and still, sometimes it feels like yesterday. Sometimes it feels
like a dream, and maybe it never happened, and it’s just been a while since our
last phone call. But reality is always a cold cruel mistress and I remember
that day. That day three years ago.<br />I had just pulled up into my
driveway. The driveway of the new house I had closed on only two weeks before.
Rick had been so happy for me and my daughter Daisy. He and Linda had been
there with me through every hard mile of the previous ten years. He’d
encouraged me, given me advice, prayed for me, and as was his style...helped me
laugh through the hardest times.<br />Rick was more than simply a
musician whose music I was a devoted fan of. I was more than just a fan who had
managed to strike up a conversation with my favorite artist. Rick had become my
“big brother.” He was the closest friend I had in Nashville and one of the
closest friends in my life. He and Linda were a family to me when I needed one.<br />
Rick and I got each other. Our
similar upbringing and Italian heritage bound us in moments of wildly
hysterical storytelling, and also the unspoken brotherhood of both of us having
grown up without any interaction with our fathers. There were things we could
talk about with each other that we couldn’t talk about with very many other
people in the world.<br /> I could talk about Rick’s career
and his body of work. I could rank his albums in order of my personal liking. I
could tell you about the best show I ever saw him play or the people in his
universe that he introduced me to. People who were recognizable stars in their
genre. I could have done that if I had only remained a fan for the 32 years, I
knew Rick.<br /> But a funny thing happened...<br />Somewhere along the way -and it
happened rather early in our relationship—Rick stopped being a musician, or a
celebrity in the world of CCM, or the brilliant writer and producer of the “That
Thing You Do!” soundtrack.<br /> Rick just became my friend. My
dear, beloved friend. My brother.<br />I was wanting to post some
pictures of Rick and I together and I realized that I really only have one. It
was taken at the “Creation 91” festival in Pennsylvania. Taken when I was still
more fan than friend. Taken when it was somehow a cool thing to be in a picture
with Rick Elias.<br /> I am bad about remembering to
take pictures with my friends. I guess it’s because I see them all the time and
I have so many pictures in my heart that a picture on my phone, or in a
scrapbook seems almost ridiculous. I wish I had more pictures of Rick and me.
Pictures at the annual Elias Christmas party would be great. Those parties were
epic, and nobody was funnier than Rick...except for Tom Howard’s annual gift of
“Butterfly Kugen.”<br />But I only have this thirty-one-year-old
picture of a mullet wearing Craig and a very weary Rick...arm in arm and the
backstage area of Creation. He had driven all night, with his band, from a gig
in Illinois, to play the early evening show. Oddly enough the soundcheck always
sticks with me. It was typical Rick...<br />The stage guys were trying to get
Linda’s mic levels right and the guy kept saying “Linda Linda, Linda,” in her
mic while the engineer adjusted. Then he sort of started making up stuff to
give the engineer more to work with. “Linda, Linda Linda...Linda Lou...Linda...”
It went on like this for a while. I think they might even had changed out her
mic.<br /> They finally got it right and
then moved on to Rick’s mic. The guy asked Rick to talk into the mic so they
could set his levels and Rick -never missing a chance to demonstrate his acerbic
wit—said.<br /> “Linda Linda Linda...<br />Linda is my wife!<br /> All you single guys.<br /> Better look the other way.”<br />It was half song and half
military cadence and funny as heck in the moment.<br />
It was typical Rick.<br /> I drove out to New Castle PA to
see him at a little church where he was playing a solo gig. He didn’t know I
was coming, and I surprised him as he was setting up his gear. It was a
wonderful concert. That was the night I heard him play “Man Of No Reputation”
for the first time. I sat there in silence when the song ended. I couldn’t
move. I had been brought face-to-face with Jesus Christ, in song, more clearly
than any other song had ever done in my life.<br /> After the show I helped him pack
his gear and we drove to Shoney’s for a very late dinner. New Castle is a small
little town and we joked and made “The Deer Hunter” references. If you knew
Rick, you knew that quoting movie lines at the perfect moment was one of his
great gifts.<br /> We sat down to eat, and he told
me that Linda had called him when he got to town and informed him that she was
pregnant with Zach, their youngest. Rick was excited and concerned all at once.
Excited because he loved being a dad. Concerned because he was a musician and
he took his responsibilities as a husband and father seriously, and a musician
isn’t always the most stable employment option when you have a family.<br />We finished dinner and said goodbye
and I drove back home the next morning.<br />I remember that morning when I
heard the news that Rich Mullins had died. I knew how close he and Rick were
and I knew that Rick treasured his friends. I called the house to let him know
how sorry I was and to tell him I was there. Rick was shaken and it was hard
for him to talk but he appreciated the call and he let me know that.<br />We moved to Nashville in 1997,
and it helped having friends there already. Rick was swamped at the time...”
That Thing You Do” he created a world of soundtrack opportunities for him, and
he was busy with producing “The Jesus Record” for his late friend Rich Mullins.
And he was raising a family and being a husband. But we made time to chat from
time to time.<br />One of the other great memories I
have of Rick is his deep abiding love for his friends. He didn’t throw his arms
open to the world, but if you made it to his inner circle, he loved you deeply.
Late one night he had gotten word that a friend from back in California had
passed away. Rick wrote the most heart wrenching post on FB, detailing how he
found out this friend had died, and how it hurt him, and how much his friends
meant to him. He tagged me and Bob Sale, and Tom Howard, and a few other guys I
can’t remember at the moment. He told us specifically, “I love you guys. I mean
it. We never say this enough to those we love.” I was floored. And honored. I
loved Rick as a brother and now I realized he felt the same way. Rick loved his
friends and his family with everything he had. If anything marked him as a
man...that, was it.<br />I remember the phone call in July
of 2018, telling me of his illness. I walked outside the building so I could
hear him better. I felt my knees buckle when he told me he had a brain tumor.
He told me the story of what had been happening leading up to the doctors
discovering what was wrong. And -as was his way—he spoke of his love and concern
for Linda. He wanted her to be okay. He wanted the kids to be okay. He wanted Reese
and Mazy to be okay. He wanted to <i>live</i>. Live for them. But if he couldn’t,
he wanted them to be okay when he was gone.<br /> The next nine months were a
painful blur. I kept in contact as best I could, while trying to respect his
time and the need to be with his family as much as he could. I was in Nashville
in October of 2018 and called to see if I could stop to see him, but they were
walking out the door to go to the airport and fly to Florida for one final
family vacation together. So, we chatted for a minute and planned on getting
together another time.<br />Time.<br />Time was the enemy all along. We
talked a lot. I tried putting together a fund raiser here in Lynchburg. Those
plans were altered when we tried to arrange flying him and Linda up here to
speak at Liberty. But his health, and the preparations for the Ragamuffin show
in January 2019 never opened that door.<br /> So, all we had were phone calls.
We talked about once a week or once every ten days. We ended every call with “I
love you.” The last call we had, I sensed something had changed. He had
worsened. Rick was always optimistic, at least publicly with his friends, about
his illness. But something in his voice sounded the slightest bit resigned. I
was sitting in the Kroger parking lot, about to go grocery shopping and I had
called him on the drive to the store and sat there in my truck until we said
our goodbyes.<br /> I told him what he meant to me
through the years. I recounted some great stories we’d shared. He made me
laugh, as usual. But there was sadness under it all. I didn’t know it was the
last time I’d talk to him...but I <i>knew.<br /><o:p></o:p></i>About a week later, I got a text
from our mutual friend Paul. Rick was back in the hospital, and it was grave. Then
at 5:30 that afternoon, as I pulled into my driveway, Paul texted me again.
Rick was gone.<br />I sat in my truck and cried. The movie
of our friendship played in my head as I tried to sort out my world without
Rick Elias.<br /> I went in the house and told my
daughter. She cried too. She loved Rick because she is a musician and a gifted
singer and Rick had taken time and shown interest in her through the years. Her
dream was to take his songwriting class at Belmont one day. Now that was not to
be.<br />It’s been three years. Three
years and some days it’s like it just happened. I still have a hard time
listening to Rick’s music. It is too full of memories. And it’s too final.
There isn’t any more of it and because of that, it reminds me he is gone.<br /> I miss my friend. I miss funny
conversations and watching the Superbowl with him and Linda, and
Christmas...man, he loved Christmas!<br />I miss his deep love for Jesus.
His sensitivity and his occasional profanity. His surgeon-precise truthfulness,
his acerbic wit, his hysterical rants...and the amazing depth of his heart. I
miss the love he had for his friends.<br /> I wish I had more pictures with
Rick. But I have a million of them in my heart and that will have to do.<br />Three years gone and I still miss
you like it was yesterday, my brother.<br />Thank you for all you gave this
world. Thanks for loving me back.<br />See you soon...<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p><o:p> </o:p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>
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Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-9554506498283090402021-12-30T10:37:00.006-05:002021-12-30T10:42:05.476-05:00The Greatest Love Song Ever Written<div style="text-align: left;"> Like any hopeless romantic, especially one who writes and loves the power and strength of words, I've collected what I thought were great love songs over the years.</div><div style="text-align: left;">And also, as a romantic and a writer, I dabbled in lyric writing from time to time. I'd say I'm "Not Bad." I'm no John Hiatt but I'm not embarrassing either.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I think, somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought I'd write the perfect love song one day. One that said it all, said it perfectly, and made people wipe away a few tears when they heard it.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Somewhere around 1991 I found out that the perfect love song had been written. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Marc Cohn wrote it. It was the last song on his debut album, the one best known for "Walking in Memphis." (Itself an indescribably wonderful song.)</div><div style="text-align: left;">He wrote these lyrics and when I heard them for the first time, I knew..."Nobody will ever write a song more perfect than this." This says it all. </div><div style="text-align: left;">The burden was lifted. Turns out I didn't have to write the perfect love lyric. <i>I just had to find the girl in this song.</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">I did. And maybe one day, if God permits, she'll see me in her heart when she hears this song. And she'll feel the same way I feel. And the perfect love song will become the perfect love.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Until then...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sp6zoc84NcU" width="320" youtube-src-id="sp6zoc84NcU"></iframe></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">True Companion</div><div style="text-align: left;">-Marc Cohn</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 12px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">Baby, I've been searching like everybody else</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Can't say nothing different about myself</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Sometimes I'm an angel and sometimes I'm cruel</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">And when it comes to love, I'm just another fool</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Yes, I'll climb a mountain</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I'm gonna swim the sea</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">There ain't no act of God, girl</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Could keep you safe from me</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">My arms are reaching out</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Out across this canyon</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I'm asking you to be my true companion</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">True companion</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">True companion</span></div><div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 12px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">So don't you dare and try to walk away</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I've got my heart set on our wedding day</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I've got this vision of a girl in white</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Made my decision that it's you alright</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">When I take your hand</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I'll watch my heart set sail</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I'll take my trembling fingers</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">And I'll lift up your veil</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Then I'll take you home</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">And with wild abandon</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Make love to you just like a true companion</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">You are my true companion</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I got a true companion</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Oh, a true companion</span></div><div class="ujudUb WRZytc" jsname="U8S5sf" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">When the years have done irreparable harm</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I can see us walking slowly arm in arm</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Just like that couple on the corner do, 'cause</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Girl I will always be in love with you</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">When I look in your eyes</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I'll still see that spark</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Until the shadows fall</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Until the room grows dark</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Then when I leave this Earth</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I'll be with the angels standin'</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">I'll be out there waiting for my true companion</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Just for my true companion</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">True companion</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">True companion</span></div><div class="ujudUb WRZytc" jsname="U8S5sf" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge"><br /></span></div><div class="ujudUb WRZytc" jsname="U8S5sf" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge"><br /></span></div></div>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-14400788698523989912021-12-02T07:57:00.003-05:002021-12-02T07:57:25.892-05:00A Child at Christmas. Looking for the Christmases I lost along the way...<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Anyone who knows me even a little,
knows I am the most “Christmassy” person on earth. I am Clark W. Griswold in
real life. I love the music, I love the lights, I love the decorations. I love
it all. But this year -and all the most recent Christmases—I’ve felt different.<br />With each passing year I’ve felt
less connected to the holiday than I have been previously. Something has been
missing and I couldn’t put my finger on it.<br /><i>Until now</i>.<br />I’ve been pondering this attitude
of mine since before Thanksgiving and last week I think I found my answer. I
think it is something shared by a lot of folks at the stage of life I find
myself.<br /> <i>I’ve lost the wonder.<br /></i>I’ve lost the wonder and the
magic of Christmas, and as I’ve been thinking about it and wondering why, I
believe I came up with some answers.<br /> <i>I think I’ve forgotten how to be a
child.</i><br />Jesus said “Let the little
children come to me and don’t deny them from approaching me. Because the Kingdom
of Heaven is inhabited by those who are childlike.”<br /> (Matthew 19:14)<br /> Last week I began another reading
of Brennan Manning’s “The Ragamuffin Gospel.” It has long been my favorite book
by Manning and one of the best works on the topic of Grace ever written. I read
it for the first time the day before Thanksgiving, 1993. You read that right…I
read the entire book in one day. In eight hours to be exact. I was so thirsty
for Grace and so desperate to know that God really loved me that I could not
put it down.<br /> I read more than half of the book
on my knees, sobbing as I read, gulping down the words of grace and God’s
affection. It changed me drastically. But over the years, something happened.<br /> Reading the book softened my
heart, but a soft heart must be maintained. Childlike faith grows into
skeptical doubt if you’re not careful. Life has a way of harming the innocent
among us and stealing whatever joy we found in simply believing God and taking
Him at his word.<br />That happened to me.<br />In the twenty-eight years since I
first read that book, the child I reconnected with that day was once again
forced into a closet somewhere in my heart.<br /> It happened slowly, over time.
When life took swings and connected with the occasional roundhouse to the chin.
Each time, the little child retreated further into some hiding place in my
soul.<br />Three years after reading the
book for the first time, I lost my little sister in a car accident. And the
child in me had a hard time understanding God’s plan in all of it, even though
His hand was mercifully on her even the day before her death.<br />Four years after reading the book
I got married. Five years after reading it I became a dad. Six years after…I
was divorced. The child was devastated. He had finally found an outlet for the
massive love in his heart, and it was gone before he even got started.<br />But I had my daughter, and so
-even as my childlike innocence was hardening into the carapace of adult cynicism
and doubt— I was able to see childlike faith and innocence on display through
her eyes and her heart and it kept me at least aware of what that all looked
like.<br />Christmas, when my daughter was a
child, was as exciting for me as it was for her. Maybe more so. Every memory we
created together, was a reminder of the wonder of Christmas and the promise of
the baby in the manger. Having a child at Christmas kept me connected to the
child I was at Christmas.<br />It was easy to remember the “why”
of Christmas. In fact, it was more vital and more real for me as a parent of a
small child, than it had been as a child myself. Christmas, when she was little,
was a season of wonder.<br /> But, as all children do, she grew
up.<br />My daughter is almost twenty-four
now. She hasn’t been a child in a long time. She might still be my child…my
little girl, but in reality, she is an adult and Christmas morning isn’t what
it was for her fifteen years ago.<br /> And so, I realized this week that
my reference had once again shifted to an adult view of Christmas. I don’t have
a little child in my home anymore from whom I can absorb the wonder and through
whom I can live the magic of Christmas vicariously. It’s two adults, a man and
his adult daughter, and the wonder is gone.<br />The music has not sounded the
same this year. Christmas music holds a place in my heart but this year it has
been flat. The movies I watch each season have struggled to hold my interest,
whereas in years past I could watch them over and again, happily, until the
season was done.<br />And perhaps the hardest truth
about Christmas this year, and in recent years, is that somehow…someway, I lost
sight of the Baby in the manger. The tiny infant in the center of the story who
is the whole reason we have this holiday.<br />Somehow, in losing all contact
with childlike faith, I lost contact with The Child at the center of that
Faith.<br />Reading Manning again has reminded
me of how it once was for me. How childlike faith felt when I first tasted it.
This week has been a daily pursuit of that child and The Child.<br /> It’s only December 2 and I am
determined to restore that child inside me and to find my way back to the sheep
pen where The Child once again lies. God Himself, in human skin, desiring to be
held, coddled, loved. Waiting to give His love to all who would venture to
Bethlehem, find Him in his lowly place in a sheep trough, and let Him do what
all babies do…touch our hearts in places we long ago forgot we even had. He
makes it okay to become children again. To have childlike faith again. To <i>wonder</i>
again.<br /> My friend Rick Elias once said: “He
was born in a barn, lived as a pauper, died on a cross in the trash heap of
Jerusalem. He was the son of God with spit running down his face…and I have
entrusted my soul to Him.”<br /> He was the very Son of God who
chose to leave Heaven, be born the same way my own child was born, wear human
flesh and be touchable, and vulnerable. He did this so that I could become a
child again.<br /> <i>His</i> child.<br />That… is what brings the wonder
to this holiday.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Merry Christmas everyone.</span> </span></div>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-85749581547185935082020-11-10T08:24:00.002-05:002020-11-10T08:24:47.289-05:00A brief word to Christians telling me not to worry about the outcome of this election...<p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;">Psalm 137</span></span></p><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">1 By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> when we remembered Zion.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">2 There on the poplars</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> we hung our harps,</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">3 for there our captors asked us for songs,</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> our tormentors demanded songs of joy;</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">4 How can we sing the songs of the Lord</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> while in a foreign land?</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">5 If I forget you, Jerusalem,</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> may my right hand forget its skill.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">6 May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> if I do not remember you,</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">if I do not consider Jerusalem</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> my highest joy.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">7 Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> on the day Jerusalem fell.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Tear it down,” they cried,</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> “tear it down to its foundations!”</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">8 Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> happy is the one who repays you</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> according to what you have done to us.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">9 Happy is the one who seizes your infants</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> and dashes them against the rocks.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">This Psalm is just one of many scriptures where open patriotism and love for country are heralded. Where the emotional disposition of the writer is directly tied to the fate of his homeland. </span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">To my Christian friends -well meaning, non doubt-- who insist on telling me that "God is in control" and "This is part of God's plan" and "I'm a citizen of Heaven," read the Psalm again. Throughout scripture there are examples of deep love for homeland and concern for her fate. Even Jesus, in his discourse with the woman at the well, and in other parts of the Gospel, made it clear He was there for Israel, first. </span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Last Tuesday very well might have begun the last days of this wonderful nation. This country is all I have. It's the only family to which I am CERTAIN I belong. (Beside the family of faith, obviously) Please spare me the high handed Bumper Sticker theology and platitudes. We're in more danger this morning than we were on 9/11. We're closer to the precipice than ever in our history and it was done by our own people. It wasn't the outside forces who figured out how to steal an election...it was people claiming to be the same American I am. </span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">If this doesn't break your heart, good for you. But please don't try convincing me that Christians are somehow above Patriotism. There are too many examples in scripture for that to be accurate.</span></div></div>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-39764593904828264382020-11-08T08:02:00.006-05:002020-11-08T08:04:57.188-05:00The last free election in the U.S.<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Since Tuesday night I have been heartbroken. I see this election differently than many and it's breaking my heart. I haven't slept well and my days have been spent in worry and deep thought.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> I am a hockey player and draw a lot of my observations from my time on the ice. Wayne Gretzky, arguably the greatest to ever play the game, was as successful as he was because he had an uncanny knack for seeing where the play was going, instead of focusing on where it was at the moment. He would pass to an open patch of ice, because he saw his teammate heading for it and instead of hitting him where he was, he sent to puck to where he was going to be in a split second, and opened up a million opportunities. </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> That's how I view last Tuesday's elections. The Democrats, and their owners, figured out how to pass the puck to where we're going. They figured out how to circumvent the rules while using the rules, Something only the truly evil genius can figure out.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"> The danger is not just Biden / Harris and the evil they will introduce into American society. The real danger is the PRECEDENT. How do you ever take away mass mail-in voting now that it's been introduced into the public awareness? An already lazy electorate will never give this up now that they've tasted it.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"> This wasn't about making it safer for voters in the midst of a "pandemic" it was about making a way to flip states without changing the electoral college rules. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: georgia; white-space: pre-wrap;">I promise you, you will never hear Democrats complaining about the Electoral College again. They've figured out a way to not only defeat it, but have it at the ready to validate their evil deeds. You just out-vote it with enough falsified mail-in ballots to render it unnecessary. You flood the system until you won the state and then the Electoral College does what it was intended to do. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"> And who will go to the American people now and say "That was a one-time deal because of the virus?" The Democrats will instantly call that "Voter Suppression!" and find a judge that agrees. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: georgia; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is the new reality folks. That's why I've been sleepless all week. That's why I'm sad to the point of tears. My beloved country has been checkmated by those who hate her. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Biden and Harris will come and go like all presidents. But the damage is permanent. 2016 will go down as the last time there was ever a true legitimate election in our history. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">This bell can't be unrung.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">God <i>Help</i> America...</span></div>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-36484712869551375262020-09-17T22:50:00.002-04:002020-09-18T06:32:02.761-04:00It's OUR Mountain Too<p></p><br />
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I am a proud Liberty University Alumni.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I loved my school in her success and I love her more now
when she has suffered a wound. This is <i>my</i> school. That’s <i>my</i>
mountain. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I know its God’s school. I know its Dr. Falwell’s school.
But a little piece of it is mine as well. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I’m from the generation who came to this mountain before
she had world class dorms, and world class food services, and world class
educational facilities. She had a football team that practiced out at Treasure
Island and played in Municipal Stadium. Williams Stadium was land we didn’t
even own yet when I arrived on campus.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">My freshman English classes were held in a single wide
mobile office trailer out where the old guard shack used to be…roughly where
the bookstore is now. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">We didn’t get financial aid back then, so I worked
thirty-five hours a week at Advance Auto Parts in Hills Plaza and repaired cars
in my spare time. We lived four to a room in rooms built for two. We rode buses
to Thomas Road Baptist Church on Sunday morning and Wednesday evening because
we weren’t allowed to go to any other church.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I played on the very first hockey team we ever had. We
skated on a frozen retention pond in the ravine, where the Vine Center would
one day stand. We played games in Roanoke.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Liberty was just a vision back then. Financially so shaky
that we’d go home at Christmas wondering if there’d be a school to come back to
in January. We did prayer walks. We wept with Doc. We believed that this place
would one day be all that he promised us it would. It would happen long after
we had left this sacred soil, but our kids, or our grandchildren, would attend
college here where we once did, only in the buildings he saw in his soul. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">My grandmother lived on a fixed income of $6600 per year
for the last ten years of her life. But she was so proud of me for going to
Liberty and studying to be a pastor, that she sent $20 per month before I was
even out of high school to support this place. She thought that somehow it would
be credited to me one day and I had to explain to her “Mom-mom…that money goes
to the college. If you want to help me, send it directly to me.” And she did. A
card showed up every month or so…maybe six weeks, in my campus mailbox. Always
at exactly the right time. Her beautiful cursive handwriting adorning the
envelope…only a little less beautiful and worn by arthritis which made it
harder to hold the pen. There would be a note and a crisp Twenty-dollar bill.
The note full of scripture and assurances that she loved me, she was proud of
me, and she was praying for me. <o:p></o:p></p>
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">My grandmother once scraped together enough money to buy
a memorial brick in the old religion hall. A couple of years ago, I was working for the university
when they tore the building down and I walked through there a few times trying
to find that brick. My grandmother’s “widow’s mites” were poured into this
school. My hopes and dreams were birthed here.</p></blockquote><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">When I was in high school, the only college I wanted to
attend was Liberty. Dr. Falwell was my hero. He was a visionary. He was
exciting. He was a patriot. He preached an unswerving message of the cross and
didn’t pull punches or mince words. I loved him. We all did. All of us “Jerry’s
Kids.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I learned life altering lessons here. I sat under solid,
old school preaching, and learned actual, tested and tried theology. I learned
to pray into the wee hours in the lobby of dorm five with my best friend Greg
St. Clair.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I preached sermons to empty chairs in the education hall
after classes were over. I dreamed of the same big God Dr. Falwell served and
got his vision from. I was <i>changed </i>here. I became a man here.
Emotionally and, especially…spiritually.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I was educated in theology and doctrine. I was taught to
test the spirits. To compare scripture with scripture. To not accept any old
teaching that came down the pike, simply because it sounded nice. I was taught
to rightly divide the word of truth. That God can use anybody, but especially
somebody who is prepared. Deeply, thoroughly, prepared.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">And Liberty prepared me. We had a dress code I bristled against,
but it taught me to submit to authority and look sharp. We had early classes
with unforgiving professors who didn’t abide excuses. But they made me
appreciate the early morning and manage my time better. We lived in tight quarters,
but they made it impossible to be a loner and I met the best friends of my life
in those years. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">It took me a long time to graduate. Life threw me some
curves and it took a while to reach home. But I did. And as I did, I was
solidified as a Christian. I knew the how and why of my Faith. I knew what it <i>meant</i>…
not just what it <i>felt</i> like.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">My classmates went on to start churches and Christian
schools and be strong, stalwart, Champions for Christ. We didn’t bend to the
culture…we stood against its push.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Now?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">My beloved Liberty has wandered so far from Dr. Falwell’s
original vision. Sure maybe we have the buildings and the facilities and the
sports teams and we’re flush with cash. But spiritually…we are not even close
anymore, to what he wanted for us on this mountain. We are no longer pushing
back against the culture. We are shaping the gospel to fit the culture. The
neo-evangelicalism that is pervasive at the Baylors of the world has it’s foot
in the door at LU and unless we act right now…we are heading for the same fate.
Christian on the sign on the highway, but pagan in our soul. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Not everything wrong with the spiritual atmosphere at LU
can be blamed directly on LU. The students coming to Liberty now aren’t the
same kids we were 40 years ago. They don’t come here to be pastors or Christian
schoolteachers. They come for a liberal arts education with some Jesus
sprinkled on top. They come here from far more theologically liberal homes
where emotion is doctrine and the difference between solid theology and heresy
is a blurred line. Liberty can only work with the raw materials sent to us.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">But where Dr. Falwell would have said “You’re here and
we’re going to indoctrinate you against the culture of the day"…the current
iteration of Liberty says “You’re here and we’re going to shape our spiritual
life here on campus to the culture out there.” “We’re going to tickle your ears
and feed your emotions and we’re going to imply that actual doctrinal education
and theological discourse is somehow stuffy and old, and the only thing that
matters is the emotionalism that we see on the You Tube channel of the latest
flock star." The uber pastors with entourages who come here as forty somethings
dressed as twenty somethings trying to pull a fast one on the kids…because they
see them as kids. Easy marks. They preach platitudes not sermons. They couldn’t
do an actual exegete if their lives literally depended on it. The names read
like a most-wanted list for biblical heresy: Lentz, Stanley, Wilkerson,
McManus… Posers and preeners, who crack jokes, emote, tell warm stories, and
couldn’t find their way through an actual theological discussion without a
roadmap and a flashlight. Narcissistic showmen who spew out-of-context
scripture references like a Pez dispenser. And anyone with even a basic grasp
of systematic theology can blow holes in their teaching like tearing a tissue.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">On top of these questionable (I’m being kind) teachers,
we’ve now been invaded by the Critical Race Theory, woke culture. A godless lie
that heaps burdens on innocent backs and itself breeds a more subtle racism in
the name of abolishing racism. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Two weeks ago, there was a “BLM-lite” march on campus.
They claimed not to be associated with the Marxist radical group BLM, but they
held up their signs and chanted the names of their heroes…including a sexual
predator named Jacob Blake. <br /><i>
And some of them knelt</i>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I assure you, if you knelt on this campus while Dr.
Falwell was alive, your bus ticket home would have been on your bed in your dorm
room before you got back there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And some
of our leadership stood with them.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The problem is large on Liberty Mountain. It’s a lack of
theological grounding. A lack of deep education and the absences of
peer-reviewed presentations. Somehow, someone made their own tape measure and
declared themselves ten feet tall. Bad teaching after bad teaching had
slithered its way into convo and the only thing worse than the fact that it
wasn’t recognized as bad teaching, is that it was i<i>nvited</i> to come here.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">We are not training young champions for Christ anymore.
Not by the real meaning of that term. A champion was a knight who entered
battle to defend the honor of his King. He was sharp. He was ready. He was
fierce. We are not training warriors who defend their King. They no longer no
how to wield the sword, how to use the shield. And they don’t even know when
their King has been offended.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The world has come in and dictated Liberty’s spiritual
life and atmosphere. It sounds nice. It’s a nice optic to have bus loads of
students picking up trash in Miller Park with LU T-shirts on. But as one
anonymous staffer told me, those same kids couldn’t explain salvation to a
child. The know platitudes but they could not defend the faith. The believe in
hell as a concept but not as a reality. Evangelicalism they
know…evangelism…they’ve never heard of it or practiced it. Doing alms and
service days in the community are fine. But that’s not what Jesus meant when He
said “The harvest is plenty, but the workers are few. Pray that God sends
harvesters into the fields.” Not trash pickers. Not bottled water deliverers. <i>Harvesters.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The alumni who have responded to my writing and my
program this week and last are upset. Our hearts are broken. We want change.
It’s not a person we want changed…it’s a process. We want the school Dr.
Falwell built. We want people making spiritual decisions who understand the
roots that alumni have here. The blood sweat and tears that we literally shed
on this mountain. We want solid theology, not the midway at the county fair. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I have literally recruited dozens of people to Liberty.
Adults who wanted to complete their degree online, and young adults going off
to college for the first time. Whenever a friend asked me about Liberty, and
should they send their kids there I always answered with a resounding “yes.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Now, for the first time, I cannot endorse my school. My
daughter will finish here because we live here but she grew frustrated with the
spiritual atmosphere and accepts that LU will never be what I told her it was
for me. She seeks God but can’t hear Him over the circus clowns and
self-absorbed “flavor of the month” guest speaker at Convo. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Liberty doesn’t need our money. They are swimming in
cash. But they need our references. They need perpetual families coming here
generation after generation. Nothing is worse for a college, especially a
Christian college, than an alumni base that has lost faith in their alma mater
and can no longer recruit for her.<br />
Liberty has come to that crossroads.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I have spoken to pastors who no longer recommend their
young people come here. And one alumnus who pastors a church and wants to get
his PhD. But as he told me, “I won’t give them any more of my money until they
fix the problems and get us back to Dr. Falwell’s Liberty.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Whoever has made the decisions about convo, and about the
Christian atmosphere at Liberty must take a good long look at the history of
this college. They must value that heritage instead of trying to rewrite it.
Take the woke liberalism and paper thin, shallow theology and toss it in the
trash. Get us back to what Liberty was. Otherwise, as Doctor Falwell said
himself on many occasions… “If we ever get away from who we were when we
started, I’d rather they burn it to the ground then let it live as something it
wasn’t supposed to be. Better a smoldering rubble than a campus that has lost its
way.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">We have lost our way.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Instead of resisting the culture like a seawall, and
growing mature, doctrinally well educated, theologically sounds adults, we have
shaped our spiritual programs (including the mandatory religious academic
training) to go with the cultural flow. Our campus spiritual life has become a
glorified campus outreach at a nearly secular college. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The alumni have spoken. They deserve to be heard. Because
this is <i>our</i> mountain too.<o:p></o:p></p><br /><p></p>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-37894897150347024482020-09-16T06:13:00.005-04:002020-09-16T10:11:47.543-04:00We're losing this Battle<p> <span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; color: windowtext; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">"Always, the most revealing thing about the church is what she thinks about God"</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; color: windowtext; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text;"> </span></p><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{37}" paraid="1028986221" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> -- A.W. Tozer</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{44}" paraid="243005551" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"></span></span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{51}" paraid="611605546" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"></span></span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{58}" paraid="394009269" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">"Adolescent Christianity is any way of understanding, experiencing, or</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{65}" paraid="659749500" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">practicing the Christian faith that conforms to the patterns of adolescence</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{72}" paraid="79983190" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">in American culture. I </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">am well aware that</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> the tangled web of beliefs, practices, and experiences that we call “adolescence” is itself a product of human cultures and changes over time. Attempts to define a universal set of</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{79}" paraid="598544873" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">traits that apply to every adolescent are always gross generalizations that</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{86}" paraid="1379879173" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">betray cultural biases. One reason </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">juvenilization</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> is so powerful and </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; 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background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">deceptively</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> difficult to manage is that adults are constantly investigating, debating, and </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; 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background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">misreading</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> the supposed “nature” of adolescents. </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Juvenilization</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> is</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{93}" paraid="185421979" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">also driven by actual changes in the lives of young people, not just adult</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; 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background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">perceptions</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">. </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">So,</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> no matter how the experience of adolescence changes,</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{107}" paraid="1825683673" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">churches will eventually conform to that new set of adolescent traits.</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{114}" paraid="302904350" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">A reliable body of social science research has </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">identified</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> some common</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{121}" paraid="840530900" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">aspects of adolescent development in American society. And though some</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{128}" paraid="353054089" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">of the traits we </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; 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background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">ascribe</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> to adolescents have changed over time, beneath these</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; 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user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">particulars lie some foundational realities that have remained </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">relatively stable</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">. Adolescents are people in a particular developmental life stage, who occupy </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">particular positions</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> in the social and economic structures of society,</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{142}" paraid="1810529542" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">and whose lives </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">provide</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> important raw materials for creating meaning in</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{149}" paraid="930142161" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">American culture. Each of these aspects of adolescence shapes the process</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></i></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{156}" paraid="920126277" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><i><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">of </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">juvenilization</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> in the church, so each deserves some explanation."</span></i><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{156}" paraid="920126277" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"><br /></span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{18672f4f-af86-4915-8ec7-2e181abe5e3f}{97}" paraid="256480238" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> The above quote is from Thomas Bergler's book "The </span><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">Juvenilization</span><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> of American</span></span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{18672f4f-af86-4915-8ec7-2e181abe5e3f}{91}" paraid="1078956786" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Christianity." In it, he lays out the case -quite </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">powerfully</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">-- that modern evangelicalism has become nothing more than an extension of high school youth groups in </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">its</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> adolescent approach to ministry and the Gospel. </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{184}" paraid="653466942" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Discussion of sin, wrong, conviction, boundaries, standards, doctrine, and even God Himself has become tainted by the influence of the youth culture and viewed only through the prism of spiritual adolescents for who the entire services are structured.</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{191}" paraid="75599723" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">God has moved from deity and awe- inspiring, all-consuming, to your best bud, incapable of demanding </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">circumspect</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> living from His worshippers. Worship itself has, in fact, become en emotionally driven, shallow exercise more akin to the squealing teenaged girls fainting at the sight of the Beatles in 1964, than Moses </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">prostrate</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> before the burning bush.</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{198}" paraid="1336828107" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">The worship music has taken on the sound and feel of </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; 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border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">sappy</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> teenaged love songs about some dreamy high school senior that the sophomore female singer has a crush on.</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{205}" paraid="874490723" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Social Justice </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">warriorism</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> has replaced St. John of the Cross and his "Long Dark Night of the Soul." Traditional orthodoxy is lost. Sneered at as some relic in an archeological dig. If it doesn't elicit emotion...it's not "anointed.</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{212}" paraid="1515132718" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">We've</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> spent the last thirty years or so, reshaping the message of </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">the</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> cross to fit itself around the culture, instead of digging in deep, reinforcing our proclamation of that gospel and influencing and reshaping the culture by the power of the cross. </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{219}" paraid="1716361282" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Paul taught us that "the preaching of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing.</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{22e04944-ee2f-4e00-81ea-202b3e7b6666}{76}" paraid="1932382932" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">But the current trend in evangelicalism is to look at the traditional gospel message as the foolishness and to try to bend it to fit the foolishness of the lost. </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{226}" paraid="1419330823" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Carl Lentz with his semi-erotic stage productions (replete with handsome youth pastor onstage in his underwear at a women's conference) and knocking back shots with Justin Bieber in an Aussie bar</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">. </span></span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{233}" paraid="1663619599" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Andy Stanley declaring the Old testament bulky, </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">cumbersome</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> and </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">unnecessary</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> excess baggage for the modern church. </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{240}" paraid="1735424667" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Stephen Furtick in his frequent displays of spiritual egomania, declaring himself a theological superman and posturing like a peacock while spitting out charismatic pablum.</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{247}" paraid="25400585" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Even </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">t</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">h</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">e</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> SBC's own J.D. </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Graeer</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> weeping over a gavel...a gavel and declaring that the SBC ought to refer to LGBTQ people by their </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">preferred</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> pronouns because </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,PD94bWwgdmVyc2lvbj0iMS4wIiBlbmNvZGluZz0iVVRGLTgiPz4KPHN2ZyB3aWR0aD0iMTBweCIgaGVpZ2h0PSIycHgiIHZpZXdCb3g9IjAgMCAxMCAyIiB2ZXJzaW9uPSIxLjEiIHhtbG5zPSJodHRwOi8vd3d3LnczLm9yZy8yMDAwL3N2ZyIgeG1sbnM6eGxpbms9Imh0dHA6Ly93d3cudzMub3JnLzE5OTkveGxpbmsiPgogICAgPCEtLSBHZW5lcmF0b3I6IFNrZXRjaCA1Ny4xICg4MzA4OCkgLSBodHRwczovL3NrZXRjaC5jb20gLS0+CiAgICA8dGl0bGU+aW5zaWdodF90ZXh0dXJlPC90aXRsZT4KICAgIDxkZXNjPkNyZWF0ZWQgd2l0aCBTa2V0Y2guPC9kZXNjPgogICAgPGcgaWQ9Imluc2lnaHRfdGV4dHVyZSIgc3Ryb2tlPSJub25lIiBzdHJva2Utd2lkdGg9IjEiIGZpbGw9Im5vbmUiIGZpbGwtcnVsZT0iZXZlbm9kZCI+CiAgICAgICAgPGcgaWQ9Ikdyb3VwLTItQ29weSI+CiAgICAgICAgICAgIDxyZWN0IGlkPSJSZWN0YW5nbGUiIHg9IjAiIHk9IjAiIHdpZHRoPSIxMCIgaGVpZ2h0PSIyIj48L3JlY3Q+CiAgICAgICAgICAgIDxwYXRoIGQ9Ik0xLDEgTDUsMSIgaWQ9IkxpbmUtNCIgc3Ryb2tlPSIjNzE2MEU4IiBzdHJva2Utd2lkdGg9IjIiIHN0cm9rZS1saW5lY2FwPSJyb3VuZCI+PC9wYXRoPgogICAgICAgIDwvZz4KICAgIDwvZz4KPC9zdmc+"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">it's</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> "welcoming." (never mind the fact that </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">it's</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> blasphemous and </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">amounts</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> to telling God that He got it wrong when he "fearfully and wonderfully made" said confused person)</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{a53440f3-608d-49ff-97b5-4e638c06dd1a}{254}" paraid="795256057" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">This current generation exists in a theological Sesame Street. Or Mr. Rodger's Neighborhood</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,PD94bWwgdmVyc2lvbj0iMS4wIiBlbmNvZGluZz0iVVRGLTgiPz4KPHN2ZyB3aWR0aD0iMTBweCIgaGVpZ2h0PSIycHgiIHZpZXdCb3g9IjAgMCAxMCAyIiB2ZXJzaW9uPSIxLjEiIHhtbG5zPSJodHRwOi8vd3d3LnczLm9yZy8yMDAwL3N2ZyIgeG1sbnM6eGxpbms9Imh0dHA6Ly93d3cudzMub3JnLzE5OTkveGxpbmsiPgogICAgPCEtLSBHZW5lcmF0b3I6IFNrZXRjaCA1Ny4xICg4MzA4OCkgLSBodHRwczovL3NrZXRjaC5jb20gLS0+CiAgICA8dGl0bGU+aW5zaWdodF90ZXh0dXJlPC90aXRsZT4KICAgIDxkZXNjPkNyZWF0ZWQgd2l0aCBTa2V0Y2guPC9kZXNjPgogICAgPGcgaWQ9Imluc2lnaHRfdGV4dHVyZSIgc3Ryb2tlPSJub25lIiBzdHJva2Utd2lkdGg9IjEiIGZpbGw9Im5vbmUiIGZpbGwtcnVsZT0iZXZlbm9kZCI+CiAgICAgICAgPGcgaWQ9Ikdyb3VwLTItQ29weSI+CiAgICAgICAgICAgIDxyZWN0IGlkPSJSZWN0YW5nbGUiIHg9IjAiIHk9IjAiIHdpZHRoPSIxMCIgaGVpZ2h0PSIyIj48L3JlY3Q+CiAgICAgICAgICAgIDxwYXRoIGQ9Ik0xLDEgTDUsMSIgaWQ9IkxpbmUtNCIgc3Ryb2tlPSIjNzE2MEU4IiBzdHJva2Utd2lkdGg9IjIiIHN0cm9rZS1saW5lY2FwPSJyb3VuZCI+PC9wYXRoPgogICAgICAgIDwvZz4KICAgIDwvZz4KPC9zdmc+"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">. </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Descriptives</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> like "warfare" "battle" "endure" "</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">circumspect</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">" "grave" or "sober" are not used in these services. </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">It's</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> all about love. God is love. God is ONLY love. At the expense of all His other Godly attributes...even His Holiness</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">. </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">He is not a consuming fire...</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">he's</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> a warm cup of cocoa. He is not Holy and terrifying (in an </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">awe-inspiring</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> way) He is really </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun SpellingErrorV2 AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">really</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> good</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">. And He </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">can't</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> be offended and all He cares about is </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">you</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">r</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> frail little heart. </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{febd084d-ce45-4eea-a8a5-7c0a2474c384}{6}" paraid="1817259467" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Where the heroes of scripture were rugged, stalwart, fierce men of prayer and conviction...this </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; 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background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">bro</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">o</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">d</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> know nothing about long nights laboring in prayer over people going to Hell. They know nothing of fasting until God moves. Crying out in burden of soul for the lost. They have never confronted sin in society, save the annual pro-life rallies, which -while necessary and of utmost urgency-- have become the low hanging fruit of the evangelical world. Kill babies? </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Of course,</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">that's</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> wrong! but confront someone over a sinful lifestyle that they claim God approves of? No.</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">.. </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">that's</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> not "loving." </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{febd084d-ce45-4eea-a8a5-7c0a2474c384}{13}" paraid="1535364793" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">When Dr. Falwell first envisioned Liberty University, he saw a place where culture would meet </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">its</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; 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border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">seawall</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">. A place that would stand out as a line in the sand like a </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">firebreak</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> cut in a forest. We would be different. Biblically, theologically different. We would cherish the gospel and the work of the Cross so deeply that we would never consider bending it to shape itself to society. </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{febd084d-ce45-4eea-a8a5-7c0a2474c384}{20}" paraid="236945161" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">The Bible says that Jesus became the cornerstone...and you would either fall on it and be broken or it will fall on you and you will be crushed. The choice was simple. Surrender to the Gospel of the Cross, or </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">ultimately be</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> judged by it and destroyed by it.</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{febd084d-ce45-4eea-a8a5-7c0a2474c384}{27}" paraid="751569247" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">We have taken the Gospel of the cross and made it a warm fuzzy emotional Hallmark Channel movie. Jesus has become Mr. Rodgers. "You are special to me" has replaced, "Don't be surprised when I tell you that you must be born again."</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">"I love you just as you are" has replaced "If anyone would follow </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">me,</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> he must take up his cross and follow me. He must die. We have removed the death</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">-</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">to</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">-</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">self requirement</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> from salvation and we have failed in doing so.</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{febd084d-ce45-4eea-a8a5-7c0a2474c384}{41}" paraid="646772046" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">Liberty University has been moving toward this </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml;base64,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"); background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">chasm</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> of liberalism since Dr. Falwell </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; 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background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom: 1px solid transparent; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">passed away</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">. And our affecting society has been weakened because of it. </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{febd084d-ce45-4eea-a8a5-7c0a2474c384}{48}" paraid="1830278261" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">O</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">u</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">r</span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> students are simply not hearing the Gospel as they once were. They have been fed this liberal neo-evangelicalism by the bucketload and it shows. </span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{febd084d-ce45-4eea-a8a5-7c0a2474c384}{55}" paraid="1946796103" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; user-select: text; vertical-align: baseline;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"> </span><span class="TextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US">If we will truly train Young Champions for Christ, then we MUST abandon this false god of society-filtered gospel and preach the Cross once again. We have fallen far. We have a lot of ground to reclaim.</span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr BCX0 SCXW165657398" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; clear: both; cursor: text; direction: ltr; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web", Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px; position: relative; user-select: text;"><p class="Paragraph SCXW165657398 BCX0" lang="EN-US" paraeid="{febd084d-ce45-4eea-a8a5-7c0a2474c384}{62}" paraid="349104120" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: transparent; 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-webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-US"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW165657398 BCX0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"></span></span><span class="EOP SCXW165657398 BCX0" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335551550":6,"335551620":6,"335559739":160,"335559740":276}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; font-family: Georgia, Georgia_EmbeddedFont, Georgia_MSFontService, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 21.85px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span></p></div>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-17127565895183352952020-09-11T00:00:00.002-04:002020-09-11T06:49:41.126-04:00Ice Berg Right Ahead! What Liberty must do to survive...<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Iceberg, Right Ahead!</span></p><h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;"> </span></h1><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a proud alumnus
of Liberty University, I write the following with a heavy heart and a worried
soul. Our beloved LU stands at a precipice, a crossroads. We've been steaming
across the Atlantic at record speed for years and suddenly, there appears an iceberg
in our path. And we are dangerously close to plowing head-on into that
disaster, after which there will be no recovery.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now there is some
background required her, before we go forward. You need to know some history
and the depth of my roots to this place. I come from a generation of LU
students who came here when it was a small Bible college in the foothills of
the Blue Ridge mountains. When the founder was debating Jesse Jackson on the
Phil Donahue Show and marching in the January cold to protest the slaughter of
babies. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jerry Falwell Sr.
was a hero to my generation. In him we saw a man who dreamed big, prayed big,
and worked hard to see those visions to their end. We came to this mountain to
feel the touch of God on our lives and we left here to start churches, or
Christian schools, or go to the mission field, or start an inner-city ministry.
<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Liberty was a bible
college then. Virtually everyone on my hall my freshman year was there to be a
pastor, or a youth pastor, or a Christian schoolteacher. We lived four to a
room that was built for two. We had to get our hair cut. We wore ties
everywhere. We held late night bible studies, just a few of us at a time in the
foyer of our dorm. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We taught Sunday
school classes for our Christian service. We took mandatory classes on
Evangelism and soul winning. We had chapel three times a week...not
"Convocation..." chapel. I hear E.V. Hill for the first time my
freshman year and I never again heard another preacher who could stir me quite
like that great man of God. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dr. Falwell
preached to us in two of the three chapel services each week. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Preached.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He didn't "chat" or "have a dialogue" he
preached. He preached doctrine. He preached tradition and orthodoxy. he was
huge on patriotism and Americanism and short on political correctness. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one ever
doubted Doc's love for sinners. And they never wondered where he stood on sin.
Not. Ever. He identified it. He refuted it. he pronounced God's judgement on
it. And he proclaimed the Gospel as the only way to defeat it. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Gospel. The real Gospel. Not the woke gospel or the
Critical race Theory Gospel, or the neo-evangelical gospel, or the millennial
gospel. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doc sided with
Jesus when he said "I am the way, the truth and the life. NO man comes to
the Father except through me!" He was unafraid to preach hard sermons
against harmful sins and call on Christians to renounce those sins and come out
and be separate, and yet to be loving as we did.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doc would have
choked on the social justice warrior gospel. He would have shown the door the
current crop of flock star pastors that lay claim to the evangelical flavor of
the week and occupy the best seller list. He would have decried their shallow
theology and their heretical doctrine. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would have
been politically incorrect. Very, decidedly politically incorrect.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He would have named them by name and confronted them with
the power and directness of Paul when he got right in Peter's face in the
Temple. He would have called them on their heresy and blistered them for their
popularity.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And for certain
they never would have set foot on Liberty's campus.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Make no mistake...Doc had his share of controversial
speakers in the day. I was here on campus as a freshman when Ted Kennedy came
to speak once. And Ollie North delivered the commencement address when one of
my best friends graduated a few years after that. But ted was not there as a
pastor or a minister. Nor was Ollie. Doc made it clear that they were not
ministers and they did not agree or align with Liberty's doctrinal positions.
(Ollie certainly did, but Ted Kennedy did not. Jerry invited him because
despite their differences politically, they had met and become friends) <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doc kept us
filled to the gills with preachers. With pastors. With men who embraced
traditional evangelicalism and were unashamed to stand firm on the doctrine
that had been handed down from out church fathers. Names like Lakin and Wemp
and Rogers, and Stanley and Smith, and Criswell...and of course the aforementioned
E.V. Hill.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is said that
the Secret service trains it's counterfeit teams not by having them handle the
counterfeits, but by having them only handle the real thing, so they know the
real thing so well, they can spot a fake before it ever hits their hands. That
was Doc's philosophy as well. We were inundated with solid, traditional,
perhaps "Old Time" preaching and teaching, so that we would feel
uncomfortable in the presence of heretics and hucksters.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We came here to
this mountain, wanting to build something that maybe resembled what Doc had
built. We walked this mountain when it was mostly undeveloped and barren. We lived
in Quonset huts and undersized dorms. I had a mobile office trailer for my
freshmen English classes my freshman year. We had lousy cafeteria food and
strict dress code guidelines. We attended church Sunday morning and again on
Sunday evening and again on Wednesday. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Church.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not some
cute-named gathering made for spiritual babies who wanted to hear glorified
bedtime stories. We heard preaching. We were challenged. We wept at altars and
prayed into the wee hours and begged God for a vision of our own to change a
piece of the world.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much has
changed at Liberty. So much. It's barely recognizable and I don’t mean
physically. It's not Liberty anymore. It's not Doc Falwell's Liberty. And if
action is not taken it will never be again.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have considered
this place my second home since I was a freshman here. I stayed atuned to what
was happening here on campus even when I wasn't a student here. I love this
place and I carry a piece of this place with me wherever I go, and I have left
a piece of my own heart here.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I came to work at LU in May of 2014. For the first two years
I worked there I felt driven by the Holy Spirit to spend my lunch hour in
prayer for my school. I would sit in the stands at Williams stadium and praye
for the campus, for the staff, for the student body. Pray for a revival. Pray
for an awakening.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I left my job at
LU in May 2019. I remain here in Lynchburg and my daughter is a Liberty
student. I love this school. I want the very best for her. I want Doc's legacy
to remian intact.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That's why I have to speak out.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Liberty is not
Doc's school right now. There is an iceberg right ahead and if we don't take
drastic emergency action...she will drive her bow straight into the apostacy
and heresy that is creeping into other Christian universities and down she will
go.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And I love her too much to let that happen.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First off, let me
say that much of the problem is not Liberty's doing directly. We can only work
with what comes here. This generation is not being raised the same as the
generations before. They do not hear the sound doctrine we did. They are not
being taught solid theology. They are not questioning what they are hearing.
They see an endless parade of millenial Flockstars in skinny jeans and fitted
T-shirts, who replace the actual Gospel with a virtue-signaling, Jesus-juking,
comic book theology that bows it's knee to every social trend and trick in
order to be "relevant" "relatable" or "woke."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This past week we
saw a BLM march on our campus in defiance of the college specifically telling
them not to assemble because of safety issues. They claimed to not be BLM, but
they held signs with BLM catchphrases, chanted the BLM words, and they knelt.
The knelt on THIS campus. On the very same mountain where the "I Love America"
rally was born, students at Liberty University knelt.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doc Falwell would
have had your bus ticket waiting for you at your dorm before you got back
there. Liberty has -under the guidance (or lack thereof) of Jerry Jr.-- fallen
into the same cesspool that the SBC is mire din, that the evangelical
megachurches swim in, and that bring shame to the name of Jesus. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We have had such luminaries as J.D. Graeer who emplored the
SBC he led as president, to embrace gender pronouns in an effort to "extend
friendship" to the LGBTQ community. never mind the fact that doing so is a
slao to the face of the very God we claim to worship, the very God who created
man and woman only, and who assigned those genders in the moment of conception
as part of His plan. When we bow our knee to the god of culture, and address a
man as a "she" because he has a head full of bad wires and doesn't
recognize the authority of the God who created him...we commit blasphemy. We
claim to know better than God.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We commit the sin of Lucifer.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Liberty has begun
down the path of Critical Race Theory and a subtle embrace of "White
Fragility" a book that creates racism out of whole cloth and thin air. Our
alma mater has begun to embrace the "woke" culture, the lies that go
hand in hand with it, and the destruction of history in the name of
"relevance." We have dipped our toes in the water of "White
Privilege" "White Guilt" and White self- loathing. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have become
what we beheld, and it is a dreadful thing indeed. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Alumni have been more vocal in the days and weeks since
Jerry Jr.'s fall and removal. I think we sense the seriousness of this moment.
Every new day reveals the fact that Jerry Jr. did NOT grasp his father's
vision. not all of it. Not the faith part. Sure, he built the physical part of
his dad's plan and did it well. But Jerry ran roughshod over the spiritual
inheritance his father left us all on this mountain and those who walked these
sacred steps while Doc was alive see this as a dividing moment. We either take
action now and avoid the iceberg and get this ship back on the course she was built
for...or we plow headlong into spiritual disaster and watch her sink.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What have the
alumni been asking for and proposing? I watched the convo comments the last few
days and I talked to fellow alumni on my own. I offered a forum on this show
and hopefully, today we will hear from them. But the ones I spoke with have
told me in no uncertain terms that they are angry. They feel betrayed. They see
the glaring danger that is being ignored and they demand changes. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the worst
thing they've said, and said this unanimously, is that for the first time in
their lifetime, they can no longer in good faith recommend Liberty to their own
children, or grandchildren or friends’ children. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've spoken to
Christian educators who regularly encouraged their graduating seniros class to
put Liberty on the top of their lists of prospective colleges, not tell me they
won't even recommend LU at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me
personally, I have worked for four years to get my daughter into LU and keep
her there. It has not been easy. but this fall, for the first time, I asked her
if she wanted to consider another Christian college. The words hung in my
throat and I blinked back tears. The thought that I would one day not want my
own child to come here to this special place has been more than I could bear.
The alumni have had enough.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is it we
want? What do we want to see? First of all, we want an end to this madness that
says we need to be like the culture around us. We never were! We never can be.
Jesus Himself warned us that the world will hate us. If the world doesn't hate us,
we are doing something wrong. We want an end to the popularity seeking. And end
to the theologically shallow, spiritually vapid flockstars like Lentz and
Stanley and Furtick, and Smith, and Graeer and McManus. We want an end to the
butt kissing of big-time showboat stage-show preachers, and we want a return to
the actual gospel that permeated this campus.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Why do we cram these frauds down the throats of our student
body endlessly? Why do we send the signal that this is what "successful"
church looks like? Why do we indulge the flesh and ignore the mind? <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why don't we
invite some little out of the way pastor who has never had more than 75 in his
church and has never made more than $40,000 a year in all his time as a pastor
and who works diligently, without a twitter account or a Youtube channel or a
facebook page? Why don't our students hear from anonymous missionaries who work
tirelessly in a foreign land for no glory and almost no pay?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When do we send the private jet for a guy who has one of his
own, put him up in the finest facilities and ply him with gifts in the name of
hospitality, and yet ignore an unknown pastor who does frontline battle every
day of his life? Whatever happened to James Chapter 2?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why has the faith-based
curriculum been reduces so drastically? How does lowering the doctrinal bar
help us attain our stated goal of training young champions? <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are failing.
And we are almost beyond the point of no return. We need the board to
reestablish the original vision of Dr. Falwell. We need to thoroughly purge the
"woke" theology, and popularity doctrines, a dn the cult of
personality that has invaded our territory. We need to develop men and women of
spiritual character again. Unafraid to speak the truth, even if the truth isn't
"woke" Popular, dressed in skinny jeans or without socks. We need an
end to posing preening and posturing and a return to holiness, truth, facts,
logic, and a bold proclamation of the Gospel. Not the social gospel...the
Jesus-butchered-on-the-cross-because-of-sin gospel. The call it a sin because
it IS a sin gospel.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We need to get
back to training young champions for Christ. Not building the fan base of a
Bono wannabe who throws back shots with Justin Beiber on a Friday and stands in
a pulpit on Sunday. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We want our kids to be Jerry's kids again.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-29955157849865687662020-09-10T06:07:00.000-04:002020-09-10T06:07:11.731-04:00Our Country's Only Hope<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">What is going on in our country?</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Since the election of Donald
Trump, and especially since the arrival of the China virus on our shores, this
country has been under an increasing attack. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">We’re attacked financially in the
form of job loss, businesses shut down, growth stunted. We’re attacked
physically in the eruption of lawlessness and chaos, under the cloak of “peaceful
protests” which are nothing more than imported riots. Cities are being burned
by people who don’t even live in those burning cities. And the mayors of those
towns are providing the matches and gasoline and blocking the fire department
from doing their jobs.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Insanity has taken over. The
answer to the incredible lawlessness and destruction? Defund the police.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The answer to the morality vacuum
is to remove the very roots of Faith that this country was built upon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It’s not only okay to riot…it’s
encouraged. But meet in a house of worship and you literally face arrest.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">We stand at a critical time in
our nation’s history where, once again, we face the very real prospect of a
civil war of some form. Come election day, November 3, 2020, we may very well
see some form of bloodshed as the tipping point is reached. I feel more and
more comfortable that President Trump will win re-election, and in doing so, we
will see a level of hatred and insanity the likes of which this country has not
seen since 1865.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">How did we get here, and how can
we <i>leave</i> here?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In my assessment as a believer in
Jesus Christ and an adherent to Christianity, we got here because we abandoned the
faith this nation was founded upon. On the surface that’s a generic, almost
trite, Christianese statement. But let’s look more closely at this.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">First…the fault lies to a large
measure, with American Christians themselves. We have become complacent and we
have compromised the core of the faith that built this country. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In decades past, when a revival
hit a town, bars were closed. Broken homes were mended. Businessmen became
better bosses. Young men surrendered to the ministry. Houses of prostitution
were shuttered. Whole communities were altered for generations to come, because
the people took God seriously. The realized they had come face to face with a <i>Holy</i>
God, and the thought gave them pause. They dare not defile what He had done in
their town. The Holy Spirit broke loose on people and they were radically
changed. Sin was exposed…and it was not tolerated.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In more recent times -maybe the
last thirty years or so—this has fallen by the wayside. The Church became a big
business and like every big business, the focus became growth and profit.
Growth was defined by quantity not quality. And so, the message was
compromised. In the name of Grace, sin became something almost non-offensive to
the new version of God they began worshipping. Where my generation (I am 57)
was raised to dread the very thought of sin and run from it…subsequent
generations were taught that sin isn’t really the bad thing we were told it
was. It’s just part of being a human after all, and how dare the Church stand
against it? We’re insensitive. We’re “graceless” or legalistic. Surely Jesus
would not care about sin…He’d only care about the sinner.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">They twisted the scriptures to
meet their twisted views, until the scriptures themselves were so unrecognizable
that they then started dismissing them altogether. The Genesis account of Creation
became a “myth” that the author used to illustrate a point. This led to “pastors”
endorsing gay marriage because after all…the Adam and Eve story was now just a
myth. “Love is love” they declared and being popular was all they cared about.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The battle was no longer against
sin…it was against anything actually<i> being</i> a sin.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Let’s be clear here…America was
not founded as a theocracy. The founders were dead set against that idea. We
were not a “Christian Nation” as some would describe us. But we were a <i>Nation
of Christians. </i>The first amendment was put in place to guarantee the
freedom of expressing and promoting the Christian faith our founders adhered
too. They did not believe in forcing adherence to Christianity, or they would
have written that into the Constitution. But they did believe that Christianity
-if protected by that Constitution and practiced properly—would govern the
nation and create a “Theocracy by proxy.” Their vision for the country was that
Christianity would be properly lived out in a way that made it irresistible and
thereby it would become -almost through Osmosis—the true governing power of our
nation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">But the church has surrendered
this. The church has grown cold and tolerant…two things that always lead to
destruction. The church needs to repent of her luke-warmness. Repent of her
carelessness. Repent of her attitude toward sin. The church needs to stop being
concerned about being popular, and start being concerned about being Holy!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Bride of Christ has become a
party girl. Instead of a solemn virgin, she has become a popularity seeking
gold digger. Seeking the love and approval of a world that only knows to hate
her. Jesus Himself said “Do not be alarmed when they hate you…they hated me first.”
(John 15:18)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">We have spent the last thirty
years trying desperately to get the world to love us and all we get is
increased hatred. Because they see through the attempt. They expected from us, boundaries
and an uncomfortable declaration of sin. Instead they got “woke” ness and weak
capitulation. And they only see it as weakness, and they hate us even more.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">If this country will survive, it
must start with a revival in the church. One that brings a clear, concise,
unwavering declaration of sin, and of God’s holiness. We must be the friend of
sinners but the absolute sworn enemy of sin. And that line must not be blurred.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Being “woke” “seeking to
understand” “extending grace” have all become nothing more than excuses for
embracing bad behavior. Yes…embracing. We moved from tolerating, to approving,
to embracing it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">We have failed.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">This nation needs a repentant,
broken, determined-to-be-holy Church to get serious about the time that remains. </span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Without this, we are already
los</span>t.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-60677380765215724562020-07-23T07:52:00.001-04:002020-09-09T06:17:04.138-04:00Would Jesus Wear a Mask?<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Would Jesus wear a mask?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've seen this question posted and answered by a baker's dozen Facebook theologians and even some pastors. One is not necessarily any more qualified than the other. Although I will say that when someone "in ministry" posts their opinion it always carries more weight to believers (or at least to some believers) because of their position and because of the confusing phenomenon that causes otherwise rationally thinking adults to surrender their own ability to think critically and to read and understand the Bible for themselves as soon as a "minister" makes a statement.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The majority I've read claim "Jesus would wear a mask!" which scares the crap out of me. Because it's not based on even ONE solid biblical reference. They pull some generic verses out of context or verses that at best, speak in generalities, and make the specific to the topic. And voila! Virtue signalling is now doctrine.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So with this in mind, here is my take on whether Jesus would wear a mask:</span></div>
<br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Would Jesus wear a mask?"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Short answer...No!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Why?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus came to bring Truth. He said "They shall know the truth and the truth shall set them free." Now I realize He was referring to Himself here. He is "The way the Truth and the Life..." But the principle is clear...Jesus WAS Truth, He valued truth, and He proclaimed that it is ONLY Truth that sets people free.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Free from what?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well logically, if Truth is what sets you free, then you are being held captive with lies. Lies are your prison and Truth is the key that unlocks your cell.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What lies was Jesus setting people free from? Well look at the times in which He spoke those words. The main religious factions, the Pharisees and the Sadducees, were not merely religious leaders, they were the LAW to Israel. Israel was an occupied Roman territory, but as was Rome's tradition, in order to keep the peace, they allowed the local system of governance to remain in place, so long as it didn't embrace revolution against Caesar. So the powerful of the day could remain in power as long as they didn't teach rebellion against Caesar and as long as they paid Caesar his due royalties. There was also a Roman decree that you had to regard Caesar as a god, but the Romans got around that with the Jews by compromising with them. As long as the Jewish leaders didn't say he WASN'T a god, the Romans would leave well enough alone. So the Jewish leaders betrayed their faith in order to preserve some scraps of power, right from the get-go.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Pharisees and Sadducees ruled the people of Israel with an iron fist and with an EVER-CHANGING LIST OF RULES AND LAWS AND REGULATIONS. (Sound familiar?) The people were obligated to blindly follow because these men claimed to speak on God's behalf and because they could put you out of the temple and ruin your life and the life of your family simply by claiming that you broke one of the thousands of micro-regulations that changed constantly. (Sound familiar?)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">They claimed to speak for God and had -over the course of several hundred years-- created an image of God that was so far from His actual person, that the people were worshipping a false god and didn't even know it.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus came into this scenario and kicked down the walls to let the sunlight in, and those in power screamed like vampires.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus refused to be fooled by their lies. Time and time again they would lie to Him or about Him, telling half-truths, convoluting facts, misquoting scriptures and declaring anyone who believed His words to be disloyal to Caesar, and the enemy of God. They even declared them "crazy" and literally called them the "spawn of Satan." (Sound familiar?)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When they tried to trick Jesus He refuted them over and over with Truth. Nothing but TRUTH. Facts. Reality. And every time they went away hating Him more. They hate Truth because Truth eliminates their control.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus told the truth about the endless regulations and changing stories and constantly evolving parameters by which your values as a Jew-in-good-standing was defined. At one point he looked at the Pharisees and Sadducees and told them they were liars from the "father of Lies" (Satan). Pretty bold words.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus saw the maelstrom of laws and ordinances and the bondage they held the people under and rejected them entirely. The Pharisees and Sadducees had taken the various fears of the people and developed an entire system of rules and regulations around them, using them to enslave their own people. Let me restate that for you...**"The Pharisees and Sadducees had taken the various fears of the people and developed an entire system of rules and regulations around them, using them to enslave their own people."** (Sound Familiar?) They did this for their own gain and for the magnanimous claim that "they were doing it for the good of the nation of Israel." (Remember when they decided to have Jesus murdered, they said "it is better that one should die than the entire house of Israel be lost") Preserving the power they still had was the first thing on their minds. (Sound Familiar?)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Their power was based on lies. Lies and manipulated half-truths. They used constantly changing regulations to keep the people off balance and make it look as if THEY were the only legit group. Jesus came specifically to overthrow this entire demonic system of manipulation.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now...having laid all this out...would Jesus wear a mask?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I say a resounding NO! Jesus would NEVER abide the kind of lying, manipulation, and psychological torture being forced on us every single day. Jesus would NEVER cede the high ground of TRUTH (which He proclaimed was the ONLY thing that would set us free) to the advancing enemy of lies, manipulations, inflated death counts, falsified test numbers, and misinformation about masks / no masks. He would flip over the tables of those who are willingly embracing this evil, devious, dangerous attitude that people who question the "facts" are bad people, bad Americans and bad Christians. He would make His whip and land His shots on the backs of those who are determined to enslave people with fear and who are determined to make this "Us versus Them, Good Versus Evil" and who see Freedom as a bad, dangerous thing. He would bellow His harshest words against those who wish to marginalize, ostracize and even destroy those who refuse to go quietly into that good night of surrender without questioning the VERY OBVIOUS inconsistencies and manipulations.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I could go on. I could list more examples from Jesus' life but I will stop here. This is wordy enough. If you haven't guessed by now, my answer -based solidly on scripture and using real, actual events from Jesus' life and His response to them-- is NO. No Jesus would not wear a mask. Jesus would speak the TRUTH.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; margin-top: 6px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(Apply this also to the current wave of SJW embracing neo-evangelicals)</span></div>
Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-35156585750576075932020-04-02T08:12:00.000-04:002020-04-02T08:36:23.955-04:00One Year Later...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The day got here almost without
me realizing it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Earlier this year I’d planned on remembering
this day with a woodworking project I’ve been designing. A bird feeder shaped
like a guitar to honor my dear friend Rick Elias. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick always loved watching the birds in
his back yard, and during the ten-month battle with a brain tumor that he
ultimately lost -or won, depending on your view of eternity—the birdfeeders in
his yard brought him great peace and comfort, and a distraction from the things
he was wrestling with. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I drew up a plan. I have some lumber ready
to use and was going to pick up the rest of what I needed and finish this. I
swear…I was going to build this thing. My goal was to build the first one and
ship it to Linda so she could put it out in the yard with all the others. But I
got busy, and then this coronavirus hit and has decimated my mortgage business,
at least temporarily.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I’m trying to keep my chin up and hold
on to hope and socially distance myself and hope for carpentry to come in while
I wait for the mortgage business to improve, and I try to juggle all those
balls while the world deals with a killer virus and I grieve the memory of my
friend.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One year ago, tonight, I was pulling into
my driveway after a day’s work. I was still at LU then and I had stopped at the
grocery store on the way home. My phone rang and it was a mutual friend of mine
and Rick’s. He told me that Rick had just passed. He said he was at the
hospital with Linda and asked me also not to say anything to anyone because
Rick’s mom was on an airplane flying in from California to say goodbye and they
didn’t want her to find out he had passed by reading it on social media
somewhere.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a rule about that sort
of thing anyway…if it’s not my immediate family, I don’t feel it’s my job to
post a notice on any social media. Besides…I was too devastated to want to face
the Facebook bombardment at the moment.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hung up with Paul and sat in my truck in
my driveway. I had only closed on this home two weeks before. I’d called Rick
that week and told him I’d bought a home again and he was thrilled. He and
Linda were there for me through six years of homelessness in Nashville the last
time the mortgage industry collapsed, and they were happy for me to have come
full circle. Linda asked for my address to send me a housewarming note, and we
hung up with the usual, “I love you brother.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spoke with Rick one more time before
April 2. Sitting in the parking lot of Kroger on a Saturday, talking about what
he thought the future held, and that they were going to enroll him in a
clinical trial of an experimental drug to try to get ahead of the tumor. The
barrage of treatments they’d tried just weren’t working and they wanted to at
least give him more time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spoke to him of a song he wrote. A song
called “Stripped. It tells the story of a man -Rick in first person—coming to a
place in life where he understands that even though he is broken and hard and
battered and cynical, and even though he knows this about himself, and even
though being stripped of all these outward deformities is painful and hard…he
also knows it is the only way to stand fully in the presence of God. “Humbled
but not betrayed” is how he put it. Rick had told me that he felt like he was
living out the lyrics of an album he’d written based on the book of Job. He
thought he was Job-esque in his abandonment by God. He’d told me that a few
days earlier, and on that particular Saturday I had called him to tell him he
was wrong. He wasn’t living out “Job,” I said “Rick…you’re living out “Stripped.”
God has you all to Himself in these final days. You can’t play anymore, you can’t
write anymore, you can’t even remember the lyrics to your songs sometimes. But
you have God. You have the Thing you were writing about all those years.” As
was Rick’s nature, he begrudgingly accepts truth. It’s my nature too and one of
the many reasons we loved each other. We were so similar. Passionate, opinionated,
a little angry, a lot cynical, and yet, under it all…deeply loving those we
loved, even when we disagreed. Rick said, “Yeah I know…” and I knew
how he meant it. He knew. He knew God was there with him and would be until his
final earthly breath. But this was not how he wanted it to go and he was worried
-he was so very worried—about Linda and the kids and his friends and all he was
leaving behind. He wanted us all to be okay. He wanted Linda to be taken care
of. He wanted his granddaughters not to be sad. And he wanted everyone he loved
to know for sure that he loved them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat there in my truck that night; the evening
of April 2, 2019 and wept. My friend was gone. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t hurting anymore. He was instantly in
the presence of Jesus, about Whom he’d written so many beautiful songs. But we
were still <i>here</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One year later and we are all still here.
I have almost dialed his phone a dozen times this past year, wanting to tell
him some funny story or just see what he’s doing. Then it hits me that he’s
gone. I listen to his music all the time and remember the times I saw him live
and the times we’d talk about the genius of Springsteen, or the b.s. of
Springsteen. He’d rail at U2 for not being original anymore. He’d talk about
what a great guitar player James Honeyman Scott was and how he’d tried to
capture that “jangly” sound on his own record. He always had funny, endearing
stories about working on “That Thing You Do!” and what a wonderful cast they
all were, and how he enjoyed teaching them how to “act like young rockers.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d talk about some famous star he’d run into
in L.A. when he drove a limo while trying to bang out a record. He talked about
the time his friend took him to meet Stevie Wonder in his studio in L.A. and
how Stevie likes to close-talk and make you a little uncomfortable. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He’d do his flawless Bill Murray
impersonation. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then he’d inevitably tell me he loved
me and I would tell him the same and we’d hang up and I’d smile and think how
blessed I was that I had been permitted a friendship with Rick Elias. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick was soft and harsh. Sacred and
profane. Fiercely loving to his friends, and yet unafraid to fire off a volley
if we disagreed. The thing with Rick was this…he wore a mask, like we all do. But
if you got the chance to see him without it, you couldn’t help but love him and
nothing he did with the mask on, would ever change how you felt about him without
it. So, you accepted the mask when he wore it, because all you really saw was
the man behind it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One year later and all I have now is the
music and the memories. It’ll have to be enough until I see him again in
Heaven.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I love you, my big brother. We’re
all down here just trying to get by. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
See you soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-76156590916384925952019-12-13T11:25:00.000-05:002019-12-13T12:24:37.333-05:00My Christmas Without Jesus<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Once each year the Christmas season
strikes both the sacred spheres of life with sledgehammer force: Suddenly Jesus
Christ is everywhere.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For approximately one month His presence
is inescapable. You may accept Him or reject Him, affirm Him or deny Him, but
you cannot ignore Him. Of course, he is proclaimed in speech, song and symbol
in all Christian churches. But He rides every red-nosed reindeer, lurks behind
every new doll. Resonates in the most desacralized “season’s greetings.”
Remotely or proximately, He is toasted in every cup of Christmas cheer. Each
sprig of holly is a hint of His holiness, each cluster of mistletoe a sign of
His love.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Brennan Manning<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
“Lion and Lamb: The
Relentless Tenderness of Jesus”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I remember reading this paragraph
many years ago when I first discovered Brennan Manning. I remember a light
going off in my heart as these words confirmed what I had always felt: that
regardless of how “commercial” Christmas had become, it was still about Jesus
and everyone knew this. That’s why I never got riled up about Santa Claus the way
my Fundamentalist Baptist friends did. I believed in the old fellow until I was
12, and still do in some ways. (Those Christmas-romantics among us know what I
mean here) <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This year, however, something is
very different for me. I’ve been re-reading Manning over the past few months
and I find myself untouched at heart by words that once moved me to tears. The truths
of love and grace he was so gifted at expressing, are meaningless to me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>I have gone numb.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I never thought I’d say that. I
never thought I’d have a bad Christmas. But here I am, Christmas 2019, having
the most non-celebratory, non-Christmassy Christmas in my fifty-six years. This
has been one of the hardest years of my life and it shows no sign of letting
up. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Christmas has always been a haven
for me. The house I grew up in was rife with discord, pettiness, arguing,
resentment, and deceit. It’s not that there was a shortage of love…it’s that
there was a love <i>vacuum.</i> Showing love in that house would get you hurt.
But somehow, Christmas provided a two-week respite from this drudgery. For
whatever reason, my mother and her husband seemed to catch the Christmas spirit
and for about two weeks there was joy and a veneer of happiness. This was
probably owed in large part to the friends and family who came to visit, and the diversion
they provided. I lived in a house where outsiders were treasured and valued far
more than the “family” who lived there year-round. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Being a Christmas lover, this was
okay by me. I didn’t care about the “how and why” of it, I just knew that for
about two weeks, the fighting would stop, the bitterness and resentment that
pervaded our days would be tucked away, and we actually looked -for that brief
period—like a family that loved each other.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I loved this season. I circled the
dates on the calendar when each of the essential Christmas specials would air.
Charlie Brown Christmas. Rudolph. The Grinch. And my favorite…Scrooge. I
watched Bing Crosby’s annual Christmas specials, not because I was necessarily
a Crosby fan at my young age, but because it was Christmas. And at Christmas,
you participated in every possible tradition you could, because…it was <i>Christmas</i>.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I could go on, but you get the
picture. Christmas, for me, was the center point of my year. Not because of the
presents -though, as a child, that is certainly among the highest motivation—but
because of the pervasive shroud of peace that Christmas brought. Maybe, I was
seeing that quote from Manning in real-time in my otherwise very unhappy home.
Maybe it was the baby in the manger, underneath it all, that caused a two-week
truce, and gave me enough oxygen to survive the other fifty weeks of the year. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
When I got older, I swore I would
create the kind of home I wanted back then. A place where love would abound and
my children would feel like, no matter what the world was throwing at them,
once they set foot inside their home, the attack ended. A place where mom and
dad where their champions. Where love was a year-round thing. Where Christmas
joy wasn’t a facade to impress the visitors…it was an outward expression of a
year-round emotion. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
That never did happen. I was
divorced before my daughter could have her second Christmas. I worked hard each
year to create the kind of Christmas I’d always wanted, even within the bounds
of a broken family. I did it well, for all those early years. When my daughter was
three and was aware enough about Christmas to really start getting into it, I
went to Hobby Lobby and bought the items to fashion a set of sleigh bells. I
kept these hidden from her, and on Christmas Eve -on the years she spent with me—I
would climb up on my roof, as she was just drifting off to sleep, and stomp
around, and shake the sleigh bells, and “Ho Ho Ho” and call out to invisible
reindeer. She never even remotely suspected that it was me. I would sneak back
into the house silently and go into her bedroom and find her squeezing her eyes
shut as tightly as she could, just to make sure Santa didn’t think she was
still awake. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We kept an Advent calendar each
year. We baked Christmas cookies together. We lit up our yard with enough lights
and decorations to land a plane in a fog bank. Christmas was, for her, a
refuge, as it had been for me. It broke my heart to see her not have Christmas
with both her parents together. I would give her anything, and yet I couldn’t
even give her this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She is twenty-one now, almost
twenty-two. She still loves Christmas as much as I do…or did. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the years went by, we engaged in the
traditions I knew growing up. She’s even made two trips to the legendary
Wanamaker’s light display in my hometown of Philadelphia, and she’s eaten “Seven
Fishes” with my cousins on Christmas Eve.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Somehow, amidst all the
disappointment and sadness of our family dynamic, and the difficulties we’ve
endured through the years, we “kept Christmas…and kept it well.” To quote
Dickens.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
But this year is different.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This year, no matter how I’ve
tried, I can’t get into Christmas. I’ve played my favorite Christmas playlist.
I’ve watched “Charlie Brown Christmas” over and over…I’ve even cried when Linus
gives his remarkable “Meaning of Christmas” speech. But something is missing
this year. Something has died.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Yesterday it occurred to me; You
simply can’t have Christmas, without God. Not really anyway. If He is really
behind every celebration and decoration -as Manning wrote—than to attempt an
authentic Christmas celebration without Him is antithetical. It’s a fool’s
errand. I should know better.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Yet here I am.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This has been a very hard year
for me. Very hard. I finally positioned myself to buy a home, twelve years
after losing my last home in the crash of “07. Two weeks after closing, my
position at LU was eliminated, and I was out of work. Two weeks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I found another job right away,
but it’s a straight-commission job and building a pipeline is difficult and it
has all but ruined me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
During this past year, I watched
one of my dearest friends lose his battle with cancer. I saw my cousin’s son
lose his battle as well. And somehow this year, I came face to face with my own
orphanage, and with the long-term effects of growing up that way and how it has
shaped me into a man I no longer recognize. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So has my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I became a Christian at the
tender age of nine. I am fifty-six. For the first time in forty-seven years, I am
doubting God. Not questioning Him…I’ve done that before. I questioned Him about
my divorce. I questioned Him about my abbreviated fatherhood, my job loss, the
abandonment by my father and mother. I questioned Him -oh how often I
questioned Him—when I was homeless. I questioned Him over the past year as my friend
Rick battled a brain tumor, and God wouldn’t even let him keep his wonderful
gift of creating music, as the battle drew to a close. I questioned Him as my
cousin lost her son before he even turned thirty. But I never doubted Him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Until lately.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I don't doubt He exists. I am certain of that. I doubt that what I thought He was like is true. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Lately, I’ve wondered if He even
cares. Not in a “I care about you” sort of way, but in a “That doesn’t really
concern me” way. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Lately I have realized that I see
Him exactly as I see -and relate to—my own father. “You’re here because of me.
I owe you nothing. Make what you can out of it. See you when you get here.” I
have stopped praying, except to pray for others. I have stopped reading the
Bible daily, something I have been in the habit of doing for these forty-seven
years. I don’t go to church anymore and don’t even want to. Church is full of
people who will give me clichés because the questions I ask are too
uncomfortable and I am viewed as some sort of reprobate for asking them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I doubt Him now. I don’t doubt
that He can “do anything.” I just doubt that He <i>will</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
More and more I am convinced that
I’m down here on my own. That the promise to “never leave you or forsake you”
is more a mechanical outcropping of the salvation experience -once you’re in
the family you never leave—than it is a spiritual, almost-physical presence by
my side. My family (my daughter and I) are struggling. Things are hard. My
dreams are forgotten now and all I think about is bailing enough water to keep
the boat from going down with one arm, while I row the boat to shore with the
other. One-armed rowing only moves you in circles. One-armed bailing isn’t
efficient enough to make headway against the inrushing seas.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I can’t remember a time in these
forty-seven years where I wasn’t concerned, almost obsessed with whether my
life was pleasing to God. Even when I was “far from Him” and not living exactly
as I ought…I was aware of Him and always made my way back in short time. I kept
short accounts with God and never liked the feeling of distance or silence
between us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
But now…it’s mechanical now. I
can never retreat into a life of sin and debauchery…my faith roots run too deep.
But the longing in my heart, the desire for something mystical, the feeling of
a “personal” relationship has faded. God has retreated to His throne room and I
am out here in the world, battling on my own. I guess what’s so scary to me
about this is that I don’t even feel bad about it. I’m not even mad at Him
for this. I was. I was angry that He would abandon me when life has taken such
a toll. But I even got over that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It’s sad to me that my
relationship with God now has simply become one of accepted distance. I can’t imagine
Him stepping in and helping me. I can’t pray to Him with even the slightest
shred of confidence that He is going to intervene. I feel like He’s just
watching, uninvolved, unaffected, unimpassioned. Just watching. Untouched by my
struggles, offering only the encouragement “to just keep trying to figure it
out.” Telling me -in a somewhat subtle manner-- that I’m on my own.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Just like my father.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
That this would all happen at
Christmas is heartbreaking. I love this time of year and for the very first
time in fifty-six years I am entirely untouched by Christmas. The tree in my
living room is just a thing. The Nativity scenes I see on display everywhere I
look, are just figurines, barely visible through this fog, and no longer
holding the sacred magic they once held.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The arrival of Jesus once moved
me so deeply that I wrote an entire Advent book about it. A book I can’t even
read this year. The movies I loved, the songs I sang, the lights and ornaments
and traditions…have all faded. I have lost connection to the child this holiday
celebrates and in doing so…the entire holiday has gone as flat as a failed souffle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
My Christmas without Jesus is drudgery.
It’s painful. It’s sad and sorrowful and…pointless.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
But I can’t change that right
now. I have only recently, maybe in the last three days or so, begun to even
have brief conversations with God. I guess that’s praying, but it isn’t very
sacred. In fact, it’s been rather profane at times. I’m not mad at Him. I don’t
hate God. I’ve simply accepted that, while He was infinitely concerned with my
eternal salvation, my physical life and the trials I face and these hard things
I’ve had to endure, simply aren’t something He involves Himself with. I don’t know
if I should be worried about the fact that I feel this way, or that it doesn’t even
bother me anymore. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Maybe it’s because I know what I’m
missing, but I feel badly for people trying to have something of a Christmas spirit
without a recognition of Christ. From my battered, jaundiced perspective,
distant as I feel, I still recognize that without that essential element, this
holiday is the most disappointing of all. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I’m a believer who no longer
believes as much as I did. I’m a follower who no longer feels like he’s being
led. My deep relationship with God has cooled. I’m a Christian at Christmas,
who has lost his connection with Christ.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This has drained all the meaning
from these days and left me drained as well. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-46289823936406000962019-08-04T09:24:00.001-04:002019-08-04T20:29:44.305-04:00Mass Shootings and who is REALLY to Blame
I'm going to try not to let this become an angry rant, but it's going to be hard. Because I AM angry.
Yesterday we had two more mass shootings. And immediately the gun grabbers went to work, ramping up their attack on American Citizens who want the Constitution upheld. (You can call them "gun nuts" NRA...whatever, but the FACT is we just want the
Constitution upheld) They keep screaming "How Long??!!"
Well I want to know the same thing. How long??! How long will you ignore the FACT that since 1991, 97% of all these mass shootings and 100% of school shootings occurred in "Gun Free Zones?" This is fact. Since 1991, school shootings increased 92%.
What happened in 1991? The Gun Free Zone act was expanded to include schools.
Odd that shootings would increase so dramatically AFTER a law was passed making guns on school campuses illegal. Or is it? Your "Gun Free Zone" sign is really a "Nobody here can protect themselves" sign. You literally told the killers where to go for maximum result. How long before you admit that evil people will NEVER obey laws and they will ALWAYS find a way to carry out their evil plan? They'll build bombs out of household items. They'll drive a truck across a crowded sidewalk (These things have already happened) they'll hijack airplanes with box cutters. Evil is NEVER going to end until Jesus returns and puts an end to it forever. HOW LONG will YOU put your fellow citizens at risk by forbidding them from defending themselves? It's not the fault of the gun rights advocates. It's YOUR fault, if you support these frivolous gun bans and gun free zones. You want to sue gun manufacturers for the evil someone does using a gun? How about you sue shopping malls and local governments who create soft targets perfect for mass shootings, by outlawing guns in malls, and public buildings, and schools? You want to see some better gun laws? Start holding people accountable for NOT allowing people to protect themselves. If you want to eliminate guns, this is YOUR fault. There has always, and will always be, evil in this world. The first murder was committed with a rock or a log when Cain struck down his brother Abel...over nothing but petty jealousy. The Manson killings were predominantly done by stabbing. (Only one of the nine actually died by gunshot) The Boston Strangler never used a gun. Ted Bundy never shot any victims. You don't have to carry but STOP TRYING TO PREVENT ME FROM DOING SO! I want to go to a mall or a school or a public building and know I have at least a fighting chance. And do you know what the residual effect of this would be? The virtual elimination of mass shootings! How? Because one of two things would happen: 1: A shooter would decide not to attempt a shooting because now, there are guns allowed where they used to be banned. He doesn't know who has one or where, but he knows they aren't banned anymore so he decides against it OR 2: He tries it anyway and instead of killing 10 or 20 or more, he "only" (I say that tongue in cheek, even 1 is unacceptable) kills one or two before someone with a gun engages him and ends the slaughter. And don't give me this garbage about "I don't want my kids to grow up with armed people walking around..." Couple of points on that: First, Google the word "Concealed" that's the first word in "Concealed Carry Permit" I support open carry, however, I also understand that seeing a guy walking around with a sidearm and he's not in uniform, is unsettling. I don't need to puff my chest out in that manner. I likely won't ever open carry. But that should be my choice. Second, there was a time, not long ago, in this country, where guns were not an object of fear. They were objects of respect and caution, but not fear. Maybe you should take your kids to a range and show them what a gun is capable of WHEN SOMEONE IS USING IT and stop this "guns are inherently evil" nonsense. Stop fighting the solution just because you personally refuse to educate yourself on the truth, or are unwilling to accept the truth, and want to force your will on everyone else. People are dying for lack of shooting back. PERIOD! Stop fueling the problem!
Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-82155952259729603702019-07-20T09:16:00.001-04:002019-07-20T10:34:36.974-04:00"The Eagle has Landed:" Remembering a Little Boy and a Mission to the MoonI was almost 6. It was hot. It always is in July, back in the Delaware Valley. I was just a little boy then. In a lot of ways, no different from little boys today the summer of their 6th birthday. But in many ways...very different. We were at war. We've been in wars since then, but this war was different. <br />Vietnam wasn't popular (not that any war is actually "popular" but at least other wars had a clearer provocation and popular opinion was mostly favorable) and instead of the news talking about victories, they talked only of our men being killed every day. <br />My mother and stepfather knew guys who were over there fighting. I remember them talking about going to the funerals of several of them. My father had served two tours over there and had been injured twice. But at five, I didn't know him and had only met him when I was a toddler and never remembered the visits. <br />My stepfather and I weren't close. That's me being kind. We didn't do the things little boys like doing with their dads, so I spent a lot of time imagining. I imagined I was a baseball player. I imagined I was a robot. I imagined I was an "army man" (by this time I'd gotten my first GIJoe.) <br />...and I imagined I was an astronaut. <br />To be a little boy in the 60's was to be surrounded by, and inundated with the Space Race and the dreams of landing on the moon. I could tell you my favorite baseball players, and I could tell you about the "Mercury 7" and the Apollo teams. I knew what a Saturn V was before I knew what Saturn itself was. I begged my mom for "Tang" because it had been developed for the astronauts. <br />I'd watched all the previous launches. Dry runs...practice for the real thing. Each mission taking measured, progressive steps closer and closer to the ultimate goal...the Moon. <br />I'd look up at the moon when I was a boy and wonder what it was like up there. On summer nights, when the moon was full, I'd swear I saw that cartoon image of Jackie Gleason, the famous closing credits shot from "The Honeymooners." <br />I had a GIJoe space man set, with a real capsule that Joe sat in, and the control panel glowed in the dark. I flew a million imaginary lunar missions with Joe and his space capsule.I launched water rockets that we'd bought at the department store, where you filled the body with water, pumped the handle to build air pressure against the water, then pulled the trigger and watched it lift off. Rockets and space were everywhere, and they were everything. <br />Apollo 11 had a different feel when it launched. I'd watched all the previous launches and they were special, but when this one left the pad that July morning, it was different. This was "the one." four days later we were sitting in front of our little Sears TV set, rabbit ears covered in tin foil, watching shadows and images that we could barely discern, become the lunar module...inching it's way down to the moon's dusty surface. Then, after a few moments of silence, came Neil Armstrong's first famous utterance: "Houston...Tranquility base here, The Eagle has landed." <br />Tranquility base was the name of their landing spot and base of operations. "Eagle" was the name they'd given the Lunar Module. Three long hours of waiting ensued. My mom let me stay up to see this historic moment. At 11:23pm, the grainy, shadowy images (the picture we were seeing was actually a broadcast quality relay of what the camera on the Lunar Module was filming. So we were watching a second generation...like someone doing a live feed on their cell phone from a movie theater so you can watch the movie...only the technology was so primitive back then that the images looked grainy and ghostlike.) <br />I watched in awe as Neil Armstrong navigated the steps in his bulky space suit and then spoke those amazing words. "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." <br />I couldn't say a word. I don't remember breathing. Those words...that picture was a defining moment in my life. The history of the world broke in two on July 20, 1969...everything would be different after this day. Truly anything was possible. <br />For a few hours, we forgot about the war, we forgot about the unrest at home, we forgot about the civil rights battles still being fought. <br />We were all fiercely proud to be Americans. We were amazed at the effort it took. The cost of human life (Three astronauts had perished in a flash fire in the cabin of Apollo 1, Gus Grissom, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee) the brilliance of the scientists and engineers, all combined to get us to this moment. <br />To be an almost-six-year-old little boy that sweltering July night in 1969 was to live in the most fertile soil of imagination there ever was. This was my generation's "Star Wars" and "Star Trek." In hindsight -and I've never thought about this until writing this just now-- maybe that's why I just never got very deeply into either of those franchises. I enjoyed them both. I have no problem with people really being superfans or whatever. But for me...My Han Solo was Buzz Aldrin. My Luke Skywalker was Neil Armstrong. Men like John Glenn and Gordon Cooper were in their prime when I was a little boy...no movie character could ever hold a candle to these real-life sci-fi heroes. <br />Thinking about this right now...thinking how fifty years has come and gone since that steamy July night. It makes me glad. Glad that I will have these memories to cherish and that I was alive when this was happening in real time, not just learning of it from a Google search. <br />And it makes me sad. Sad because it's been far too long since we've had a national dream. A national goal. A national cause that forced us to break the boundaries of what we know, and learn something altogether unknown. <br />To take a theory on a chalkboard and turn it into two men bouncing across the surface of a celestial body other than the one we live on, and send the images of that back to us down here, where we could all sit in our living rooms and stare in wide eyed wonder. And...in spite of the war being fought, and the unrest in our nation, and the injustice our fellow citizens were fighting against, we could dream our own dreams. We could pick our own moon mission and dream about going after it. <br />For a while, we were united. We were one nation under God, and we'd just sent two of our own to that light in the night. I wish we could go back. I know people think it's a waste of money and effort. I am certain you only think that because you weren't around when we did this 50 years ago. <br />I could rattle off the list of things we use every day that came about as a result of this era; from cell phones to velcro and everything in between. But beyond that. Beyond any tangible benefits, stand the intangibles. The national benefit of just watching our best and brightest do something unheard of, something we thought was insane just ten years before...and make it look easy. <br />Every time I looked up at the moon before that night, I wondered about it. It was romantic and foreign. <br />Every night after that hot July night...I think about how we sent men up there. Men. Americans. Giant, heroic, legendary, daring, brave men. <br /><br />Americans. <br /><br />That mission was everything America is. Bold. Gutsy. Refusing to accept less than excellence. Imaginative. <br />Exceptional. <br />I wish we'd go back. <br />And I wish I could capture just an ounce of the spirit that filled that little boy's heart on that sweltering July night, when he believed -for a while at least-- that anything was possible.Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-80898895864267445482019-06-05T20:28:00.000-04:002019-06-05T20:28:40.183-04:00C-Day: What was it like the night before?<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tomorrow is the 75th anniversary of "Operation Overlord" commonly known as "D-Day."</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">Bedford Va. is home to the National D-Day Memorial and tomorrow a huge gala is planned including a flyover of every plane used in that incredible operation. This week I've been seeing some of them in the skies overhead, I guess practicing for the big events tomorrow.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
All this week on the news they have been discussing it. Today, I got pretty emotional thinking about it. Thinking about what June 5th 1944 must have felt like for those guys. Most of them were around 19 years old. They were still kids. I remember when I was 19 and all I wanted to do was cruise Newark De in my Chevelle and hang with my buddies and go to work each day. I never went to sleep, knowing that the following morning there was a nine in ten chance I would die.</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
How could they sleep that night, knowing that in the morning, they faced insurmountable odds? What kind of letters home did they write? What kind of prayers were prayed? What did it feel like to hear the roar of the machine gun fire and the clank of the rounds hitting the drop gate of the Higgins boat and pretty much assume you were going to die? What was it like stepping over your dead comrades as you dove into the water and made for shore, wondering when the bullet with your name on it was coming? What sort of madness did they see? The sound of gunfire, the explosion of ordnance and shrieks of the wounded. These were just boys. Just out of high school and in many cases having quit school and lied about their age to join. </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
I just can't get the thoughts out of my head. The incredible bravery in the face of unspeakable horror. The desire to defeat evil. A desire so strong that you'd charge into the butchery of Omaha, or Utah, or Gold, or Juno, or Sword. </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
The only person I ever saw die was my grandmother at 93. It was amazing and beautiful as she literally reached out to Jesus as He came to take her. (It's an amazing story I will share one day) I can't fathom seeing my friend, or my brother die suddenly and violently beside me. And having to stuff that horror down inside me and press on. </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
Years ago, in Nashville, I met a man who was 82nd Airborne on that day. He was climbing up the rope ladders they shot up the cliffs at Normandy. Climbing to reach the gunnery nests at the top. He told me that about every 30 seconds, another of his comrades would fall from above him and he'd have to spin himself around and get on the inside of those rope ladders and press himself against the cliff to avoid being hit by the body. Sometimes they were dead already and sometimes they were screaming as they fell. He had to swallow all that and get right back to climbing.</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
They did all this because there was an undeniable evil at work in the world, and the time had come to put it down. At this point, nobody knew about the prison camps and the ovens and the "Final Solution." That horror was still to be discovered. This mission was about stopping Hitler.</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
These men ran face-first into hell and punched death in the mouth because it was right, and doing what was right demanded their very lives. 9 out of 10 of the first wave never made it off the beach.</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
Nine out of Ten.</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
For me, and for my generation, this is some of what the flag represents. It's why you stand and respect it. America is not perfect. It was probably even less perfect on June 6, 1944. But they didn't fight for a perfect country. They fought for THIS one. They fought for what was right and they did it under that flag. </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
Tomorrow is the 75th anniversary. 25 years from now, when we memorialize this day again, there won't be one single survivor in attendance to tell us stories of the horror, the battle, or then sense of right that made them rush out the door of those landing craft. They will all have joined their fallen comrades and become ghosts on the beachfront, and names on marble headstones in places like Arlington and Point du Hoc, and Normandy. I have wiped tears from my eyes at various points this week and I've choked back this lump in my throat more times than I can count. </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
In another few years none of them will be left to thank. None of them will be around to tell the stories and remember the guy in the boat next to him. </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
That's why we stand for the flag and the anthem...because we owe those guys and all the other guys like them from every war we've ever fought. Because if they'd die for the sake of that flag, the least I can do is stand for it.</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
And if they'd run out of a boat into a hail of gunfire for the sake of what is right...I have no excuses for not defending what is right in the safety and comfort of this country.</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
If you have a relative who fought in WWII (or any war,) please...tell them I send my eternal gratitude and love. </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
God Bless the 4400 who died that day</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
and God Bless America.</div>
</span></span>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-75919698523944232102019-04-23T06:59:00.001-04:002019-04-23T10:18:08.226-04:00Rick Elias...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It has been 21 days.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three weeks exactly to the day. Three
weeks, and this is the first time I’ve considered writing about it. I’ve talked
about it a bit. I’ve lamented it. But it’s remained buried beneath a hardened
carapace of denial, grief, and sorrow. This empty, vacuous hole. This
invisible, heavy weight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
My friend Rick is gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three weeks ago, today -April 2, 2019— my friend
Rick Elias opened his eyes to see Jesus at last. The journey was hard, and
wearisome, and difficult. He fought bravely. He fought the monster of
glioblastoma that hid itself in his brain…and he fought the monsters who keep
it company; fear, doubt, sadness, regret, sorrow…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have wondered why this has not broken me
more than it has. I wondered if it’s because, from the moment he called me last
August, to tell me of the diagnosis and the terrible prognosis, I knew this was
going to be the outcome. So far, the score is Glioblastoma 1- humanity 0 for
all of history. Nobody survives this one. I knew this last August. I wept at my
desk after I got off the phone with him. I went home that afternoon and
listened to his music and wept some more. I wept a lot in the early days and
months. I have wondered if I grieved it so much before it happened that I was a
little numb to it after he left us. Maybe. I don’t know.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this morning, sitting at my desk
getting ready to pray and then go to my work day, it hit me again, and I
finally wanted to write about it. Rick once told me, and told others quite
often, that writing -for him—was like prayer. Something internal took place
when Rick began writing a song and it was sacred. I understand it now that I
write. This is the gift God implanted in my soul when He knit me in the womb
and when I do this thing I am treading on sacred ground. Preachers must feel
this when they stand in the pulpit. Doctors must feel this when they are in
surgery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Rick felt it when he gave us
incredible songs. Incredible, honest, transparent, catchy, memorable, enjoyable
songs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve always listened to great music and
wondered, sometimes, at what I was hearing. I always listened to them and
thought how this was what was living in someone’s soul for days or months or
years and this is what came out. I’ve listened to Springsteen’s “Born to Run”
album and marveled how all sound lived in the heart and mind of a 25-year-old
young man from New Jersey. I've had tears in my eyes at the beauty of some of Little Steven Van Zandt's music (especially with Southside Johnny) and been amazed that all those sounds came out of one man's heart. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve listened to John Hiatt and been
amazed that a seemingly simple guy could hold such beauty in his heart and
manage to get it out on paper. I’ve sat slack-jawed at Stevie Ray Vaughan and
realized all that amazing music had been swimming around in the heart of a
sometimes-tormented little kid from the poor side of Dallas who couldn’t even
read music. Yet he managed to make some of the best music this world has ever
heard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The same things would happen when I would
listen to Rick’s music. And maybe it’s because I knew him well and called him
friend, or maybe it’s that his style was exactly what I loved in music and it
grabbed me so tightly from the very first note I ever heard. Or maybe it’s both
of those things coupled with the fact that this was a large, remarkable person
who left such a giant void in this world that most of his friends remain
speechless still, three weeks after his leaving us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things lived in Rick’s heart that spoke so
clearly and so loudly that I wondered how he contained them. Rick wrestled with
religion, but he loved Jesus deeply. One can’t write a song like “Man of No
Reputation” and not love Jesus deeply and be well-acquainted with who He was.
Rick could rail at a theological point he disagreed with, with the force of a
hurricane and the venom of a cobra. And then sing about the Jesus he trusted in
with a passion and honesty that goes missing these days, among the current
crop of CCM “stars.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick was far from perfect. But Rick never
lied about his imperfections. His friend and band-mate Mark Robertson said it
so perfectly; “Rick was just like you and me…only way more.” And he was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he was happy, your sides would hurt
with laughter. When he was cynical and sarcastic, you would laugh until you had
tears in your eyes, so long as sarcasm and cynicism were your cup of tea. When
he was angry…God help anyone on the wrong side of that topic. But when you were
his friend, you were his family and he never stayed mad for long. Not if he
really loved you. And thankfully…Rick Elias loved me. Our last eight months of
conversations were peppered with “Thank you’s” and “I love you brother’s” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We spent time trying to laugh at as much
of this final act as we could, all the while knowing that both of us had read
the last scene and knew how this was going to end. Once in a while, Rick would
break down a little. He was worried about his wife Linda. His kids. His granddaughters.
His friends. He was worried about what they were thinking and feeling and
whether they would be okay after he was gone. He didn’t have any concrete
answers about those things and that troubled him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe his biggest frustration, outside of
his family and their comfort with this, was his entire inability to play anymore.
Rick was a musician. He <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">a musician</i>. This was his life. This was
his heart and his soul and his best ability to communicate all that his giant,
mysterious heart contained. The location of the tumor made communication a chore.
Words were forming in his head as rapidly as they always had but there was a
disconnect between the mind and the mouth. He would stumble to say what he was wanting
to say, or he’d forget what he wanted to say or which word he wanted to use,
and the frustration would eat at him. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early on in this diagnosis he had fallen
and broken his middle finger on his left hand. It was so bad that they were
talking of amputating it, but they managed to keep it. But it was frozen in a
three-quarters-extended position, unable to bend, like Rick was giving the
finger to the world for the rest of his days. If you knew Rick Elias…this was
perfect.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aside from being grotesque and comical at
once, it was heartbreaking. Because the frozen middle finger prevented Rick
from playing guitar anymore and this broke his heart. The last lengthy
conversation we’d had, back in March, was about this. He said he felt like Job.
Like God had stripped him of the very thing he had identified himself with for
his entire life. He couldn’t play. He couldn’t write. He couldn’t even remember
the words to all those songs he’d written.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
All those songs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
All those wonderful, amazing,
incredible songs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few days after that conversation, I
called him and told him briefly; “Man I don’t think you’re living “Job” (Rick
had written an album based on his readings of the Book of Job and had, at one
point, told me he felt like now God was making him live out the lyrics) I said “You’re
living out “Stripped.” Stripped was the last song on his first album. A song
about a man who stands before God, broken and humbled by his seeming continuous
failings and faults, and yet who finds out that being stripped of all the
pretense of correct Christian living and standing “naked, humbled, but not
betrayed” was actually where the freedom was found. It’s where the love of God
was most clearly pronounced. I told him that I felt like God had permitted the
loss of his music for the final months of his life, because He’d wanted these
months to Himself. Just Him and Rick. Getting things right, getting things out
in the open…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
…coming home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the end, I think that is what was
happening. Rick was coming home. He limped his way back to the front door, his
armor dented and a bit rusty, his battle gear broken and held together with
bailing wire and duct tape, but with some amazing stories from the field, and
the contented look of a warrior who had enough of battle and was laying down
his weapons to sit by the fire for a few last days. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick Elias is gone. And the hole he left
in my heart is so big, so deep, so uncharted, that I might never -this side of
Heaven—understand how big it really is. I know it’s big enough that it hurts
this much. I know it’s big enough that it will never be covered over, not with
all the hallowed ground of his music or the memories, or the pictures in my
heart. I’m only now beginning to feel the depth of this loss and I fear that
there will be days when I descend a little too deep and the weight will crush
me, and the tears will flow like a river.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I miss you, dearest friend. I miss the
laughter and the anger. The sacred and the profane. The way we could be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so</i> mad at each other about something so
inconsequential, and then laugh about how stupid it was that something so
innocuous came between us, and all would be right again. I miss the incredibly
intelligent commentary on life, that you brought. Even if I disagreed sometimes,
it was still incredibly thought-out, incredibly spoken, and incredibly funny. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I miss the songs. I miss the stories. I miss
the big softy that lived inside that cave-man that you showed the world. I miss
your love for Linda and for your kids and for those granddaughters, and for
your friends.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m building some birdhouses in my basement,
because I know you loved them. I needed something besides music to remember you
by and to honor you with. I decided it’ll be bird houses. And a fire pit. And
love for my friends. And love for Jesus. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
…and your music.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I love you brother</i>…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We’ll see you soon<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p>**Rick's battle left some large medical expenses. PLEASE consider helping the family by donating here:</div>
<br />
<a href="https://www.gofundme.com/rick-elias-medical-expenses?fbclid=IwAR1D6O49Dn-nHhwHqtQM92KU7joVUi_3YPUevur7sICp3VxU383k9oFI8JE" target="_blank">Rick's Medical Fund</a>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-62962683918140530742018-10-21T21:31:00.000-04:002018-10-22T08:00:59.093-04:00Beth Moore and her "Sorry" drummer<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Dear Beth,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve kicked this around for over a week
now. I thought maybe I just didn’t care about you, or your BS ramblings and
misandry enough to respond to your kneeling-drummer trick. But I thought about
it and decided I needed to vent. Men are under attack these days and sadly, you’re
leading the charge.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll spare you a lot of bible verses about
men and women and the way God ordained the relationship between the two. I mean
it’s not like you care very much what the Bible says about that stuff. You’ve
picked and chosen what to obey and what to ignore and made quite a cottage
industry out of it. You’ve made a boatload of money for yourself and for
Lifeway, which is -as we all know—what really counts. You must be “anointed”
otherwise your materials wouldn’t sell like they do. In the evangelical world,
we know that pastors with big churches and authors with big sales numbers
achieve these things only because God blesses them. It’s a sign of His hand
upon them, right?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s skip all that and talk about that
emasculated drummer of yours, and this rampant man-hate thing you have going
on. That and the “But Ricky…I’m a victim tooooo! Waaahhhhh!” that you’ve
served up as a narrative for the last three years or so.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I heard that your drummer – an alleged
male of the species—dropped to his knees and “apologized on behalf of all men…”
I vacillated between wanting to vomit and wanting to find that little candy-xxx
and punch him in the throat. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">All</i> men don’t
owe women an apology, princess, and it’s best you realize that and stop milking
this school of thought to sell more books.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me tell you about one such man.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This guy was deeply in love with
his wife. They were married three years. Almost to the day. She divorced him,
not because he abused her, not because he had affairs or didn’t go to church or
didn’t show her enough attention. He adored her. He set aside every dream he
ever had, (except, of course, the dreams of a wife and family and a home and a
fiftieth wedding anniversary) and he devoted himself to making her dreams come
true. And if it meant that none of his did, then he was okay with that, so long
as her’s did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
But she got better offers from
wealthy doctors and eventually she left with the highest bidder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This guy was devastated. They had an eighteen-month-old
daughter who he absolutely adored. He was a devoted father. His daily life that
once revolved around his little princess was reduced to once a week and every
other weekend. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without his family he was lost. He roamed
his house like a ghost. He would wake up many nights in the fetal position on
the living room floor, with his fingertips bleeding, because he’d fallen asleep
there, after sobbing for hours and clutching the carpet fibers so tightly that
they cut into his fingertips. He sat alone in church every Sunday, feeling as
if everyone was staring at him and yet not even seeing him. There were support
groups for the women going through divorces, but not for the men. He was relegated
to the shadows. He wore his sorrow like a trench coat. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He endured almost yearly court
battles because his wife, who remarried after a few years and was making plenty
of money, would take him to court for increased child support if he showed even
the slightest hint of success. The judge who heard each case, was herself, a
five-time divorcee. Five times. Yet nobody dared question her objectivity. They
didn’t dare. She ran her courtroom like a dictator and jailed any man who dared
speak up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were no books in Lifeway to help him
find his way across this lonely sea. None. Not one. Nobody in Christian
publishing cared about his plight, because men don’t buy books the way women
do, and even though there is a screaming need…a dollar is a dollar. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His ex-wife’s new husband was a drug-addled
monster. He attacked their daughter in vicious, cruel ways. He killed one of her
pets. He destroyed her property. He tried everything he could think of to come
between my friend and his daughter. Yet my friend endured, because he loved his
daughter and because that’s what good dads do. His ex-wife sided with her new
husband, even to the point of siding against her own daughter. My friend lost
his job in 2008 when the market collapsed. He tried to find work but could not.
He could not move to a city where employment was better because his daughter
was at risk. So, he stayed, even though that meant living in his car. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By 45 years of age he was homeless. He
shivered in the winter and sweltered in the summer. Six years of this could not
dim his love for his daughter, or his fierce determination to remain in her
life. He protected her from the deepening horrors at her mom’s house as best he
could. Finally, when his little girl could not take it anymore, and her mom
finally saw things for what they were, she let him take their child and move to
another state.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s been a single dad for almost five
years now. He has lost many a night’s sleep over the pain his little girl has
been suffering. He thought he was going to lose her about two years ago. He has
shelved all his own dreams and accepted a job that pays not nearly enough, but
it provides her college tuition and so he endures every day and works a side
job in virtually every spare hour, just to make sure she has enough.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He does this willingly, because that’s
what good men, good dads, do. It was nine years before his ex-wife would even
admit to her sins that led to their marriage dissolving. He held no grudge. He
speaks no ill of her to their daughter, even though there is ill to speak if he
wanted to. He chooses to show her respect. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the twenty years since they divorced, he
has never had a woman over to his house. Never dated seriously. He chose to
remain single because he knew his daughter needed to know that at least one of
her parents was going to put her first. He did it because he was afraid a woman
would not understand his devotion to his child. Most of them did not.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has never left his daughter home while
he spent the night with a woman. Even though she is almost 21 and could
certainly stay home alone. He has never allowed another woman to intrude on his
ex-wife’s sacred motherhood. (Even though for so many years she did not return
this courtesy.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This man has always treated women with
respect. He did this for his daughter. He did this because he is a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">man</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By now, Beth, you’ve likely guessed that
this man is me. I endured homelessness. I sobbed many nights on my living room
floor because my heart was shattered. I sat alone in church every Sunday,
because nobody knows how to reach a man in the midst of a divorce…and they don’t
care. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If anyone wanted to play the victim card,
I certainly could. If anyone wanted to develop a severe case of woman-hate, I
could have. Maybe even <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">should</i> have.
But I did not. I behaved like a grown-up and refused to affix blame to all
woman. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
In view of this, where your
beta-male drummer and his embarrassing “apology for all men” is concerned…count
me out. I don’t owe you any apology. I don’t owe you sXXX! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
You’ve grown amazingly wealthy
playing this victim card of yours and writing book after book teaching other
women how victimized they really are too. You’ve developed your own army of
brittle, bitter Bettys who refuse to drop their claim of victimization and
relinquish their man-hate. To do so would require them to grow the hell up and
God knows we can’t have that. God knows we can’t put that stuff behind us,
because we might actually be forced to be responsible for our actions…you know,
like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">big people</i>. Then who would you
sell books to? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your drummer owes <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">me</i> an apology. He doesn’t speak for me and to lump me in with abusive
men…to lump <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">any</i> other men in with
abusers, is an outrage. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Until you address the sins of
woman with the same outrage and venom that you do the alleged sins of men, you
have no validity. None.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your drummer was wrong. And whatever “fell
on you” at that meeting was not the Holy Spirit. The truth is that women wound
men at least as much as men wound women. To say otherwise is to lie. To
perpetuate your man-hate issues and teach them to another generation is a sin. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Where’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my</i> apology?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-44566296587785042162018-09-11T09:04:00.001-04:002023-09-11T13:35:55.475-04:00I Still Cry. 9/11--seventeen years later<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seventeen years ago, I was sitting in my
office in Franklin, TN. I was a single dad, two years into a painful divorce.
My office had become my refuge on those days when my daughter was not with me.
I spent a lot of time there, waiting for the next Thursday visit, or “My
weekend” in the every-other-weekend carousel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s where I was on September 11, 2001.
My morning routine was to get up at 5:30, go to the gym, and then be at my desk
at 8:15. I had forty-five minutes to prepare my day, review the current files,
and my sales plan, and be ready for 9 a.m. when the underwriters began their
day, and the banks opened, and I discovered which fires needed to be put out,
and which ones needed to be lit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was watching the headlines on my
computer when the first plane hit the tower. That’s all they said at first…that
a plane had hit the tower. Nobody said whether it was a commercial jet, or a
Piper Cub. Being a history buff, I instantly recalled that a B-25 had hit the
Empire State Building in 1945, so there was a precedent for this being an
accident. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">But it wasn’t</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While they were still trying to sort out
the details and figure out what happened in the first crash, another plane hit
the other tower. This time I saw it in real time. We all did. There was no
mistaking it. The stress load on the wings as the demonic hijacker veered the
craft into the building at high speed was ominous. This was no mistake. This
was hitting a target.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before I could blink, my phone rang. It
was a friend of mine in town who immediately said, “Jesus…we’re under attack.”
I’d already thought the same thing but couldn’t put it into a sentence. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">We’re under attack</i>. Once I’d accepted
this, I knew who it was who’d done it. They’d already tried this eight years
earlier, and these particular devils aren’t the kind to give up easily. They
are pure evil. You hear that term a lot…”pure evil,” but you don’t see it as
often. Manson was pure evil. Hitler was pure evil. The Muslim attackers on 9/11
were pure evil. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat there at my desk, in a trance. “The
people,” I thought, “All those people.” I thought of the people in the
buildings. I thought of the people on the planes. How horrifying were their
final moments? How much pain did they feel? What about their children? Their
families? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called my ex-wife and talked to her
about what we were going to do about our daughter. She is a nurse and worked at
a hospital at the time. She told me they were already on lockdown, that there
had been rumors of threats in Nashville as well. I told her I would sit tight
for another thirty minutes to see what was happening and then if I needed to, I’d
go get Daisy at the day-care. She agreed and we hung up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My attention turned back to the screen. I
sat there in tears, watching two iconic buildings burn. I prayed for my
country, through those tears. I prayed for the victims and their families. Then
the horror got even worse. At first I thought they were pieces of the building
falling to the ground. Then it became clearer, and the commentators confirmed
it: those were people. People jumping from the windows of their offices,
because they would rather fall to their death than burn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember rocking back and forth in my
chair, sobbing now. Thinking about someone’s daddy, making that terrible
choice, maybe calling to say goodbye first, and then leaping to their death. Or
someone’s mom. Or someone’s fiancé, or son, or daughter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was hitting me full force now. These
were my family. By right of their citizenship in the US and further…by their
very <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">humanity</i>. Those were my brothers
and sisters, hurtling to their death, because to not do so was to suffer an
even more gruesome end. Twenty minutes later, the scene exploded into a
nightmarish, twisted, surreal vision of ash, and glass, and molten steel, and
fluttering papers, raining down on white-faced survivors fleeing for their
lives, and brave first responders, running the other way, into the danger, to
do what they do willingly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first tower collapsed in
forever-slow-motion. I can still see it in my mind. I’ll never stop seeing it
in my mind. Never. I can feel the temperature of the office I sat in, the
warmth of the sun on that picture perfect morning, flooding my office with a
light that suddenly didn’t seem to be appropriate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no chance now. No chance for
survival for the thousands in that building. I knew it as I watched. And I
sobbed again. “What are they doing to my beloved country?” I thought. “Is this
happening anywhere else? Are we safe here in the South?” By the time news broke
of Flight 93 missing in Pennsylvania, and the plane hitting the Pentagon, I’d
already decided to go get my daughter. “Maybe they’ll target daycare centers” I
thought. “These people are animals, really. They want to inflict maximum pain.
What would be more painful than attacking children?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was already in my car and on my way to
my daughter’s daycare when the second tower fell. I heard it on the radio. I
could barely see to drive, for the tears. I called Daisy’s mom on my way across
town and told her I’d have her with me, and we’ll coordinate later. Again she
agreed. She was scared. The hospital was a rumor mill and she’d heard them all.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called my family to check in. Everybody
was okay. All accounted for. I turned into my daughter’s daycare and saw the
line of cars. I parked in the lot and walked to the front doors. I punched in
the special code and walked in the lobby. The same fear and anger and sorrow I
was feeling was on every face. The moms and dads who, like me, had decided that
the best place for their kids was with them, protected and safe, all had the
same look in our eyes. “What in Hell was happening?” That wasn’t a figurative
or a colloquialism. It was what we really felt. Only Hell itself could have
cooked up a plan like this. Were they done? Was there more? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walked toward the big room where the 3
and 4 year old kids played together. My little girl was three-and-a-half at the
time. The apple of my eye. I paused outside the room as other parents went in.
I spotted my daughter in the corner, playing with some of her friends,
oblivious to what had happened. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She was still just a child.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I waited. I watched her playing. Something
deep inside told me to let her play just a few more minutes. The other parents
instinctively knew not to mention what was going on and not to scare the
children. We all put on a smile and pretended that we were just there to pick
them up for a special day together. I let Daisy play for maybe three minutes or
so…while I thought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought about the world she was now
living in. How in one ten minute span, her entire future was changed. I didn’t
know just how much, but I knew that after today, things could never be the
same. And I cried again. I cried because I knew that somehow, the childhood I’d
dreamed of giving her; the one I was working for, and planning for, was not
possible now. This evil monster would always be there. From now until eternity.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I finally walked in the room and she ran to
me as she always did. Because she was a daddy’s girl. I scooped her up and
hugged her as tightly as I could. I was trying to shield her. To block the evil
from affecting her life. Like maybe if I squeezed her enough, the morning would
be undone and she could just have a normal childhood. But that could never be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day was a blur after that. We went to
get breakfast and then we went grocery shopping. I called her mom and she talked
to our daughter for a minute, just to hear her voice. We went to my home, which
was ten minutes into the countryside, where we felt like it was safer. But was
it? She played outside in the sunshine oblivious to what was happening, while I
listened to the radio and pushed her on her swing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the end of that long day, with the sky
empty of planes, except for the occasional military jet, patrolling, and with
the stunned sorrow beginning to turn into righteous rage, I wept again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought of my grandparents. Was this
what they felt on December 7, 1941? Was this how it felt that Sunday evening,
after the smoke had settled and the body counting had begun?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cried a lot more the next day, seeing
the smoke and fire where two works-of-art in building form had been. When the
reports came in of the brave 343 first responders who willingly ran into the
buildings and died when they fell. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seventeen years later and I still can’t
see those pictures. I still can’t see the stills of the ones who chose to jump.
I still can’t see the flag, flying from a mast still attached to a piece of the
building now laying in the street. I can’t see any of that without crying. In
fact, I think that if I ever relive that day in my mind and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">don’t</i> cry, I’ll question my own
humanity, my patriotism, and my compassion. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I see people who don’t get emotional
it angers me. When I see that in some pockets of this country, people who
openly espouse the kind of sick evil are actually running for elected office –and
in some cases winning—I am sickened and seething.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I will never fully trust those
who belong to the sect who did this to us. Sorry…that’s life. That’s what
happens when you attack us. There is going to be a bit of guilt by association
and you had better just understand it. You’d better just understand my distrust
and my holding you at arm’s length and you’re having to prove yourself to me
and to my country. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">still</i> cry.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-89231285041754981732018-09-05T11:59:00.000-04:002018-09-09T08:02:40.520-04:00I Was Here...Saying a long goodbye to a dear friend<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a hard week. It’s been a hard few
months, bookended within a hard year. Just hard. I turn fifty-five this week. It’s
been hard for me. It’s not the number…it’s the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">regrets</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I hate my birthday. I think I
always have. There are reasons why and I won’t go into them here. But by the
time I was thirty, I stopped celebrating my birthday at all. I just chose to go
to work or school and act like it was just another day, until it finally became
just another day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this week is hard. Harder than usual.
In the midst of my usual self-assessment and subsequent sadness over all that
should have been, might have been, and probably never will be, I’m also now
forced to begin the grieving process for one of the dearest friends I have ever
had. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friend Rick has terminal cancer. I can’t
even look at the words as I type them. I can’t accept this and I can’t believe
it. Rick has been my friend for almost thirty years now. He was a Christian
musician and I began as just a fan, met him almost by accident, and we became
friends. I am the oldest in my family, so I never had a big brother. But I had
Rick.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am watching him fight bravely. Fight the
disease and fight the prognosis, and fight the sadness and the unrelenting
assault of the illness. Cancer doesn’t have a game plan. It has no time limits.
It can move slowly or invade like a lightning strike. It doesn’t care. It’s
just a bunch of unfeeling cells with only one thing programmed into its code.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friend is doing his best to refuse
surrender. He will find ways to make me laugh when I call. He’ll joke about his
plight. He’s good at this…good enough that I can’t tell if he’s just being
brave for everyone else, or if he’s really this hopeful. Like maybe he knows
something we don’t. Like they found a cure and it’s being rolled out thirteen
days from now and he is number three on the list and everything is secretly
going to be just fine. Like he’s just holding this card close to his chest
until a day or so beforehand and then he’ll tell us all, and we’ll go have
dinner together and celebrate.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know none of this is true but Rick’s
humor and ease makes me wish, and believe just a little. I’m in denial. I know
it. But I can’t bring myself to accepting this. I can’t grasp a world without
Rick Elias and the music, and the conversations, and the Christmas Party, and
the Superbowl commentary. (Rick’s father-in-law was an NFL coach and his wife
can take over a football viewing party like no other woman) <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a certain self-satisfaction with
being a fan of someone who exists slightly on the outside of a genre. It’s like
a badge of honor that tells the world that your tastes are a little more discriminating.
My musical tastes were always this way. My record collection was, for the most
part, made up of names you know, but you don’t know any of their stuff. I
reveled in converting my friends to the sounds of Southside Johnny, Little
Steven, Willy Deville…and Rick Elias.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Usually the first response was “That’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Christian</i> music? That’s way too good to be Christian music.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And it was</i>. It was
because, for the last twenty years or so, especially since the plague of “praise
and worship” took over everything on the airwaves, Christian music has been
horrible. Horrible like “I’d rather hear the “Brady-Kids-singing” horrible.
The last record I cared about was Rick’s “Job” album and before that, “The
Jesus Record” which was Rich Mullins’ posthumous masterpiece. I stopped
listening to the genre…then I stopped caring about it. That’s sad. And that’s
why we needed Rick in the first place.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is weighing on me as I have dealt
with this terrible illness that my friend has and with the inevitable goodbye,
and with the gaping hole in my heart, and with the snapshots of all the moments
we’ve shared. I can’t stop the movie that plays in my soul, and I don’t want
to. But sometimes watching it hurts even more. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three weeks ago I wrote him a letter. I
debated sending it because I was afraid it was sounding like I was eulogizing
my friend before he was gone. Like I was giving up. But I wanted…I desperately <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">needed, </i>to know that he heard my words
sooner, not later. I wanted to be certain that he knew I loved him. That I was
honored by his friendship. That I bore witness to this life of his. That
someone stood up and said “I see you.” That he knew that others knew he was
here.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s
really the point of this piece today. Because Rick is facing something that
ultimately we all face, and for me it has only served to emphasize the internal
wrestling I’ve been experiencing for over a year now. I’m getting older.
Certainly not old, but I’m older. And I wonder, as fifty-five approaches in a
few days, did anyone know I was here? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
My daughter knows, of course. A
few of my friends I suppose. But otherwise I wonder about the value of the life
I’ve led so far. If I was somehow undone from history, what would the world
look like?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve walked most of this walk of mine
alone. That’s simply a fact. I didn’t grow up in a home where I was valued very
much and I learned early on to just make my own way. That’s great for survival,
but in the long term, it doesn’t lend itself to the feeling that somehow,
someone in the crowd of six billion humans saw <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>. I’m questioning this now as I turn fifty-five, and as my
friend faces eternity. Who saw me? Who saw Rick? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wrote him that long letter and sent it
last week, after a few days of debating it in my heart. I hoped he would
understand what I was saying, and what I was not. I wanted him to know that I
saw him. That I see the footprints of his life and his work and some of those
prints are on the sacred ground of my own heart. I saw the man he is and the
dad he is and the husband he is and the Christian he is. I’ve seen the good and
the bad and the in-between. And I stand as a witness to a life well lived. A
job well done. A body of work that is superior to many who have achieved more
fame, on far less talent. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s been my friend. My friend when I was
flying high and when I crashed on his couch. My friend when we disagreed,
sometimes vehemently, and my friend when we were in complete unity. He read my
writing and laughed at my jokes. He’d send me an email with a new song inside. “Don’t
share this yet, but what do you think?” or he’d call me and ask me to come over
and just hang out, because he knew I was a new divorcee, and I was his friend,
and his friend was hurting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am angry with myself that I have not
learned this lesson already by now. This lesson of telling people you love them
while there is plenty of time for them to accept it, and process it, and live
in the truth of it, and let it inspire them. Rick and I –thankfully—kept short
accounts. Twice I remember us disagreeing so passionately that we stopped
speaking. In both cases the silence ended fairly soon and we were sorry it
happened at all. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friend’s life and death battle has
taught me, reminded me really, that nothing is forever and nothing should be
taken for granted. If you love someone…<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">tell
them</i>. Whether you love them as a friend or romantically or whatever, tell
them. Tell them what they've meant to you, and why. Tell them how bland and
boring life would be without them. Tell them what they've added to your life.
Give examples. Remember moments. Thank them for making your life better. Hold
on tightly. Laugh at yourselves. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tell
them you love them</i>. Make sure they know. Make sure they know how invaluable
their life was to yours. How flavorless your banquet would have been without
the dish they brought. Go ahead and cry. It's in those tears, and in that
brokenness that the love you hold for them can escape the bonds of safety and
propriety, and you can feel it in all its depth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Say it. Go ahead and SAY IT! I love you,
my dear friend. You have meant more to me than all these words of mine can ever
express. You have brought me laughter, tears, joy, depth, anger, connection,
hope, despair, a glimpse of the Holy, the faint scent of the profane, and the
soft flutter of the occasional angel wing. The steps we took together covered
more ground than all my steps alone ever could.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hold nothing back. Because ultimately, in
this crowded world of six billion people, it’s hard to be seen. Hard to be
recognized. Hard to feel that someone, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">anyone</i>,
can pick your face out of the maddening crowd. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Friends are that for each other. The
witness to the life each other has led and the chronicler of the victories and
defeats and the ground gained and lost. I am determined, more than ever now, to
not let even one of my friends go through this life without them hearing me
tell them I love them. And why. And what that love has done in this hard heart
of mine. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe in that way, this long goodbye I am
saying to my dear friend Rick, will have meaning and purpose that extends
beyond his life, and into the concentric circles where his life and mine have
overlapped. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That, and the wonderful music he has bestowed
on us all, will keep him fresh in my heart, painful as it will be, until I see
him again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tell them you love them</i>…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
* If you would like to help my friend Rick and his family please consider giving here:<br />
<a href="https://www.gofundme.com/rick-elias-medical-expenses" target="_blank">Go Fund Me for Rick Elias</a></div>
<br />Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-11008121324030877272018-07-04T19:32:00.003-04:002018-07-04T19:32:58.782-04:00Happy Birthday America...
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Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="List Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="List Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Mention"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Smart Hyperlink"/>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I
never met either of my paternal grandparents. Both were long deceased by the
time I came along. But I do know that they were both immigrants to this
wonderful country. My grandfather Joseph, lied about his age and stowed away
aboard a freighter and wound up outside of Philadelphia. My grandmother and her
family all came here together and wound up in South Philly. My mom's father was
born on the boat on the way here from the Ukraine. My mom's mother was the only
one of my grandparents born on US soil, but even that only by a year or two.
Her parents emigrated from England and Holland not many years before she was
born.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My
maternal grandfather was a SeaBee in WWII in the Pacific Theater. I have a
picture of him as a very young man, posing with to fellow sailors in New Guinea
around 1942.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Maybe
that's where I get it from...my love for this country. My heritage is found in
countries not nearly as wonderful or blessed as this one. Not that those
nations aren't wonderful themselves...but they aren't America. I've heard the
stories -some first hand and some second hand-- about the hardships they faced
and how much this country meant to them. Among my grandparents, on either side,
there was not a handout to be found. Not a government gift or a social program
freebie. They came with nothing, they worked hard, and they became parents,
business people and homeowners. They weren't perfect, by any means. They were
rough, somewhat uneducated because of their standing in society, maybe rough
around the edges. They were also hard working, people of Faith, good neighbors,
good citizens, good people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">And
they were AMERICANS.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">From
what I understand, my grandfather didn't bother teaching Italian to his
children. Because they were "Medicones." Not that they didn't pick it
up along the way, but his first command to them was that they were Americans
and would behave like Americans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">They
were proud of who they had been, but far more proud of who they were.
Americans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I've
always been a history buff and always an unabashed Yankee Doodle Dandy. But as
I've gotten older, and more worn by the years, (and hopefully wiser) I am even
more so. I didn't know about my Italian heritage until I was 21 and didn't meet
my family until 2007 at age 43. There was a period, when that was new and exciting,
where I was self-hyphenating. I was Italian American or American Italian,
depending on how you divvy up the whole percentages thing. But in the last
eight or ten years I stopped doing that. I am fiercely proud of my Italian
heritage and especially of my family and our story. The longer I've known my
cousins and siblings the more I've grown to really love them, and I hope they
feel that way about me. I'm LUCKY to be a Daliessio.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">But
I'm far luckier still -blessed by God in fact-- to be an American. My heritage
on either side takes a backseat to my citizenship and birthright as an
American. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">As
years pass I've grown more and more sentimental, more unashamedly patriotic,
more fiercely loyal and protective of this land of mine. There are place in
this world I want to visit...but none as much as the wonderful places inside
our own borders. I want to go to my grandfather's hometown of Montecassino
someday. But probably not until I have seen more of OUR mountains. Or met more
of my fellow Americans. Instead of backpacking across Europe, I dream of
traveling this country, without a roadmap or an itinerary, and just see what is
out there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">If
it were possible, I would find the center of this great land...the place where
her heart is...and fall on that sacred ground and pull her to my chest. I love
her that much. She has given me and my family everything...by giving us nothing
more than a chance. 242 years ago, 56 great men closed out this day by signing
a document that got this all rolling. Their signatures almost invariably
guaranteed their own personal ruin. Less than a third of them would survive the
Revolution with their fortunes, or their lives, intact. But that was a
sacrifice they were willing to make for the sake of the promise that this new
country held. If The United States of America could take root. If she could
survive. Then the promise of her founding would be there for the children and
grandchildren of these noble men, and that was enough for them to risk it all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I
just can't look at a sacrifice like that and simply go on about my day. I owe
them. I owe them diligence and vigilance. I owe them my best, to keep this
nation always functioning at IT'S best. I owe them my best efforts at being a
great AMERICAN citizen, a great neighbor, a great friend, and a great patriot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I'm
trying. Every day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Happy
Birthday America.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">God
Bless you still<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-87420865978020824632018-07-03T22:56:00.000-04:002018-07-03T22:56:41.527-04:00The Night Before America
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">"I
wonder what they thought, those 56 amazing men. Those 56 men who literally
valued this nation over their own lives and fortunes. Who loved freedom more
than wealth, comfort, success or personal gain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I
wonder what July 3, 1776 felt like for them. I wonder if they prayed a little
harder, tossed and turned, or wept. I wonder if they walked softly into their
children's rooms that night, and thought; "Dear God...what am I about to
undertake?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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wonder if they lay awake all night, waiting for the dawn and wondering if it
would ever come. I wonder what sort of images raced through their minds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">The
next sunrise would bring the day of decision. They had spent two whole days
crafting this beautiful, brilliant declaration, telling King George -in the
most respectful, sacred, unbending way imaginable-- that they answered to
Someone far more noble, and far more feared and honored than he. That they owed
it to God Himself to take this stand, because these rights that George was
crushing, did not come from George. He had been granted custodian over them by
right of his nobility. They came from God. God had entrusted their care to
George, and George was misappropriating that trust.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">So
these men...these 56 giants of wisdom, Faith, and humility, chose -on behalf of
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a nation unlike any other before or since.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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wonder how far down that road they could see? Beyond the inevitable war with
Britain. Beyond the unavoidable growing pains. Beyond the doubt of the
naysayers and the wailing of the mothers whose sons would surely be laid waste
on battlefields yet to be determined, in the name of this document they had
just crafted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">That
night in July, on the evening before the first day of The United States of
America, all this was still to come. All our greatness, all our achievement,
all our progress, and invention, and exploration, and all our losses. Our
brightest days, and our darkest nights were all still to come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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tomorrow...they would finish this task and sign this document and the great
tale of America would begin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">...Tomorrow"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-23853471346823004722018-06-05T08:31:00.000-04:002018-06-05T08:36:05.814-04:00The Political Death of Sports in America<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of figures"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of authorities"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This morning I posted a brief
article about how I’m finished with the Eagles after this White House affair. I’m
done with players putting themselves above the fans who pay their salaries. We don’t
ask for much…be nice if we see you out in public. Represent our city well.
STAND for the anthem, just like we all do. And when you get the
once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet the president and have him honor OUR
CITY…you go. Even if you have to hold your nose…you go.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After posting that article, I’ve
been lambasted by Philly fans and told “bye” about a thousand times. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Because I disagree <i>politically</i>.</div>
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<span style="background: #eff1f3; color: #1d2129;">Is that how you REALLY feel? Do you REALLY want only fans
who agree with you politically? Do you really want people who were born in
Philly, grew up there, and hold it in their hearts as home, no matter where
they live, to stop being fans of our team because they don’t vote as you vote,
or support what you support? Is that REALLY how you feel? When I support Philly
causes, and send money for Philly charities, you want me to stop doing that
because I don't line up with you across the board? Is that really what you
want. Do you want to only go to games at the Linc where the people surrounding
you all share the same thinking, the same voting, the same ideology? Really?
You're okay with sports descending into that level? Because I'm not. Sports
gives us a small window -maybe a few hours-- where we cannot have to think
about those things...because we think about those things almost non-stop. We
can cheer for one common team and one common love for our city. Now even THAT
is compromised. You're okay with that? Because I'm not. I might care how you
vote or who you support every other day of the week, but when I go to an Eagles
game or a Phillies Game or a Flyers game I don't care about that stuff. The
Linc holds what...55000? You seriously think every one of them holds YOUR
ideology? Or Chris Long's? Or Malcom Jenkins'? Does it bother you that not
every single seat is filled by a Trump hating liberal? Or is that the one place
and the one time when those things don't matter? Because that's what it is to
me. You're good with taking that away too?<br />
And I'M intolerant??</span><span style="color: #1d2129; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
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<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8171719111735738220.post-11992376935670899382018-06-05T06:13:00.000-04:002018-06-05T06:19:48.634-04:00Goodbye Eagles...<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="ea4kh" data-offset-key="bim9v-0-0" style="background-color: white;">
<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="bim9v-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative; text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Sports used to unite us. They used to be the one place where we could forget the unrest and turbulence of the world and just cheer for our boys, and our town. There wasn't a Republican section or a Democrat section or a liberal section or a conservative section. Just Home vs Visitor.
<i>Home. </i>
MY team. MY town. The stadium was hallowed, and other than church, it was maybe the only place you could cheer and get raucous and wildly passionate and nobody cared who you voted for or where you stood. Those things are important, but they are also heavy and wearisome. You need a place where you don't have to think about those things for a while. A place where you can feel good after a win, or find camaraderie after a loss, and nobody cared which party you were registered to or where you stood on an issue. They cared about which color jersey you cheered for, not what color your skin is. They argued about who was the better QB...not who was the better president.
Now...we can't even have that anymore. Making millions of dollars isn't enough. Adulation isn't enough. A dream life isn't enough. You have to steal a moment that fans have waited to have for an entire lifetime. The same fans who make that life of yours possible. You don't get it. You don't care that you don't get it. You've lost a true fan and a true voice, and, tragically, you've distanced yourself from someone who really understands what used to be so great about sports.
Goodbye Eagles...
</span></span>
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</style>Craig Daliessiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04622536691388864746noreply@blogger.com0