puzzle pieces

What if a renowned painter took his masterpiece and cut it into millions of little bits? Odd-shaped pieces that made no sense on their own, that look funny and incomplete. If you found one on the road you would immediately know this fragment is a part of something bigger. It’s an incomplete picture. A part of a whole.

What if we are puzzle pieces? Cut out of a larger design, meant to find where we fit. Only then can we see more of the beauty that is singularly realized when we are placed next to other people. When we are fitted into the spot we were originally created for.

I think we get a glimpse of this when we figure out what we are good at, the areas in which we excel. For some of us it’s math or a love of language; perhaps standing on a ballfield or painting makes our hearts sing. We discover some skill or passion and think perhaps this is my purpose. It feels good and right to hone in on, say, running or designing or counseling. We are problem solvers, peacemakers or leaders just waiting to find our spot in life. We feel energized and purposeful when we are in these roles.

So many of us are looking for where we fit in. Sometimes it’s within our own family, “What role do I play . . . the planner, the organizer or the comic relief?” Where do we plug into the work force? As the dependable one or the empathetic one? What is a good job for me with my skills and background? What about our communities, be it urban or rural? We might ask ourselves if we take or give, do we help or hurt?

These are the questions all Christians should be asking of themselves. And really it starts with the church. By church, I do not mean a particular assembly or even a physical building, but the invisible church that all believers are part of once they enter the fold. We are fitted to fill a void in the church body. Galatians 6:10: “As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith.”

It’s interesting that Paul explains the church in just such a way—as a body. “So we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another.” (Rom 12:5) A body is only valuable when it is alive and animated, it houses our spirits and our souls, and it is the spirit that is eternal, everlasting and timeless. Just like a person, if all the systems don’t work together, something gets out of whack. We need all of the parts to work in harmony.

Have you ever heard of kinesiology? The basic definition is the study of the mechanics of body movements.

It is not limited to just muscular movements, but internal systems; like how your kidney function effects the rest of your framework. Beyond that even, how the foods we eat and emotions we deal with can take a toll on the functions of our anatomy. I find this study endlessly fascinating. How everything within our body effects everything else, and sometimes it’s hard to figure out where the problems even started? Is it a milk allergy or stress. . . I could talk about this all day.

But as someone who has historically not been a big churchgoer, I have felt challenged on this issue in the last few years. After all, the Bible tells us we need each other. We need other believers, and this was the kicker for me . . . they need us!

I have told myself: I’m in the Word, I’m in Bible studies and prayer groups, I have Christian community, I listen to teachings online. I have described it as a pieced-together church. I have all the elements without the actual commitment to a group of people. I hand-picked my group; these are people I like and get along with, what could be wrong with that?

While there is nothing “wrong” with it, I have come to see that it isn’t the full picture. Our personal friend groups are not the same as a church. When we surround ourselves with easy, amiable and like-minded people, we are not challenged to serve the unlovely or practice patience or self-control as much as we are when in a church setting—be it a huge assembly or a growing home church. It’s easier to sacrifice for people who appreciate me and love me. Now that is great, we should all be so blessed; but what about the more challenging teachings of loving the people who are difficult, if someone asks you to walk a mile, walk two or forgive someone 70x7? Am I called to do these things only in my bespoken group of friends?

Perhaps for some of us it’s easier to serve in a big setting where it isn’t personal and apt to get messy. We can sorta melt away and know others will pick up the slack. While as Christians, we are all in the big invisible church of believers, we are also to plug into a smaller piece of the puzzle. In our homes, workplaces, towns, schools and of course churches. In these places we can bring something to the table, something that might be missing. . . if we didn’t show up. God has shaped us and formed us through our experiences, our natural gifts and acquired knowledge to play a role in the body. To keep it working properly.

Have you asked God what your role is?

Have you spent time in prayer seeking His direction for your life?

What part are you uniquely suited to play?

Sometimes we need someone to pray for us. Last week, I talked to a friend going through a really hard time and she said she couldn’t even pray, I immediately knew my role, I could pray when she could not. What about when someone is tired and weary from struggles, what a blessing if we were to clean their house or make them a meal. When others have questions about the Bible we can meet them for coffee and talk it through. If a friend needs some words of encouragement, we can speak against the enemy’s lies. We all have different strengths to offer our church and community. Nobody is going to ask me to make them a meal, or it they did they would quickly have regrets; but if they are stuck on a biblical principle, I might get a phone call. This is a spot I have been fitted to fill, and I’m really glad there are people I can call to help put my house in order or drive me in bad weather.

We feel how uncomfortable it is to be slotted into the wrong spot. We are called to stretch ourselves for sure, I’ve had to bring a dish to pass (so stressful) while someone else is pushed to witness when its uncomfortable. But I sometimes wish we could have a barter system of spiritual gifts. Could someone come get my house ready for guests and I’ll talk to your co-worker about the Bible. I have actually done this and it’s great. To me this a well-working church body. Trading off our strengths and weaknesses.

This is why we need the church. I need people to speak truth over me, pray for me, expose my delusions when I’m looking at things wrong or believing lies. When we “Walk in the Spirit” we will “by love serve one another.” (Gal 5:13) Once we become believers, this is part of the call on our life. The assignment is greatest in our own homes (and usually the hardest place to walk out the fruits of the spirit). Next is to other believers, our siblings-in-Christ, this is no easy feat either. We often expect more of these people, and yet we all disappoint and need grace and understanding even when we “know better.” When we walk out in the world we often have lower expectations, so in some ways it’s easier to be forgiving and patient. Yet, we serve in all these fields, We are needed and fashioned to bring God’s truth and love everywhere we go, no matter how it’s received. No matter if it’s reciprocated. No matter if we feel equipped or not. No matter if we feel like it . . .

Our gifts are not for us to elevate ourselves, but to bring glory to God. To serve others and point towards His kingdom; away from the temporal towards the eternal, and away from death towards life. Our gifts are a shadow of God’s goodness, that when fitted together with others’ gifts, make a more complete picture of how God designed the church to function.

If we could somehow step back and look at the whole puzzle neatly fitted together, we would see how there was an intentional design all along, with a cross shaped piece right in the middle.

It is only when Christ is at that the center that any of it makes sense. His love brings order to the chaos. Meaning to the meaningless. Value to the mundane. He alone gives us purpose, fitting us into the exact spot we were shaped for in this life.  

Further reading:

A lesson from childhood: Sharing

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Drafts on Demolition (Soul Restoration Series part Two)

Restoration is time-consuming. When we think of restoring old buildings (as we do in our line of work) or perhaps a work of art, we don’t jump to DIY. These are not quick “do-it-yourself” projects. This type of labor requires professionals. So it is, when it comes to my spiritual life. I don’t head over to the self-help section. Nope. This is not a job I can handle on my own—like doing electrical wiring or plumbing (and believe me, nobody would want me on those jobs). God is my go-to (be-all) professional consultant. And I need to consult Him everyday.

In my first article on restoration read here, I wrote about how God loves a project. He is in the business of restoration. Soul restoration. When He knocks on the door of our hearts, we have to invite Him in before he can start to do any work. Once we have greenlighted the project, He comes in with with the heavy machinery (the kind you need a license to operate). While the Lord does the heavy lifting, we do still have a part to play. We have been provided with a toolbox of our own.

Just as we don’t buy an old building to keep it the same, we need to be ready for God to make some changes in our lives. Am I willing to be renovated? This means the way I spend my time will change. I need to be ready to make reading the Bible a priority, almost a daily habit. In my 20’s, when I was trying to figure out this whole faith thing, I reasoned that I better actually read the Bible (like the whole thing) and not just the parts I saw on bumper stickers. Since then, I have read it from cover to cover, almost every year of my life. Just knowing what the Lord says does huge restoration work on our souls. As we learn His ways, down come some of the false ceilings and crumbling walls and we can start to see the framework God set up for our lives.

DEMO is always the first step in a big rehab project. Time for all the extra layers the space has acquired over the years to get ripped down. Old buildings have had many owners and often many uses. Depending on how old you are perhaps you have tried on some different personas over the years. We go through so many stages, good and bad, chasing after the wrong things, the wrong people. These stages can leave a mark in our thinking. I can still remember some of the lies people told me over the years that really colored the way I saw the world, myself and God. We need to take our thinking back to the studs. Get a clean slate and really dive into what the Word of God has to say about how we should think, live and treat those around us. The demo stage is messy and brutal as strongholds and negative thinking patterns get taken out to the dumpster.

Once all the old junk is moved out of the way (& this can take years); and you think you’ve sandblasted that pessimistic thinking out of your life . . . ahhh! there’s that mold growing in the corner again. I believe there is a demo stage of restoring our souls, but the maintenance is endless. That’s why I couldn’t just read the Bible through once and call it good. To stay on top of entropy (def: a measure of disorder; e.g., melting ice), I need to be constantly (daily is best) reading the Bible because old thinking and lies try to work their way back into my mind. I often think of it as feather dusting my mind; if I do nothing, just like dust, wrong thinking will build up. And just when you’re sure everything is sparkling clean the sun comes out and shows you all the corners you missed. Be sure to look under the furniture because dust bunnies love to hide out in the dark spaces.

What are some areas of your spiritual life and thought life that need to be demoed?

Maybe the way you think of yourself?

The way you think of God?

Or the way you relate to those around you?

How do you talk to yourself? Is it mostly negative and discouraging? What are some of the things you hear on replay? I’m doing a Bible study and one of the assignments was to write down how we think of ourselves. The adjectives I used were along the lines of not enough, lacking, failure. To my surprise almost every other woman I’ve asked about this has come up with the same type of words. Yet, when I look at the lives of these women, I think, “wow they got it together.” The enemy whispers to so many of us in the same way.

The warfare starts in our minds. It starts with how we think about ourselves and then it shows up in our words and in our lives. I often have to remind myself that I’m fearfully and wonderfully made (Ps 139:14), that God uses all different types of people (I Cor 12:4), that when I am weak, He is strong (Phil 4:13). A simple read-through of the Bible will show us that God does not use perfect people. Actually, apart from Christ, He uses exclusively flawed people. That alone stops some of those negative thoughts. Yup, I’m lacking, I can never measure up, I will never be perfect, but like that old building we’re rehabbing, despite all its flaws, we see its potential . . . and God sees ours.

When I can see God moving in my life, it’s easier to “feel” that He loves me and cares about me. It is when He is seemingly silent that I start to question His promises. I know He is a God of miracles and I believe He wants good things for me. Yet, when I’m in a time of waiting, I start to lose hope. I start to question what the Word says because I can’t see it in the physical world. I have to come to terms with my own expectations, my own time line, and my own plans for what I deem best. Often our faith is built in the “waiting” and faith is, after all, believing in what we can’t see, but know to be true nonetheless. Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Heb 11:1) There is no doubt we live in a fallen world and for me there is no doubt God can work miracles in lives and hearts. The place I struggle is between those two points. How about you?

Just as a room needs to be demoed, my expectations of the how’s and when’s in my life need some demo work.

There might be some walls that need to come down.

We are made for relationships. It may not feel like it to some of us. I tend to self-isolate when I’m sad or angry. I don’t want to talk to anyone and that includes God. Sure I can do crazy, crying prayers in the shower or while driving, but I’m not really all that interested in the answer, I just want to feel better. I don’t really want to figure out how I got here (again!). But often God will use other people to speak to us and in turn He uses us to speak to other people. Thus, the importance of relationships. We help each other. Yes, we need alone time and time with God, but he pours into us so we can pour into others. His Spirit moves us to speak into a friend’s life or forgive or rejoice with someone. Apart from the odd hermit we live in community. We have to get along. This has really been tested lately in the world. If we are ambassadors of Christ, what does that look like? And (surprise again) we have different takes on that so how do we manage in truth and in love?

This is a lot of demolition work on our thinking and therefore on our words and our actions.

Are we willing to be taken down to the studs?

Do we believe God knows what is best for us? (This one is really hard for me.)

If those old buildings could groan and complain when we are ripping away the old walls and ceilings, I’m sure they would cry out—it is hard, painful work—but the end result is worth it. In our heart of hearts we know it is best. We can’t hang onto that old rotting stuff; we want it gone, we want to be made new. We want to be stronger and more solid in our faith, in our worth in Christ, in our value as a child of God. We want the little foxes of doubt chased out. We want the birds (of prey) that peck away at the corners of our thoughts to fly away. We want to be restored. “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” Jn 10:10b

God will restore us. It is hard hard work. But the result will be amazing.

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Further Reading:

Take Heart: Why Our Struggles are important

Playing the Wrong Notes

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Drafts on the New Shore

The holiday season is fully unwrapped; bits of paper and ribbon are strewn about, not only on my floor, but also in my mind. I find myself longing for a clean canvas. We have been working up to something: the big event. Everything merry and bright. Trees covered in tinsel, mugs with snowmen and bells on dog collars. This season is warm and jolly and it is also loud and busy. Many of us can become frustrated with the holiday season. It demands a lot from us. All the cards to address and gifts to buy and bows to tie. Like a good party, its fun; but after a while you just want to bury yourself in the coat pile and take a nap.

As all children, I loved the Christmas season! It was not, however, for the meaning of the holiday or the family time, but for all the unabashed consumerism. I felt zero shame in making an outlandish list of toys—this was, as far as I was concerned, the point. Once I entered young adulthood, however, my enchantment with the whole thing shattered like a dropped Christmas tree ball. I became decidedly anti-holiday and Christmas was the biggest offender in my mind. It was just all about things. And just so there is no confusion, I still wanted “things” to be under the tree on December 25th, but I was above it in an “emotional” sense. I scoffed at dishes with Santa, fake garlands, candy canes and holly-shaped soaps; outside of some white lights, Christmas décor was way over done. It was was just trying too hard.

Yet, age changes one’s perspective. The further I swim out into the lake of life. the more I find myself looking for a floating dock. A touchstone. A place to rest on my journey through this world. Holidays have taken on a new meaning for me. And Christmas, I must confess has become my favorite of traditions. I find it a great comfort. Not for its hot drinks and iced cookies, not even for its dancing lights or new mittens, but as a landing place. A safe spot to climb out of the waters of life and look around a bit. Or should I say look up a bit. The singing angels and shining lights are not there to illuminate what we have or don’t have, for that matter, but to remind us once a year of the babe in the manger. The holidays often seem to point out what we don’t have—that missing person, that broken relationship, that lack of resources; and while these things are melancholy, they do not take away from what God did for us. For all the pain, all the lack, all the loss—God sent His Son.

What are some resting places in your life?

What floating docks do you swim to throughout the year?

Our Christmas this year was more sober than most. We experienced a great loss. It was hard to celebrate in the face of grief. But I found myself still thankful for the floating dock of Christmas. A place to hold on and rest. It was not rest for my body, far from it; but rest for my soul. Knowing on this longest of nights we stop to celebrate The Word made flesh, laid in a manger and the hope for all humanity. Now, as the season is passed, and we are on the other side, staring a long cold January in the eyes, I’m thankful for the warmth of that little manger scene. I have a Saviour that understands my fragility. He cried for his mother, was tempted, hungered, felt betrayal, bled, suffered and died. All so very human. So very us.

Hebrews 4:15

For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feelings of our infirmities: but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.

As I take down Christmas cards and put away my new little treasures and eat the very last star cookie, I am thankful, and perhaps, more so than I was in the moment. I stayed up too late laughing on the couch, watched people I love open gifts, and sipped clove-laden hot toddies after a funeral. Now the pretty paper is in the bin, the tree is shedding needles and yes, that cookie was a bit stale. It’s time to get off the dock and swim back into life. I will carry this season with me, some of it is heavy and weighs me down, but some of it lifts me up. I’m ready to get back to work. I’m planning to spend more time in prayer and study. Already I’ve experienced new revelations in my understanding of God and my place. I’m doing a deep dive into warfare and praise. I’m using my new pens to mark up great spiritual books gifted me this season.

I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions, but I do think the ritual has its place. We have celebrated, (and perhaps mourned), we have ate too much chocolate and cheese, we hung ornaments and sang in candle-lit churches. It’s difficult to take it all down; hard to go back to the bareness of it all. Gingerbread smells that wafted through our kitchens are replaced by the hint of cleaning sprays and totes of greenery are placed in the attic, stockings are put away. Now is a time to look ahead. The cycle of the year has washed us up on a new shore.

Now I look to my spiritual goals. To grow closer to the Lord. To understand my faith better. To do more of His work. I want to equip myself for the long swim. And yet, we typically focus on our physical health and set goals towards earthly accolades. But what is beyond that? What awaits past the here and now? With age, with trials, with loss we become more aware of our limits.

Remember ye not the former things neither consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and river in the desert.

Isaiah 43:18-19

Hope is the answer. Expectancy for what is over the horizon. I can’t always find my way to hope. I get lost in the tangles of this life. Like a fretful night, I toss and turn and become caught up in blankets that weigh me down. But all I need to do is turn on a light and see that it’s just a dream. This life is but a vapor. Smoke. The glow of truth chases away the monsters. We have a God who loves us so much he sent His Son as our Redeemer. On our best day and our worst day and all the hours in between, that is always true. The hope is always there, but sometimes I can’t see it and I have to rely on faith. I need to grow my faith by reading the Bible, praying the scriptures and speaking the truth with my mouth, so that the lies are chased away.

I look out at the blank pages of this year—as a white snowy day, a cold lake, a smoothed out sheet—and aim to cross more pages of the scriptures, walk in the beauty of nature, swim in the waters of life and rest in the Lord.

What are your aspirations for this year?

Have you considered setting spiritual goals?

I often think of snow as a reminder that God keeps giving us fresh starts. His blessings are new every morning, He covers our messy sin with fresh clean snow. We can always have a new start with God, as His children we are granted Christ’s covering. I love to stare out at a snowy field, a sparkling white canvas. That is how God sees us when we come to him asking forgiveness, seeking help and guidance. He paints over all our mistakes like fresh white snow over a muddy pasture. He beckons us to follow Him. He gives us rest and then encourages us to jump back in the water, to walk on a new path.

Where will your footprints lead?

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Drafts on Fuzzy Hope

I love all four seasons, but here in Michigan we have a fifth season. We refer to it as second winter. If you don’t know what that is, it’s when you think surely (surely!) winter is almost over; and then a whole ‘nother winter starts, but this time without Christmas lights. I’m a big fan of sweaters and boots and reading by a fireplace, so I don’t complain as much as most, but even a second winter is too much for me. So as you can imagine, by the time we hit anything faintly reminiscent of spring, we are very excited. People will wear shorts and sandals and rave about the balmy weather when it hits anything above 50 degrees.

It reached into the 60s here last week and I found myself sitting outside drinking an oat milk miel latte, feeling like there was hope in the world once again. It was glorious. Springtime naturally turns my mind to newness and growth. This winter has been particularly hard on my writing. I felt frozen. Unable to thaw out any good ideas. Like standing before my freezer looking at unappealing chunks of chicken and ground turkey. Not appetizing! Sure you can take them out, thaw them, cook them up and add spices, but it all just feels rather . . . uninspiring.

As I sip on my honey cinnamon froth, the sun is shining on my face and some far-reaching branches from the artisanal planter behind me are attacking my hair. I turn around to confront my assailant which turns out to be one of my favorite branches (What? You don’t have a favorite branch?). Mine is the pussy willow. Lovely pink and yellow blossoms surround tall sprigs of this small cat-like tree known as the pussy willow. The silvery grey, fuzzy catkins (. . .could that be any cuter?) remind me of a sweet childhood memory.

When I was young my dad would take my sister and I to pick pussy willows every spring. There was a spot down the road from the farm where we would select branches. We would point out a favored limb and he would nip them off with his pocket knife. We would take them home and put them in vases around the house. The pussy willow will always have a spot in my heart.

The pussy willow is one of the first plants to bloom after winter. Let me make that a bit more dramatic: after second winter! We are all so ready for something new. We are sick and tired of cold and wet and dreary times. Bleakness has ruled not only the days, but our minds. And just when we start to give up hope, we start to think—this is it, this is life now. Then something so unique, like the pussy willow, starts to blossom. But new hope is fragile, it’s shaky and unsteady. But God knows that we are on shaky ground after a hard winter.

Has your faith been tested this year?

Have you felt really tired?

Too cold and numb to go on?

I know I have. I have tried to stay steady in my faith. I know God is big. Bigger than my fears. Bigger than my doubts. Bigger than my loses. But I have felt stilted. Unable to grow. Just a bare branch on an icy day.

Then spring comes. And there is a tiny bud of hope. The sun comes out and melts some of the ice. Limbs we thought had perhaps died over the winter start to stir. Our minds soften to the idea of something new.

I’m creating something new says the Lord:

“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.” Isaiah 43:19 kjv

God, in His infinite wisdom, knows that our little buds of hope need a fuzzy coat to stay warm—like the pussy willows dressed in their little silvery grey jackets. New hope is very fragile and a sudden frost could kill the buds, if it were not for their outerwear.

So what is our outerwear against a cold snap? Because as anyone who lives in Michigan knows, there is always another cold day tucked right in between a row of pleasant days. We have hope and joy, inspiration and promise. We have banished the big puffy jacket to the back of the closet and . . . surprise, it’s 30 degrees out! This very thing actually happened to me today as I came back to this piece. I started it on a sunny and beautiful day. Yes, I will write again. There is hope. Then cut to a few days later: me driving to school in a white-out snow flurry completely aghast. What?!! Didn’t see this coming. But I should have.

We need to dress our hope in protective wear until it matures enough to withstand the elements. For my writing, I need to think there will be days in the sun where everything is easy, the words flow like brewing coffee, and I just have to catch it in my favorite typewriter mug. Other days it is cold and everything is hard. The coffee is bitter and turns my stomach, my favorite mug is in the dishwasher, but yet I still need to write. I still need to push forward.

It is like this in our faith. Some days we feel God’s presence. We have a song in our hearts, it’s a time of revival and newness. The branches that seemed stilted are suddenly sprouting new buds of joy, peace and long-suffering. God is using us to bless others, we are workers in the kingdom. The words of the Bible are alive, speaking directly into our lives. These are glorious days. Days with color and fragrance. Like a spring-time garden.

But then there are the dark days. The days it feels as if God has disappeared. The Bible seems antiquated and for a different time and place, confusing at best. We feel a heaviness like the clouds are low and about to pour out cold drizzle on our little fire. These are the days we need the fuzzy coats of the pussy willows. Something to keep out the chill, of yet, one more disappointment; to ward off the mist of a depression we can’t understand, to keep us from going back to frozen, back to numb, back to winter.

How do we get this jacket that the pussy willow comes by so naturally?

What lessons do our little fuzzy friends have to teach us?

The pussy willow doesn’t worry about the weather, they bloom in their time, trusting that God will equip them to come to full blossom. How often do I think that I know best. This isn’t a good time for me to start a ministry. I can’t move there. I can’t speak to that person. Yet, God says He will provide. But how do I know this? I know this because I have read His Word. Why does this so often not feel true? Usually, because I confuse my wants with my needs or I think being uncomfortable is reason enough not to move forward. The pussy willow would never bloom if they looked at a weather report. They just trust in that soft layer of fuzz - their protective “coat” - from their heavenly Maker.

Traditionally, the crocus is seen as a first sign of spring. It’s meant to symbolize hope. Their purple and white flowers pop up in my lawn every year, and I love them; but I always know I better enjoy them while I can because they are not going to make it long in Michigan. These are lovely, tiny little flowers that have no staying power. Just like these little beauties, I want my hope to be pretty. I want to collect it on a sparkling day and put handfuls of eye-catching bouquets around my house and hand it out to my loved ones. But this type of hope is fair-weathered and easily shaken.

I want my hope to be like the pussy willow. Sure, it’s not exactly pretty, but it is interesting, textured and hardy. It is soft to the touch but hard underneath. It’s not showy, but it has a promise of something more to come. It’s appropriately dressed for the weather (something mothers love).

Is your hope wearing a jacket? Just know that it’s going to thunderstorm, snow, hail and one day reign fire from heaven (see the Book of Revelation for details). We zip up our spiritual jackets when we read the Bible and spend time in prayer and worship, so our faith will not cool off and risk freezing.

How often do I think I’m better because things are better. It’s a nice day; I had a sweet word from a friend; I like my hair today. Yet, my hope and joy cannot be in these temporal things. And like the weather . . . my looks, my relationships and my work will have its ups and downs. There is only One that I can count on.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Hebrews 13:8 esv