The Christian and ISIS

It seems the threat of Isis to humanity and Christians in particular is greater than any opposition we have seen in decades.  It is becoming an issue in more and more countries. It is so revolting that we may wonder if Christian pacifism is still valid position. . I am tempted to applaud under my breath when the US makes a direct hit on an ISIS encampment. Even family members wonder if there is any alternative but to “shoot them”. The reports of ISIS taking over another town in Iraq or Syria and beheading hundreds of men, women and children pushes us to waver on an issue some of us have always felt mostly solved, at least theoretically. But is there another way than how we have always looked at it?

What should the Christian think or do about the whole issue? To ask the question assumes there might be an alternative, however incomplete it may be.

 Observations of our wider faith may point to some direction for us to take. First of all, we know that God knows and sees everything and knows more about what is going on than any of us. He is tolerating it so far. We know also that he is a just God and has judgment in store for all evil doers. Why he is not interrupting this evil is a question for which we have no good answer. It seems at least he should interfere since we can be sure he cares. He knows that Christians and many others are suffering incredibly in the disruption of families, homes, and churches. We may suppose there is some meaning to his apparent absence in the whole confusion. I have little answer for that.

We believe that God could do something to stop this atrocious activity we hear or read about every day. At least we assume he could if he would want to. So where do we go from here?

One thing we personally believe in very strongly is that we can, should, and do pray many times for God to act to frustrate the plans of evil doers so that they fail again and again. It is ironic that God would need our help to act, and that he may just do something more if we pray asking him to do something. Yet our whole belief in intercession is based on the belief that he will do more when we pray. Otherwise, intersession would be groundless. It may be less newsworthy as the networks judge, but I believe ISIS makes many plans that do not succeed, or kill far fewer they had hoped. Sometimes only the killer and a few die- not as many as could easily have died in the setup. We do not know why we are to pray about this but we can pray with the assurance that we should.

We also pray regularly for persons losing family members. It can be test of faith for them. Perhaps it is also a testimony of faith that believers are faithful to death. For refugees we pray a lot- that they find much more than they are pursuing- a new life of knowledge and security in Christ as they flee violence.Sometimes we hear of numerous such persons coming to faith in Christ.

It seems the more ISIS is opposed militarily the wider it expands throughout Europe and even Southern Asia. Self-radicalization brings it next door to us. We should not assume it will run its course and expire from exhaustion. They are recruiting effectively in many countries. Christians need a weapon consistent with God’s ways to fight evil. Jesus said that they who fight with the sword will die by the sword. It is the Sword of the Spirit that can control and overcome evil in all of its designs.  The weapons of carnal warfare will extend the battle a long time. We can do our part as Christians in working with God to overcome evil in many intelligent and loving ways. Christians and nations can do much by undermining the fruitful grounds of poverty and ignorance, dealing with social situations where radical Islam thrives. We do not need to stand on the sidelines of the battle, but seek God’s way of dealing with it. We may not have all the answers but we can move forward with God as he leads us.

                                                            My Father and Me

My earliest recollection of my father is when Christmas would be only a few days or a week away, he would take us little ones on his knees and sing “Silent Night”. Of course he sang it in German as “Stille Nacht”. Then one of us would ask him how many nights until Christmas. It was an expression of love to us to teach us one of his many songs that he loved and wanted us to know. It is not hard to imagine sitting there perhaps as a 2-3 year old, nestled in his arms as he sang to us. Actually I don’t remember his voice as much as the fact that we would slightly excitedly always ask him how long until the Day.

He was enthused about his children, picking them up and sometimes in a high pitched voice call us “lieb kindly”, translated loosely as “beloved child.” From our earliest days, we were important to him and he enjoyed being with us when the day’s work was done, or even when he came in for dinner, or even when we would go out where he was working. I have more feelings about those encounters then actual incidences that come to my mind. It seems he would always talk to us, although he would also be in deep meditation or rehearsing some relationship with some else and talking to himself barely audibly. He was a sociable person, not content to just be tight lipped. He was communicating whether the person spoken to was there or not. Sometimes we would ask him what he said. He was probably surprised and wondering what we had heard.

Occasionally I made the trip to town with him to do some shopping for groceries or what ever else we needed. Our horse Bobby was never in a hurry and would take about an hour to travel the 7 miles to town. As Dad would go from store to store, I would try to keep up with him. I don’t know if he was always in a hurry, but he knew where he was going and wanted to get his business done. He told me some of his business, like going from one grocery store to another because he knew the price of what he frequently bought, literally saving a penny here and there. He knew the value of a few cents. I suppose that thriftiness bid me well when I was in college twenty years later and had my own sense of economy on what was affordable and where I should buy my things.

I was also with Dad many times when he wanted us to help him on the farm. I suppose he both wanted train us and to have our help. I would drive the horses when we put in hay as the loader brought the hay up behind the wagon and he or a brother would load the wagon to get the most on without loosing any on the way to the barn. Later I could do that job of placing the loose hay around the wagon until we had a high load. Dad also wanted us around when he “made fence”, either a new fence, or repairing where the cattle had weakened it. He taught me to use a post hole digger, and to sight up posts in a straight row.

I remember once as we were working on a fence in the lane near the barn, he was teaching me a Bible verse, word by word, having one finger designated for each word- five in the first phrase; German words I can still repeat 65+ years later. Only years later did I learn where we find it or what it meant. Scripture was important to him and he wanted us to know Scripture. He probably helped us memorize verses for Sunday School

also although I don’t recall just what they were. He read to the family a chapter of the New Testament every morning and every evening, and then led in a prayer as we knelt down as a family. Rarely did we go off to bed before he would lead us in this devotional. He cared for our Spiritual discipline in Scripture and prayer, setting an example for us as Mom would help keep it orderly, which was not usually a problem. We realized it was a normal part of our daily life. He did not explain Scripture; he just read it, usually. He did not teach us to pray; he was just an example. It was something he believed in even though it must have taxed him after a day’s work and just before bed. But he never forgot, nor excused himself. Even when we came home from Bible study on Wednesday evenings we knelt to pray, perhaps skipping the reading; after all we had been to Bible study.

It is hard to pinpoint his ideas on the discipline of children. He assumed obedience, but it seems not to have been authoritarian or rigid. I can’t remember threats from him though it may have happened on occasion. Probably I did not often challenge his requests to do something. Certainly he spanked us sometimes, but I can really remember only once. It was when I was in the seventh grade; coming home from school one afternoon, they were nailing together curved rafters for a new shed. I was to help nail. It was not easy to nail those boards which were springy as we bent them to a curve. Probably I was grumbling about the difficulty of the job for me. Perhaps he was frustrated with whatever, or with my grumbling. I just remember he suddenly picked up some kind of whip and whipped me well. But I don’t recollect arbitrariness that we had to obey under the fear of discipline. He was usually rather easy-going and gentle, assuming we would comply.

It is likely a common phenomenon of memory that we remember the pleasant over the unpleasant, except when the negative was especially strong. So in these recollections I recall primarily my good relationships with my father rather than the bad times. It does seem however that my teen years coincided with the most stressful time of Dad’s life and my memories of kind relations are a bit dimmer than of earlier experiences. I sometimes did not feel affirmation when I needed it. The theme of church denomination is one which we differed and it is interesting how this was handled.

When I was 15 or 16, my close friend Vernon was planning to join the Conservative Mennonite Church. Not happy to join the Amish church of which both our parents were members, I agreed to join with him. I only told the family shortly before the first day of instruction in that church. My Dad was very surprised and disappointed. I don’t remember him disparaging that church and the only question I remember him using to dissuade me was, “Isn’t our church and the church of our forefathers good enough for you?” I don’t believe he threatened me in any way but strongly urged me not to go forward that way. It was not a long drawn out discussion and I doubt I argued much. I don’t think he ordered me not to. I don’t know what he would have done if I went ahead anyway. It was just not possible for me to go against his strong wishes.

I remember one time I challenged him on his reactions to my mother, apparently making some painful comments to her. I suggested an apology, something rare for me to suggest to him and equally rare for him to do explicitly. He responded that he expected she would know his change of heart by his actions. It was hard for him to express some feelings explicitly. In my teen years, I recall also standing at their bedroom door one late evening and telling my parents I wish I knew that they loved me. Again, they thought I would know by their actions rather than words.

Some months around the above incident, there was a time for instruction in Dad’s church of which he was bishop. I hesitated knowing that at baptism, the request is made to promise never to leave the church, meaning the Amish Church. I told Dad I was not happy to make that promise, feeling as I did about the Amish Church. He assured me that that promise should really mean a commitment to the church of Christ, not the denomination. With that understanding, I accepted baptism. It was a time of renewal in the church when regulations were shifting and I did my best to help along in changes. Once I asked him what I should say when my co-workers in the factory asked me why we wear beards. He half humorously said that those kinds of things are not at the heart of our beliefs. Later when I was away from the church in voluntary service, and did not wear the prescribed beard, he again in a humorous way would ask me if nothing grows on my chin, or something to that effect. It is hard to know whether he was not too serious about the rules he held up n the church, or whether he was just being kind to me his son. After we left the denomination about 12 years after baptism, it seems we just politely didn’t cross paths for what now seems an incredible length of time, about 6 months When he did come to our house after that, he asked rather shyly with a teasing smile, “Are you still my son?” He did not rebuke me nor do I ever remember that he expressed disappointment of our leaving. Certainly his relationship with that church was rather strained then and may have contributed to his accepting our leaving. But it was never a denominational thing that came between us that I can remember. He respected me and accepted me, trusting me to leave the path he had participated in all his life and walk responsibly in my chosen path.

Sometimes Dad confided to me things in his heart and memory that he could have kept to himself; that Mom had some preference for a girl when I was born; that he had convictions for overseas mission work before marriage, but it was too big a hurdle to perhaps need to leave the Amish church and attend to college; and Mom’s anxiety at some time later, perhaps at the pending birth of a child, the feeling that they had to go to the mission field. He just wanted to spill some secrets even as I find myself doing at times. To these deep feelings I was sometimes the confident.

In the 60’s there was an ordination for the ministry at our church. When I was not even a nominee among 7 others, he comforted me that perhaps those who voted for the successful candidate would likely have voted for me. He also gave be a beautiful affirmation of my sense of call. “I would like nothing more than that you would enter the Christian ministry”, he confided, something most unorthodox for an Amishman to say.

I remember his sadness when we left for Belize in 1986 and in subsequent times. He seemed always conscious that we might not meet again, though it was never expressed openly that I recall. I suppose there was usually a little hug and kiss as had been the practice whenever we parted in younger years. He was always telling stories of bygone days when we were back for vacations. Even after his stroke which hindered his short term memory, he would recall many things of bygone days. Especially interesting to us was his courtship with several women after my mother died. He was so candid and detailed I just had to record some of that at times.

One memory of some sadness remains for me. After he had the stroke and at times was not so rational, he stayed with us for a week one summer as we stayed on Marion Street in Elkhart. At first he did not want to go into the house with us but stayed in the car and on the sidewalk. But when a black man came along, he was persuaded to come in. Most of the time he was rational but rather glum, like we were holding him captive against his will. At one time he said very unkind words about me about how bad I was. I didn’t take it too personal as I understood his mental state. But it was sad because he was my Dad and he did not feel good toward me. His last years were marked by some depression, I believe, as he increasingly had to be dependent on his children and was loosing control of his life. He outlived his better days by a few years. One worker at the home where he spent his last weeks remarked, “That was not the Elam that I knew.” Nor the Dad I once had.

Many times in my memory from my childhood to his old age, it seems Dad treated me like I was special. Not that I was more special than my siblings, but that I was someone he cared about and gave particular attention to. He enjoyed me when I was a child. He lead me the best he could in my growing up years. He respected me above tradition in my mature years. It was not hard to forgive him in his fading years and accountability. In his negative comments on Marion Street, I assured him he was not responsible for his remarks. He insisted he was, to me only proving my point. Dad is now gone 23 years, but his memory will live in my mind as long as I have it. My life no doubt is a fulfillment of some of his dreams to serve the Lord locally or abroad, without the necessity of providing for himself as he sometimes lamented, detracting from ministry. Yes, Thank you Lord for the Dad that brought me into the world, led me, and showed me the way I should go. May I always pursue the path he set before me.

The Times I've Been Alone

I lay alone in a hospital bed,

Pain throbbing up to my head;

Those who served me did not feel

My aloneness, head to heal.

I stood alone in a crowded place,

Friendless, without elbow space;

Building walls with garlic breath,

A walking vacuum, much like death.

I ran alone in woods to hide,

Guilty was I- I cried;

Only God in heaven knew,

Cursed I felt for a tantrum I threw.

I stood alone in  a moral dare,

Would I steal without a care?

I couldn’t do the challenge to sin,

And so my conscience fenced me in.

I stayed alone in the family car,

Sand and sun, near and far;

The sun I had loved far too much,

My skin was burning to the touch.

I sulked alone outside the gates,

When all my friends were having dates;

No one heard me as I moaned,

Refused, dateless, all alone.

There seemed those who always had friends,

Through fault or fate, I met other ends.

Yet I often wondered how it would be,

If others could look through the eyes of ME.

                  For Conrad, February, 1975

(When I tried to write poetry for my son in 

  high school a few years back)

                                                        Pentecost Sunday

Today is Pentecost Sunday, 7 weeks after Easter when Jesus rose from the grave. Pentecost is when the Holy Spirit was given to usher in a new era when God pours out his Spirit for all his children. This was prophesied by the Prophet Joel in the Old Testament as Peter explained it on that Special day. It was the coming of the age which Jesus had promised would come when he leaves the disciples. In fact, he said it is good that he goes so that the Holy Spirit would come. (John 14-16) He, the Spirit, would teach his people “all things” which Jesus had come to introduce to the church age.

We clearly have three ages of holy history: The Old Testament with the law and the prophets, the Jesus era of the 4 Gospels where God became man to bring in a new covenant, and the The Acts of the Apostles which brings in the 3rd stage the age of God revealing his presence and will for his people by his Spirit. It is the permanent age until Jesus returns for the 4^th stage of heaven eternally.

Today most persons prefer to live by the book, the Bible, rather than recognize there is a revelation and living presence of God that is even more specific and relevant in the presence of the Spirit. The Bible is always the reference for understanding God's will for his people. But sometimes we need a “Word” of God that is even closer and more clearly accessible for the moment than the Book. Today we heard an example in a church service on this.

A man related how he and his 8 year old son were driving in Elkhart and saw a man pushing an older lady in a wheel chair on the side walk. The boy who seems exceptionally alert to the Spirit begged his father to stop so they could pray for the lady. The father complied and turned around and offered to pray for the lady. They learned she had been unable to walk for some time because of a leg injury in which a metal pin had been inserted from knee to hip. The lady and man had little faith in God for healing but permitted prayer. The boy was full of faith as the father prayed. When they had prayed they asked the lady to get up and walked. With help, she got on her feet. She walked for several rods painlessly, although earlier it was excruciating to walk even several steps and had given up hope.

The Spirit was present even with this small boy to show him that God would hear if they prayed. This was God's word present in the Holy Spirit. It was not an intellectual understanding of the Bible that this could be done. It was the experience of the Spirit that God would honor their faith and obedience and bring healing to this woman if they prayed.

How often do we need to hear from God where we can not go back to the Scripture for an answer! We often need an answer now as we stand before a need or crux of an issue. God's Spirit is now within us as his Living Word for us in every need. Certainly the Bible is full of information as background and sometimes extremely relevant in helping know God's will. But the Spirit is present in this third age of God's word, present, and will to “guide us in all truth “ as Jesus had promised. Probably all of us need to grow in hearing the Spirit, trust God within us, and with faith to follow God's leading continually and specifically.

                                                       Where Is God?

                                                (When Tragedy Strikes)

In the face of tragic loss, we likely will turn to these questions: where is God, and where was God when this happened?  If we are at all realistic, we may even feel it is a preposterous matter to even understand where God was then, and what where he is standing now, or what he wants us to think about our situation. We feel it is only honest to believe that it all just doesn't make sense. That God's purposes are beyond our comprehension. And so we feel we must move ahead without understanding  just where God is, or was in the unfolding of our tragedy.

Even more for me to set this up as to our typical response may seem like there are alternative ways of thinking to which I have some insights. No, I do not have answers for the whole  thing of meaning of tragedies. I cannot guess what God's purposes are. I may even wonder if he has an overarching or specific purpose in tragedy. Like, why was my oldest nephew killed in a car accident soon after his 18^th birthday when his life was just unfolding? Why did God let it happen? We tried to make sense, like some good must come out of it or it wouldn't have happened. We grasped for meaning, but I still have no good and satisfying answer for that loss.

Perhaps another focus may be to ask where is God now as he sees our grief. How does he feel about it? What does he want us to know about him at this point? One would think we just have to use our imagination and creative thinking if we have any at all. I like to think of another tragedy, the greatest of all time in history, and think of what God was feeling and thinking in that unfolding. How did God feel when he saw his own son hanging and left to die on that instrument of death, the cross? God so loved the world, that he went through that intense suffering of seeing his son suffer and die. If God made us in his image in many ways, which I assume, then he likely was weeping streams of tears, rolling down his cheeks and flooding heaven and earth. Still letting it happen for Jesus to suffer. It was the nature of things that evil causes pain excruciatingly. God accepted it, and cried his heart out.

But we may wonder, why did God tolerate our tragedy? Here we go out into further understanding of God's love, which we can never fully understand, but we just see glimpses of it in a hundred ways. His love is so tolerant that he allows people to flourish for a long time before justices rules. But that hardly explains why his children suffer innocently in traffic accidents. We also see the fact that in his creative natures that he has endowed man with ingenuity, so that man can create things that are bigger than himself and that can recoil back on him, destroying him because he can not guarantee his own safety using what he has created. Would we wish we did not have this creative capacity to create what potentially can harm us? We could find many such examples of destructive capacities of our creativity.

I do not presume to have the full understanding of what I am searching for. I am just pushing out in my mind not so much of why we are not saved from tragedies, as how tragedies happen and how God feels with us when they do. I do not know whether my own mind wondering would satisfy me if I was looking at this from within the situation rather than from without. Perhaps I am still searching for answers which I somewhat  depreciated when I began this writing.  One thing I believe with my whole heart. God knows and feels with us. He is just that close. That may give us courage and strength to go on in our new life after tragedy strikes.

                        From the Heart and Mind of Noah

                                             Blogs at noahhochstetler.blogspot.com

Over the past 3 years, more than 100 blogs have been posted, largely thoughts that ruminated in my mind at any given time. They are on many subjects, appearing in rather random order. I can easily imagine some reader came on one by chance and found it less than of a personal interest. So here I am posting an index with groupings on similar subjects and with dates on each one so they can be found by date, thus enabling a reader to go for the subject and particular blog of interest.

Why Write and have a Blog? 3-10-13

1. Love, What It Is To Me

To Like and To Love 5-1-13

New Love and Old Love 3-5-13

When You Really Love A Person 3-8-13

Feelings About Four Sons 5-27-13

Healing Love. The Kingdom of Heaven is Like.... 7-8-13

I Do Miss Her 10-1-13

Love Reflections 7-10-13

Little Tyreck 4-1-13

Loving with Heart and/or Mind 11-21-14

2. Biography, Who Was I?

Stories Of My Early Childhood 4-1-13

A Trip East When I Was Young 5-1-13

Me and Daudy 6-10-13

Me and Daniel 3-18-14

Me and My Mother 9-4-14

Me and Dad 8-6-13

Me and Brother Norman 7-14-13

My Youth Years 16-20 8-29-14

3. Dealing With Wealth- What Do You Do With All That Stuff?

The Christian and The World's Poor 1-16-14, also on 2-6-13

One of My Dad's Hobby Horses 8-26-14

Toward a Philosophy of Distributing This World's Goods 5-1-13

Giving to The Poor, Biblical and Cultural Reservations 5-27-13

To Family Members, A Report of Visiting Belize, 2013 3-13-13

What Is My Worst Sin? (To Hate) 7-14-13

So You Are Looking For Channels To Help The Needy 9-26-14

4. Humor- What's So Funny About That?

Shopping- Creativity Out Of Boredom 3-6-13

People Are Like Animals? 4-1-13

Some Things I Believe About a Woman But I Am Not Sure They Are True 3-27-14

Forgive Me Again, But... 7-23-13

I Am A Scrounger 1-13-14

5. From Icons of My Life, A Celebration of Seventy Years

Seventy Blessings of My Life 5-1-13

Seventy Highlights Of My Life 3-8-14

Seventy Things I Never Did and Probably Never Will

Seventy Things For Which Life Is Too Short 6-15-13

Seventy Things I Want To Do In My Remaining days 10-16-13

Seventy Things I Still Wonder About 11-4-13

Seventy Characters and Traits in our Family 11-18-14

6. Inspiration- What Urges Us To Continue?

The Cost and Rewards of Discipleship In Mission In Belize 3-5-13

We Met Angels In Mexico 5-2-13

Three Views of Culture 5-1-13

My First Glimpses of Heaven 6-10-13

What Is Heaven Like In My Mind? 3-6-13

My Dreams 8-10-13

Our Center of Life 34-28-14

Love Your Neighbor As Yourself 3-5-13

The Life of Plants 1-6-16

The Proverbs of Noah 5-27-13

The Kingdom Is Close, But... 4-1-13

David and Kingdom Life 4-29-14

God Was There 8-12-16

Let the Glory of God Fill This Room 12-18-16

It's The Christmas Season 12-18-14

7. Worship, Who and How We Worship

God, Our Loving Creator 3-5-13

The Sacredness of Nature 5-1-13

God's Appreciation For the Aesthetic 10-7-14

How Is God With Us? 8-27-13

Is Our God Too Great For Us? 2-29-14

The God of Intimacy

A Call To Care and Pray 10-26-13

A Call To Pray 12-9-14

What Is Our Devotional and Worship Emphasis? 11-4-14

What Does It Cost? 2-1-15

Our Focus on Prayer- Intercession 2-13-15

“We are Special” 5-5-15

How Does God Feel? 9-30-16

What Contrasts! 3-27-15

The Life of Plants 10-27-15

8. Getting Older- What Else Do You Expect?

Introduction To Aging Reflections

Aging Ideas, What Do They Call The Decades 10-4-13

What Is Different Being Seventy 10-4-13

Too Much Help? 4-1-13

How Bad Will It Be? 10-4-13

I Live Cautiously 10-4-13

At Our House 4-1-13

What Am I Doing? 3-6-13

9. Various Writings

Epic Similes From Belize 5-1-13

Epic Similes After Belize 4--1-13

Science and The Bible 10-15-13

Christian Stewardship as Taught in Belize 1-4-14

Our Present Relationships with Belizeans 3-`4-14

Reflections On My Leavings and Longings 9-14-14

A Drive into the Country Yesterday 5-18-15

10. Videos from YouTube
11. Don't Blink by Kenny Chesney 7-24-13

Chuck Stoner Visits Nicaragua 7-10-13

Micheal's Children Home Singing 12-13-14

Angelina Jolie Left Speechless 1-28-15

                                             Let the Glory of God Fill This Room

Last month one evening after I was in bed, I received a call from Hospice Care requesting my help. They had a need for someone to sit with a woman in a nursing home a few miles from our home. They were asking for relief for a family member, between 12 and 6am that night. Would I consent to go and sit with that woman for two hours of my choice. Never having gone to any hospice need at that hour, somewhat oddly, I consented. Anyway I often awake sometime in that time block.

About 3 A.M. I woke up, dressed and prepared to go shortly before 4, the hour scheduled. I took the shortest route suggested on Yahoo, although it was thru off-roads I have never traveled. When I arrived there, the nurse led me to the room where an elderly woman was in bed. She was not at all conversant; I don't even know if she knew I was there as I introduced myself. She was lying on her back, breathing laboriously with each breath as with considerable effort.

What could I do for her? I did not even know her, never having met any family of hers either. I could sit there, or what? So I stood there and prayed for her. I had to follow my “instincts” in knowing how to pray. Would it even make any difference how I prayed? So I prayed that God would be gracious to her and prepare her heart to meet him, forgiving her for anything that might still be lingering her departure. What else I prayed for, I am not clear on by now. It seemed like a holy moment with somehow God present there in this meeting of mystery with this unknown woman. I concluded my prayer with an unlikely conclusion for me: Let the glory of God fill this room!

I sat down, perhaps for the first time since I had come there. I glanced down and read a short page of a magazine I had with me. I had been in the room with the woman about 25 minutes. When I looked up, I saw the woman was totally calm, quiet, deathly quiet. I waited and she did not move again. She was gone. I found her nurse who came and affirmed that she was gone and there was nothing more for me to do or remain there.

When I checked the obituary later, I learned she was a member of a church close to our home. And that she had worked at Faith Mission in town as a “cashier” as staff. Why I was called there to preside over her home-going, only God really knows. It seems I was to prepare her for her transition to her next life. God led me to pray for her release, I believed, what ever was still needed. Why I was needed for that, again only God knows. It was a holy experience, at 4:00 A.M.