Sane Family Practices: The Sabbath Hour

Last night a few minutes before 8:00pm Gleny, our almost-12-year-old fireball with her frizzy hair all out of place and clunking about in her rather large, black rain boots to accompany her pajamas, laughed hysterically as she came out of the bathroom. It was one of those sincere laughs that rattles your whole being, almost violent with joy as she confessed through loud, sincere bursts, “Ok! Good night, Ma and Pa — this time it’s for real…”

She clunked right past us in her big ole rubber boots, her body still convulsing joyfully, and entered the bedroom she shares with two of her older sisters. As the curtain closed silently behind her, so, too, our entire cinderblock home became enveloped in an immediate silence.

Biting my lip and holding back a similar belly laugh that Gleny herself had experienced only moments prior, I looked over at my husband as we both sat on our living room couch, each with a book in hand — reading as much as serving as our home’s watchful vigilantes.

You see, about four or five months ago we instituted the “Sabbath Hour” in our home every night. Well, every night except Fridays, that is. At 7:15pm everyone enters their bedroom — teeth already brushed, showers already completed, all conversations already had — and our entire household enters into total silence. No laughing, no idle chit-chatting, no running about.

The general rule is this: we don’t want to hear you; we don’t want to see you. If you want to stay up until the wee hours of the morning reading, drawing, praying, etc — that is fine. If you go to bed immediately upon entering the Sabbath Hour, that is fine. But at 7:15pm everyone will be tucked away in their room, and we will rest.

So many months ago we got this idea from Danny Silk’s book Loving Our Kids on Purpose. In the book the author calls this idea “Room Time,” but we have changed the name in our household because our kids didn’t like the original name. While this daily routine of silence is a healthy exercise for our kids (after having spent the entire day in constant activity playing, learning, interacting with other people, etc, they have a designated, protected time each evening to rest emotionally and spiritually, seek God in His Word, etc), it is even healthier for the parents. (Alas, perhaps we should have named it “The Sanity Hour!”)

So with dogged persistence and undeterred consistency Darwin and I have established and protected our family’s Sabbath Hour as if our life depended on it (because it does!), and those neighbors of ours who occasionally call in the evenings even know that they must do so before we enter the Sabbath Hour because after 7:15pm we don’t receive calls.

Despite the many (many) times our kids have tried to persuade us to push the hour back (or do away with it altogether — it’s so hard not to talk, laugh, and jump around noisily when you’ve got really fun roommates!), by God’s grace we have continued onward, respecting and protecting the Sabbath Hour for many months now. (Oh, how many times even during that blessed Sabbath Hour have one or two of our kids daringly opened their curtains and come out to the living room or knocked on our bedroom door to try to reel me in to their love trap, putting on cute faces and trying to get me to solve this or that problem or do any number of things that could have been done earlier that afternoon! I merely say lovingly, “Now is not the time. You should have told me that earlier. Now it’s the Sabbath Hour. I love you so much. Good night!”)

So what happens when we hear a loud shriek of laughter or some little voice is heard chit-chatting when all should be silent after 7:15pm? Darwin and I call the perpetrator(s) calmly, hand them a couple plastic grocery bags, and send them outside with a flashlight to pick up a few dog poops. And if that doesn’t do the trick, we send them out again to sweep the three rather large porches on our fenced-in rural property. Then, they re-enter their room and resume the Sabbath Hour.

Last night as we reached the blessed 7:15pm mark, warm bedtime hugs were given and everyone was herded toward their bedroom. Door curtains opened to let in their inhabitants and then dropped closed behind them. “The Sabbath Hour starts on the count of three! 1, 2, 3…”

All became quiet.

I grabbed Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts and headed for our living room couch in my pajamas to read, a rare treat that can only be enjoyed during the Sabbath Hour.

The only overpowering noise heard in our entire house was the water falling from the shower in our bathroom as Darwin bathed (and in our house, you can hear everything. If someone coughs at the other end of the house, you can hear it). I contemplated my own breath peacefully entering and exiting my nostrils, such a small noise that during cacophonous hours is easily overlooked. The creaking of beds, soft footsteps across bedroom floors, the quiet rustling of books and papers, and the opening of a dresser drawer. The sound of Legos building upon one another as Josue played in his bed not five yards from where I sat. Our dogs, too, respected the Sabbath Hour as they lazily sprawled out on our porch, thankful for another day well spent.

A few moments later, Darwin came to join me on the couch, Bible in hand.

Fifteen minutes or so passed in total silence as we read, breathed. Then, unexpectedly, a few little whispers started. As any parent knows, when children are involved, a whisper can turn into a full-out hullaballoo faster than you can say “Sabbath Hour,” so Darwin and I looked at each other, eyebrows arched, and I motioned for him to go investigate the situation.

He got up from our little multi-colored couch as his even words declared for our whole little house to hear, “Ok, those who were whispering, come on out. I’ll get the plastic bags.”

A couple moments passed before Dayana, our 15-year-old daughter who quite proudly holds the title of “eldest,” suddenly appeared in our living room from the other side of her bedroom curtain, a small grin taking over her face as she knew she had been caught red-handed. She had on her pajamas with her big, curly hair going in all directions. I made eye contact with her and couldn’t help but smile.

Darwin then came out of our room with a couple plastic bags in hand as almost-12-year-old Gleny suddenly burst on the scene behind her elder sister, laughing hysterically as she slipped on her big ole rubber boots.

Darwin in monotone: “Three poops each.”

Gleny, laughing and eyeing her older sister: “Like three little droplets?”

Me (knowing she was trying to find a loophole and pick up three little droplets that were all part of the same overall poo): “No. Three whole poops. We love you guys.”

The sisters groaned good-naturedly, Dayana with flashlight in hand, and soon enough they were walking out the front door. Gleny turned around, trying to engage us in some last-minute joke or silly pre-teen commentary, but I answered, “Gleny, it’s the Sabbath Hour. See you soon.”

So about 10 or 15 minutes later we heard a knock at our front door accompanied by some giggles, and Darwin answered.

Their triumphant declaration: “We’ve got the poops!”

So they went, threw them away in our outside trash barrel, and came in, now (mostly) in silence as Gleny still wrestled with intense laughter. They washed their hands in the bathroom, and then were off to their room.

That was when Gleny confessed through a big grin and burst of giggles, “Ok! Good night, Ma and Pa — this time it’s for real…”

 

Amen! Glory to God for the precious Sabbath Hour!

August 2016 Updates and Prayer Requests

High School Students Studying Ted Dekker’s Historical-Based Novel “30 A.D.” About the Life of Jesus

A couple months ago Miss Ligia (our high school teacher) and I began reading Ted Dekker’s novel “30 A.D.” with our thirteen 7th-grade students. The majority of our students had never read an entire book before on any subject (most schools here do not assign books to read nor is reading in general a common pastime for most Hondurans), so tackling a 398-paged historical novel with teens who read on a very low reading level has been quite the task. The book itself is phenomenal, and although several of the students have struggled mightily to develop the discipline of actually reading the chapters and the mental capacity to understand the content, it has been a very rewarding experience enriched with discussions, quizzes, group work, etc, as we seek to deepen our knowledge and love of Christ with our local students. After our students finish the novel at the end of the month we have missionary biographies prepared for them to read!

 

Prayer Needed for Gabriela’s Intense Emotional Needs

I am very humbly asking for prayer for Gabriela (nicknamed ‘Gaby’) and for my attitude towards her. She has been living with us a little over a year, and we’ve decided to say she’s eight years old (although it’s very likely she’s 9, 10 or 11 because no one knows how old she really is), but mentally and emotionally she is on the level of a three-year-old.

She is by far the most emotionally demanding of all of our children, and I get drained very quickly in her presence as she is extremely clingy, wants to be held constantly, wets her pants and her bed nearly every day/night, struggles when I pay attention to the other kids (or when I try to do any other task), and behaves as a toddler would although physically she is a big kid and has already begun wearing a training bra. Her personality in general is very loud, repetitive and annoying, so most of our other kids do not actively spend time with her, leaving me as one of her only loving companions (besides special-needs Josue who is her best friend).

I have begun talking and praying with her extensively about the fact that only God can fill her emotional void; I love her and God utilizes me in her life to show her His love and affection, but I alone will never be enough to fill her up.

Please pray with me that this message would penetrate into her heart and that she would earnestly seek God as her eternal Father, for He is the only One who truly satisfies. Please pray for me also, as being Gaby’s mom is an extremely exhausting affair (although an incredible blessing); pray that the Lord would grant me the patience, unconditional love and energy to love her the way Jesus does. I feel hounded almost constantly by guilt because I simply do not have the superhuman strength to attend to all of her emotional needs to the extent that she wants, and I sense that she oftentimes feels rejected by me. Please pray that God would liberate me of these feelings of guilt and replace them with trust in Him.

 

Legal Progress Report: Documents from 2011-2015 Finally Processed, Approved (!)

After having compiled and trying to submit a rather extensive portfolio of legal documents, photos, letters, etc, to the capital’s government office in Tegucigalpa since 2014, we were notified about two weeks ago that everything finally went through and we are in good standing with the government after quite a bit of organizational confusion that occurred when the leadership of the Living Waters Ranch was transferred from Teresa Devlin (the founder) to my husband and me in 2012.

We thank and praise God for this great news (and huge relief!) that we are finally up-to-date and have been accepted/recognized by the government as a legally operated NGO (non-profit) who fulfills the national requirements. Praise God!

 

Prayer for Ongoing Insomnia

Several years have passed and I still struggle each night with insomnia, sleeping about 2-5 hours per night. I’m exhausted to the bone and frequently struggle with irritability toward those around me. It seems like several times per day I have to humble myself and go ask forgiveness from those who were the victims of my snappy attitude or impatience.

Please pray that God would give me the perseverance and energy to continue to fulfill His will and that I may be granted deep, restorative sleep so that I may be an increasingly useful instrument in His hands.

 

Miss Martha to Rest from Chronic Pains

Miss Martha, our beloved sister in Christ in her late 50s who serves alongside of us at the Living Waters Ranch as the cook, literacy teacher and nurse, notified us last week that she has made the difficult decision to stop serving at the Ranch and spend a season resting at home due to several chronic pains she has been struggling with for many months. The work at the Ranch is very physical – a lot of walking between buildings, bending over, carrying things, playing with kids, etc, and due to the intense pains in her left leg, one of her hands, and her neck/arms, she feels that she can no longer continue in the work. We love her dearly and will continue to see her every Tuesday as she plans on continuing her participation in the ‘Christian Leadership’ class.

Please pray with us for her healing and that the Lord would continue the good work that He has begun in her.

 

Much Time Consumed Each Week with Trips to Local Government Offices

Although we are up-to-date with the capital offices in Tegucigalpa, there are many smaller, local government branches that have different requirements that organizations like ours must fulfill, so in the last few weeks Darwin’s and my time has been largely consumed with waiting in said government offices, turning in paperwork, having meetings, etc, in addition to the many daily hands-on tasks with our kids and students. We’ve been going to the Social Security Office, Board of Education, and several others (I’m not sure how they would translate in English) in somewhat exhausting/frustrating circles as we’re trying to jump through the many required hoops to ensure that we are legally covered in every possible respect should anyone come and bring accusations or complaints (such attitudes of accusation and of wanting to see others fall is very common here and can be very dangerous). Several nights recently Darwin has not gotten home until 7:00 or 8:00pm after having been away all day jumping said hoops.

Please pray with us that all these errands, etc, would not distract from the purpose God has given us to proclaim His Word and invest in the lives of the children/youth for His glory, and that we would be able to meet all the requirements quickly and efficiently.

 

Coming Up On 1-Year Anniversary with Nightwatchman’s Family

Next month will mark one year of living in relationship with the family of our nightwatchman at the Living Waters Ranch. By God’s grace we have been able to develop a very healthy relationship with them as we serve one another for God’s glory. Four of their kids are in our elementary school as they are learning to read, write and do basic math along with their participation in Bible study, choir, various after-school ‘clubs’, etc, and the nightwatchman’s wife helps serve in our kitchen and cleaning a few days per week. During this almost-one-year that our watchman has been doing his rounds each night with a flashlight, we haven’t had any robberies.

Please continue to pray with us for our relationship with this family and that our Father may continue to grow us all up in love, wisdom and Truth as we serve one another as neighbors for His glory.

Unlikely Disciples

A few weeks ago we began offering an optional “Christian Leadership” class on Tuesday afternoons for those students and laborers who wish to stay a bit late after their morning academic classes and deepen their walk with Christ.

We had the handwritten sign-up flyer taped to the external wall of our Education Building during the days leading up to the first class, and I was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few names scribbled on the list. There would be no credits given for the class, and, moreover, the other after-school classes being offered – sports, art, music, cooking class, and math club – honestly presented a glossier, more alluring attraction to the majority of the students than another class about Jesus. I mean, all of our students already spend several hours each week in Bible study, praise and worship, and organized prayer groups. What teen or pre-teen previously accustomed to very little spiritual direction would voluntarily sign up for more?

On the morning of the first class I glanced at the sign-up sheet again, and to my surprise many of the names had been carefully covered up with white-out! The brightest students – and honestly those whom I’m closest to and who participate most in our twice-weekly Bible studies – had erased their own names from the list! I sighed and read the names that remained: generally lazy trouble-makers – bad students! – who I have to constantly reel in during Bible study! How could this be? Why on earth would they sign up for an intensive Christian leadership course while the others backed out last-minute? Why didn’t those wily, disobedient students just sign up for cooking class and sports club? Is this some kind of joke?

I headed to our bedroom, quite disappointed and wondering why so many students backed out last-minute. I gathered my teaching materials from our wooden bookshelf and began heading over to the 7th-grade classroom where I would hold the class. In passing I commented to my husband sarcastically: “Ha! Stanley [a 15-year-old 7th grade student who has a long record with us of disrespect, laziness, sexist jokes and general immaturity] signed up for Christian Leadership! And he’s constantly goofing off in Bible study. Why would he sign up for the class? I think he got confused with the sign-up sheets.¨

As soon as those venomous words came spewing out of my mouth I bit my lip, already regretting having said all that I did (or rather, having thought it in the first place).

So I exited through our front door, repentant for my judgment of Stanley and determined to ask God for a better perspective – His perspective. As I took the ten or eleven steps to reach our Education Building, Charlie, a very small 13-year-old in 7th grade (who also has a long history of clowning around, not passing his exams, etc), came running up to me and asked if it was too late to sign up for Christian Leadership.

I smiled warmly – Charlie had been in Darwin’s and my prayer group that morning – and told him we would be entering in 5 minutes and that he was welcome to join us.

I guided the 5 students who had signed up for Christian Leadership over to our kitchen to serve them rice and beans, and from there they carried their plastic bowls with them over to the classroom where we would be having our class.

Miraculously, rebellious Stanley had not slipped out our front gate unnoticed, escaping his commitment to the class. He was right there with the others, face unusually bright and open. I suppose I had still hoped that he had signed up for the wrong after-school class and would be erasing his name from the list as so many others had already done.

We entered the empty classroom, everything swept and cleaned – smelling of a strong yet pleasing cleaning liquid – after our 7th grade students had collaborated only a few minutes earlier to clean at the end of their schoolday.

Everyone sat down as we formed a tight semi-circle out of the desks, moving aside those that remained empty so as to create a sense of greater unity and less distraction. Miss Martha, our 56-year-old nurse and cook, came in, as she had also written her name on the sign-up sheet. A few moments later 22-year-old Miss Isis and 29-year-old Miss Ligia, our elementary and secondary teachers, also entered the class, eager to learn.

As Spanish praise and worship music played softly over the CD player – at times barely audible as the rains intensified over the tin roof of our Education Building – I considered the motley crew of eager disciples Jesus had chosen for this class: a woman in the autumn years of her life, a young single mom, a lawyer who left the world behind to take a low-paying job teaching troublesome rural teens for God’s glory, four teen boys (all of which are not generally classified as ‘good students’ and who have had their share of behavioral struggles with us), our 12-year-old daughter Josselyn (who had just entered third grade this past week after passing second grade with flying colors), and myself.

My mind listed about five or six names of students who would have been perfect for this class – those who actively participate in Bible study, those who actually show some interest in knowing God and obeying Him. Where were they?!

I sort of looked around, stupefied, waiting for at least one or two of the boys to stand up and leave once they realized this was a Christian Leadership class. No fun art projects; no tasty cooking experiments; no high-energy relays or trips to the local soccer field. Just the Bible, an open heart, a large whiteboard in front of us, and a journal for each person.

No one moved, not even Stanley.

My eyes met 15-year-old Brayan’s, our beloved prodigal son who is in fifth grade for the fourth time.  Brayan – Brayan!, that now-almost-as-tall-as-me man child who lived with us for eight months a couple years ago, whom I used put to sleep at night, whom I read Lion King picture books to, who has the affectionate needs of a small boy, who can’t seem to ever ´get his act together´ and get on schedule with his homework assignments, who spends his free time wandering aimlessly around our rural neighborhood, who can´t seem to maintain a respectful attitude toward his step-mother, who even recently got mixed up in some bad decision-making – who even now, almost two years after having moved out of our home, still calls me “Ma” – this Brayan! – wants to learn to be a leader for Christ.

I get it, Father. They’re all here on purpose – You’ve carefully chosen each one and placed them here for a reason – and no one is leaving.

Your plans are always better than mine, Father.

With a big, genuine smile and an ‘okay-then!’ attitude, I let out a small laugh that probably only I understood and began displaying several brightly-colored notebooks on one of the desks in the middle so that each person would come and grab one.

The Spanish worship music continued in its majesty; rain trickled overhead, then pounded, then trickled again.

The Bible verse I scribbled in large print across the whiteboard that first class was this: ¨Anyone who claims to be intimate with God ought to live the same kind of life Jesus lived.¨ (1 John 2:6)

From there, everyone participated as they called out different aspects of the way Jesus lived. Perfect obedience to God, joy in the midst of difficulties, did not love money or seek happiness/security in it, willingness to suffer, did not consider this world to be His home, etc. I listened as I wrote frantically with arrows spouting out from the large-written verse, trying to keep up with all that was being said.

Then one of the teen boys mentioned with confidence, ¨Jesus spent time with the tax collectors, prostitutes, and the ´bad´ people – drug lords and thieves. He wasn´t scared of them, nor did He judge them.¨

Another one of the boys perked up, familiar with this teaching that we had all studied together in our community Bible study several months prior and added enthusiastically: ¨He came not for the ´good´ people but for the ´bad´ — those that recognize that they are bad, that is. We are all murderers, after all. He came to heal the sick – those that recognize they need a savior – and not for those who try to justify themselves!¨

As my long arm extended toward the whiteboard, instinctively trying to keep up with their right-on proclamations of the way Jesus lived, it hit me hard and clear: that´s why God has brought together such a motley crew of disciples for this class. These are the kids who recognize they need more of God; they are the ones who perhaps best associate with the God-man who sought out the lost, the robbers, the ‘bad guys’.

These are the same kinds of young men Jesus would have probably hand-picked to walk with Him 2,000 years ago.

I’m so foolish in my quick judgments and human standards!

Now I get it, Father. Thank you for revealing Your wisdom to the most unlikely.

Oh, throughout this year we had been so consumed with looking for ‘good students’, with finding bright youth from our neighborhood – those that display some real sense of leadership capability, those who already have good habits, fairly respectable personal hygiene and some pinch of academic work ethic. But the whole time our Father has been preparing the vagabonds – the ´bad´ teens, those that are a step or two away from falling into the gangs – to take hold of His Word with faith and be trained up willingly to go out and make more disciples for His glory.

So we continued onward with an attitude of great joy, mine rooted in deep thanksgiving, as we held dynamic discussions and participated in communal prayer.

We finished the class by reading the entire book of 1 John, which I believe none of the participants had previously read. Each person grabbed a Bible as some sprawled out on the tile floor to read while others remained in their desks or stood quietly by the open windows to take God’s Word in their hands and meditate.

The peace among us was so strong; a great calm overtook the room as soft sunlight poured in, the rain still trickling overhead, each person silently absorbing the great hope we have in a God who loves us enough to not give up on us, who goes so far as to die for our redemption, liberating us from the punishment we deserve. The rest of the world carried on with its business (busyness): our kids and students passing by the front porch, Darwin giving piano classes in an adjacent room, others involved in cleaning projects or group homework assignments or pick-up soccer games on the damp front lawn as God silently, efficiently, made His will known to each of His unlikely disciples.

That was four weeks ago; every Tuesday afternoon since then we have continued to meet, to open the Word together and learn what it means to submit ourselves to God’s will to such an extent that we become useful instruments in His hands, leaders to reach the nations with the Truth. Three additional students, also very unlikely disciples, have since joined our class as we continue onward with great hope that He will transform us – we who would be the last to be chosen for any great task the World could assign! – into powerful instruments in the Living God’s hands.

Amen! Glory to God!

Art Club Kick-Off with Miss Ligia

A couple Fridays ago ‘Art Club’ commenced under the enthusiastic direction of Miss Ligia, our beloved secondary teacher who continues to brave the untravelled ‘classroom’ waters. She had studied and practiced law prior to taking the rather large leap earlier this year to begin practicing a different kind of justice — the taming of 13 unruly teenagers with God’s love.

In addition to being the full-time 7th grade teacher, she has taken on the role of leading the weekly ‘Art Club,’ and the class’ kick-off a couple Fridays ago went phenomenally well. After organizing an in-class lesson on the primary and secondary colors, etc (a very basic topic but one that is unknown to the majority of youth from our rural neighborhood as they have never taken even an introductory art class before), she grabbed the white t-shirts, fabric paint and brushes and headed out to our front lawn with her Art Club participants to spend the afternoon decorating t-shirts (which will then be used as their ‘uniform’ for the club each Friday). Oh, and I believe there was some kind of glitter-filled balloon trap hanging from the ceiling of the classroom to begin the whole activity. Way to go, Miss Ligia!

Enjoy the photos several of our younger kids and I took during the first Art Club meeting…

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Miss Ligia and Darwin in our front yard with a few of the Art Club students painting t-shirts at one of our concrete tables

 

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Miss Ligia with Arnold, a 13-year-old student from our rural neighborhood who participates in our 7th-grade discipleship program, piano classes with Darwin, and several of our new extracurricular clubs

 

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Four of our boys as they plan how to decorate their t-shirts

 

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Our 15-year-old daughter Dayana with local students Stanley and Sindy as all three paint t-shirts during their first Art Club meeting

 

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12-year-old Dariela, a glitter-covered local student

 

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Watch out, Miss Ligia! The girls are coming for you!

 

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It looks like Miss Ligia has been fully initiated into Art Club! Nice face markings!

 

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18-year-old Exson, a very artistic young man from our rural neighborhood who participates in our high school program

 

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I don’t know who’s comin’ for who; both Miss Ligia and Cristian look like they’re up to no good! I bet paint is involved!

 

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This was the shirt 13-year-old Elalf painted. It reads “God is love” with a lamb in the top corner.

 

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Our 9-year-old son Jason took this photo and several others as he camped out in the truck-bed of our parked car. He’s pretty good paparazzi!

 

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14-year-old Arlen, a local students we’ve known almost three years, as he poses with his newly-painted t-shirt


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Clean-up time!

 

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Our 11-year-old daughter Gleny as she greets her older sister who just got finished with Art Club

 

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Time for everybody to head home! See you Monday, Miss Martha!

 

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See you on Monday, Charlie and Arnold!

 

Amen! Glory to God!