The Stanford Prison Experiment, conducted Aug. 14, 1971- Aug. 20, 1971, funded by the US Office of Naval Research, and led by Psychology professor Phillip Zimbardo is a notable case study in the "crowd," or "mob" psychology.
The setting?
The basement of the Stanford psychology building.
The main finding?
Even "normal", well-adjusted individuals can turn into monsters given the proper circumstances.
The experiment, set to last a period of 7 to 14 days, had to be cut short by the 6th day due to the latent sadistic tendencies elicited from within the guards, and the mental anguish that many of the prisoners were experiencing.
Overall, the findings turned my stomach, and provided much insight into just how inhumanely human beings can treat each other, and into the psychology of the "mob."
Here is Phillip Zimbardo expounding upon the intricacies of the experiment.
FAQs concerning the experiment.
Epilogue...what happened?
This was equally as eye opening as it was gut-wrenching and disturbing.
I have something else to present, but it is not yet ready.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Spring Cleaning.
Ezekiel 45: 7-25
Ezekiel 44: 1-3
Ezekiel 46: 1-18
After reading the book and realizing that I will be blessed with a nice parcel of land, I stared out the window into the night sky and asked the Lord if I could build a baseball park on it.
The very next day, while driving around parts unknown (to me), running an errand with a friend of mine, I got my answer.
As the vehicle continued down the road on our way back, I happened to look up and over to my left and saw a sign, as clear as day on the wood panel fence to a local farm.
It read "Field of Dreams."
I knew it was a baseball movie, but I had yet to see it.
I watched it, and I was blown away.
It was conclusive enough of an answer for me.
Next, I've taken up some late-spring cleaning.
Jettisoning some junk and garbage from my life was absolutely necessary.
On another note, I wanted to delve further into 1 Corinthians chapter 12, which deals with distinct spiritual gifts. Facebook and limited characters does not allow for extended or in-depth looks at certain things.
The passage reads:
"1) Now concerning spiritual gifts, brothers, I do not want you to be uninformed.
2) You know that when you were pagans you were led astray to mute idols, however you were led.
3) Therefore I want you to understand that no one speaking in the Spirit of God ever says “Jesus is accursed!” and no one can say “Jesus is Lord” except in the Holy Spirit.
Ezekiel 44: 1-3
Ezekiel 46: 1-18
After reading the book and realizing that I will be blessed with a nice parcel of land, I stared out the window into the night sky and asked the Lord if I could build a baseball park on it.
The very next day, while driving around parts unknown (to me), running an errand with a friend of mine, I got my answer.
As the vehicle continued down the road on our way back, I happened to look up and over to my left and saw a sign, as clear as day on the wood panel fence to a local farm.
It read "Field of Dreams."
I knew it was a baseball movie, but I had yet to see it.
I watched it, and I was blown away.
It was conclusive enough of an answer for me.
Next, I've taken up some late-spring cleaning.
Jettisoning some junk and garbage from my life was absolutely necessary.
On another note, I wanted to delve further into 1 Corinthians chapter 12, which deals with distinct spiritual gifts. Facebook and limited characters does not allow for extended or in-depth looks at certain things.
The passage reads:
Spiritual Gifts
"1) Now concerning spiritual gifts, brothers, I do not want you to be uninformed.
2) You know that when you were pagans you were led astray to mute idols, however you were led.
3) Therefore I want you to understand that no one speaking in the Spirit of God ever says “Jesus is accursed!” and no one can say “Jesus is Lord” except in the Holy Spirit.
4) Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit;
5) and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord;
5) and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord;
6) and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone.
7) To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.
8) For to one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit,
9) to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit,
10) to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the ability to distinguish between spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues.
11) All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills.
11) All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills.
One Body with Many Members
12) For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.
13) For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.
14) For the body does not consist of one member but of many.
15) If
the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the
body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body.
16) And
if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the
body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body.
17) If
the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the
whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell?
18) But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose.
19) If all were a single member, where would the body be?
20) As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.
21) The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.”
22) On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable,
23) and
on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the
greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater
modesty,
24) which
our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the
body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it,
25) that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another.
26) If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.
27) Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.
28) And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healing, helping, administrating, and various kinds of tongues.
29) Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles?
30) Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak with tongues? Do all interpret?
31) But earnestly desire the higher gifts.
And I will show you a still more excellent way."
I just wanted to clarify that this was a call for unity, no matter what gifts or capacity God has blessed you with. We (Christians) are all one body, and we are all vital to the healthy functioning of his church.
Be blessed, and to God be the glory.
Also, I am still working on other topics to present.
They will be out when they are out.
Not a moment sooner.
This is going to be the longest 2 months of my life, and I cannot wait for it to be over.
I just wanted to clarify that this was a call for unity, no matter what gifts or capacity God has blessed you with. We (Christians) are all one body, and we are all vital to the healthy functioning of his church.
Be blessed, and to God be the glory.
Also, I am still working on other topics to present.
They will be out when they are out.
Not a moment sooner.
This is going to be the longest 2 months of my life, and I cannot wait for it to be over.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Now That the Poopstorm is Over...
and just about any ridiculous, preposterous thing has been said within the past week that has come to mind in a desperate, last-minute effort just to see what would stick, I carry on.
I hope you're not that vulnerable and mislead. I hope you understand the significance of the times that we live in, and are able to properly place this all into perspective.
1) After months of back and forth letters, phone calls, and re-directions (My last letter stated "If you cannot change the number of my license, please simply cancel my license altogether." I had had enough bureaucracy), I was told recently that no one had bothered to do it, but someone felt kind enough to let me know that fact. I'm sure it took about the same amount of effort. One would figure that it was sitting in a mail bin somewhere, not to be perpetually ignored. Even though I cut it up when I was told to, it's back to the drawing board on navigating the bureaucracy on getting this thing cancelled.
2) Contrary to what you may have heard, nothing short of surgical removal of the implant will do. Temporary treatment to render it inert and inactive will have to do until the legal process starts, and then I have persons of notoriety and integrity present to sign-off on the integrity of the actual operative process, stating that no funny business has transpired. That way, a lid is placed on the can of potential, tin-foil conspiracy theories.
I have more to say, but not now.
I am busy with the process.
In the meantime, a refresher:
Manufacturing Consent- Noam Chomsky
He may be a Lefty, and I disagree on a decent amount of his politics, but I learned quite a bit from him.
I hope you're not that vulnerable and mislead. I hope you understand the significance of the times that we live in, and are able to properly place this all into perspective.
1) After months of back and forth letters, phone calls, and re-directions (My last letter stated "If you cannot change the number of my license, please simply cancel my license altogether." I had had enough bureaucracy), I was told recently that no one had bothered to do it, but someone felt kind enough to let me know that fact. I'm sure it took about the same amount of effort. One would figure that it was sitting in a mail bin somewhere, not to be perpetually ignored. Even though I cut it up when I was told to, it's back to the drawing board on navigating the bureaucracy on getting this thing cancelled.
2) Contrary to what you may have heard, nothing short of surgical removal of the implant will do. Temporary treatment to render it inert and inactive will have to do until the legal process starts, and then I have persons of notoriety and integrity present to sign-off on the integrity of the actual operative process, stating that no funny business has transpired. That way, a lid is placed on the can of potential, tin-foil conspiracy theories.
I have more to say, but not now.
I am busy with the process.
In the meantime, a refresher:
Manufacturing Consent- Noam Chomsky
He may be a Lefty, and I disagree on a decent amount of his politics, but I learned quite a bit from him.
Monday, April 29, 2013
The Hand of God.
Before I get into commentary concerning a few other matters of concern to the country, I wanted to share a personal anecdote from this past summer, when I was unfortunately admitted to the hospital due to a life-threatening medical emergency for two weeks.
I say "unfortunately," but there is some good that came out of this.
I get to share a miraculous intervention in my life with the public at large.
I was taking a relatively decent dose of Lithium at that time, I believe it was June.
I was not drinking enough water and staying as hydrated as I should have been.
Also, it was, you know, just plain old hot.
As a result, for a few days leading up to the ambulance ride, my Lithium levels had begun to spike without me knowing it. I had started to become weak. I was vomiting, and couldn't hold food down. Not even fruit.
In that same time, I had also began to experience psychosis, including visual hallucinations (seeing that I was somewhere else while I was just in my bed, and seeing swirling colors on my ceiling), as well as delusions (thinking something totally different was going on in the apartment and neighborhood that I was in).
When I came out of these states, I would hardly remember what happened, or just chalk it up to a dream (It wasn't). Unfortunately, I was never able to connect all of the above dots to Lithium toxicity and act promptly to address the situation in time.
One day, the levels and dehydration caught up to me.
That afternoon, I was at the apartment with my grandmother.
There was a local power outage, and the box fan in my room was out of commission.
To make matters worse, my room, believe it or not, had no windows in it. It just had a door that opened up to the rest of the apartment, and windows toward the ceiling that opened up to the neighboring kitchen area.
All you need to know right now is that I was sprawled out on my mattress in scorching summer heat.
Meanwhile, on the stoop downstairs, my grandmother, whom I love dearly, was having one of her usual hours-long chats with her lady friends. Anyone who knows her knows that she loves to talk, and will talk ad nauseam with her friends and family for hours on end, be it on the phone, with company on the couch, or, as was the case this time, with friends on the front stoop in the summertime. One might jokingly say that it might take an act of God to get her to give herself a rest, as she just really, really loves to talk.
As stated above, she was on the porch, in the middle of one of her conversations with her friends, while she heard a small, childlike voice calling to her, "Grandma, grandma!"
She asked her friends, "Did y'all hear that?"
The replied, "No, Amanda. We didn't hear anything..."
The conversation continues for another few minutes, and the voice intrudes again.
Again, only my grandmother hearing it.
"Are y'all sure you didn't hear that?
"Yeah, Amanda! We don't know what you're talking about!"
The conversation continued one last time, with the voice intruding once more.
Again, my grandmother being the only one able to hear it.
She says, "Hold on for just one minute. I'm going upstairs."
(There were no other grandparents with grandchildren around within earshot at the tiny, quiet end of the block.)
Lo and behold, my grandmother finds me unconscious, unresponsive, sprawled out on my bed in the heat, heartbeat and and breathing totally out of control. My shirt was soaked in sweat, and my eyes bulging like a cartoon character.
The paramedics arrived, stabilized me, and quickly had me admitted to the hospital.
As the Lithium levels dropped in my system, I continued to experience hallucinations for a few days, until I was Lithium-free.
I had a few complications from the incident, such as my own body attacking my right calf (which rehabbed without help a week to two later), and another complication too messed up to mention here.
All things considered, I believe the following points to be fact:
1) My grandmother heard and listened to the voice of the Lord.
2) If not, she would have stayed outside for an indefinite period of time, enjoying the late afternoon/evening swapping stories with her friends on the stoop.
3) Point blank: Had she not listened, judging by the condition that they found me in, I wasn't going to last much longer, and I would be dead right now.
I thank God each and every day.
I say "unfortunately," but there is some good that came out of this.
I get to share a miraculous intervention in my life with the public at large.
I was taking a relatively decent dose of Lithium at that time, I believe it was June.
I was not drinking enough water and staying as hydrated as I should have been.
Also, it was, you know, just plain old hot.
As a result, for a few days leading up to the ambulance ride, my Lithium levels had begun to spike without me knowing it. I had started to become weak. I was vomiting, and couldn't hold food down. Not even fruit.
In that same time, I had also began to experience psychosis, including visual hallucinations (seeing that I was somewhere else while I was just in my bed, and seeing swirling colors on my ceiling), as well as delusions (thinking something totally different was going on in the apartment and neighborhood that I was in).
When I came out of these states, I would hardly remember what happened, or just chalk it up to a dream (It wasn't). Unfortunately, I was never able to connect all of the above dots to Lithium toxicity and act promptly to address the situation in time.
One day, the levels and dehydration caught up to me.
That afternoon, I was at the apartment with my grandmother.
There was a local power outage, and the box fan in my room was out of commission.
To make matters worse, my room, believe it or not, had no windows in it. It just had a door that opened up to the rest of the apartment, and windows toward the ceiling that opened up to the neighboring kitchen area.
All you need to know right now is that I was sprawled out on my mattress in scorching summer heat.
Meanwhile, on the stoop downstairs, my grandmother, whom I love dearly, was having one of her usual hours-long chats with her lady friends. Anyone who knows her knows that she loves to talk, and will talk ad nauseam with her friends and family for hours on end, be it on the phone, with company on the couch, or, as was the case this time, with friends on the front stoop in the summertime. One might jokingly say that it might take an act of God to get her to give herself a rest, as she just really, really loves to talk.
As stated above, she was on the porch, in the middle of one of her conversations with her friends, while she heard a small, childlike voice calling to her, "Grandma, grandma!"
She asked her friends, "Did y'all hear that?"
The replied, "No, Amanda. We didn't hear anything..."
The conversation continues for another few minutes, and the voice intrudes again.
Again, only my grandmother hearing it.
"Are y'all sure you didn't hear that?
"Yeah, Amanda! We don't know what you're talking about!"
The conversation continued one last time, with the voice intruding once more.
Again, my grandmother being the only one able to hear it.
She says, "Hold on for just one minute. I'm going upstairs."
(There were no other grandparents with grandchildren around within earshot at the tiny, quiet end of the block.)
Lo and behold, my grandmother finds me unconscious, unresponsive, sprawled out on my bed in the heat, heartbeat and and breathing totally out of control. My shirt was soaked in sweat, and my eyes bulging like a cartoon character.
The paramedics arrived, stabilized me, and quickly had me admitted to the hospital.
As the Lithium levels dropped in my system, I continued to experience hallucinations for a few days, until I was Lithium-free.
I had a few complications from the incident, such as my own body attacking my right calf (which rehabbed without help a week to two later), and another complication too messed up to mention here.
All things considered, I believe the following points to be fact:
1) My grandmother heard and listened to the voice of the Lord.
2) If not, she would have stayed outside for an indefinite period of time, enjoying the late afternoon/evening swapping stories with her friends on the stoop.
3) Point blank: Had she not listened, judging by the condition that they found me in, I wasn't going to last much longer, and I would be dead right now.
I thank God each and every day.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
"Cultivating Gratitude and Joy"
Been reading from a book called The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are.
An excerpt was fitting.
Scarcity And Fear Of The Dark
The very first time I tried to write about what gets in the way of gratitude and joy, I was sitting on the couch in my living room with my laptop next to me and my research memo journal in my hands. I was tired and rather than writing, I spent an hour staring at the twinkle lights hanging over the entryway into my dining room. I'm a huge fan of those little clear, sparkly lights. I think they make the world look prettier, so I keep them in my house year-round.
As I sat there flipping through the stories and gazing at the twinkle lights, I took out a pen and wrote this down:
Twinkle lights are the perfect metaphor for joy. Joy is not a constant. It comes to us in moments- often ordinary moments. Sometimes we miss out on the bursts of joy because we're too busy chasing down extraordinary moments. Other times we're so afraid of the dark that we don't dare let ourselves enjoy the light.
A joyful life is not a floodlight of joy. That would eventually become unbearable.
I believe a joyful life is made up of joyful moments gracefully strung together by trust, gratitude, inspiration, and faith.
For those of you who follow my blog, you'll recognize this as the mantra for my gratitude posts on Fridays that I call TGIF. I turned this quote into a small badge, and and part of my gratitude practice is a weekly post about what I'm Trusting, what I'm Grateful for, what Inspires me, and how I'm practicing my Faith. It's incredibly powerful to read everyone's comments.
Joy and gratitude can be very vulnerable and intense experiences. We are an anxious people and many of us have very little tolerance for vulnerability. Our anxiety and fear can manifest as scarcity. We think to ourselves:
-I'm not going to allow myself to feel this joy because I know it won't last.
-Acknowledging how grateful I am is an invitation for disaster.
-I'd rather not be joyful than have to wait for the other shoe to drop.
Fear of the Dark
I've always been prone to worry and anxiety, but after I became a mother, negotiating joy, gratitude, and scarcity felt like a full-time job. For years, my fear of something terrible happening to my children actually prevented me from fully embracing joy and gratitude. Every time I came too close to softening into sheer joyfulness about my children and how much I love them, I'd picture losing everything in a flash.
At first I thought I was crazy. Was I the only person in the world who did this? As my therapist and I started working on it, I realized that my "too good to be true" was totally related to fear, scarcity, and vulnerability.
Knowing that those are pretty universal emotions, I gathered up the courage to talk about my experiences with a group of five hundred parents who had come to one of my parenting lectures. I gave an example of standing over my daughter watching her sleep, feeling totally engulfed in gratitude, then being ripped out of that joy and gratitude by images of something bad happening to her.
You could have heard a pin drop. I thought, Oh, God. I'm crazy and now they're all sitting there like, "She's a nut. How do we get out of here?" Then all of a sudden I heard the sound of a woman toward the back starting to cry. Not sniffle cry, but sob cry. That sound was followed by someone from the front shouting out, "Oh my God! Why do we do that? What does it mean?" The auditorium erupted in some kind of crazy parent revival. As I had suspected, I was not alone.
Most of us have experienced being on the edge of joy only to be overcome by vulnerability and thrown into fear. Until we can tolerate vulnerability and transform it into gratitude, intense feelings of of love will often bring up the fear of loss. If I had to sum up what I've learned about fear and joy, this is what I would say:
The dark does not destroy the light; it defines it. It's our fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows.
This one's for my battle buddies out there.
An excerpt was fitting.
Scarcity And Fear Of The Dark
The very first time I tried to write about what gets in the way of gratitude and joy, I was sitting on the couch in my living room with my laptop next to me and my research memo journal in my hands. I was tired and rather than writing, I spent an hour staring at the twinkle lights hanging over the entryway into my dining room. I'm a huge fan of those little clear, sparkly lights. I think they make the world look prettier, so I keep them in my house year-round.
As I sat there flipping through the stories and gazing at the twinkle lights, I took out a pen and wrote this down:
Twinkle lights are the perfect metaphor for joy. Joy is not a constant. It comes to us in moments- often ordinary moments. Sometimes we miss out on the bursts of joy because we're too busy chasing down extraordinary moments. Other times we're so afraid of the dark that we don't dare let ourselves enjoy the light.
A joyful life is not a floodlight of joy. That would eventually become unbearable.
I believe a joyful life is made up of joyful moments gracefully strung together by trust, gratitude, inspiration, and faith.
For those of you who follow my blog, you'll recognize this as the mantra for my gratitude posts on Fridays that I call TGIF. I turned this quote into a small badge, and and part of my gratitude practice is a weekly post about what I'm Trusting, what I'm Grateful for, what Inspires me, and how I'm practicing my Faith. It's incredibly powerful to read everyone's comments.
Joy and gratitude can be very vulnerable and intense experiences. We are an anxious people and many of us have very little tolerance for vulnerability. Our anxiety and fear can manifest as scarcity. We think to ourselves:
-I'm not going to allow myself to feel this joy because I know it won't last.
-Acknowledging how grateful I am is an invitation for disaster.
-I'd rather not be joyful than have to wait for the other shoe to drop.
Fear of the Dark
I've always been prone to worry and anxiety, but after I became a mother, negotiating joy, gratitude, and scarcity felt like a full-time job. For years, my fear of something terrible happening to my children actually prevented me from fully embracing joy and gratitude. Every time I came too close to softening into sheer joyfulness about my children and how much I love them, I'd picture losing everything in a flash.
At first I thought I was crazy. Was I the only person in the world who did this? As my therapist and I started working on it, I realized that my "too good to be true" was totally related to fear, scarcity, and vulnerability.
Knowing that those are pretty universal emotions, I gathered up the courage to talk about my experiences with a group of five hundred parents who had come to one of my parenting lectures. I gave an example of standing over my daughter watching her sleep, feeling totally engulfed in gratitude, then being ripped out of that joy and gratitude by images of something bad happening to her.
You could have heard a pin drop. I thought, Oh, God. I'm crazy and now they're all sitting there like, "She's a nut. How do we get out of here?" Then all of a sudden I heard the sound of a woman toward the back starting to cry. Not sniffle cry, but sob cry. That sound was followed by someone from the front shouting out, "Oh my God! Why do we do that? What does it mean?" The auditorium erupted in some kind of crazy parent revival. As I had suspected, I was not alone.
Most of us have experienced being on the edge of joy only to be overcome by vulnerability and thrown into fear. Until we can tolerate vulnerability and transform it into gratitude, intense feelings of of love will often bring up the fear of loss. If I had to sum up what I've learned about fear and joy, this is what I would say:
The dark does not destroy the light; it defines it. It's our fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows.
This one's for my battle buddies out there.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
"Shame"
"A painful emotion caused by a strong sense of guilt, embarrassment, unworthiness, or disgrace."
I wanted to talk for a few minutes and revisit something you may have heard a million times, but probably missed something from, and that would be the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.
I'll start with a passage from Matthew 27:32-54.
A few things stuck out concerning the crucifixion of my Lord and savior Jesus Christ.
1) He turns down a yet-unknown beverage, which turns out to be some type of numbing wine mixture. (No oxycodone. Tough it out!)
2) Soldiers profiteering over the event and casting lots over his garments.
3) Public mockery and brutality.
I get the feeling that people usually get the idea that Christ came to Earth to die for our sins and reconcile us with our heavenly Father. That's fairly well understood. Maybe to a fault.
Everyone understands that nails and sharp thrusts in your side are not most peoples' idea of a good hearty tickle. Yes, we know it sucked, physically.
But what about psychologically?
2 Corinthians 5:21
He who knew no sin "became" sin.
Not "interviewed sinners."
Not "peeped their webpage."
Let that sink in for a moment.
What does that entail?
Let's peel back the onion.
He became sin.
Something so alien, so foreign to God, who is perfect.
Let's bring back that definition of "shame."
"A painful emotion caused by a strong sense of guilt, embarrassment, unworthiness, or disgrace."
So, to get this one right, someone who has never done a single thing wrong in his life had the world's sins heaped upon him, and then abandoned by his Father in his most trying of times because he reeked so badly.
He knows what it feels like to be a thief, although he has never stolen a single, solitary thing.
He knows the guilt of a con-man, even though he would be the most straight-up businessman you've ever met. That drunk driver who killed your cousin? He's been there, felt that.
It makes me wonder what was worse or what he dreaded more: the physical pain or the psychological anguish?
I figured this would be a good time to discuss the covenant that the Lord has made me a high priest of. This has nothing to do with repentance for sins, atonement, nor salvation. It is a gift from our Father for the house of Jacob, because we are chosen and special to him (Even still as he works, molds, and shapes us with love).
It is about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
The Son has set us free.
Hebrews 12:1-17
Hebrews 8
I thank the Lord daily for his salvation, direction, sacrifice, hope, and companionship.
Without it, I would be lost.
Hope you have a happy Easter (Resurrection Day, what have you).
God Bless you and yours.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
3/21/13
Brotherhood.
Love.
Fellowship.
Safety.
Supernatural provision in the midst of the storm.
The perks of being an American citizen and God's chosen.
When this time comes, it will be a dream come true.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)