“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”2 Corinthians 12:9
A primary qualification for serving God with any amount of success, and for doing God’s work well and triumphantly, is a sense of our own weakness. When God’s warrior marches forth to battle, strong in his own might, when he boasts, “I know that I shall conquer, my own right arm and my conquering sword shall get me the victory,” defeat is not far distant. God will not go forth with that man who marches in his own strength.
He who reckons on victory thus has reckoned wrongly, for “Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts.” They who go forth to fight, boasting of their prowess, shall return with their gay banners trailed in the dust, and their armor stained with disgrace. Those who serve God must serve him in his own way, and in his strength, or he will never accept their service.
That which man does, unaided by divine strength, God can never own. The mere fruits of the earth he casts away; he will only reap that corn, the seed of which was sown from heaven, watered by grace, and ripened by the sun of divine love. God will empty out all that you have before he will put his own into you; he will first clean out your granaries before he will fill them with the finest of the wheat.
The river of God is full of water; but not one drop of it flows from earthly springs. God will have no strength used in his battles but the strength which he himself imparts. Are you mourning over your own weakness? Take courage, for there must be a consciousness of weakness before the Lord will give you victory. Your emptiness is but the preparation for your being filled, and your casting down is but the making ready for your lifting up.
At times we may experience the power of the Spirit in such a way that some good deed seems to flow naturally from our heart, through our hands, to the benefit of others. But plucking a ripe raspberry from the bush in a moment doesn’t mean that it just appeared. Weeks and months of sunlight and rain, proper nutrients and right conditions, went into the slow daily growth of good fruit. And so it is with our acts of love for the good of others.
There is a process to the production of love, as the apostle Paul counsels his protégé Titus: “Let our people learn to devote themselves to good works, so as to help cases of urgent need, and not be unfruitful” (Titus 3:14). Good works don’t just happen. Meeting the needs of others doesn’t appear out of thin air. There is a process — a learning — to devote ourselves to good.
And one significant “spiritual discipline” is learning to manage our time in the mission of love, both in terms of proactive scheduling and planned flexibility. Previously, we suggested “fairly rigid blocks for our proactive labors, along with generous margin and planned flexibility to regularly meet the unplanned needs of others.” Now to the tune of making that more specific, here are four lessons in fruitful time-management, for the mission of love.
1. Consider your calling.
God has gifted each of us for the common good (1 Corinthians 12:7). He empowers a variety of gifts, services, and activities among his people (1 Corinthians 12:4–6). In terms of our professional “calling,” often we find it easier to identify what it is God might be moving us toward in the future, rather than what he has presently called us to today. For instance, it can be difficult for the business student, sensing a “call” to one day do business for the glory of God, to realize that his present calling is that of a student, even as he moves toward his perceived future call in business.
Our professional calling — that regular endeavor for which God has designed our head, heart, and hands for some particular season of life — flows not only from our own aspirations and the affirmations of others, but also from a tangible opportunity. One of us might feel the call to some new profession, and have the happy approval of those who know us best, but until some specific door swings open, and we have the live opportunity to begin operating in that field, that calling remains future — and we neglect our previous charge to the detriment of our joy and the good of others.
2. Plan with big stones.
Next, in light of God’s calling on us today, identify the key priorities that make up that calling. Typically, these priorities will be considerably compromised, if not abandoned altogether, if we don’t plan for them with some intentionality.
Some have called these “the big stones” (Manage Your Day-to-Day, 197). Our little pebbles are the smaller things to which we regularly give time but don’t contribute directly to the main priorities of our calling. If we put the big stones first into the jar of our schedule, we’ll be able to fill the cracks with a good many pebbles. But if we put the pebbles in first, the big stones likely will not fit.
Study after study confirms the importance of the first hours of the day for fulfilling the most important (and often most intensive) aspects of our calling. In the morning, we’re typically our sharpest, and have the largest store of energy to work creatively and proactively. Also, in the mornings, we’re less likely to be sidelined by interruptions and the urgencies that arise as the day wears on.
How we regularly invest our mornings can be telling. How many of us have found it true that where our morning is, there our heart will be also? When our top priority each day is reorienting toward Jesus and hearing his voice in the Scriptures, we’ll be more likely to create space for that early, and less likely to leave it to chance that something won’t drown it out later in the day.
Then, vocationally, how we spend those first few hours on the clock can be critical. As difficult as it can be to resist procrastinating on our most intensive and demanding tasks (“the big stones”), the most strategic time to tackle them is first thing in the morning. As to how guarding our mornings like this might be driven by love, think of it this way: In defending the light of our early mornings from trifles, we free ourselves to go on the offensive to beat back the darkness with flexibility for unscheduled acts of love. Which leads to a fourth and final lesson.
4. Create flexibility for meeting others’ needs.
So far, we’ve been mostly implicit about how these broad time-management lessons function in the service of love. Now let’s get explicit.
On the one hand, all our careful consideration of calling, and planning in light of key priorities, and making the most of the day’s first hours — all these function in the service of love as the proactive output of our vocation to serve and bless others. This is, after all, what our calling is in its truest and deepest sense: how God has prepared for us, with our particular abilities, in a certain season of life, to regularly expend time and energy for the good of others. That’s the proactive dimension to our calling.
But on the other hand, knowing our giftings and attending to our priorities and tackling them first thing in the morning also unleashes us to be reactive as the day unfolds, able to respond to the unplanned needs of others, whether big or small, obvious or subtle. Love both plans for fixed blocks to push forward our proactive labors of love as well as margin and flexibility to attend to others’ unplanned needs as they arise.
Remember Jesus’s Words
It’s a Christian Hedonistic way to parcel your time for those who remember the words of Jesus, how he himself said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). The greatest joys come not from time squandered, hoarded, or selfishly spent, but from self-sacrificial love for others to the glory of God, when we pour out our time and energy for the good of others, and find our joy in theirs.
For I have derived much joy and comfort from your love, my brother, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you. (Philem. 1:7)
Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken. (Eccles. 4:9-12)
Dear Lord Jesus, I can’t imagine how storms can be navigated, burdens borne, and hardships handled without the company of a few good friends. I praise you today for the gift of friendship—for the joy, encouragement, and refreshment you give me through good friends.
When we walk through difficult seasons we’re sometimes inclined to think, “No one can possibly understand what I’m going through; no one can begin to relate to my feelings and confusion; no one’s a mess like me.” Those are the times when it’s easy to withdraw into isolation, fall into the pit of condemnation, and reach for some ill-chosen medication. That’s when the gift of long-standing friends becomes especially precious.
Lord Jesus, I praise you for the gift of hearing friends say these two words, “Me too.” I praise you for friends who know how to “refresh the hearts of the saints”—including this saint. I praise you for friends who help me tap into the sufficiency of your grace, the steadfastness of your love, and the bigger story you’re always writing.
I praise you for friends who share their lives and not just their gospel. I praise you for friends who offer tears and not just their answers. I praise you for friends who give life-giving wisdom and not mess-fixing formulas.
Lord Jesus, good friends turn my heart heavenward. They remind me that the foundation and fountain of all good friendship is found in you. I praise you for befriending us in the gospel. How humbling it is to hear you say to us, “I no longer call you servants… I call you friends” (John 15:15). What wondrous love is this, indeed? “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). So very Amen I pray, in your most glorious and gracious name.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Col. 3:15
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.John 14:27
Dear Lord Jesus, today, like every day, somebody or something is going to seize the passion and preoccupation of my heart. Some entity will be the “boss of me,” the ruler of the manor, the fascination of my imagination.
It could be my bitterness, pettiness, or cowardice. It could be shame from the past or fear in the present. It could be overbearing people or aggravating co-workers; my greed to have a little more, or my “need” to be criticized less; the lusts of my flesh or the longings of my soul; old regrets or new fantasies; my pet poodle or pet peeves—any of a number of things will clamor for the best of me.
But right now, in submission to Paul’s admonition, I choose your peace as the ruler of my heart—as the centering and focusing power for this moment and day. No one is better at giving peace than you, Lord Jesus, for you are the Prince of Peace.
On the cross you secured God’s peace with us and our peace with God. The enmity and hostility between us have been obliterated and eradicated; now there is no condemnation and a full and permanent acceptance. How can I not overflow with gratitude as this day begins, and continues?
May your peace override the fears and stress, disappointments and irritants, which will vie for my energy today. No matter what news I receive today—personally or internationally, may your peace be more obvious than my anxieties and uncertainty. May your peace especially rule in my relationships.
Because you have forgiven me, I will choose to forgive others. Because you have forgiven me, I will choose to ask forgiveness from others. Because you are at peace with me, I will do everything within my power to live at peace with others. So very Amen I pray, in your merciful and mighty name.
Oh, those sweet words of Christ! May the Holy Ghost make you feel them as spoken to you; forget others for awhile—accept the voice of Jesus as addressed to you, and say, “Jesus whispers consolation; I cannot refuse it; I will sit under his shadow with great delight.”
A Prayer for Filling Our Hearts and Mouths with Healing Words
The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.Prov. 12:18
Dear Lord Jesus, my love affair with words goes back a long way; but I especially love the way you use words to bring us life and healing, freedom and hope. You never shame, manipulate, or flatter us with words. You neither mince, dice nor waste words, when dealing with our sin; but you never tear us down, you only build us up. You always speak truth and grace, for you have the fullness of truth and grace.
Lord Jesus, my prayer is simple, and necessary: grant me greater stewardship of my words. As you speak life to me, please speak life through me. I’m painfully aware that my words can bring great pain and harm, even as they can also be a source of hope and life (Prov. 18:21). If I’m not careful, my words can have the effect of gangrene—bringing decay and death (Eph. 4:29). I know this all too well.
You’ve told us that our words are an accurate reflection of what’s filling our hearts: “The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks” (Luke 6:45).
This is both sobering and encouraging. So no mere promise, on my part, to avoid gossip, idle chatter, reckless words, or coarse jesting will be enough. My heart needs to be full of you, Lord Jesus—your beauty, mercy and grace.
I realize, yet again, how important preaching the gospel to my heart really is—fixing my gaze on you, Lord Jesus, searching out the unsearchable riches of grace, with which you are full—bringing my wandering thoughts into captivity to you, that my tongue might be of life-giving service to you.
Oh, Lord Jesus, I so want my words to be a scalpel for healing, not a hammer for harm—even this very day. So very Amen I pray, in your all-beautiful and ever-bountiful name.
Lord I love You and I want to do Your will Not just good and acceptable but your perfect will Lord renew my mind and my whole life would be changed For the glory of Your Name, for the glory of Your Name
Here I come to You, offer my life to You As a living sacrifice, to be pleasing in Your eyes I will follow You, set my eyes on You Never ever turning back, and i know I won’t regret
Jesus I surrender, Jesus I surrender Jesus I surrender my life to You
As for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the Lord by ceasing to pray for you, and I will instruct you in the good and right way. Only fear the Lord and serve him faithfully with all your heart. For consider what great things he has done for you.1 Sam. 12:23-24
Dear Lord Jesus, Samuel’s words remind me there’s a lot more to a good friendship than prayer, but bringing our friends to the throne of grace it one clearest expressions of our love for them, and our love for you.
The fact that you call us your friends is humbling; and knowing that you’re always praying for us is all the motivation we need to repent of our prayerlessness.
For friends with wounded andbroken hearts, grant them the gift of your compassionate heart, comforting mercies, and tear-wiping hand. Protect them from people who would “heal their wounds lightly” (Jer. 6:14)—not taking their pain seriously.
For friends with vexed andangry hearts, thanks for your willingness to enter their fury in the same way you engaged with Jonah’s (Jonah 4). Help them discern the real issues driving their conflicted-ness—whether it’s betrayal or loss, pride or self-righteousness. Help them see the sadness behind their mad-ness, and the ways they are mishandling real hurt in ways that only generate more hurt.
For friends with anxious andfearful hearts, grant them an experience of your centering and calming presence. To be fearful is one thing, but to be fearful and alone is almost unbearable. In the chambers of their heart, let them hear you say, “Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One” (Rev. 1:17-18).
For friends with foolish anddeceived hearts, we’re prone to wander, but you’re even more prone to come after us. For friends making destructive choices, those obsessed with medicating their pain, and for others who are simply selfish and stubborn—Jesus, rescue them before they bring any more harm to themselves and others, I pray.
For friends with guilt and shame-stricken hearts, may they know your welcoming heart, finished work, and all-sufficient grace for them. No one loves sinners better than you, Jesus. Help all of remember what great things you have done for us in the gospel—for this is the real life-game changer. So very Amen I pray in your grace-full and faithful name.
“And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” Romans 8:30
In the second epistle to Timothy, first chapter, and ninth verse, are these words—”who saved us and called us to a holy calling.” Now, here is a touchstone by which we may try our calling. It is “not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace.” This calling forbids all trust in our own doings, and conducts us to Christ alone for salvation, but it afterwards purges us from dead works to serve the living and true God.
As he that has called you is holy, so must you be holy. If you are living in sin, you are not called, but if you are truly Christ’s, you can say, “Nothing pains me so much as sin; I desire to be rid of it; Lord, help me to be holy.” Is this the panting of your heart? Is this the tenor of your life towards God, and his divine will? Again, in Philippians 3:13–14, we are told of “The high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Is then your calling a high calling? Has it ennobled your heart, and set it upon heavenly things? Has it elevated your hopes, your tastes, your desires? Has it upraised the constant tenor of your life, so that you spend it with God and for God?
Another test we find in Hebrews 3:1—“You who share in a heavenly calling.” Heavenly calling means a call from heaven. If man alone calls you, you are uncalled. Is your calling of God? Is it a call to heaven as well as from heaven? Unless you are a stranger here, and heaven your home, you have not been called with a heavenly calling; for those who have been so called, declare that they look for a city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God, and they themselves are strangers and pilgrims upon the earth. Is your calling thus holy, high, heavenly? Then, beloved, you have been called of God, for such is the calling wherewith God calls his people.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Phil. 4:6-7
Dear Lord Jesus, I’ve memorized this Scripture, taught it, preached it, and prayed it for many struggling friends. Today, however, I need to lay hold of it for myself. I know you don’t us to “suck it up” or pretend, for the gospel frees us from that inauthentic way of life. So here, I am, as honest as I can be before you.
Jesus, it was you who turned the chaos of an unformed world into the beauty of creation. Please do the same with all the chaos dancing around me and in me. Replace my fretfulness and antsy-ness, my disquiet and edginess, with order and beauty.
For the things that grieve me, bring your tear-wiping hand. For the things that offend me, keep me from a critical and selfish spirit. For the things the people who, flat out, wear me out, grant me compassion. For the things that cause me great concern me, grant me the perspective of heaven and gospel sanity. Please don’t let me fall into the cynical spirit of “Whatever!”
For the things over which I have no control, give me a fresh vision of the occupied throne of heaven. For the things I do have control over, grant me wisdom and strength to act accordingly. Please help me steward my ambivalence and conflicted-ness to your glory. I don’t want to waste this moment or these feelings.
Lord Jesus, none of us have any reason to doubt either your mercy or your might. You gave your life for us upon the cross. You’ve risen to make all things new. You’re unremittingly praying for us and pursuing our hearts. No one loves us more than you do.
So may your peace rule afresh as the umpire in our hearts—guarding, centering and settling us. Protect us from the destructive lies of Satan, the fruitlessness of resentment, and the vanity of trying to be our own saviors. So very Amen I pray, with hunger and hope, in your most trustworthy name
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. Hab. 3:17-18
Dear heavenly Father, I approach the throne of grace today on behalf of those of us who are living in difficult stories, like Habakkuk, with unsettling circumstances and uncertain outcomes. I’m so thankful you always welcome us in our brokenness, never despise us in our anxiousness, and thoroughly understand our weariness. You, alone, are grace-full—bidding us cast our cares on you, even as you are prepared to catch everyone of them.
I pray for those of us facing difficult health issues—in our own bodies and minds, or in the lives of those we deeply love. Father, the promise and hope of our resurrection bodies never looked so good (2 Cor. 5:1-5).
We know that Jesus’ finished work has secured our ultimate healing (Isa. 53:5); but as our “outer man” further deteriorates, we trust you for wisdom, grace and the supernatural work of your Holy Spirit. It’s not a matter of “claiming healing,” but loving and trusting the Healer. Bring great glory to yourself, and peace to our hearts, no matter what you write in the next chapter of our stories.
I pray for those of us living in difficult relationships—marriage and family, church and vocation, neighborhood and community. Few things are as unsettling and upsetting, as broken, strained and messy relationships.
We praise you for Day when we will enjoy perfect relationships forever—in the new heaven and new earth. But until that Day, grant us mercy, strength and love—whether we get to see the beauty of reconciliation, or must bear the pain and grieve the loss of relationships.
I also pray for those of us facing uncertain outcomes in difficult jobs, legal proceedings, financial stress, parenting challenges, global fears, and in any of a number of hard providences—though we may not yet be see and fig leaves, grape buds, olive blooms, or baby calves, grant us a centering inner joy—knowing the gospel is true, we are your beloved children, and you are in complete control of all things. So very Amen we pray, in Jesus trustworthy name.
“For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his life [in the eternal kingdom of God]?
For what can a man give as an exchange (a compensation, a ransom, in return) for his [blessed] life [in the eternal kingdom of God]?”—Mark 8:36-37 AMP
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands. My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food, and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips. Ps. 63:1-5
Dear Lord Jesus, we want what David had—an intense yearning and craving for you. Make us so thirsty that we’ll remain insatiable until you hydrate our hearts with the gospel; satiate us with your steadfast love; quench us with fresh grace.
It’s a dangerous thing not to miss fellowship with you, Jesus. It’s a deceptive thing to enjoy you, but no longer actually need you. It’s a deceitful thing to be satisfied with correct theology about you, without experiencing rich communion with you. It’s a deadly thing to find our ultimate satisfaction in anyone or anything else but you.
Only your steadfast love is better than life, Lord Jesus—only your mercy drenched, grace propelled, God-favor-filled affection for us. Nothing else will do. You’ve created a gospel-shaped vacuum in our hearts—a screaming empty place that fits only you. Forgive us when we try to cram human love, creature comforts, or anything else into that place. Keep us redemptively discontent until our hearts rest again in you.
Lord Jesus, our cry isn’t just for ourselves as individuals, but also for our churches. Forgive us for being so organized, creative, and “right,” that we no longer miss your presence. If you actually “left the house,” how long would it take before we knew the difference? Show us, convict us, forgive us, and change us.
Let us see and experience your power and glory in fresh ways, Jesus. We want to lift our hearts, voices, hands, and whole lives to you as a sacrifice of praise. May the truth and grace of the gospel satisfy us, as “fat and rich food”. So very Amen we pray, with longing and expectant hearts.
A Prayer for Relinquishing Ownership of Our Battles to God
Posted: 20 Mar 2014 03:36 AM PDT
The Lord saves not with sword and spear. For the battle is the Lord’s. (1 Sam. 17:47) This is what the Lord says to you: “Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s.” (2 Chron. 20:15)
Dear heavenly Father, I’m so thankful to begin this day relinquishing ownership of my battles to you. Your Word is so timely and encouraging. Though you call us into spiritual warfare and give us the appropriate armor to wear (Eph. 6:10-18), it’syou we must trust in as our “shield and buckler” (Ps. 91:4), high tower and safe refuge, mighty Warrior and faithful Deliverer.
I’ll fight, not a disengaged pacifist but as a fully engaged worshiper—”beholding the salvation of the Lord.” I’m never more than a little David facing a formidable Goliath; but with you, that is enough. Whether it’s a mere skirmish or an all-out assault, the battle belongs to you, Father. Fear and discouragement aren’t the order of the day; faith and peace are.
When dark plans and wicked ways threaten; when it seems like evil men and their destructive plots will triumph, let me hear your laughter in heaven, Father. Let me see your already-installed King, the Lord Jesus—for all things are subject to him,all things. Show me the occupied throne of heaven, and it will shut up my fears (Ps. 2; Rev. 4).
When I’m under attack by the seducer, accuser, and condemner of the brethren, once again let me see Jesus, the author and perfecter of my faith. Jesus, alone, is my wisdom, righteousness, holiness, and redemption (1 Cor. 1:30-31). My boast is in Christ plus nothing, not in anything in me.
When I get pulled into petty fights and relational turmoil, with friends, “brethren, and others, center me quickly by the power of grace, and bring me back to faith expressing itself in love (Gal. 5:6)—the only thing that matters.
When I’m in the presence of systemic evil and extreme brokenness, keep me sane, calm and wise. When my divided heart wages war inside of me, come to me in the storm, Father, and bring your peace that passes all understanding and transcends every difficulty. So very Amen I pray with confidence, in Jesus’ triumphant and tender name.
For God is the one who provides seed for the farmer and then bread to eat. In the same way, he will provide and increase your resources and then produce a great harvest of generosity in you.
Yes, you will be enriched in every way so that you can always be generous. And when we take your gifts to those who need them, they will thank God. So two good things will result from this ministry of giving—the needs of the believers in Jerusalem will be met, and they will joyfully express their thanks to God.
As a result of your ministry, they will give glory to God. For your generosity to them and to all believers will prove that you are obedient to the Good News of Christ. And they will pray for you with deep affection because of the overflowing grace God has given to you. Thank God for this gift too wonderful for words!
There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because he first loved us.1 John 4:18-19
Gracious Father, the season of Lent is, once again, confronting me with my penchant for living more of a driven life, than a called life. The last few weeks have been a blur—filled with too much navel gazing and second-guessing, and performance-ism and perfectionism.
By your grace, I want to live with less fear and more freedom, less by frenzy and more by faith, with fewer obsessions and with much more adoration of you, the God of all grace and peace.
As I get older I just don’t have as much energy to juggle as many balls or spin as many plates as I used to. This is simultaneously a humbling thing and a good thing. For if greater grace comes to the humble, then accepting my limitations is essential for my liberation. Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!
It’s not difficult to see that my driven-ness and busyness are rooted in fear—the fear of not being enough and having enough, the fear of losing face and losing control, the fear of missing the mark and missing out.
Come, Lord Jesus, come. Perfection can only be found in you. Your perfect love alone can liberate this poser, performer, and perfectionist. Drive out my fears by a greater grasp of your grace and knowledge of your love. You lived a life of perfect obedience for us, as the second Adam—fulfilling everything God requires of us.
You died a death of perfect love for us, as the Lamb of God, exhausting God’s judgment against our sin. Your resurrection from the dead on the third day is the firstfruits and guarantee that one Day, we too, will be made perfect in love—the Day for which I long more than any other.
Lord Jesus, I love you because you first loved me and continue to love me. May your perfect love continue to drive every lingering and limiting fear from my life. So very Amen I pray, in your merciful and mighty name.