Searching for the Light

Advent. My favorite season of the year.

A season of anticipation.

A season of preparation.

A season of Darkness.

And there is always so much darkness this time of year. This time of year we spend so much time, energy and money trying to convince ourselves that we should be happy. Somehow, we have allowed that idea to translate into buying things for ourselves and each other... because the more stuff we have, the happier we'll be, right?

Nothing puts that happiness to a hault faster than tragedy. And we've had plenty of that, haven't we? Personal or local tragedies aside, I can't even list all of them that have made it on national news and strongly impacted individuals throughout our country. Not the least of these, of course, involve shootings. Killing our innocent children. 28 lives lost in Newtown, CT. A 16 year old in Pierre, SD while his 16 year old friend sits in jail being tried as an adult...

Did you hear me say 28 lives in Newtown?

I wish that number didn't catch you off guard, but if you've watched the news at all, I bet it has. They keep talking about 26 lives. 20 children, 6 teachers/administrators... but let us not forget even for a moment and even in the face of tragedy that 28 lives were lost that day, including the life of the shooter, age 20, and his mother, the owner of the gun but as far as we know an innocent by-stander.

Any life lost is a tragedy. EVERY life lost is a loss. Life is Sacred, and we should mourn for ALL of these lives we have lost.

There are so many places this conversation can and even should go, and I will be among the voices calling (again and again) for more gun control.

But first: let us grieve together. Let us rest in the darkness if we need to. Let us grieve together and process these inconceivable circumstances: but let us not forget our call to care for all people.

In the midst of a call to pray for the victims' families (and trust me I have a great deal), I can't help but to keep coming back to how quickly we forget.

We forget that people suffer. We forget that much as those families are surely living in hell as they are without words or understanding... as surely as they are mourning the loss of their children, mothers and sisters... so too is a family grieving the mystery and confusion and pain of losing a mother and a brother and a nephew and a sister... and while they try to process that loss, they can't help but to feel guilty, pained and at a loss of words for their own flesh and blood that owned the weapons and pulled the trigger.

And while I won't defend actions, and I don't believe anyone should own such weapons of destruction, I can't help but to push back. To ask us to consider the hell that young man was surely living in long before December 14. A hell that he lived with every day that eventually led him to that tragic, heart-breaking day of events we will never forget. I can't help but wonder how many others out there are living in hell... and I wonder how many people in each of our lives we are failing to reach out to because we can't be bothered. Because we're tired. Because they're hard to deal with. Because we have more questions than answers. Because we don't understand.

...because we think dreadful results of unattended mental illness will "never happen to us."

Mental illness itself is not cause for such tragedies as these, but it cannot be ignored, and we cannot pretend like we are doing anything short of harm by ignoring it.

I have struggled with depression. I have struggled with anxiety. Mental illness, in all its forms, great and small, is a terrible form of darkness that can feel overwhelming and inescapable: but it's not. There is help out there if we are willing to reach out... if people are willing to reach out to those in need...

Advent is a season of Darkness, and this year in particular, there seems to be darkness all around. Depression is rampant during the holidays. Pain of loss and tragedy are all around us.

But let us not be consumed by it.

Let us never forget that even in darkness, the Light shines. With each passing day, it shines brighter still.

Soon, the Christ candle will be lit as the child of Light is fully revealed to us on Christmas.

And then? Then we shall not find happiness we so often associate with the season. Then we shall find JOY.

JOY of the Spirit that comes with the knowledge and understanding of what it really means that "God is with us."

This kind of JOY can be present even in the darkness. Even in our pain. Even when the world around us seems to be falling apart.

And yes: even in the midst of tragedy and unanswerable questions.

Because the light shines bright, and the darkness, no matter how hard it tries, cannot overcome it.

Thanks be to God.

Just another Sunday Morning

The sun casts its shadows and creats colors of clarity in the early morning.

Cool crisp air wraps around and fills my lungs, offering a welcome reminder of the sacredness of winter; offering reason for celebration of life itself.

Two morning worship services complete with children's choirs and a feast with breads from around the globe as we celebrate World Communion Sunday.

A peaceful afternoon preparing to celebrate the life of a loved member of our community.

An invitation by another family preparing to return from different corners of the world to to celebrate and honor the life of their beloved mother.

Cherished moments indeed.

If my cup was overflowing before, then we better get prepared for a flood...

They're Going to Kill My Friend

Today I am without words as I mourn the loss of a life. The death penalty is never acceptable ("Thou Shalt not Kill") - but in cases of such doubt, the ring of travesty echos on. Troy Davis, you will be remembered: and may your story live on into a new chapter of change and progress.

I leave you with the words of a friend who was intricately involved with Troy's case for years, and whose words are more eloquent than my own.

They're Going to Kill My Friend
by Rev. Karl Kroger
(Written for the Pierre, SD Newspaper (www.capjournal.com) for September 23, 2011)

As I write this, a man I deeply care about is about to be executed. Unless a miracle occurs, when you read this, Troy Davis will be dead. Despite overwhelming evidence that casts doubt on his conviction, the powers that be in the state of Georgia are not concerned. Though Troy Davis and I have never met, I consider Troy Davis my friend. What do you do when someone is about to kill your friend?

Three years ago, while helping with a colleague’s youth retreat, I felt the call of God to help save a man’s life. In between the boat rides and the campfires, I could not stop thinking about the very real possibility that Georgia might execute someone who was innocent.

It seemed as if very few people even cared that the criminal justice system might have gotten it wrong. It seemed as if a flawed conviction only mattered, if it personally affected you. For most of the people and most of the churches in Georgia, permanently punishing the wrong man was not important.

But it was important to me. How as a society could such an ugly distortion of justice be tolerated? Furthermore, what if it was you or me, who was wrongly accused of a crime, and no one cared? Wouldn’t we want people to wake up and demand that all the facts be taken into account?

Praying for God to lead and guide me, trusting in the Holy Spirit to convict my heart, and compelled by Jesus’ command to love my neighbor, I surrendered myself to God to be used for the Kingdom. And so began my intense battle to save Troy Davis’ life.

Soon I began calling upon people to pray, to fight, and to offer advice. Within days, I recruited a few seminary friends to join me in the fight. We then rallied our seminary and our entire university, joining in with the people all across Atlanta, the state of Georgia, and around the world.

Momentum began to build and we started working with other organizations already fighting for Troy, including the NAACP, Amnesty International, and Georgian’s for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. The state was committed to killing Troy Davis, but we were determined to do everything we could to stop them.

And because of our actions, the intervention of the courts, and miracles, we did; three execution dates were put on hold. The instantaneous shouts of joy and songs of praise on those days were glorious! Millions of people worked to save Troy Davis’ life. We marched and we protested, we held vigils and we prayed, and we wrote letters and hung banners on the freeway.

All of the details of the case, the trials and appeals, the four execution dates are too lengthy to expound upon here. You should know however, that Troy Davis was found guilty of killing a cop, Officer Mark MacPhail. His death was wrong and is extremely tragic.

This week I watched as MacPhail’s daughter Madison, just a toddler at the time of her father’s death, spoke about the pain of growing up without a dad. She said there was something not right about living beyond your father’s final age. He died when he was only 27 years old.

As a Christian, I take seriously Jesus’ commands to love God and love my neighbor. Love, peace, kindness, and goodness are fruit of the Spirit and they are values of the Kingdom. They are part of the ways of God and they stand in contrast to murdering and executing people. Christians don’t all agree on that unfortunately, but surely we can agree that executing someone who is innocent or who has a strong case of innocence is stupid, unjust, and evil.

I grieve for Troy Davis, for his mother Virginia who died last year. What privilege to have known, embraced, and prayed with a woman of such grace and love. I grieve too for Officer MacPhail’s death, and for the pain his family still bears. May God bring healing and comfort to them.

Tonight my friend is scheduled to die. My heart breaks, but my hope is in Jesus Christ. And I know Troy’s is as well.

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Editor's Note: Despite the cry of thousands across the world for justice on behalf of Troy, the Supreme Court denied requests for a stay of execution. The state of Georgia executed Troy Anthony Davis, pronouncing him dead at 11:08pm on Thursday, September 21. May Troy's Spirit rest in the hands of God, and may God have mercy on us all...
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Rev. Karl Kroger's extensive work on behalf of Troy Davis began as a Candler School of Theology student in 2008. This advocacy inspired thousands to get involved with Troy's case and eventually led to Karl being awarded with Emory University's prestigious Humanitarian Award in 2009. Karl now resides in Pierre, South Dakota, where he is the pastor of Southeast Pierre United Methodist Church.

Esther's Funeral

I went to a funeral today.

I never met the young woman we are grieving today. She was the daughter of one of our DRC satellite leaders. She passed away on Sunday after weeks in intensive care; she came to South Africa in hopes of medical care that would save her life after they could no longer help her at the hospitals at home in DRC.

Esther Kalanga Mulowayi was 25 years old:
    Only one month older than me.
    She was healthy.
    She was happy - a newlywed, married in 2009, less than one year ago.

How quickly life passes us by as the words of the season rang in my ears during the service, “From Dust you came, and to Dust you shall return.”

There are countless reasons to mourn her passing. Today we are mourning.

There are also countless questions to ask. As the questions come in and the grief set in, I have spent a lot of time talking with Lucille (one month older than me). We have spent time reflecting on our own short lives that could be taken at any moment.

I am reminded to be grateful for all I have. For all that our lives have offered us, and more importantly, (we hope) others.

Today I am (perhaps selfishly) not ready to grieve the loss of Esther’s life. Instead, I am thinking about what I would want today to look like if it were a memorial service in honor of my own life, even at the young age of 25. I would want it to be a celebration.

I would want the small congregation not just to grieve, but also to celebrate the many good things of that have been shared over the past 26 years. It would be a celebration that of a life fully lived, even if it was cut “short.” I hope it would be a celebration of a life in which every day was lived fully, embracing each moment in refusal of letting mistakes of the past or fears of the future dictate the present.

Today, I celebrate. I celebrate that even if Esther and I did not meet in this world, we will meet in the next.

I celebrate that though we never met, Esther’s life has brushed mine.

Ready for Lent

Today is Ash Wednesday. The first day of the season of Lent on the Christian calendar. A day that we are reminded "From dust you came, and to dust you shall return."

As Christians, this is a time of reflection and introspection. It is a 40-day journey that is representative of the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness. He fasted and was tempted, but most importantly, he prayed. He was preparing himself for a life of ministry beyond what we ever imagined. For us, we spend these symbolic 40 days preparing ourselves - of seeking restoration - as we anticipate Christ's Resurrection, which marks the end of this season.

As we prepare ourselves, we have the tradition of making some sacrifices during Lent. Whether we give something up (a food, bad habit, or some material item we really don't need) or add something (spiritual practice such as devotions or prayers), please remember the reason we do so. I encourage you not to make a change because you feel you have to, only to return to your "old ways" on Sundays ("mini-Easters") or the day the season ends (Easter). I hope instead, we can make changes to our lives that will hold lasting effects, that will truly help us to grow in and strengthen our faith. That whatever choices we make in this season will have everlasting effects and carry over beyond Lent, and that most importantly, it will help us to refocus our energies and take a risk by diving into an even deeper relationship with Christ who calls us to this place - who restores us.

Far more than any year ever before, this year, I am ready for Lent. So much has happened already this year, and it is almost as if there has been no time for it all to catch up and sink in. From ongoing economic problems to discovering the root of my back problems are because I have Degenerative Disc Disease to friends in need hundreds of miles away, to the tragic and heartbreaking premature birth and death of friends' infant son only last week, I have spent this year in ceaseless prayer for crisis after crisis.

This year I have set goals for this season, as always one "sacrifice" and one spiritual practice to work on. More important than these, though, I pray whatever our goals are, we are able to collectively keep up an attitude of ceaseless prayer, even when we aren't in crisis to remind us (and I hope that day will be soon). I pray that whatever changes we make to our lives this season, they are changes that allow for us the opportunity to find rest and inner peace, and to find the restoration we so often speak of this season being affiliated with.

Come, O God, and restore our souls as we remember on this day that "From Dust we came, and to dust we shall return."

The Circle of Life

January has been a difficult time for me for several years now.

It was in January of 2004 that I first discovered my father had a relentless cancer, and was given 6 months to live (he fought for nearly 8).

It was in January of 2006 that the lives were needlessly taken from 7 people I knew and loved... 6 of them in 2 separate car accidents. The seventh was my dear friend Jenny, who died in her sleep due to an aneurysm. She was one of the dearest friends I have ever been blessed with; I still miss and love you, Jenny.

I have been grieving this week for a dear friend who is losing her father to a rough struggle with cancer.

Today, I received more news that makes my heart deeply sad. Marcie Sidie was my Spanish teacher in jr high/high school. I took classes with her for 5 years, but more than my teacher, she was a friend. She is responsible for forming the first support group I was ever a part of - and no one knew she was doing it until it was done. This is because while most students take 1-2 years of foreign language in high school, there were 7 of us that stayed with her for the long haul. She was gone a lot - in and out of treatments for her cancer that would go in and out of remission. And we were supportive as we knew how to be without being invasive. We sent cards, flowers, balloons - and not least of all our love and prayers. It was always a celebration when she was able to return to us. We did not always learn a lot as a result of having frequent substitutes who did not know Spanish, but we always managed to work independently well enough to legitimately pass the course.

So the 8 of us - her 7 students and Señorita Sidie herself, grew to be very close. We laughed, played games, taught (at the elementary school), and learned together. When we had reason to celebrate, we celebrated together. When there was reason to be sad, we took time out of our class to mourn together and support each other. When the planes hit the towers that dreadful morning of September 11, 2001, we sat in speechless terror and watched together. Then she was the only teacher we had who was willing to talk about it and debrief with us rather than respond with "if our lives stop and we talk about it, we're letting them win."

In the process of our relationship-building, she won our trust and as such, I learned more from her than any other teacher I've had. Further, she provided a space for us that allowed some unlikely folks to become the best of friends, relationships that I still keep up with today (even if only via facebook and gatherings are seldom due to distance).

On Monday, the same day that new life entered this world through my close friends' first son, little James Bennett Baker, Señorita Sidie passed away. The obituary did not list her cause of death, and from afar my best guess is that she finally lost her decade-long struggle with cancer.

I certainly wish the 7 of us could be together for one last time at her services on Friday, saying something ridiculous in Spanish that I know would give her a smile. Since we can't, I am pleased to know that many of her students who have come after us will be honoring her by doing just that. As for me, I honor her with this farewell and an old picture from our final day of class only days before our high school graduation.Rest in Peace, Ms Sidie. We'll miss you.

My Heart is at "Home"

Sometimes, it is very, very difficult to be away from that place that I will always call "home."

Sometimes, "only" a phone call away sounds like a terrible nightmare.

I got a dreaded phone call today that my grandmother is in ICU after a surgery on a blood clot. While I was VERY upset that this call came more than 15 hours after she entered the hospital, I am relieved to know that things are looking really good and she may even be sent home as early as tomorrow.

In the same conversation, I was filled in on the incredibly tragic stories of other things going on at home. Another suicide of a young man - only 24 years old, and graduated a year behind me in high school. Heartbreaking news. It gets worse: there was an accident in the middle of his procession from the funeral to the burial today.

To add to my frustration, I have spent the day reading and writing a paper on John Calvin's theology of predestination and how that applies to Christian life. The only thing good about writing this paper is that I am learning what I do not believe, hence I am more able to articulate what I do. Calvin's theology is, in many ways, so contrary to my own that I am incredibly frustrated to "listen" to someone talk about life, death, struggles, sin, faith, etc in such distant ways... as statistics or facts rather than as individuals, lives, beautiful and worthy creations of God that we are. It is difficult to read that God uses all things for good and that everything that happens has been pre-ordained by God. Really? My grandmother may be okay, and for that I am thankful. But what does this say about my friend's 16-year-old brother who died in a car accident just over 2 weeks ago? Or was the young man from my home town destined to be so miserable that he would want to take his own life?

I don't think so. We have more than that. We have hope. I think it appropriate to come back to what has been one of my favorite quotes since I first read his biography during college... from none other than Harvey Milk... now a familiar name to many as his story appropriately made it to the big screen. Mr. Milk leaves us with these words:

“You cannot live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living."

A Day with the Mother Falcon

Today was a crazy day of one long roller-coaster!

It was filled with great beauty of the countyside. Including me driving all day. I have realized I haven't put up any photos of me with the Mother Falcon (our beloved name for the van), so here's one. You can't really see the big white 8-foot trailer we pull behind it, but I think you'll get the idea. It was Drew's birthday, so we had a good time trying to make his day as best as it could be. I think we'll try again tomorrow b/c of some stuff non-trip related that made that hard today.

I got to talk to my wonderful friend Rosie over lunch, and we're going to meet up in DC!!! This made my day. Then we went to a cute local festival tonight for dinner. It was great. I got to talk to Alicia (my sister!) over dinner... often during my "normal" life we have dinner dates, where she sits in her apartment alone (now in NYC) and I sit in mine in Chicago, and we chat and eat together. Cheesey, I know... but it was nice to do so again tonight even while I was surrounded by teammates. Even better? I may have talked her into coming for a brief visit while we're in DC!!!! So not only will I get to see her, but she'll get to meet the team... and they'll get to meet her!!! It will be great... and they'll get to see another side of me in which I have no walls and can trust in knowing and loving that she knows me so very well. I can't wait!!!

I also got a crazy email tonight from a long-lost friend that I just discovered is into biking. I couldn't be more excited to be in touch with her about everything!

Lots of crazy downs today too. A dear friend lost her grandmother yesterday... so I'm heavily praying for them. I hope you will too.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow's adventure: Princeton, West Virginia. I've never been to West Virginia. Honestly, I never thought I wanted to go, haha. But alas, I am thankful we're going to new places on this trip... West Virginia no exception! I hope its as beautiful as the past few days have been!!

...also on my heart and mind is the ongoing North Central Jurisdiction meeting of The United Methodist Church. Anyone with updates is welcome to call/text me!!!

A Tragic Loss

I've begun my day in the one way everyone dreads.

With a wake-up call from a very dear friend that her mom has (somewhat unexpectedly) passed away this morning. I sat with her as she journeyed home from her work to her house so she could be driven to her home town where her parents still reside. I was without words, full of prayer, and wishing more than anything that I could reach through the phone and just hold her as I cried with her from several hundred miles away. My heart aches, my whole being is prayerful. I'm saddened and confused... and I feel her pain. She is too young to lose a parent, and there are no words that can change that or make it feel better.

No matter how many times we lose people we love, no matter how many times you are a friend or colleague or pastor - it doesn't get easier. My one prayer, that I hope you can join me in, is that the God who gives us life will continue to be with and wrap Her arms around those who are mourning and suffering and in need in these days. And that those I lift up today- my friend and her family- will feel that presence and be strengthened and encouraged by it.

Tragedy Strikes NIU

My heart aches on this Valentines Day, finding it hard to imagine how one could be happy on this cold, frigid, bloody day.

There was another shooting at another American University today. Today's shooting took place only about 70 miles away from here, on the campus of Northern Illinois University. 21 people were shot in a classroom, where a former Graduate student opened fire in a lecture hall full of geology students with a shotgun and two handguns. After injuring 16 of those victims and killing 5, he then shot himself.

I'm speechless and heartbroken and frustrated with the media. People need time to mourn and try to make sense of this senseless situation. Yet the media is plastered with photos and video feed of events immediately following the shooting, including pictures of victims before they received care (one of a stuent shot in the leg, surrounded by students who had carried him to safety in another building) or on stretchers, covered in blood, as they're put into an ambulance- with a clear site of the person's face. Is this really "just a news story" to them?

Today's shooter was a Sociology Grad student NIU last spring. Sociology. Whenever a tragedy like this one strikes, I always wonder what kind of pain they must have first experienced. What would drive them to that point? Today, I feel like this is an even deeper question, as he was s Sociology student. Sociology. The study of people and groups. The study of human interactions with one another... What might his educated mind- that probably understood what this would do to people before, after and during the event- have been thinking?

Its been a long couple of weeks. I've had a long week. Blessed, but long. But nothing compared to these poor folks who are hurting so much tonight. So I do the only thing I know how to do. Pray. Then listen. Then Pray. and Pray some more. I hope you will join me. As we pray together, let us remember one thing that is hard to remember in these moments: God Loves That Guy. I hope we can too.

God Loves That Guy

In the past couple of weeks, I've really enjoyed listening to some new artists I've recently discovered. One song I've come across that has really impacted me has been "That Guy" by Andy Gullahorn. We're doing a sermon series on "Changes" at church right now, and having the kind of love that song talks about is a change I would love to see for my life- for all of our lives. What a different place our world would be... Next week we'll be singing this song in church, and I can only hope the words stick with the congregation as much as they have stuck with me.

Since I first suggested this song, I've been asked several times where I found it. Long story short, I found it through The Square Peg Alliance (I wrote more on that here), though I knew I'd heard it somewhere else before, and just wasn't sure where. Then tonight I did a YouTube search to see if there were any videos out there with this song, only to discover that my friend Karl made a video to it (explaining why the song was familiar- I'd seen it on his website before). This is a great video with an incredible display of the sad reality of our world... and our great need to reach beyond the sins and short-fallings of ourselves and those around us and into the world God has called us to: a world of love.

Teach me to love like that.

Our Broken, Hurting World

Tragedy after tragedy after tragedy. That is all I hear on the news.

What is going on? Watching the news this evening, they moved from one thing to another, as if it were no big deal. No progress on the shooter at a Lane Bryant store, where five people were killed "execution style" and the shooter is still unidentified. Then to the shooting at a city council meeting in Kirkwood, Missouri in which five people were killed before the shooter was gunned down (and killed) by police. Then to Louisiana, where it again wasn't even the headline that someone shot and killed two people before killing themself at a Technical college in Louisiana. Then to Georgia, where there was an explosion that killed 4 people, with 4 others still missing.

Is it always like this? Is this what our world- the very communities we live in- have become? Maybe it is. But does it have to be? What can we be doing- what have we been doing- that has made it become this way, most people don't even bat an eye. There was a shooting at a college today!!!! and no one even noticed or flinched!!! I can't even find the story on some of the main news websites! (It was here on CNN... but should I have to LOOK for such stories?!?)

Perhaps I am feeling a bit over-emotional about such things in light of more tragedies striking at home. There was ANOTHER fatal car accident. That's so many in the past 6 months I've seriously lost track! I still think about JJ and the Nelson family almost daily, knowing (via FB status updates and lots of pictures) that JJ is struggling so much with Alex's death. :(. That one hit close to home... this time, I don't think I know the boys involved, but there were three, all pronounced "dead on arrival." 18, 19, 20 years old. It was late, only the driver was wearing a seatbelt... of course everyone's first question is "were they drinking?" but no one knows yet... they went of the road and hit a tree, but the roads were icy so it is quite possible they (or at least the driver) were not. Regardless, 3 more lives were tragically lost early this morning, and again my very small town is mourning the lost lives of young people who still had so much to offer. Even from afar, even not knowing the boys, its hard. Its hard because in the days to come, I know I will feel I "need" to be home, to support those in the community I do love. Because even if I wasn't close to the boys, I know people I am close to and love were. As I wrote before in my post "Life and Death in a Small Town", thats whats great- and terrible- about living in a small town.

I'm thinking and praying and seeking a deeper kind of rest on this cold winter evening. May everyone be safe and warm and find time to be thankful for the blessed lives we lead, and for the blessing of the lives who share our lives with us.

Life and Death in a Small Town

Tragedy has struck at home, and 20-year-old Alex Nelson has passed away in a car accident while his two friends who were with him walked away. Everyone is really shaken up, and I think my sister Alicia stated well why this is so hard on all of us, no matter how close we were or weren't to him:

"The worst thing about a small town is that everyone knows everything about everyone. What happens when someone you know everything about, dies? It doesn't matter how close you were to them. It matters that you shared a place that was dear to you. You play in the same playground. You tell the same stories of the lame town you grew up in and call home. You shared moments with the person's mother. You graduated with the persons brother. Your families go to the same church. Just the same, you know everything about him, he probably also knew everything about you. When he dies, a part of you also dies. We will all mourn together. This is what it means to be in a small town."

So true. and so sad. Yet at the same time, we have to ask: is that a negative thing to know everyone, to have those kinds of relationships? Maybe that's one of the gifts of the small town... that when something happens, you have a network of support, because it has affected everyone on some level and it isn't just "your problem." Better yet, you don't have to make those "dreaded phone calls" or explain yourself...because everyone already knows. My small town has made me who I am (for better or worse). They have supported me, encouraged me, battled with and challenged me... I am grateful for all that my small town that will always be home has offered me.

I didn't know Alex that well, yet I did at the same time. I know his brother, who I graduated with. We have countless mutual friends, including my little sister who also graduated with him.

May Alex RIP as we keep his family, friends, and our community in our thoughts and prayers.