Some days it just feels as if the boxes, the smallness that my life has been reduced to in this transition will never end. I am counting down the days until these boxes and stacks get piled into a rental truck to be driven 500 miles to my new life.
While the physical space of the new cottage is smaller it feels as if I am being transplanted from a cramped pot into a spacious and roomy new pot with wonderfully nutrient-rich soil and plenty of room to grow. I can't say that this wild oak is being transplanted back into the wild just yet because I know that seminary is just a container for the next three years of intense training and formation where I will be strengthened and prepared to be transplanted into my true habitat.
Somewhere in my boxes there is a precious little bronze cross with a tree growing on it. If you look carefully there are places along the trunk of this cross-shaped tree where you can see the wounds of pruning. It reminds me that I am constantly being tended to by a Gardener who sees my potential and exactly what I need in order to fulfill the deepest purpose of my soul. I resent the pain of pruning, but it helps when I can somehow manage to return to the perspective that it isn't being done with malice but with love.
In 12 days that truck will be taking me to my new home and I will begin the process of settling into my new pot; setting new roots and strengthening my growth. Not only am I looking forward to this awkward transplanting time to be over I am looking forward to the new adventure that is ahead of me.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Finally Some Unpacking Among the Packing
On June 15 I boarded a plane with no real idea of what I was heading for. This was not the first time God had put me on a plane with spiritual destination unknown, but for some reason I thought I knew what to expect. I was going to spend four days with other young Christian leaders, doing some sort of service project and learning about where the church seems to be heading. Pretty simple. Except that all I really knew was that I was going to New Orleans and everyone told us to pack for heat and to bring bug spray.
It has taken me nearly a month to begin to unpack the lessons and experiences of those few days in New Orleans as part of the Fund for Theological Education 2011 Leaders in Ministry Conference. Sure, I had the experiences. I had the notes I took and the notebook with handouts and schedules. I read blog posts by others who had been there and listened to the recordings of various talks. I also pondered. There has been a whole lot of pondering.
The first day with all of the travel and assorted confusion of checking in and getting situated took me completely out of my comfort zone. The group I was assigned to arrive with was late, so we were unable to check in prior to beginning the conference. This meant that while everyone in our Round Table groups were forming the foundations of those small communities a couple dozen of us were down in a stuffy office while staff members continued the struggle to find acceptable housing among the apartments we had all been assigned to. Jocelyn Sideco, one of the leadership team members, finished off any expectation I had that this would be just another conference when she looked at us standing in line for apartments that may or may not be ready for us and said “at least you know you have a place to stay, even if you don’t know where it is or if it has linens and toilet paper waiting for you. That is more than some people in New Orleans still have even now”.
As I stumbled off the shuttle with my fellow students into the dark courtyard of the apartments we had been assigned to I realized that I needed Jocelyn’s very honest reminder of my surroundings. As I would discover later the physical scars of the storm were everywhere, including these apartments where we lived and gathered as small Round Table groups.
Worshipping with 108 enthusiastic young leaders from across all denominations was truly inspiring, as were the discussions it often started. It was also a way to discover that there is so much more common ground among Christians than we often give ourselves credit for. I can’t even begin to count the times in my life where worship styles have drawn lines in the sand that have caused argument and dissention where there should have been peace and compromise. I am not saying that I would like to worship in that style all the time – I am, after all, a cradle Episcopalian who loves high church liturgy – but it was truly refreshing to find a middle ground that was nourishing enough that it seemed that everyone could not only participate but learn something new in the process.
New Orleans itself became our teacher outside of worship. The heat and humidity forced many of us to slow down even more than the usual disorientation of a new city, and New Orleans embraced the chance to really force us to pay attention. Our first full day we were out and about getting personally involved by taking a bus tour on our way to various service project sites. It was an incredible experience to stop at various churches and ministries to hear their stories of ongoing recovery and struggle as well as their stories of hope and everyday miracles. As I listened to these stories wash over me and stood in places where so much change was taking place I was able to begin to wrap myself around the scope of the disaster. Like so many people I remembered watching the news about Katrina and the disastrous flooding that had destroyed so much of the city, but I also remember being utterly baffled at the sheer size of what was happening. Now I had no choice but to see the reminders everywhere. The houses still damaged and vacant in so many parts of the city; the marks still spray painted on homes that had been searched one by one for dead bodies, even homes that were inhabited still bore these marks; the contrast in recovery from area to area.
We traveled to the Lower Ninth Ward, one of the hardest hit in the flooding and still one of the least recovered areas of New Orleans. I spent that afternoon at Viet New Orleans, a group that is working to provide a safe place for the children of the neighborhood. In this case it is a primarily Vietnamese population, with the recovery effort led by Mary, Queen of Vietnam church. We picked up debris from when this location had served as a construction dump during the rebuilding of the neighborhood, cleaned playground equipment, painted a volleyball court, and installed fake turf on the beginnings of a mini-golf putting green. Other groups in other locations were helping to cut back overgrown vegetation from lots where houses had been swept away by the flooding, picking up trash, and helping a congregation prepare for a Vacation Bible School. For so many of us, we felt that it was a small drop in the bucket of what was needed and that our efforts wouldn’t have much of an effect. For the communities it was an affirmation that they were not forgotten and that somebody still cares about them even if the media has moved on. In the end it was a potent lesson about the gift of presence. It may not seem very big or important to us, but to the person or community we are with our mere presence may be the biggest gift God could give them at that moment.
The rest of the conference was spent on the campus of Dillard University in discussions, practical workshops, and small groups. Within the context of disaster and recovery we learned about new ways to help make the church relevant to a world that increasingly describes itself as spiritual but not religious and sees churches as irrelevant. In a potent video we watched a couple of times during the conference and is still posted on the FTE website Rev. Dr. Lois Dejean tells us that “I am not just here to talk a scripture. I’m here to do a scripture. To be a scripture. Ministry is no longer just at the pulpit”. This became a powerful reminder that sticks with me as I move forward in my discernment and ministry journey.
One of the tools the conference put into our toolboxes is the VocationCARE practice, which provides a framework for taking a community as well as an individual deep into discernment and acts as a catalyst for ideas and action. CARE is an acronym: C, create space to explore Christian vocation together; A, ask self-awakening questions together; R, reflect theologically on self and community; E, enact ministry opportunities. This formed the foundation not only of the small group discussions but also our large group times and even the way the conference was shaped.
My workshop time was spent with Enuma Okoro, who taught us about writing not only as an agent of community building and storytelling but also of being a faithful witness to the community. We did some writing exercises and discussed the role writers have often held as a reflection back to the community of what it is doing both right and wrong.
In the end, it is the experience of the community as a whole that was the most dynamic piece of this conference. Within that framework God took me and turned many of the things I thought I knew on their heads while also confirming things where I had felt so much doubt and concern.
Once again, God placed me on an airplane home with so much more than I expected and more than just my luggage to unpack. In the chaos of returning home and the sorting and packing involved in my preparations to move and begin seminary I have been quietly unpacking the lessons learned from four days in New Orleans. I have been changed by this experience and I am only now beginning to see those changes emerge. With God’s help they will grow and lead me closer to the heart of the purpose God has laid out for me in this path.
Since Blogger is not allowing me to embed the link to the page with the video and conference information I will do it this way: http://www.fteleaders.org/events/detail/2011-leaders-in-ministry-conference/
It has taken me nearly a month to begin to unpack the lessons and experiences of those few days in New Orleans as part of the Fund for Theological Education 2011 Leaders in Ministry Conference. Sure, I had the experiences. I had the notes I took and the notebook with handouts and schedules. I read blog posts by others who had been there and listened to the recordings of various talks. I also pondered. There has been a whole lot of pondering.
The first day with all of the travel and assorted confusion of checking in and getting situated took me completely out of my comfort zone. The group I was assigned to arrive with was late, so we were unable to check in prior to beginning the conference. This meant that while everyone in our Round Table groups were forming the foundations of those small communities a couple dozen of us were down in a stuffy office while staff members continued the struggle to find acceptable housing among the apartments we had all been assigned to. Jocelyn Sideco, one of the leadership team members, finished off any expectation I had that this would be just another conference when she looked at us standing in line for apartments that may or may not be ready for us and said “at least you know you have a place to stay, even if you don’t know where it is or if it has linens and toilet paper waiting for you. That is more than some people in New Orleans still have even now”.
As I stumbled off the shuttle with my fellow students into the dark courtyard of the apartments we had been assigned to I realized that I needed Jocelyn’s very honest reminder of my surroundings. As I would discover later the physical scars of the storm were everywhere, including these apartments where we lived and gathered as small Round Table groups.
Worshipping with 108 enthusiastic young leaders from across all denominations was truly inspiring, as were the discussions it often started. It was also a way to discover that there is so much more common ground among Christians than we often give ourselves credit for. I can’t even begin to count the times in my life where worship styles have drawn lines in the sand that have caused argument and dissention where there should have been peace and compromise. I am not saying that I would like to worship in that style all the time – I am, after all, a cradle Episcopalian who loves high church liturgy – but it was truly refreshing to find a middle ground that was nourishing enough that it seemed that everyone could not only participate but learn something new in the process.
New Orleans itself became our teacher outside of worship. The heat and humidity forced many of us to slow down even more than the usual disorientation of a new city, and New Orleans embraced the chance to really force us to pay attention. Our first full day we were out and about getting personally involved by taking a bus tour on our way to various service project sites. It was an incredible experience to stop at various churches and ministries to hear their stories of ongoing recovery and struggle as well as their stories of hope and everyday miracles. As I listened to these stories wash over me and stood in places where so much change was taking place I was able to begin to wrap myself around the scope of the disaster. Like so many people I remembered watching the news about Katrina and the disastrous flooding that had destroyed so much of the city, but I also remember being utterly baffled at the sheer size of what was happening. Now I had no choice but to see the reminders everywhere. The houses still damaged and vacant in so many parts of the city; the marks still spray painted on homes that had been searched one by one for dead bodies, even homes that were inhabited still bore these marks; the contrast in recovery from area to area.
We traveled to the Lower Ninth Ward, one of the hardest hit in the flooding and still one of the least recovered areas of New Orleans. I spent that afternoon at Viet New Orleans, a group that is working to provide a safe place for the children of the neighborhood. In this case it is a primarily Vietnamese population, with the recovery effort led by Mary, Queen of Vietnam church. We picked up debris from when this location had served as a construction dump during the rebuilding of the neighborhood, cleaned playground equipment, painted a volleyball court, and installed fake turf on the beginnings of a mini-golf putting green. Other groups in other locations were helping to cut back overgrown vegetation from lots where houses had been swept away by the flooding, picking up trash, and helping a congregation prepare for a Vacation Bible School. For so many of us, we felt that it was a small drop in the bucket of what was needed and that our efforts wouldn’t have much of an effect. For the communities it was an affirmation that they were not forgotten and that somebody still cares about them even if the media has moved on. In the end it was a potent lesson about the gift of presence. It may not seem very big or important to us, but to the person or community we are with our mere presence may be the biggest gift God could give them at that moment.
The rest of the conference was spent on the campus of Dillard University in discussions, practical workshops, and small groups. Within the context of disaster and recovery we learned about new ways to help make the church relevant to a world that increasingly describes itself as spiritual but not religious and sees churches as irrelevant. In a potent video we watched a couple of times during the conference and is still posted on the FTE website Rev. Dr. Lois Dejean tells us that “I am not just here to talk a scripture. I’m here to do a scripture. To be a scripture. Ministry is no longer just at the pulpit”. This became a powerful reminder that sticks with me as I move forward in my discernment and ministry journey.
One of the tools the conference put into our toolboxes is the VocationCARE practice, which provides a framework for taking a community as well as an individual deep into discernment and acts as a catalyst for ideas and action. CARE is an acronym: C, create space to explore Christian vocation together; A, ask self-awakening questions together; R, reflect theologically on self and community; E, enact ministry opportunities. This formed the foundation not only of the small group discussions but also our large group times and even the way the conference was shaped.
My workshop time was spent with Enuma Okoro, who taught us about writing not only as an agent of community building and storytelling but also of being a faithful witness to the community. We did some writing exercises and discussed the role writers have often held as a reflection back to the community of what it is doing both right and wrong.
In the end, it is the experience of the community as a whole that was the most dynamic piece of this conference. Within that framework God took me and turned many of the things I thought I knew on their heads while also confirming things where I had felt so much doubt and concern.
Once again, God placed me on an airplane home with so much more than I expected and more than just my luggage to unpack. In the chaos of returning home and the sorting and packing involved in my preparations to move and begin seminary I have been quietly unpacking the lessons learned from four days in New Orleans. I have been changed by this experience and I am only now beginning to see those changes emerge. With God’s help they will grow and lead me closer to the heart of the purpose God has laid out for me in this path.
Since Blogger is not allowing me to embed the link to the page with the video and conference information I will do it this way: http://www.fteleaders.org/events/detail/2011-leaders-in-ministry-conference/
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Dispatch from The Edge of the World
As one of my friends keeps reminding me, I need to work on my tendency to just drop off the edge of the planet when things get busy! So here is my latest update:
Tomorrow I fly out early on my way to New Orleans, where I will spend several days at Dillard University. This is a really exciting trip, not only because I have never been to New Orleans but because I am taking part in a conference for fellows chosen by the Fund for Theological Education. The unique combination of discussion and hands-on service is something I am truly looking forward to experiencing. The downside is that all anyone can tell me is to bring bug spray and pack for the heat. Two things I don't get along with very well. This will truly be an adventure.
In the meantime I have begun my summer reading for seminary and am enjoying getting back into the study mode. It is a change from my most recent reading which has consisted mostly of re-reading favorite classics and young adult books which I returned to after I decided to give up the fluffy brain candy that wasn't doing me any good. So far I am deep into a memoir by an Army Chaplain called Faith Under Fire as well as A Short Introduction to Anglicanism and have finished Plato and Platypus Walk Into a Bar. There are several more that are beckoning to me, but I still want to have time to crochet a little to keep the meditative balance in my life.
My husband has gone ahead of me and is in training to become a trainer in the Army Reserves. He is doing quite well and is able to give me some hints about the weather I am preparing to move into.
Tomorrow I fly out early on my way to New Orleans, where I will spend several days at Dillard University. This is a really exciting trip, not only because I have never been to New Orleans but because I am taking part in a conference for fellows chosen by the Fund for Theological Education. The unique combination of discussion and hands-on service is something I am truly looking forward to experiencing. The downside is that all anyone can tell me is to bring bug spray and pack for the heat. Two things I don't get along with very well. This will truly be an adventure.
In the meantime I have begun my summer reading for seminary and am enjoying getting back into the study mode. It is a change from my most recent reading which has consisted mostly of re-reading favorite classics and young adult books which I returned to after I decided to give up the fluffy brain candy that wasn't doing me any good. So far I am deep into a memoir by an Army Chaplain called Faith Under Fire as well as A Short Introduction to Anglicanism and have finished Plato and Platypus Walk Into a Bar. There are several more that are beckoning to me, but I still want to have time to crochet a little to keep the meditative balance in my life.
My husband has gone ahead of me and is in training to become a trainer in the Army Reserves. He is doing quite well and is able to give me some hints about the weather I am preparing to move into.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Packing Up
I have been putting off this part of our transition with all of the excitement I can muster about the newness of the life I am called to step into. Partly because I really don't like the idea of living out of boxes for a while. But mostly because I am very afraid of the struggle to let go of what isn't working for me anymore. Living simply is something I have felt called to in my life for a very long time, but there is an inner part of me that is terrified of how free and honest I could be if I truly did live into that call. What gifts and energies I might open up to use in God's work around me, and what might be the next step after giving up the stuff that is holding me back. So now, as I am invited to step into that call in a deeper way than ever before as part of following a larger, more fundamental call I find that I am both exhilarated and terrified. The physical weight that I need to lose (body clutter) is coming off faster than I thought possible, but I know that I am still stuck behind the clutter in my house and my life. Don't get me wrong, the beauty and special things that have no other purpose in life but to make me smile and feel good will most definitely be sticking around. But the other stuff - the stuff I hang on to in the fear that if I get rid of it I'll need or want it or disappoint someone - carries the energy of being stuck. It keeps me trapped in the fear of not enough. Of not being enough, not having enough, not able to give enough. Of wanting and not being able to have. The flip side of that is my new found and slowly strengthening ability to look at things, admire them, dream about how they would make my life more whatever, and then leave them where I found them until their true owner comes along. Unless it truly makes my life sing - like a flattering new pair of pants in a color and fabric I enjoy wearing is on sale for an incredible price just as my stock of wearable pants is down to one or two. It isn't that I am opposed to having things. But as I am packing my things they must pass a new test. Do I need it? Things like the vacuum cleaner fall into this category. It may not be beautiful and I may not smile each time I see it, but I certainly need it to keep my carpets clean. Do I use it? Our Rotisserie oven and upright freezer probably fall into this category. We don't really need them but we use them constantly. On the other hand, the terracotta chicken roaster that sits unused in the cupboard doesn't pass this test. Do I love it? Does it make me happy? The ultimate in the final whittling down of stuff. I have a lot of knick-knacks and heirlooms. Not to mention beautiful teapots and crystal. But some of that crystal and pressed glass has no meaning to me. They were bought at discount stores for no reason other than I wanted a vase or a bowl and didn't have any at the time. Those can go since they have been replaced by wedding gifts and heirlooms that my family has generously shared with me. Even some of the heirlooms will be returning to my parents, especially to my mom, for whom there is much more meaning attached than for me. So while the thrill of answering a deep call carries me forward, I am also dreading the sorting and separating. I know that there will be guilt about some of the things I plan on donating. There will be some anxiety about paring down to the things that actually mean something. In the end I know that it will be worth the work when my surroundings support and energize my husband and I instead of serving as a reminder of all of the stuff that we need to be taking care of.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Update: Beginning of a New Journey
Hello again!
It has been quite a while since I have checked in here at the virtual cottage, and I find that now that I am back things will be changing to keep up with the developments in the non-virtual cottage. I know I hinted at some big changes, and many of the changes that are happening are ones that I had not even dreamed of when I wrote my last post.
So to the changes:
I have been accepted to seminary. Starting in the Fall. While this is a huge step in a direction that I have felt called to for a good portion of my life it is just now happening and I am beginning to finally accept that my acceptance there is real. It is the first step in my particular journey to priesthood, and I could not be more thrilled that God has finally allowed me to take this step.
As such the cottage will be pulling up roots and moving to Berkeley sometime this Summer. In the meantime there will be a huge state of flux here as we sort and separate things to toss, things to donate, things to store, and things to take. I'm not a big fan of chaos (or of moving) so this is a big test for me. I've always wanted to fully embrace the simple life and this is offering me a chance to truly evaluate that desire and to put it into practice.
It also means that the virtual cottage will be changing a bit. I'm hoping to post here to help my friends and family keep up with some of the things going on as I begin this new stage in my journey and there will be a decidedly more faith-based accent to my writing. I have a lot to explore, and this is a great place to be a part of the online community of others on a journey within themselves and their faith lives.
It has been quite a while since I have checked in here at the virtual cottage, and I find that now that I am back things will be changing to keep up with the developments in the non-virtual cottage. I know I hinted at some big changes, and many of the changes that are happening are ones that I had not even dreamed of when I wrote my last post.
So to the changes:
I have been accepted to seminary. Starting in the Fall. While this is a huge step in a direction that I have felt called to for a good portion of my life it is just now happening and I am beginning to finally accept that my acceptance there is real. It is the first step in my particular journey to priesthood, and I could not be more thrilled that God has finally allowed me to take this step.
As such the cottage will be pulling up roots and moving to Berkeley sometime this Summer. In the meantime there will be a huge state of flux here as we sort and separate things to toss, things to donate, things to store, and things to take. I'm not a big fan of chaos (or of moving) so this is a big test for me. I've always wanted to fully embrace the simple life and this is offering me a chance to truly evaluate that desire and to put it into practice.
It also means that the virtual cottage will be changing a bit. I'm hoping to post here to help my friends and family keep up with some of the things going on as I begin this new stage in my journey and there will be a decidedly more faith-based accent to my writing. I have a lot to explore, and this is a great place to be a part of the online community of others on a journey within themselves and their faith lives.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
New Year
Things here at the cottage have been a bit hectic of late, and computing time has been quite limited. The four-legged ones are quite demanding in making sure they get their share of lap time daily, and with the hurry and scurry of working retail during the holidays that time has been severely curtailed! Somehow, providing the necessary lap time has been more important than computer time and I find that it has been a blessing to simply unwind when I get home late at night with a cat on my lap and a dog beside me.
There has been much discussion about the future here at the cottage as well. The four-legged ones haven't really had much to say, but those of us who have two legs and are responsible for it all have sure been talking about it! Not only because it is a New Year, but also because it marks a season of new beginnings in all of our lives. My husband has lost his job - and the backstabbing involved in my firing was a massage and spa day compared to what the same people are putting him through! - which is necessitating a very new beginning for us along with a time of grief and turning inward to heal and figure out what next. One or the other of us (briefly both of us at the same time) have worked for this group since we met, and so there has been no time in our relationship that has not been under the shadow of this group of people. While it is very much a blessing to not have them watching over our shoulders and judging our private lives as well as our work lives it is a bit disconcerting to realize that there has never been a time when we were not somehow under their influence!
Dreaming big, praying, and a good bit of shuffling things around are the order of the day here!
There has been much discussion about the future here at the cottage as well. The four-legged ones haven't really had much to say, but those of us who have two legs and are responsible for it all have sure been talking about it! Not only because it is a New Year, but also because it marks a season of new beginnings in all of our lives. My husband has lost his job - and the backstabbing involved in my firing was a massage and spa day compared to what the same people are putting him through! - which is necessitating a very new beginning for us along with a time of grief and turning inward to heal and figure out what next. One or the other of us (briefly both of us at the same time) have worked for this group since we met, and so there has been no time in our relationship that has not been under the shadow of this group of people. While it is very much a blessing to not have them watching over our shoulders and judging our private lives as well as our work lives it is a bit disconcerting to realize that there has never been a time when we were not somehow under their influence!
Dreaming big, praying, and a good bit of shuffling things around are the order of the day here!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Waltz Anyone?
As with all good intentions, the one to try to write at least every other week has fallen by the wayside as my family and I have been walking a difficult path these last few months. It has seemed so difficult to face the day on some days that I simply stare at my computer, at this link to a community of loving people, and turn away to sit quietly in my chair in the corner and think.
Transitions are yucky, uncomfortable, beautiful, messy seasons in our lives. It becomes so difficult to see the beauty when you are in the midst of the mess, and it has been more important than ever for me to nurse my inner hermit with long stretches of silence and sitting in contemplation of the current moment.
I started this blog during a very low point in my life with my husband's encouragement. I chose my name - Sulwyn - and created a character in my mind for this wise woman and her quiet cottage. Somehow, this wise woman I thought I had created in my imagination is becoming a deeper part of me. That I have called her out of my depths into my reality, and I love the wisdom that she is sharing with me. But I have continued to hold her at arm's length, to believe that she is somehow imaginary - like the imaginary friends from childhood who nonetheless gave you good advice. But even this is changing, and I am embracing the reality of this part of myself. It isn't easy, and sometimes I fail to recognize the growth that she is calling me into. Sometimes I turn away from that growth because I am afraid of it. But that is honest and true fear speaking, and eventually we waltz together and I end up on the other side somehow and I am stronger for it.
All of this to say that my writing will likely be erratic for a while still. There are some mighty big waltzes with any number of fears currently and ahead of me. But I am still here, still reading and following the things my friends share. Still praying for all of you.
Transitions are yucky, uncomfortable, beautiful, messy seasons in our lives. It becomes so difficult to see the beauty when you are in the midst of the mess, and it has been more important than ever for me to nurse my inner hermit with long stretches of silence and sitting in contemplation of the current moment.
I started this blog during a very low point in my life with my husband's encouragement. I chose my name - Sulwyn - and created a character in my mind for this wise woman and her quiet cottage. Somehow, this wise woman I thought I had created in my imagination is becoming a deeper part of me. That I have called her out of my depths into my reality, and I love the wisdom that she is sharing with me. But I have continued to hold her at arm's length, to believe that she is somehow imaginary - like the imaginary friends from childhood who nonetheless gave you good advice. But even this is changing, and I am embracing the reality of this part of myself. It isn't easy, and sometimes I fail to recognize the growth that she is calling me into. Sometimes I turn away from that growth because I am afraid of it. But that is honest and true fear speaking, and eventually we waltz together and I end up on the other side somehow and I am stronger for it.
All of this to say that my writing will likely be erratic for a while still. There are some mighty big waltzes with any number of fears currently and ahead of me. But I am still here, still reading and following the things my friends share. Still praying for all of you.
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