Moving on: I got home last night from my first grown-up vacation ever. Naturally, I decided to vacate to the place where I once lived and worked. And it was nothing short of glorious. After traveling day one, running around day two, and shooting an engagement session day three, I didn’t make the effort to pick my camera up the rest of the week. All I have for you is this:

And I took it this morning. In Delaware. I share it with you now because I missed this little mug while I was gone.

Besides for drinking out of Tracy’s mugs, you may wonder what I did with my time (after the first few days of craziness). I slept. I read. I slept a bit more and read a little bit more after that. I went shopping and bought a dress. Then I helped out at my church’s vacation Bible school. Then I sweated profusely. I sat on the lake, I cruised the lake, I read next to the lake. Did I mention I slept?

When I wasn’t sleeping or reading I was spending time with dear, dear friends. Most of my trips up there recently have been a whirlwind of catchupcatchupcatchup/howmanytimescanIrepeatthisbeforeIgoinsane. This time around, I had seven days to spend time with people and reconnect with my old community; I played games (and won, mind you), I made new friends and I laughed. I laughed a lot.

Words cannot express how good this time was for me; on top of all the necessary resting and laughing, I prayed. I surrendered. I reconnected with Jesus. If there were one theme to sum up my vacation, it would lie in the words of one of my favorite hymns:

1. ’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to take Him at His word;
Just to rest upon His promise,
Just to know “Thus saith the Lord!”

2. O how sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to trust His cleansing blood;
Just in simple faith to plunge me
’Neath the healing, cleansing flood!

3. Yes ’tis sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just from sin and self to cease;
Just from Jesus simply taking
Life and rest, and joy and peace.

4. I’m so glad I learned to trust Thee,
Precious Jesus, Savior, friend;
And I know that Thou art with me,
Wilt be with me to the end.

Refrain: Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust Him more!

(Tis so Sweet to Trust in Jesus, Public Domain)

I’ve seen birth, I’ve babysat some pretty stellar kids and I’ve had shared the disappointment that comes with disciplining them. That’s it though. Mere snapshots in the life of my friends’ children.

Tonight, however, I know grief. Grief over a child who blatantly tells you one thing when you know it to be another. Only moments have passed since the incident but I am still in disbelief. I can’t believe she lied to me.

My eleven-year-old little sister blatantly told me something upon a questioning that didn’t quite fit the evidence before her. I let her go, but as I mulled it over I called her in again. Tears welled up in her eyes as she finally confessed that she had lied to me because she didn’t want to get in trouble. Tears welled up in my eyes as this new broken heart appeared before me.

My dear, sweet, sweet little sister. When have you ever seriously gotten in trouble in this house? With me?

I sent her to read on her bed while I prayed for wisdom. How do I handle this? What will reach her heart?

Dear mothers, I still don’t claim to know much about motherhood but I have caught a new glimpse into it. How you can daily look at your children — in full knowledge that your every action and all your words count for something — and not collapse under the weight of the task that is mothering is beyond me. You continue to astound me.

This is the closest I’ve ever felt to being a mother. Grief. Today I’ve learned there is no joy, no satisfaction, no appeasement in catching your child in a lie.

Manifesto happens to be my new favorite word. Check this out.

I read this this morning and thought you may benefit from it as well. While it’s Milton Vincent‘s manifesto, I’m thinking of adopting it as my own. It’s from his book, A Gospel Primer; you may remember me blogging about it before.

Boldness is Critical. Without boldness, my life story will be one of great deeds left undone, victories left unwon, petitions left unprayed and timely words unsaid.  If I wish to only live a pathetically small portion of the life God has prepared for me, then I need no boldness. But if I want my life to bloom full and loom large for the glory of God, then I must have boldness — and nothing so nourishes boldness in me like the gospel!

The gospel gives me boldness first by banishing my greatest fear, the fear of God’s eternal wrath. Indeed, Christ bore God’s wrath upon Himself, not simply so I could escape that wrath on some future day, but also that I might be released from the daily fear of such wrath as I think ahead to judgment day. Because this fear hinders the ongoing work of God in me, the love of God continually expels this fear (whenever it appears) and nurtures within me a confident eagerness to face God on judgment day. Living in the daily relief of this fear frees me up to continue being perfected in confidence by the love of God, and it also serves to put all other fears, especially the fear of man, into perspective.

Additionally, the more I experience the life-transforming power of the gospel, the more confidently I am in speaking it to others, both saved and lost. I know what the gospel can do in people’s lives if they would believe the fullness of it, because I see what it is doing in me and in others. Therefore, I have increasing boldness to speak the whole gospel to others, even amid opposition.

Also, the more I comprehend what God has done for me through Christ, the more I find myself confidently coming before God in prayer, speaking to Him in situations in which I formerly would have shrunk from Him, and offering requests that I formerly would have been too timid to offer (due either to the largeness of the request or my own sinful unworthiness). With greater boldness in prayer comes an increased enjoyment of God and the bounty that He gives, due simply to the fact that I was daring enough to ask for what was needed.

Preaching the gospel to myself each day nourishes with me a holy brazenness to believe what God says, enjoy what He offers, and do what He commands. Admittedly, I don’t deserve to be a child of God and I don’t deserve to be free of sin’s guilt and power. I don’t deserve the staggering privilege of intimacy with God, nor any other blessings that Christ has purchased for me with His blood. I don’t even deserve to be useful to God. But by the grace of God I am what I am and I have what I have, and I hereby resolve to not let any portion of God’s grace prove vain in me! And to the the degree that I fail to live up to this resolve, I will boldly take for myself the forgiveness that God says is mine and continue to walk in His grace. This is my manifesto, my daily resolve; and may God be glorified by this confidence that I place in Him.

I remember one Sunday just after Christmas two years ago that we were already getting quite a bit of snow and scheduled to get more. I wanted more than anything to get to church (it’s a favorite of mine), so I left an hour early and drove all eleven miles in second gear. Smart? Probably not, but that’s the culture I lived in. We didn’t let the snow dictate our lives.

Fast forward a few years and a few hundred miles later. I don’t live in upstate NY anymore. I live in Delaware. A place where it’s merely chilly all winter long and snow falls two inches in February — if you’re lucky. Yesterday, the 19th of December, Delaware receives the biggest December snow storm in 100 years (I think that’s what the news guy said). Two feet of fluffy powder.

My dad blamed it all on me. He threatened to send me back to NY.

I’ve been home for about a month now and I think this has been the biggest culture shock. Two feet of snow and Delaware is in a state of emergency. People don’t know how to handle it, what to do with it, how to play in it, how their cars handle in it. Which is why church is canceled. People get in snow related accidents because they don’t have a clue.

Honestly, I’m ok with church being canceled. I don’t think I remember how to handle my car in the snow and wouldn’t feel comfortable driving. In lieu of not going to church, I decided to do a little church here at home. Several things were lacking: getting dressed, a community of believers worshiping around me and those poinsettias that decorate the building this time of year (although I do have one in my room). But something was not lacking: the Word of God. I listened to a sermon preached by my pastor up in NY. It was good to hear his voice again, to hear a charge to the congregation that I know so well. You can listen to it here, if you’re interested.

This is a photo of what the snowfall looked like last night from my front porch:

All of the activities this morning reminded me of something I’ve been meaning to do here. So because church is canceled, follow me please to 1 Corinthians 13. We have an exercise to do.

Here we have a description of what love is:
“4 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant 5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 6 it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. 7 Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

Jesus tells us in Matthew 22:37 “And he said to him, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. 38 This is the great and first commandment. 39 And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. 40 On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.”

We are told to love God and others by Jesus himself and then the Apostle Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians what love looks like.

I recently listened to another sermon by my pastor in NY and he suggested this exercise: in 1 Cor. 13, replace the word ‘love’ with your name and see how your life measures up to our description of love. I may feel that I love well, but when my attitude is held against the blaring light of scripture, I fail.

See here: Christina is patient and kind; Christina does not envy or boast; she is not arrogant or rude. She does not insist in her own way; she is not irritable or resentful; she does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but she rejoices with the truth. Christina bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

There is no way that I measure up to that. I cannot meet those standards when it comes to my relationship with God. I cannot meet those standards when it comes to my relationship with others. Not being able to meet these standards is worthy of punishment from the almighty, holy and righteous God.

This is where Jesus comes in. Romans 5:
6 For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 7 For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— 8 but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 9 Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. 10 For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. 11 More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.

Jesus took the punishment I deserve (not only for failing to love, but for the vast, uncountable other atrocities I have displayed against God), so that I may live for Him fully without guilt or need to continue sinning.

This, my friends, is the wonderful mystery that surrounds Christmas. It’s not just God’s birthday. To simply call it such is removing this day we celebrate from it’s intended glory.

God became man. Creator became His creation. In order that He may reconcile sinners to a holy God.

These are lyrics from a Sovereign Grace Christmas song, How Sweet the Day. It’s a favorite and sums up this post quite well.

How sweet the day when Christ was born
When God Himself took human form
He came to wash our sins away
Our death to die, our debt to pay

How sweet the day when Hope appeared
The One who frees us from our fears
He came to break the power of sin
And give us power to follow Him

Oh sing for joy, lift up your voice
Let us sing for joy, the whole earth rejoice
Let us sing for joy to the Son
For Jesus our Savior has come

How sweet the day when Christ returns
We’ll see the One for whom we yearn
Then we’ll look full upon His face
Our hearts will burst with songs of praise

Come, Lord Jesus, come

This morning, while reading and praying, I was thanking the Lord for prayers he has specifically answered these past few weeks; particularly prayers in regard to anxiety. I suppose I should have posted about that first, then moved on to patience, but who’s counting?

So I was thanking God for releasing me from the bondage of anxiety and wondering “what’s next?” Where is that next lesson coming from? Then I thought, “it’ll probably be in regards to patience.” The two are so closely tied to one another, so we’ll see what happens. But I thought it was funny when my landlord discipler handed me some note cards with quotes on them this afternoon.

The first bunch are from Elizabeth Elliot:

“Waiting requires patience — a willingness to calmly accept what we have or have not, where we are or where we wish we were, whomever we live or work with.”

“To want wat we don’t have is impatience, for one thing, and it is to mistrust God. Is He not in complete control of all circumstances, events and conditions? If some are beyond His control, He is not God…A spirit of resistance cannot wait on God.”

“Restlessness and impatience change nothing except our peace and joy. Peace does not dwell in outward things, but in the heart prepared to wait trustfully and quietly in Him who has all things safely in His hands.”

“He is my Lord, I must not forget that whatever He allows to happen becomes, for me, His will at that moment…The need to wait is, for me, a form of chastening. God has to calm me down, make me shut up and look to Him for the outcome.”

“His message to me every day is wait, be still, trust, and obey.”

“Wait patiently for the Lord. He will turn to you and hear your cry. It is amazing how clear things become when we are still before Him, not complaining, not insisting on quick answers, only seeking to hear His word in the stillness, and to see things in His light. Few are willing to receive that sort of reply.”

And this last one is from Francis Chan:

“When you pray, your prayers are heard by the same God who answered Moses’ prayer for water in the desert, the God who gave Abraham and his barren wife a son, and the God who made the slave Joseph second in power only to Pharaoh.”

During what will most likely be my last communion service at my church, we sang two hymns that the Lord completely used to remind me of some things. The first forced me to make a decision: will I embrace this time (of uncertainty, of unemployment, etc.) as a good and worthy lesson to be harvested? And the second hymn affirmed my decision. I choose Jesus.

Trusting Jesus — Edgar P. Stites

Simply trusting every day, Trusting thro’ a stormy way;
Even when my faith is small, Trusting Jesus– that is all.

Trusting as the moments fly, Trusting as the days go by;
Trusting Him whate’er befall, Trusting Jesus– that is all.

Brightly doth his Spirit shine Into this poor heart of mine;
While He leads I cannot fall, Trusting Jesus– that is all.

Trusting as the moments fly, Trusting as the days go by;
Trusting Him whate’er befall, Trusting Jesus– that is all.

Singing if my way is clear, Praying if the path be drear;
If in danger, for Him call, Trusting Jesus– that is all.

Trusting as the moments fly, Trusting as the days go by;
Trusting Him whate’er befall, Trusting Jesus– that is all.

Trusting Him while life shall last, Trusting Him till earth be past;
Till within the jasper wall, Trusting Jesus– that is all.

Trusting as the moments fly, Trusting as the days go by;
Trusting Him whate’er befall, Trusting Jesus– that is all.

In the Garden — C. Austin Miles

I come to the garden alone, While the dew is still on the roses;
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear, The Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there None other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of His voice Is so sweet the birds hush their singing;
And the melody that He gave to me Within my heard is ringing.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there None other has ever known.

I’d stay in the garden with Him Tho’ the night around me be falling;
But He bids me go, thro’ the voice of woe; His voice to me is calling.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there None other has ever known.

And one more that we sung this morning at church. I can’t get it out of my head today.

I Am Thine, O Lord — Fanny J. Crosby

I am Thine, O Lord; I have heard Thy voice, And it told Thy love to me.
But I long to rise in the arms of faith, And be closer drawn to Thee.

Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To the cross where Thou hast died.
Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To Thy precious bleeding side.

Consecrate me now to They service, Lord, By the pow’r of grace divine.
Let my soul look up with a steadfast hope, And my will be lost in Thine.

Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To the cross where Thou hast died.
Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To Thy precious bleeding side.

O the pure delight  of a single hour That before Thy throne I spend,
When I kneel in prayer and with Thee, my God, I commune as friend with friend!

Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To the cross where Thou hast died.
Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To Thy precious bleeding side.

There are depths of love that I cannot know Till I cross the narrow sea;
There are heights of joy that I may not reach Till I rest in peace with Thee.

Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To the cross where Thou hast died.
Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To Thy precious bleeding side.

May it be so.

“1 On one occasion, while the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he was standing by the lake of Gennesaret, 2 and he saw two boats by the lake, but the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. 3 Getting into one of the boats, which was Simon’s, he asked him to put out a little from the land. And he sat down and taught the people from the boat. 4 And when he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch. 5 And Simon answered, Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets. 6 And when they had done this, they enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking. 7 They signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink. 8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord. 9 For he and all who were with him were astonished at the catch of fish that they had taken, 10 and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. And Jesus said to Simon, Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men. 11 And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed him.” — Luke 5:1-11 (ESV)

What strikes me first about this scene is that the men who were about to become disciples of Jesus had been fishing. all. night. long. Verse 5 says, “we toiled all night and took nothing!” These guys had seen failure. Failing for them meant no food on the table; everything relied on them pulling in some fish during the night. And here comes Jesus, some famous teacher that crowds kept following around. This carpenter’s son tells the professional fisherman to cast their nets again. Simon, either out of desperation or having somewhat of a clue as to who Jesus really was (probably the latter), replied, “But at your word, I will let down the nets.” This is similar to Jesus telling Ryan Howard to swing the baseball bat without a pitcher on the mound and the promise of a home run resounding in his voice. There was no. way. that they would yield any catch. But at Jesus’ word, Simon and others were radically obedient.

Could I be that radically obedient after a night of failure? Pulling empty net in after empty net? Swing after swing? Simon Peter, James and John did. And their yield almost sunk the boats. Do I have the faith that my yield will sink boats? Can I really cast in my net after a day of failure?

What hits me the hardest in this scene is the fishermen’s reactions. After recognizing who Jesus was and how vulnerable, bare and imperfect they were before Him, Jesus says, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” And verse 11: “And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed him.”

They fished all. night. long. And caught nothing. They encounter Jesus and now they have tons and tons of fish. Food for the table. Profit for savings. Abundance to be generous with. A little extra to buy something frivolous for the family. What would you do?

They left it all to follow Him. They were staring at the Treasure of Heaven and recognized it.

Can I, staring at a day’s labor and a bunch of empty nets, cast them in again? Can I be obedient to the point of irrational fishing? Then, when God Himself provides, can I stare at Him and recognize Him as more valuable then what I have been striving after all this time?

Will I leave everything (successes and failures) to follow Him?

“The gospel serves as the means by which God daily constructs me into what He wants me to be and also serves every day of my Christian life. Hence, it could be said that the gospel contains all that I need “for life and godliness.” (2 Peter 1:3). It is for this reason that God tells me to be steadfastly entrenched in the gospel at all times and never to allow myself to be moved from there (Colossians 1:23). The mere fact that God tells me to stay inside the gospel at all times must mean that He intends to supply all of my needs as long as I am abiding in that place of luxury (Colossians 2:8-10).”  — Milton Vincent* in The Gospel Primer

Here at The Hood I have a friend who has the opportunity to pray with the speakers that come in each week. He has expressed several times that he often feels like an ant in a giant’s world when it comes to praying with some of these men.  He told us (the staff) one week of a story about how the Lord used the circumstances revolving around one of these prayer sessions to remind him of God’s majesty and faithfulness:

One particular Sunday, said-friend made his way up to the executive office. Arriving early, he placed his things down and departed for a moment to chat with someone. Upon his re-entry to the scene at hand, he walked in on Ravi Zacharias looking over his Amazon Kindle.

“Ravi Zacharias is looking at my Kindle; this is so cool,” thought my friend. They had a brief conversation over the piece of electronic equipment and moved into their prayer session with others. For the rest of the morning, confessed my friend as he was retelling the tale, he couldn’t help but smile in excitement over his interaction with one of the most brilliant apologists of our day. “Ravi Zacharias knows who I am; he likes my Kindle… I hope we run into each other, so we can make another connection over our common bond.”

Then it hit him. The Lord of creation, the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the Faithful One, the Savior of the world saw fit to die a sinner’s death on our behalf and raise again to life so that we could connect with him. And he’s more excited about a mere man knowing who he is.

How often do we look at prayer in complacency? How often do we look at something so miraculous as conversing with GOD and cast it aside as normal? Our vision can be so skewed; on one hand we have a celebrity who takes the time to value something in us and on the other hand we have Jesus Christ who made us valuable. How often do we place our identity in people?

I tell this story simply to remind us that we have a God who hears. This short statement has been rocking my world this summer; I want to proclaim it from the hilltops. We have a God who hears. The very Being who formed the heavens and the earth wants to connect with us; He wants to listen.

I leave you with a post from The Blazing Center. Essentially, I’m quoting a quote, but that’s how the internet works. To see the original post, click here.

I’ve talked a lot about how my prayers often feel weak and powerless. I found this quote by Paul Miller from A Praying Life to be very encouraging:
–
Imagine that your prayer is a poorly dressed beggar reeking of alcohol and body odor, stumbling toward the palace of the great king. You have become your prayer. As you shuffle toward the barred gate, the guards stiffen. Your smell has preceded you. You stammer out a message for the great king: “I want to see the king.” Your words are barely intelligible, but you whisper one final word, “Jesus. I come in the name of Jesus.”

At the name of Jesus, as if by magic, the palace comes alive. The guards snap to attention, bowing low in front of you. Lights come on, and the door flies open. You are ushered into the palace and down a long hallway in to the throne room of the great king, who comes running to you and wraps you in his arms.

The name of Jesus gives my prayers royal access. They get through. Jesus isn’t just the Savior of my soul. He’s also the Savior of my prayers. My prayers come before the throne of God as the prayers of Jesus. “Asking in Jesus’ name” isn’t another thing I have to get right so my prayers are perfect. It is one more gift of God because my prayers are so imperfect.

I’m currently working through a commentary on the book of Romans by John Stott and here is what he had to say on this small, but very important phrase:

“Why did Paul desire to bring the nations to the obedience of faith? It was for the sake of the glory and honour of Christ’s name. For God had ‘exalted him to the highest place’ and had given him ‘the name that is above every name’, in order that ‘at the name of Jesus every knee should bow … and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord’. If, therefore, God desires every knee to bow to Jesus and every tongue to confess him, so should we. We should be ‘jealous’ (as Scripture sometimes puts it) for the honour of his name – troubled when it remains unknown, hurt when it is ignored, indignant when it is blasphemed, and all the time anxious and determined that it shall be given the honour and glory which are due it.”

Take the time to re-read that last sentence, for it’s the most convicting one. Whe you’re done, I’ll let John continue:

“The highest of all missionary motives is neither obedience to the Great Commission (important as that is), nor love for sinners who are alienated and perishing (strong as that incentive is, especially when we contemplate the wrath of God), but rather zeal – burning passionate zeal – for the glory of Jesus Christ.”

Go ahead. Let that one sink in for a moment. He continues:

“Some evangelism, to be sure, is no better than a thinly disguised form of imperialism, whenever our real ambition is for the honour of our nation, church, organization, or ourselves. Only one imperialism is Christian, however, and that is concern for His Imperial Majesty Jesus Christ, and for the glory of his empire or kingdom. The earliest Christians, John tells us, went out ‘for the sake of the Name’. He does not specify to which name he is referring. But we know. And Paul tells us. It is the incomparable name of Jesus. Before this supreme goal of the Christian mission, all unworthy motives wither and die.

“To sum up, here are six fundamental truths about the gospel. Its origin is God the Father and its substance Jesus Christ his Son. Its attestation is Old Testament Scripture and it’s scope all the nations. Our immediate purpose in proclaiming it is to bring people to the obedience of faith, but our ultimate goal is the greater glory of the name of Jesus Christ. Or, to simplify these truths by the use of six prepositions, we cans say that the good news is the gospel of God, about Christ, according to Scripture, for the nations, unto the obedience of faith, and for the sake of the Name.”

I’ve been pondering on what John Stott says here for a few weeks now. It has fueled the foundation for two lessons and several conversations. John’s main focus here is missions but I cannot help but bring his insight into daily-life. Will I boldly honor the name of Jesus Christ?

Will I be “anxious and determined that it shall be given the honour and glory which are due it”?

Thoughts on Easter:

We met together on Good Friday night to have a time of singing and prayer, which was a blessing, and as we sang, the drone of the mosque echoed in the background. The next day, I thought about that contrast: that Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, so many years ago, had to be one of the greatest days of despair in all of history, for God seemed silent. And still He was not gone, because the Father was there, and no doubt upholding the disciples, though they did not know it. To their human hearts, however, all they knew was the Messiah had died, which was never supposed to happen. But their hope, and our hope, doesn’t die there, because Easter Sunday came. These people, however, worship and pray to a god who is eternally silent. I cannot imagine that despair. He does not act on their behalf, he does not comfort, he does not have a plan, he is not loving and gracious, he is silent. They live their lives believing and bowing to a lie, and we have been set free by the truth. The truth that God “…spoke in time past to the fathers by the prophets, [and] has in these last days spoken to us by His son…” (Hebrews 1:1-2) and forever continues to speak through Christ our mediator.