Hide And Seek

Can you remember that classic childhood favorite of Hide-n-Seek? It seemed to be a love or hate relationship for most kids with that game. Being the insanely intense person that I am I either got a panic attack waiting to be found or felt unprecedented anxiety at the possibility that maybe my friends were too well concealed and I wouldn’t find them at all! I always hated being the seeker but I kind of liked hiding. Even with the killer anticipation of waiting to be found, I always thought I had snagged the best spot on the premise. Whether that was true or not could be debated, but at the time I was convinced.

Then I got a little older. I started babysitting and working in a daycare and I became the “adult” in the game. I can remember telling the kids that I had a great spot to hide in and they would never find me. No sooner had they closed their eyes to start counting then I would sit in a chair, in the middle of the room and throw a blanket over my head. Of course, they found me immediately because I didn’t really want to play that game and tried to make it end as soon as possible. “Miss Meaghan,” they would say, “you didn’t hide good. We found you right away,” which is what I wanted anyway. And they never really understood why my “great” hiding spot was not so great.

As Christians we play a game of hide-n-seek too; not so much with God (at least, it shouldn’t be with God) but with the world around us. Colossians 3:3 says, “For you died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” Now the world might find that just a little bit demeaning and damaging to the self-esteem. That’s not encouraging. That’s not uplifting. That doesn’t make me feel better about myself. Well, it isn’t meant too. The gospel was never intended to make us feel good about ourselves, but rather to help us realize how spiritually bankrupt we are. Only when we come to the end of ourselves do we understand that it is in Christ we are new creations, in Christ we have been made right with God, in Christ we have the will and power to be and do all that we were meant to become and accomplish. As one brilliant man once said, “When the Creator of matter tells you that you matter, then you have purpose and then you have self-esteem.” (Brad Stine, conservative Christian comedian) So as Christians we should all have come to a place of recognizing that we are nothing and, in effect, end in failure. It is only Christ that makes us alive.

Romans 8:29 tells us for what purpose we have been saved – that we might be conformed to the image of Jesus Christ. Ah ha, here’s where the hide-n-seek comes into play (no pun intended). If our hearts, if my heart, is soft to the Holy Spirit’s voice and growing daily in the knowledge of Christ, then you and I will become hidden in Jesus. To be dead and hidden literally means “to cease functioning” and “to be concealed.” As we continue to walk with Jesus we will disappear and only Christ will be visible.

I want to live the kind of radical Christianity (which I suppose should be typical Christianity) where the people around me look at me and try to find me, but all they can see is Jesus. I will never be perfect; that is for sure. But I would rather have them see Jesus first. I would rather have them struggle to find me. Honestly, I’m not all that impressive. There really is nothing worth looking at. But Jesus! He is the One. How much better to see Him, even if it means that Meaghan goes unnoticed.

If you want to find the best hiding spot, hide yourself in Christ. Bury yourself in His Word and in His presence each day, that we might humbly say with the apostle Paul, “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20)

The Face of Christ

It was a beautiful evening on Nangombe. Well, let's face it; every evening on Nangombe is beautiful. So I'm a little bias; it's one of my favorite places on earth. Lush and green and just amazing in every way. I glanced around the group gathered for Thursday night Bible study. There were benches set up in a circle. All of the children were standing, giving the seats to the adults. To one side was the "band" which consisted of 2 drums and a flock of singers. I was part of the singers, only problem was I didn't know most of the songs. The Luganda songs that we sang on Nangombe were different than the ones we sang in Entebbe, because they were mostly local songs. It really didn't matter. Everyone else knew the songs, and covered up for my lack of knowledge. But as I looked across the circle, I smiled as I observed one of the kids.

                Juka Derrick. His smile captured me first. It's kind of a shy, sheepish type of smile. Whenever he would laugh, his head would go down, as though to cover it up but when we looked up, his eyes had disappeared in the laughter. His smile is huge. Derrick loves to have fun. I can remember "fights" in the dust fields in the back field of the farm, balancing competitions on tires, soccer games, making faces . . . so many good times. To me, Derrick became the face of Jesus. So many children did, but him in particular. When I left Uganda, I left with memories and the chilling concern of when I would see Jesus again. I lived in my country for 23 years and never had I experienced the emotion or conviction of being face to face with Christ like I had with Derrick. The proposition scared me.

Jesus has another face though. He doesn't disappear

About a week after we got back to the States we went into Kalispell. As I walked down the side walk, I can remember thinking to myself, Lord, I don't see You. Please, show me Your face. I know that You are here, just like You were in Nangombe and Entebbe, just like in the faces of those I grew to love in Africa, but I can't see you right now. Just then we were passing Target and sitting about 10 feet from the entrance was a man, probably in his 60's, coloring in a coloring book. He was obviously homeless. We walked by, and I couldn't help but wonder. It seemed a strange spot for him. But I kept walking.

Before long, I heard a still small voice. You asked me where I was, to show you My face. You just passed Me by.

I turned and there he was, sitting there, alone, hungry and without friends. This wasn’t merely a homeless man loafing around outside a store . . . this was Jesus! And the words rang in my head, In as much as you’ve done it to the least of these My brethren, you’ve done it unto Me. Jesus always associated Himself with the poor and humble. Rarely do we see Him in the company of the rich and powerful. I went and sat with the man for a while. His name is Jose. He barely speaks English, but from what I could understand, he lost his job, can’t find another one and has no family. He never asked for a dime; he was only happy to have someone stop and talk to him, rather than look judgmentally down at him as they hurried about their way. When we finished praying and I rose to leave, I felt a joy well up deep inside of me, an inexplicable satisfaction. Not a pat-myself-on-the-back, look-what-a-good-thing-you-did satisfaction. But the kind of satisfaction that comes after a cool drink of water on a hot day. I was hungry for Christ and He found me, and gave me of Himself.

That was 4 months ago. It would be a lie if I told you that I see Christ everywhere after having that experience. I still struggle to see Jesus in people and to remember that everybody’s got a story, everybody’s got a need and as Christ’s follower, I just may be the one to meet that need, if I have the heart and the eyes to see it. Each day, God is so faithful to give me the opportunity to see Him, though. Regardless of how He is dressed, where He is walking, how much money is in His wallet, what kind of car He does or doesn’t drive, He is out there. Don’t miss the opportunity to minister to the least of these; when you do, you minister to Christ. And when you minister to Jesus, He fills up those aching places with Himself. Wherever we go, whatever we do, let us be on the look-out for Jesus.

 Open your eyes to the world all around you open your eyes, open your eyes.
This world is much more than the things that surround you.
You must arise, and open your eyes.
Sometimes we're too busy to share, but Jesus wants to care, to care.

Open your arms to the naked and shivering, open your arms, open your arms.
We need a little less taking, a whole lot more giving.
We're so safe and warm, we can open our arms.
And love a little bit stronger, and pray a little bit longer, longer.

Jesus says, when we love someone in His name, we're loving Him.
Jesus says, when we touch someone in His name, we're touching Him.
And we've got to show them the light, we've got to pour out our lives.

Open your hearts to the ones who are desperate, open your hearts, open your hearts.
They may never repay you, but their souls are worth it,
The life you impart when you open your heart.
Jesus loves all men the same,
So we've got to go out in His name.

Jesus says, when we touch someone in His name, we're touching Him.
Jesus says, when we love someone in His name, we're loving Him.
Jesus says, when we feed someone in His name, we're feeding Him.
And Jesus says, when we reach someone in His name,
He feels, He says, it's all for Him.
It's all for Him



.                              

O Lord, Increase Our Faith

Yesterday I was reading John 6, about the feeding of the 5000, or 20,000 if you want to be that way about it. Jesus lifts His eyes and sees the multitudes coming towards Him. Throngs of people, each with a myriad of problems. Jesus saw all the issues, sickness and sin, relational and financial troubles, spiritual bankruptcy and personal poverty. All of it lay bare and naked before the eyes of Christ. But rather than all of that, He deals with something that, comparatively, seems small and trivial. "How are we going to feed them, Philip?" I believe He fully intended to deal with the other needs, healing their sick, preaching the kingdom of heaven, speaking parables that brought clarity to the law that had for so long been unattainable and darkened by the bureaucracy of the religious elite. But for now, let's just meet the simple, most basic need they have: they need lunch.

Predictably, Philip responds in much the same way that I would have, and indeed, have responded many times. "Lord, two hundred denarii would not be enough money to give everyone of these people just a little bit of food. We can't afford to give everyone a taste, let alone serve them a full meal!"

O thou of little faith. Does the Maker of heaven and earth have need of your money? No. What I am looking for is the seed of your faith.

Then Andrew pipes up, a little more optimistic then his friend over there. "Well, there is a young boy here who has 5 loaves of bread and 2 small fish. . ." and as if recognizing the inanity of what he was saying while he was saying it, he adds, "but what is that among so many?"

O generation of unbelief! Does the Giver of Life have need of your resources? No! I knew what I would do when I walked up this mountain. I knew what I would do when I saw the crowds coming. I knew what I would do when I asked Philip where we could get the bread from. And I know that at the end of the day, there will be 12 baskets of fragments leftover. Do you believe, my friends? How long will you set your sights on temporary, physical fixes? What will you do when you run out of answers? Will you doubt My hand and My goodness? You have walked with Me long enough that you ought to know by now that if you'd only believe, you would see the glory of God.

In the early 1800s there was a man to whom God asked a similar question. "What will we do, George, with the orphans of England?" George Muller was not a man of position, influence or wealth. But he was a man of faith, and he figured that if God cared enough about the issue to ask the question, He cared enough to provide the answer. By the end of his life, George Muller cared for some 10,000 orphans, and built schools that enable 120,000 children to receive an education, most of whom would never have had the opportunity to set foot inside a schoolroom. He never solicited for money, no fundraiser banquets, no radio or TV beg-a-thons, no collection table outside of the local butcher stall, no 5K run in the countryside. Just faith. Faith that the God of the Bible was the same yesterday, today and forever. He believed and he saw the glory of God. Not only were thousands of children cared for in a home with a family that loved them, but they both heard and saw the love of Jesus, and when planted in their hearts, it sprung up and bore eternal fruit.

What about me, today? I know that I am at a point in my life where all I can see are the obstacles on the road, the fallen trees, the potholes and the 'No Trespassing' signs. I find myself evaluating situations and decision that must be made based on what seems most plausible, without realizing that with God all things are possible. He has no need of my resources, abilities or connections. He only asks for an empty vessel, willing to be filled up with Himself and poured out on others, only to be filled again. What can be considered ludicrous in the hands of the Almighty? Is there anything too difficult for God?

Tell the people to sit down, Meag. It's time to eat.



"The hand of the Lord came upon me and brought me out in the Spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley; and it was full of bones. Then He caused me to pass by them all around, and behold, there were very many in the open valley; and indeed they were very dry. And He said to me, 'Son of man, can these bones live?' So I answered, 'O Lord God, You know.'" Ezekial 37:1-3,

He's Always Been Faithful to Me

The story of Deuteronomy chapter 1 is frighteningly similar to my own walk with the Lord and, I'd imagine, the walk of many other believers as well. Slowly by slowly, I am learning that although my relationship with God is a personal one, there is nothing wholly unique about it. I will never walk down a road or experience something that someone has not first encountered before me.

So here is Israel, delivered from the bondage of Egypt after some 400 years, through miraculous signs and wonders. No one could deny that it was Almighty God who brought them out; the gods of the Egyptians were powerless to stop Him. Nor could the Israelites deny that it was God who brought them through the wilderness. They had the daily reminder of a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night to recall the hand of God on their camp, should they ever forget who had done all of these things. The only part that Israel had to play in this unfolding drama was to obey. The Lord didn't ask for their resources, creativity or skills; He simply wanted them their obedience to His command. Stay inside your houses and put the blood of the slain, unblemished lamb on the posts of your doors. Trust that the Angel of Death will pass over you. Go out and fight in battles in which you are out manned and out artillaried (is that a word?), and trust that I will do the fighting for you. Go with no food and trust that I will provide the bread that will sustain your bodies. Do as I say and trust Me. Thus far, He had not failed them. But as they stood on the property line of their inheritance, with their toes hanging over the edge of the Promised Land, they doubted. They allowed their hearts to become discouraged and their minds caught up in the giants that stood before them.

But Moses said to them:

"Do not be terrified, or afraid of them. The Lord your God, who goes before you, He will fight for you, according to all that He did for you in Egypt before your eyes, and int he wilderness where you saw how the Lord you God carried you, as a man carries his son, in all the way that you went until you came to this place. Yet for all that, you did not believe the Lord your God, who went in the way before you to search out a place for you to pitch your tents, to show you the way you should go, in the fire by night and the cloud by day."

Wait! The Lord went before them, fought for them, and even carried them, and they still found reason not to believe? It is easy to point the proverbial finger at them and demean them for their lack of belief, but how often have I allowed my own momentary circumstances and present problems overshadow what I know to be the faithfulness of God in my life. Unfortunately, more often than I care to admit. Let's be real, a year ago, I never would have imagined that God's plan for me would be to spend 6 months in Uganda, working with and serving alongside some of the most incredible, amazing people I have ever met. I would never have imagined the freedom the Lord would have produced in my own personal life, as He set me free from my own self-made prisons. I would have never believed the relationships that would be strengthened, and those that would be destroyed, as these things began to take place. And I would have never conceived the joy of living life in His presence and learning to abandon myself to His will. Yet here I am, and it was all God. I did nothing to force His hand in any way, other than chose to believe His promise was true and faithful. Sometimes I think He not only got me to this place (both metaphorically and literally) not only despite myself, but sometimes in spite of myself.

I bring so little to the table. All that God asks of me is my life. That sounds costly, but only until I realize that my life is not my own. The moment "I gave my life to the Lord" He took possession. He now owns it. He paid the bill on it, and it stands to reason that He owns the title and rights as well. How can I attempt to hold back from Him what is not mine to keep and what is His to have?

"Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? for you were bought at a price, therefore glorify God with your body and with your spirit, which are God's." 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

I think of Paul's statement in to his "son" Timothy, as he recalled what the Lord had brought him through and the confidence he had that God would continue to bring him through all present and future trouble. Think about it, if any one had reason to question God it was Paul. The man was beaten, stoned, shipwrecked, thrown into prison, rejected by both his brethren and the Gentiles, deserted by friends, bitten by snakes. . .but in the end, God caused him to stand fast. Paul understood the promise that Jesus had made, in this world we will have tribulations. Not one of the promises we prefer to meditate on, but it is a promise nonetheless. Expect trouble and trial, but know that the promise comes with an assurance also, be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world. When fearful situation come my way, and my own hearts wants to rebel and despair at them, may I remember that if I only keep my eyes on Jesus, I can walk on water too!

"But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me, so that the message might be fully preached through me, and that all the Gentiles might hear. Also I was delivered out of the mouth of the lion. And the Lord will deliver me from every evil work and preserve me for His heavenly kingdom. To Him be glory forever and ever. Amen!" 2 Timothy 4:17-18

The Least of These

And as much as you've done it to the least of these my brethren, you've done it unto Me.

        Matthew 25

Recently we were in youth service discussing the story of the good Samaritan. Grant brought up an interesting point. Here you had a priest and a Levite, two people who were studied and trained in the law. When they saw the man half-dead on the side of the road, what did they do? They defied the essence of the very law that they professed to revere. It wasn't so much their lack of compassion that is shocking as it is their blatant hypocrisy. The law could all be summed up in 2 statements, love the Lord you God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. But these two very religious men, when they saw their neighbor in need, kept right on walking.

I wonder, how often do we do the same thing, especially those of us in full-time ministry We can become so caught up in the religiosity of our service that we forget what pure and undefiled religion before the God the Father is: to visit the orphans and widows in their distress and to keep one's self unspotted from the world. We put ministry in a box, giving it a window in which it is allowed to be performed. But once "ministry time" is over, that's it! We're free. In doing so, we miss out on so many of the blessings that cannot exist in formal ministry time. When ministry becomes about activity instead of people, the purpose of ministry is lost.

Recently, I was grading some of the books we use for school outreach. This kid came over, his name is Godfrey. He has some kind of mental disability; people say he's deaf but I don't think that's quite his problem. He sat next to me and wanted to help. I rolled my eyes. Really, grading books is not my idea of a good time and I would much rather do it quickly and get it over with. Having this kid help me would only slow the process down. Lucky for me, I'm a total push-over and he has a great pout-y face. I gave him my red pen and page by page, we graded the books together. It took twice as long as it probably would have had I done it myself. But hearing his laugh and seeing his smile, and giving him the one-on-one attention that he needs, was worth the extra time.

There are so many times that I have been a priest or a Levite, unwilling to obey the spirit of the law, but this time God managed to get me where I needed to be. And I'm so thankful. My lesson: don't put ministry in a box. It's not necessarily about getting things done; it's about people. Give of your time and energy to benefit people as opposed to projects. Next time you the Lord puts a Godfrey in your path, don't roll your eyes. Take some time to spend with him. Jesus said that if you give one of these little ones a cup of cold water in His name, you will by no means lose your reward. That time isn't wasted; it's invested in eternity.

Decisions, Decisions

It can be very easy to be loyal to a person or a cause when everything is going well. We have an incredible capacity to look at things through rose colored lenses, in the romantic light of emotion or the adrenaline rush of the moment. But things very rarely continue in that way. And when the tint has rubbed off your lenses, or when the emotions are gone or when the adrenaline has died down, what then? Loyalty is tested during adversity and opposition. It is easy to stand by someone when the sun is shining and a cool breeze is blowing. If the audience is positive, support the show by all means. But what about when that person's cause necessitates them to stand out in the pouring rain? What about when thunder shakes the ground and lightening flashes across the sky? What about when the crowd throws stones instead of roses?

I can remember my emotions after an unfortunate event last November. Not to be all political or anything but hey, this is my blog! :) I love my country. I love what she stands for (or stood for), for the rich, godly heritage she possesses, for the bravery of men and women who have laid down their lives to protect the freedoms that she offered to hard working, honest people. Yes, I love my country. That said, I fear my government. And in recent years, long before President Obama, the American government has gotten out of hand. We have representatives who represent themselves instead of the people, an activist judiciary system, politicians who are bought out right and left. . .I could go on. I would never incite a rebellion, but I have always said that if a just rebellion began, I would not hesitate to take up arms and to fight in it. That's what I said. Then November came. I was crushed, physically, mentally, spiritually. At that point I truly believed that there was going to be a revolution. For the first time, I was faced with the possibility of having to eat my words. What if something did happen? How loyal to my principles and my word would I be then? Was I really willing to fight for my liberty and constitution? Was I ready to defend them in order to preserve them for future generations? Would I really rather die fighting to be free than live under the tyranny of another? So far, that hasn't been tested yet. But I'm pretty sure my answer is "yes."

I look forward into the future. One day, I may have this same question facing me in a relationship. I'm sure it will be easy to stand by my husband when life together is new and fresh and we're still "in love." But what about when it's been a few years and things aren't quite as new and fresh as they once were? What about when God is calling him down a road that I don't particularly want to go on? What about when his vision pushes me out of my comfort zone? What about when he's outright wrong and has a lousy attitude? How will my vows and commitment hold up when my pride is hurt or when I disagree? Will I be able to stand by the man that God has given me then? I pray that He gives me the strength and the humility in that moment to say emphatically, "yes."

But such things must be practiced. God gives us small portions. He will not entrust us with a kingdom if we cannot first rule our own house.

So here's the scenario: I have always told the Lord that I would go wherever He sends me. But what if He sends me somewhere wholly different than I was expecting? Would I be willing to truly leave my life in His hands, not only my heart but my physical being also? Will I continue to follow Him even if the risk is high? He has given me the strength to say "yes" in this moment. I believe that He will give me the strength for future moments and the wisdom for future decisions.

Jesus, today I confess to You all of my presuppositions about life, my plans and my misgivings. I lay them before the cross and repent of holding onto rights that never really belonged to me in the first place. You are sovereign, Lord. In light of who You are and all You've done in my life, I choose, in this moment to surrender to You. My only desire is to be used of You. Have Your will and Your way in my life, Lord. Do what You want in me and through me. Wherever You send me, God, I will go.

Shape me into a vessel of honor that is fit for Your service, pouring out only what has been poured in. Thank You for being willing to take broken, weak vessels like me and reshape and remake me into something useful. It truly is a work of transformation.


"But none of these things move me; nor do I count my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy, and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God." Acts 20:24

Time to Fade

It was a humid day in the Palestinian territory of the Roman occupation. The hot sand jumped into his sandals, burning the bottoms of his feet. As he neared the Jordan, his eyes swept over the mass of people. It seemed as though this was the only place in all Israel where everyone could gather, regardless of social or economic status. Business people, tax collectors, soldiers, the average Joe. . .are those Pharisees over there on the edge of the crowd? No, no I don't think so, but one has to admit, it is an impressively diverse assembly.

Above the low-toned murmuring of the crowd, a solitary voice rose, strong and gruff. Although the people continued to talk it sounded across the plain with unwavering pitch and strength.


"Bear fruits worthy of repentance and do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our Father,' for I say to you that God is able to raise up children of Abraham from these stones! And even now the ax is laid to the root of the trees. Therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."
Those who were listening stepped back in an awestruck hush. This man pulled no punches. He was not only unconcerned with pleasing and pacifying people, but he seemed to almost go out of his way to shock and offend, especially the pseudo-religious crowd. Who was he, the camel skinned, bug-eating desert fox of a lunatic? The only thing he would say about his identity was some cryptic quote from the prophet Isaiah, something about a voice crying out in the wilderness. Yes, that was easy enough to see, but who was he?

By the time the man had picked his way through the crowd and to the edge of the water, there was already a line of people waiting to be baptized. He stood quietly and patiently with the rest of them. The baptist handled each person with authority and surety, knowing that his message and mission had been ordained for him by God. As he reached out to take the stranger's hand, he glanced up into his face and immediately shrunk back. Fear would be the wrong word. Wonder, perhaps. Struck dumb for a few moments, he looked innocently into the man's face, confusion mingled with hope. It seemed as though the baptist must have been having a telepathic argument for after a few moment of silence he quietly said, "No. No, I need to be baptized by you and are you coming to me? I am not even worthy to lose the straps of your sandals, let along baptize you for the remission of sins?! You - "


"John, let it be so for now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness."
With trembling hands he received this simple, strange man into the waters of the Jordan. As he came up, the baptist heaved a heavy sigh, as though relieved to be finished with this task. But no sooner had the responsibility been lifted from his shoulders than his face turned towards heaven as a sound echoed across the landscape. Some said it was thunder, but John swore it was the voice of God bellowing from the clouds, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." The skies parted and something like a dove alighted on the man - the Spirit of the Living God.

Moments seemed to stand still and the scene became posed as a snapshot, as if waiting for artists of future centuries to paint it. This once roaring lion had become a gentle lamb, and the great prophet that crowds had thronged to see was now diminutive in the presence of this young Nazarene. The man turned and walked away, heading out towards the desert. When he was half-way through the crowd, words burst forth from my lips and I, I John the Baptist, cried out with all the strength in me, "Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!!!!"

There is was, my last hoo-rah. Even after I spoke I questioned what I'd just said. This man? Was this man really the long awaited Messiah? His calloused hands spoke of his position as a man who worked with his hands. His simple garments were typical of an ordinary peasant. He was not tall, or muscular, nor even particularly handsome. In short, there was nothing at all even remotely impressive about him. He was a simply man, not the warrior King we'd all been expecting.

But as I watched his lone figure fade into the distance, my mind raced back to the Messianic prophecies that spoke, not of a king who would conquer the Romans, but rather of a king who would conquer the hearts of men. He would not save us from the oppressive tyranny of Rome but from the oppressive tyranny of sin. His kingdom would not be of this world. He had come to set things right between a holy God and a rebellious people. But before he could win our hearts, he must first become like us, clothed in mortality, with all of our frailty and needs. Yes, this was He, the Messiah. He came with nothing but a thunder clap and dove to announce his arrival, but he had come.

I realized something else in that moment. My job was done. My purpose in life was completed. At the age of 30 I had accomplished my mission. The promise was about to be fulfilled and there was absolutely nothing I could do to move the process along. The Desire of Nations had come, and now, he must increase and I must decrease.