NEW SITE

Please go directly to www.SemperSarah.com for all Semper Sarah LLC company and blog interests! :)  There is a tab at the top of the website that says "blog."  You can keep up with my writing there.  Thank you!

Jumpstarting the New Year: Semper Sarah Shifts Focus

photo credit: Vithaya Phongsavan

Hello regular readers and/or newbies to the Semper Sarah blog. :)  I wanted to let you know that I will shift gears in 2012 and will jumpstart the new year in a slightly different direction.  www.MarineChick.com will now be the umbrella under which all of my writing, speaking, and coaching endeavors shall fall.  I have already uploaded almost all of my blog posts from Semper Sarah to the Marine Chick site, and any future blog entries will be posted there.  Thank you for your support during this journey and I hope you'll continue to follow along, comment, and provide feedback at my new site! :)  I am incredibly grateful for all the blessings I've received this year, and the wonderful people I've met who've helped me along the way.  And, of course, I must express my deepest gratitude to my regular cheerleaders - you know who you are - and I couldn't do it without you! 

I hope everyone has an awesome New Year! :) 

photo credit: Vithaya Phongsavan

Christmas Visitors

Who Is Visiting You This Christmas? And Will You Let Them In?

I wanted to write about this a week and a half ago, but as life goes, I got caught up in other things and didn’t sit down to write when I should have. 

Last week, I was in Virginia visiting my sister, Becci, and in DC working on new projects.  Thankfully, my visit included a Sunday, because I really enjoy Becci’s church when the main pastor gives the sermons.  (I’d been to a handful of other services with her which were given by the pastor’s father (who is also a pastor) who is ragingly conservative and a tad on the sexist side.)  Through December, the Community Church has emphasized Be Christmas: Sing, Give, Serve, Visit. 

So, in the spirit of “Being Christmas,” we should ask ourselves: Am I really generous – attitudinally and financially? Am I really serving the Lord – am I doing real tangible work for the Lord connected in some way to His house?  And do I recognize that God is a visiting God?   (Genesis 3:8-9 He goes looking for Adam and Eve in the Garden.  Exodus 3:16-17 He’s been watching over the Israelites in Egypt even when they didn’t know He was there.  Luke 1:67-68 God came and redeemed His people.) I think we all know we should be generous and have a servant spirit, whether we embody that all the time or not is another story, but when we stop and think about God as one who visits us, what does this tell us about Him?  The presence, the taking of time to come…it says something.

As good sermons often do, this one adeptly touched on something going on in my personal life.  There I sat, next to my sister, one of my best friends, one with whom I’ve been through some serious ups and downs, there in Virginia, visiting her.  I love visiting Becci.  It’s something I’ve done a lot ever since I had the means to.  When I was a freshman in high school, I saved up enough money to buy myself a plane ticket to fly to Pensacola, FL to visit her where she was living at the time; as soon as I turn 16, I began begging my parents to let me drive to NC to visit her there; and between deployments, training, and moves, I’ve managed make it to her place for nearly all of her three kids’ birthdays, lots of Christmases and weekends, and every Thanksgiving I was in the country until this year (when my parents made the trek to Ohio).  I don’t list these trips as a checklist of accomplishments, but simply to illustrate that I’ve known for a long time that expressing my love to Becci through visits has been important to me – and until last Sunday, I’d never heard anyone talk about God as a visiting God before, and so the whole concept really crystallized for me there in that moment.

As the pastor continued illustrating the love of God through scriptural examples of His visits, I turned to Becci, smiled, and gave her a big ole squeeze and told her I loved her.  She said something to me that I’ll keep in my heart with me forever, “Sarah, I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, I am so thankful Mom and Dad kept having kids.  I really don’t know what my life would be like or where I would be without you in it.”  (I’m the last of four children in our family.)  I probably didn’t quote her exactly right (apologies, Becci, if you’re reading ;) ), but that simple comment absolutely meant the world to me. 

That Sunday’s message touched me for other reasons, as well.  I’ve had a lot of conversations with friends about who God is, what His role is in our lives, how He is a living and active God, one who participates in our lives.  As is often the case, I try to discuss what someone else has already much more coherently and intelligently described, and I sat there last Sunday listening to the pastor beautifully describe concepts I felt in my heart but sometimes struggled to articulate.  I was thankful that he provided the scripture for the principles I sought to share.  

Luke 19:41-44 – God was trying to reach the people in order to help them, but they didn’t recognize Him/His message.  The funny thing is, this is a prayer I pray for myself a lot – that I may recognize when the Lord is speaking to me and when he is visiting me. And then, oh by the way, to actually welcome Him into my heart, listen to Him, then adjust as necessary.  The pastor prayed this very thing for the people there that morning and pointed out that often the very thing that’s not lining up the way we want it to is God visiting us.  Now, I don’t think that means everything that is hard (aka: what we don’t want) is God’s doing or message or whatever…I think as we cultivate discerning hearts, as we mature, that we see what it is when God is trying to reach us. 

An example it reminded me of was one brought about by this same man’s sermon about eight months before.  I’d been planning to move to Ohio to be with Pete and I was going to move into his apartment with him.  It just made sense, right?  But about two weeks before the move, after going to Church with BecciJ I was overcome with the feeling that I shouldn’t move in with Pete yet.  That was not what I wanted for a handful of reasons…but I knew I needed to have my own place, I knew in the long run it would be better for our relationship, I knew there were too many big things going on at once (leaving my job in DC, leaving all things familiar for many things unknown, etc) and knew myself well enough to know the stress of all that would be too much for me to concurrently share a small living space with another person. (I’m working on this! ;)  haha).  Plus, what would Pete say?  Would it hurt him? Would he be upset, mad, disappointed?  Well, Pete handled it beautifully.  He was disappointed, yes, but understood.  And I learned a valuable lesson that day – one that gets retaught many a time in our lives – that it was scary and difficult to listen to God but I was immensely grateful that I did.  I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders and I was no longer worried about moving to Ohio (to summarize ;) ).

The second prayer the Community Church’s pastor had for his members was that we may tangibly reflect God’s love by visiting others.  Be generous, be giving, you can serve, you can visit.  Does busyness crowd out your Christian life?  What good is Christianity if it’s only studied?!  At some point, you have to be a Christian! … and real Christians visit people.  (This made me think of one of my best friends, Theresa, whose father is a Catholic priest.  She is an incredibly loving daughter who worries about her father’s health and happiness and has often told me about how he travels during all hours of the day and night to visit people…in their homes, in the hospital, wherever they may be.  It’s beautiful because he gets it…Father Joe gets that simply being there for someone is sometimes the best thing you can possibly do for them whether they’re Catholic, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, a combo, or none of the above, visiting…being with…communing with people is crucial to our survival.) And I do always try to keep in mind the wonderful passage the pastor pointed out –  Matthew 25:31-46 – For what you did to the least of your brothers you did for me.  You just never know who you might be helping by that little, “insignificant” gesture you did, the “pay it forward” you performed, or the $10 you gave to a random person on the street.   Ya never know…

One last thought before I close – The pastor kept emphasizing that we need to realize that God can touch us, speak to us, visit us at any time; moreover, that we needed to have our hearts and minds open to that possibility or else we may miss it.  And it occurred to me that the same way that God can touch you at any time if you’re open to it, you can touch anyone with the spirit anywhere, as well, simply by being generous, kind, or happy…or by simply visiting them. J   

So, the question is (rather, the questions are):  Who in your life needs visiting?  Do you need visiting? Moreover, will we have the courage to let them in when we hear the knock at the door?  Will we have the courage to listen, and then to act, according to the visit or the message we receive?  

Merry Christmas everyone, and may you have a weekend full of wonderful visits J

Love, Sarah

Marriage in the Marine Corps…and Other Musing on Military Matches

I’m trying to capture a few different thoughts in one piece here….kind of a stream of consciousness, so my apologies if my less formal style is harder to follow.  Hopefully you still get what I’m sayin’, though J 

People think it’s easier for single soldiers to go to war.  In some ways, I believe it’s harder. 

Many married people can’t wait to get away – whether it’s because they crave the Corps so much or can’t stand their family is irrelevant, what mattered when I first started contemplating this years ago was that they were relieved to be anywhere other than “home” and/or were particularly happy living in a war zone.   I was single, yet I still yearned for home as deeply as anyone else; I intensely missed my family and every dear friend I had while I was deployed.  One of the worst parts of “going to war” was the simple fact that I was away; it wouldn’t have mattered if I was in a combat zone or vacationing in Eruope.  Being in Iraq meant being removed from everyone else’s lives and hovering in suspended animation while their worlds kept turning and mine was Groundhog Day. 

I empathized with the Marines who’d left spouses at home, though. I felt for them then, and I feel for them now when I think of being separated from someone you chose you marry.  Moreover, the Marines with children were the ones I really felt badly for and knew I couldn’t imagine the pain they felt from that kind of separation.  But for many of the young Marines, “spouses” were little more than that than by title alone and more of serious (sometimes not even that) girlfriends in reality.  Yes, technically, they were married, but Marines, male and female, entered into early marriages in order to provide a sense of the relationship being secure.  Also, and I think sometimes most importantly for some couples, marriage made the relationship valid in the eyes of the Marine Corps.  And when you have the DEPLOYMENT black cloud constantly looming above you, you will grasp onto anything that seems solid.  So I knew many of the nuptials were sure to leave one or both of the partners wanting before the deployment was over, and simple immaturity coupled with prolonged distance was usually the culprit.

It bothered me that some relationships were given more validity than others, and that those with newly minted marriage bands held themselves above those who hadn’t taken the plunge and certainly thought better of themselves than those who had already and “failed.”  Shortly after my divorce, I remember a fellow female Marine comrade at TBS looking at me with disdain, then speaking of her marriage as if it were a model to emulate, pity in her voice.  She had no idea what had caused the death of my dear relationship, yet she openly judged it…and me. (Now that my post about the assault I suffered in 2003 has been published, I do not have to obtusely reference that as the main event whose ensuing emotional chaos caused the eventual split of my betrothed and me).  Ironically, she, too, was divorced less than a few years later and, as far as I know, under no more dire circumstances than the stress and separation the Marine Corps graciously bestows upon all of its members.  But I could be wrong; one never always knows everyone else’s story and I do not intend to judge as I was judged. 

Like anything in the Marine Corps, even the holy sacrament of marriage can be made into a competition.  Who’d been married the longest, had the most babies, etc.  I even had a civilian friend with a former Air Force pilot father recently tell me his father told him to ask me if I’d ever been married because all Marines had been married and divorced.  The stereotype existed for a reason, and I couldn’t go around telling everyone my story and explaining that I’d taken marriage more seriously than most.  I’d evaluated the union logically and emotionally and it made sense.  Spiritually, we prepared by attending pre-marital counseling with our pastor.  Intellectually, we grilled each other on what we thought would breed success for us and why others failed.  Personality-wise, we were both active, outdoorsy, and loved our families.  As a sociologist, I recognized our common education, socio-economic class, and general background.  We thought we’d made it through the roughest patch anyone could imagine and came out mostly whole on the other side of it.  We were each other’s’ firsts for a lot of things.  If anyone could do it, we could.  But little did we know that my taking legal action in regards to aforementioned “rough patch” would cause havoc that would forever bombard all aspects of our lives. 

Back to others…I knew of more than a handful of cases where lieutenants met at TBS and were married by the time their MOS school was over in order to offer each other some sort of guarantee before they went off to war.  These less-than-a-year-old relationships were looked upon as more of a relationship than those that had been together for years simply because they were labeled differently.  It disgusted me to know the cycle would just keep repeating itself as I talked to Marine friends – male and female alike – who rushed to figure out if they should marry their current dating partner.  Furthermore, it made you appear more grown up, responsible, and as a new officer whereby you were often younger even than your junior enlisted Marines, this was yet another plus on the pro-con’s list for getting hitched. 

Few and far between, I know of some couples in the Marine Corps who have been together for years without getting married yet.  I admire them because the combo of good old fashioned institutional peer pressure coupled with what you believe to be sound, logical reasoning can lead many a couple into early matrimony.  Those who resist, though, often do so for all the right reasons.  I wish I’d had someone like that to talk to before Matt and I got married.   I literally thought, “Being married will help keep us together when we are apart.”  (Gimmea  break, I was 22 at the time!)  When instead (and what I now tell people) I should’ve taken a step back and thought, “If it’s going to work out, it’s going to work out regardless of if we’re married.  If we stay together through the PCS’s, deployments, and various other crap, then we’ll stay together whether or not there’s a license saying so.” 

Back to deployment…Many of the unmarried and married Marines in the Squadron solicited me for relationship advice during deployments.  I particularly related to one handsome Corporal.  He was more like a college buddy type man than most of the other Marines.  I knew his young union was doomed before we returned to the States.  What he told me about his young bride sounded familiar and his aspirations reminded me a lot of my Matt.  He genuinely loved her and wanted things to work, but felt compelled to marry quickly based on the circumstances.  His relationship was one of the few that I perceived to be genuine, and so I felt deeply sad for him knowing it would probably end in separation soon after his return.  Sadly, we think we’re doing our partner a service by legally joining them to us, but things sour, it makes the split that much harder. 

Back to more general thoughts…I wish the Marine Corps honored the inherent value of committed partnerships.  I wonder now with the repeal of don’t-ask-don’t-tell how the same sex couples will feel.  I wonder if they will flock to states that legalized same sex marriage to get that stamp of approval.  I wonder if either group – the committed unmarried couples or steadfast same sex partners – realize how much they have in common. I wonder if now that the gay and lesbian couples can come out, if that will inadvertently help the dual sex couples. 

Thoughts on marriage beyond the Corps…When you’re single and constantly deploying, how can you hope to have anything other than a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am type relationship?  After years of 24-7 training, then MOS school, then pre-deployment exercises, followed by the actual deployments, your entire life is structured on intensity.  Every relationship I ever had while I was in the Marine Corps started as an accidental whirlwind romance and typically progressed through the highest highs and lowest lows before going down in some semblance of a ball of flame.  Now that I’m out, how do I reconcile that?  How do I have solid healthy relationships and give them the time they deserve to blossom without getting frustrated that the guy hasn’t proposed to me – or at least seriously discussed the option with me – in under a year like everyone I dated for seven years?  It’s ridiculous that I’m even thinking like that! J  (and don’t worry, I’ve figured some of this out by now ;-p)

Thoughts on forcing people into one institution whilst already fully enveloped by another…For those of you for whom the shotgun-style wedding works, grows, and lasts – bless you.  I know your year by year ticking off of marriage achievement is something you wear like a badge of honor, and I am truly am happy for your “success.”  (I’m afraid this sounds sarcastic, but it’s not).  For those of you who really tried to make something doomed for failure work, I commend you.  For those of you abusing the system to get benefits and favor, shame on you.  For those of you too confused to know the difference, I wish there was more sound guidance available or an institution that didn’t prematurely push the bonds of yet another on you. 

Straight Back Chair: A Story Many Don't Know

This is one of my stories that most of you don't know yet...and one which details only the beginning of a battle I fought....a struggle that spanned nearly all the years of my Marine Corps career.  Sadly,1.  I'm by far not the only one to whom something like this has happened, and my heart goes out to other women and men with similar stories.  2. The battle I reference was very much a personal one at first, but became an institutional one very quickly, as well.  There is a lot more to this story I hope to maturely share over time. 

For now, please read with sensitivity and care.  Thank you,  Sarah

http://servicewomen.org/2011/12/straight-back-chair/

Adios Al Asad: Another “Goodbye” Letter From an Even Dearer Friend

*forgive me, i ran out of time this week to edit as much as I would've preferred, but still wanted to go ahead and post it.  I'm about to fly out to SoCal this afternoon, and going back there always reminds me at least a little bit of this time in my life because that's where I was living when I deployed.  Anyway, read on .. :)

Ken&I just outside the post office in Al Asad after mailing my footlockers of stuff home ahead of me

I read Jane Blair’s book, Hesitation Kills, this week.  The final pages captured some common emotional threads of war and sparked some of my own Iraq memories when she shared moments such as the one when her Sergeant Major said, “You never forget those you go to war with.  We’ll remember this always.  All of us will probably lose touch at some point, but we will never forget.  One day you’ll see one of them, and it will seem like not a day has gone by.  My buddies I went to Beirut with, I saw one at the Walmart and we didn’t care, we hugged each right there in front of everybody.   There’s no brotherhood or sisterhood like the bonds we form in combat.”

My best male friend in the Marine Corps, Ken, wrote me the letter below in December 2006 (during my second deployment).  At that point I’d been at Al Asad for a month.  He, too, was there for a stint.  Although the circumstances under which my move from TQ was executed were negative, being near a friend like him made it bearable.  That’s an understatement.  Ken was one of the people who kept me breathing during that period. 

I used to run to his unit’s position every day.  Yes, every day.  It was a physical mantra that became a mental salve.  If I could move my feet that far, I could keep my heart beating.  Sometimes we had time to talk, sometimes we only had time for him to peak out of the bunker and say hello before I’d continue on my pony-tail swishing way.  One afternoon, we sat atop one of the fortifications alone and watched the sun begin its setting.  People often talk of sunsets…how spectacular they are, inspiring, beautiful, any dozens of tired words can accurately be applied to the natural event. But in Iraq, they were different.  There was a clarity about them, a haunting, an exposure of your soul that those middle east equinoxes caused that I haven’t witnessed elsewhere.  Likely this captivation occurred because I was in a warzone and as all my emotions were heightened at the time, so it’s no real surprise that simple observations of the solar cycles were, too.  But no, I won’t cheapen it; the sunsets and sunrises were special.

The early January one I recall now was even more exceptional than the others because I finally had a departure date and the eminent event of going home was at last a guarantee.  Ken and I stood side by side.  He was adorned in boots and utes; I was clad in cammie green skivvies.  We didn’t need to look at each other to communicate.  “You know, habibi, one day we’ll be old and tell our kids about this. We were at war together.  Can you believe it?  We will remember this moment in a way no one else will understand. We’ll be like those old crusty Vietnam vets one day.  You’re going to be able to tell your grandkids you were at war.”

We stood together and the memory feels like we were holding hands even though I know we weren’t, because that’s how close we were with words unspoken and acts not done. It was possible to have that intimacy with a friend.  People couldn’t believe we weren’t sleeping together.  Marines always think about sex: how to get it, why they’re not, if they are getting it how to get more.  They assumed since sex would be their goal, it had to be ours, as well.  The fact that we didn’t “do it” made our attachment all the more special, though, and my bond with Ken has provided a framework for friendship ever since then.  And we stood and we wondered at the world…

Why do people wonder at war?  It’s an awful thing…yet somehow, it still retains a sense of nobility.  Maybe it’s because we’re not so unlike the Romans, effectively conquering foreign lands but never having our capital ever really threatened other than by our own civil unrest.  Our civilian family and friends can be proud of us and keep removed from the realities while we go away, change a little (or a lot), and come back home to assimilate.  They listen to some stories, if we share them; but life goes on.  Another quote from Jane’s book speaks to this sentimnt, “Post-traumatic stress disorder isn’t just flipping out and killing someone: it is a failure to adjust to normal society.  Every Marine had it.  Some admitted it.”  Whether we’d committed murder with our bare hands, a button, or a SITREP, we all know we did it in one way or another and at a bare minimum, it modifies you, or on the darker end of the spectrum, for some trigger pullers, it threatens to ruin you.

Anyway, back to the letter…Ken was in the beginning of the end of his several year-long relationship with a woman named Sarah.  I was a month out from the severing of my serious romantic tie.  Relationships were a common topic of discussion. I think that’s probably enough background to make sense of the letter. I’ve included it because I think everyone can relate to the heartbreak he describes and the friendship that blossomed between us.

On 28 December 2006, he wrote:  I’m going to call you Habibi, not because I am twisted and am trying to make you into my ex-Sarah but because it means “beloved” or “very close friend” and that’s what you are.

Habibi,

I am going to use some of what you sent me on SIPR in my response to Sarah-A (if you don’t mind)…if nothing more she might learn something from our breakup and change who she is.  She really is not malicious and she is one of the sweetest people you’d ever meet.  She’s not funny at all and she can’t do shit cause she is so out of shape, but I will miss her.  I guess I am writing this to help me realize that we are done, and to not even attempt to get back with her.  See, when we were together and we started having some issues or she started having issues, I told myself if we don’t have a plan by the time I got back from deployment I would have to leave.  I couldn’t continue to invest my heart in someone and get nothing in return.  I know I act all tough and I probably don’t look like I am pretty devastated from all of this but I have never had a woman break my heart before.  (I broke my wife’s heart so I feel like this is my penance).  I never even knew what a broken heart felt like to be honest with you.  I think about what I am going to do with the 999+ pictures of Sarah I have stored on my computer and I start crying.  I went to Beirut for her, France, packed up her apartment, moved her to California, took her to school, reviewed all her papers, took her on many vacations, etc etc etc…I could go on and on and you know how I feel, you feel the same hurt you just express it differently.  I want to cry but can’t and I want to see her again but never will.

You know AJ told me to look for you at Intel school.  He said you were pretty cool and that you were funny, could dance, could do pull-ups; all the stuff a boy loves you know! All the same qualities we’ve talked about for the last month.  (I also thought you were pretty hot).  Anyway, as the weeks passed I realized how wonderful a person you were after all our little chats and luncheons.  Then after we got to our units I loved reading all your deployed mass emails and I wanted to send you something special for Xmas so I did.  (I just noticed this is beginning to ramble).  I guess what I am trying to say is that I have seen you about every situation possible and you have come ahead every single time.  You are amazing, resilient, and have a glowing personality.  I am sorry for what happened to you and wish things would have worked between you and your chosen mate but it didn’t and it didn’t for a reason.  You will, I promise, find someone that will love and care for you the way you should be treated.  Things will work out, just like they will work out for me…trust me they really will.

I’m thankful you’re here.  I mean, I wish you could go home tomorrow but I am thankful I got to spend time with you and discover even more reasons why you are a good person. I love you, Sarah, and I want you to know that even though I am not a big faith kind of guy, I truly believe that things always happen for a reason and that God does have a plan for us.  I hope this somehow helps your heart heal (now I am crying) and you can move on and enjoy what life has to offer.  I really wish you could talk to my Sarah…Not because I want you to make her come back to me but so you can help her be more like you.  There are not many people out there like you Sarah, so please don’t let Patrick kill your spirit…or the little squirrel inside of you! J

Blue Like Jazz...But Bright By Love

Foofs&Foofs summer '05 hangin in SanDiego before my first deployment

I needed something a little uplifting today, so I combed through my deployment journals knowing I'd find a golden nugget somewhere ;)  I stumbled across these excerpts I noted in my 28 December 2006 entry after reading Donald Miller’s wonderful work, Blue Like Jazz. Tori sent me it the second time I was in Iraq and I was grateful for the soulful read.  It was one of my favorite books before I even finished it.  (PS his book Searching For God Knows What that I read last year is even better!) 

-Andrew is the one who taught me that what I believe is not what I say I believe; what I believe is what I do. (p110)

-How to go to church without being angry: Pray that God will show you a church filled with people who share your interests and values; Go to the church God shows you; and Don’t hold grudges against any other churches.  God loves those churches almost as much as he loves yours. (p.138)

-Marriage is so much more than I thought it’d be.  One of the ways God shows me He loves me is through Danielle and one of the ways God shows Danielle He loves he is through me.  and because she loves me and teaches me that I am lovable I can better interact with God.  I mean that to be in a relationship with God is is to be loved purely and furiously.  And a person who thinks himself unlovable cannot be in a relationship with God because he can’t accept who God is; a Being that is love.  We learn that we are lovable or unlovable from other people.  That is why God tells us so many times to love each other. (p.146/147)

-I think society puts too much pressure on romantic love, and that is why so many romances fail.  Romance can’t possibly carry all that we want it to.  Tony says the words “alone,” “lonely,” and “loneliness” are three of the most powerful words in the English language.  I agree with Tony.  Those words say that we are human; they are like the words “hunger” and “thirst.”  But they are not words about the body – they are words about the soul.  (p152)

-It was the affection of Christ – not the brutality of a town – that healed Zacchaeus.  He went on to speak on the great danger of a harsh word – the power of unlove to deteriorate a person’s heart and spirit – and how – as representatives of the grace and love of God – our communication should be seasoned with love and compassion.  (p.183)

-And so I have come to understand that strength – inner strength – comes from receiving love as much as it comes from giving it.  I think apart from the idea that I am a sinner and God forgives me – this is the greatest lesson I have ever learned.  When you get it – it changes you.  My friend, Julie, from Seattle told me that the main prayers she prays for her husband is that he will be able to receive love.  And this is the prayer I pray for all my friends because it is the key to happiness.  God’s love will never change us if we don’t accept it.  (p.232)

-If you haven’t done it in awhile pray and talk to Jesus.  Ask Him to become real to you.  Ask Him to forgive you of self-addiction; ask Him to put a song in your heart.  I can’t think of anything better that could happen to you and thanks for listening to us sing. (p240)