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Archive for the ‘God’s Provision’ Category

(In honor of Black History Month)

 

(Mary McLeod Bethune)

 

Mary turned over in her bed for the umpteenth time seeking a restful position, even though she knew discomfort was not the cause of her sleeplessness–excitement was. Tomorrow morning, October 4, 1904, she would stand in front of her first class of children in her own school: The Daytona Literary and Industrial School for Negro Girls.

Mary smiled, remembering the miracle of learning to read for herself when she was a girl of ten—miraculous because: 1) the provision of education for African-American children was rare in 1885, and 2) out of the seventeen children in her family, she was the one chosen to attend.

 

(Cabin where Mary was born, the fifteenth child out of seventeen)

 

The school was five miles from home, and she had to endure harassment and assault from white children on her daily treks. But Mary knew: this opportunity meant God had purpose for her life.

In 1886 a Quaker missionary financed the continuation of her education at Scotia Seminary in North Carolina.

Seven years later she entered Moody Bible Institute in Chicago as the only African-American among hundreds of white students. Instead of harassment and assault, however, Mary encountered acceptance, proving that “blacks and whites could live and work together with equality” (1).

While at Moody, Mary sensed God leading her to Africa as a missionary. But when it came time to apply, her denomination’s mission board denied her request because she was black.

The disappointment was deeply painful, but Mary soon turned her attention to those of African descent in America, and became a teacher—first in Augusta, Georgia and then in Sumter, South Carolina. She worked tirelessly, not only for her students but also for the surrounding black communities.

Thank you, Lord, for those nine years of teaching experience, Mary prayed. You prepared me well to found this new school.

Granted, there would only be five little girls greeting her in the morning, but it was a beginning. And Mary was confident God would make her school grow.

She chucked to herself. Of course, Lord, you left an awful lot of work for ME to do!

First she found a community in need of a school: Daytona Beach, Florida. Numerous African-American families were moving there, in order to be employed by the newly formed Florida East Coast Railroad.

 

(Workers on the East Coast Railway Extension, 1906)

 

Next Mary found a run-down cottage to rent for eleven dollars per month.  She convinced the owner to accept $1.50 as a down payment.

To supply her school with furniture and other necessities, Mary foraged at the city dump and behind hotels for anything useful. Old peach crates became student desks and chairs, an old barrel became her teacher’s desk.

She retrieved discarded linens, kitchen ware, and cracked dishes for the homemaking and skilled trades she would teach. Everything was scoured, mended and repurposed. Even charred wood had value as substitute pencils.

To cover expenses, Mary sold sweet potato pies and fried fish to wealthy tourists. She canvassed neighborhoods, spoke to church groups and clubs, and distributed leaflets.

Now, opening day was hours away.  And as she finally drifted off to sleep Mary wondered, What might the future hold?

If God had told her, even Mary’s strong faith would have been stretched.

That tiny handful of students in 1904 would grow to almost 250 by 1906, requiring more teachers, an advisory board, and a bigger facility. Among the influential men (black and white) on the board was James M. Gamble of the Proctor and Gamble Company.

 

(Mary and her students, ca. 1905)

 

In 1923 her school would merge with the Cookman Institute, a co-educational school for African-American students in Jacksonville, Florida. Mary was chosen as the first president. Later the Bethune-Cookman Institute became a college and then a university. (Today, nearly 4,000 students attend the school.)

 

(Faith Hall, built in 1907 to accommodate Mary’s growing school;

now part of Bethune-Cookman University)

 

In 1935 Mary helped organize the National Council of Negro Women (NCNW) “to connect African-American women across the country and establish a national voice for them” (2).   Mary served as the first president.

A White House Conference of the NCNW met in Washington, DC in 1938. Then president, Franklin D. Roosevelt, offered her the position of Director of the Division of Negro Affairs of the National Youth Administration.

Mary met one-on-one with President Roosevelt several times a year and became good friends with Eleanor.

 

(Eleanor in the middle; Mary to her right)

 

Her participation on various government committees actually spanned the terms of four presidents, from Calvin Coolidge to Harry S. Truman.

 

(Mary’s home in Washington, DC)

 

Mary often said:

 

 

The impossible events of Mary’s life offer ample proof.

 

(Mary McLeod Bethune, 1875-1955)

 

Notes:

(1) http://www.talbot.edu/ce20/educators/protestant/mary_bethune

(2) https://savingplaces.org/stories/mary-mcleod-bethune-bethune-cookman-university-hbcu-history#.WnzP3pM-e8U

 

Sources:

http://www.talbot.edu/ce20/educators/protestant/mary_bethune

https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/EJ969859.pdf

https://savingplaces.org/stories/mary-mcleod-bethune-bethune-cookman-university-hbcu-history#.WnzP3pM-e8U

http://www.wciujournal.org/journal/article/mary-mcleod-bethune-an-agent-of-change-and-leadership

 

Photo credits:  http://www.flickr.com; http://www.wikimedia.org (2); http://www.flickr.com; http://www.wikimedia.org (2); http://www.nationalparkservice.org; http://www.wikimedia.org, http://www.canva.com

 

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“You prepare a table before me, 

In the presence of my enemies.” 

–Psalm 23:5

 

You, oh God, are my Host at the table of life!

 

 

You have prepared for me a veritable buffet of experiences and opportunities. Some have been delicious and delightful, created (it seemed) solely for my enjoyment—events such as close encounters with birds or butterflies, an afternoon of laughter and reminiscing with old friends, or a spontaneous hug from a toddler.

Other experiences you’ve prepared because they were good for me: challenges, changes, and uncertainties.   You wanted to build stronger character within me and grow maturity in my spirit.

Sometimes I’ve wondered what you were serving! Forgive me for saying so, but occasionally you’ve created circumstances that seemed as distasteful as dill pickles, cream cheese, and corned beef.  (That combination sounded awful when I was first introduced to it.)  But just as I discovered how delicious Piggles* are, I’ve learned the superiority of your plan–to prosper me and not to harm me (Jeremiah 29:11).

 

 

Another observation:  some of the dishes being served aren’t just good for me, but for others at the table—especially the younger ones. Take Brussel sprouts, for example. If the children see me eating my portion, perhaps they’ll be inspired to eat theirs too. In like fashion, as a participant at the table of life, you allow me to join with you in fulfilling larger, far-reaching purposes–way beyond Brussel sprouts.

Even when enemies such as trial or pain try to swoop in and spoil the celebration, I can rejoice because you are with me, to strengthen and uphold. You’ve given me your Word, where I can feast on your attributes and promises. By your power, those enemies will be held at bay—outside the banquet room.

And on this Thanksgiving Day, when many a cook prays his/her feast will turn out perfectly, I praise you that everything you prepare for me is perfect (Deuteronomy 32:4).

 

 

Thank you Jehovah-Jireh, my Provider, for your faithfulness and goodness in my life.

May the happy thanks-giving of your people provide happy thanks-receiving for you.

_________________________________

*The name, Piggles, was created the night a bunch of us made pigs of ourselves on this pickle appetizer/snack.

 

(Revised and reblogged from November 26, 2015.)

 

Photo credits:  http://www.flickr.com; http://www.pixabay.com; http://www.maxpixel.freegreatpicture.com; http://www.heartlight.org.)

 

 

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Ever had a sleepless night due to a relentless whirl of what-ifs, a churning jumble of distress and anxiety, a racing heart?

Worry will do that. No wonder we’ve been told worry is bad for us.  In fact, according to Charles Mayo (co-founder of the Mayo Clinic), worry causes adverse affects on the circulatory system, heart, glands, and nervous system.*

But what about concern? Is that different from worry? Is it OK to be concerned?

The answer is yes. Scripture gives much evidence that even our perfect Heavenly Father exhibits concern. He demonstrates:

  • Compassion on all he has made (Psalm 145:9).
  • Care for each of us (1 Peter 5:7).
  • Mindful attention (Hebrews 2:6).
  • Watchful protection (Jeremiah 31:10).
  • Careful planning for us (Psalm 40:5).

 

 

As God exemplifies, concern prompts beneficial action; worry, on the other hand, accomplishes nothing but harm.

Worry creates a thick fog of fear; concern invites God into our experience with all his wisdom, power, and comforting presence. He is, after all, the only One who can dispel fog, whether it’s water vapor in nature or worry on our minds.

Just the reminder our loving Father is right in the midst of the mess with us will do much to sweep away worry.  And “there is heaven in the depth of that word—Father!” (Charles Spurgeon, emphasis added).

Indeed. If we dig into the heavenly depths of our Father’s love we’ll see:

  • The support of his powerful right hand (Psalm 65:8).
  • The protection of his everlasting arms (Deuteronomy 33:27).
  • The comfort of being carried close to his heart (Isaiah 40:10).

 

 

And that’s just for starters.

If we dig into what we know about him, we can affirm:

  • “Nothing happens in any particular unless God’s will is behind it; therefore [we] can rest in perfect confidence in him” (Oswald Chambers).
  • The God who made us will equip us for whatever lies ahead—even if it’s unpleasant (Habakkuk 3:19).
  • Difficulties most often set the scene for his glory to be displayed (Romans 11:36).

 

 

Sometimes, though, the fog of worry shrouds even the strongest mental images and the most affirming truths. We’re forced to admit: trustful concern is not easy.

For most of us, it is a learned discipline that grows over time. Slowly we’re able to embrace the truth that all will be well because all is in God’s perfect and capable hands. Slowly we develop the habit of affirming God’s character and power, to develop a near worry-less state of contentment.

And we learn the value of gratitude amidst turmoil—as illogical as that may sound. The very act of thanking God releases our minds from negative focus. When we turn our attention to him, problems fade in significance and the fog is dispersed. That’s why Paul recommended, “Pray with thanksgiving” (Philippians 4:6).

 

 

And that’s how we turn worthless worry into productive concern.

 

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

 

I thank you, Father, that NO situation is hopeless because you are the God of eternal hope. I can count on you because you are the God of universal sovereignty, complete sufficiency, and abundant goodness.

I thank you for your comforting presence, for your power at work (even though I can’t see it right now), and for your glorious promise that you always bring good from every situation. I praise you that, while we may sow in tears, there will come the day we reap with songs of joy. Hallelujah!

 

2 Thessalonians 2:16-17; Romans 11:36; 2 Corinthians 3:5; Psalm 145:7;

Matthew 28:20; John 5:17; Romans 8:28; Psalm 126:5

 

*www.todayinsci.com.

 

(Art & photo credits:  http://www.flicker.com; http://www.wallpaper4god.com; http://www.youtube.com; http://www.pinterest.com; http://www.flickr.com.)

 

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Tuesday evening I returned from an out-of-state visit with family. Steve picked me up at the airport.

“Where would you like to go for dinner?” he asked as we walked toward the luggage carousel.

“How about the Korean restaurant?”

Just thinking about their savory dishes made me even hungrier than I already was.

 

 

Minutes later my suitcase was stowed in the trunk.  We drove out of the parking garage and approached the exit tollbooth.

Steve rolled down his window. “Good evening!” he called to the female attendant.

“Hello,” the woman responded dully, without even a hint of smile.

“Hard day?” Steve asked.

She reached out to take the ticket from his hand.  “I’m just frustrated,” she responded.

A quick glance out the rear window assured me no other vehicles were in sight. I felt compelled to engage with the hurting woman; Korean stir fry could wait.

“Nobody’s coming,” I said to the woman. “Would you like to tell us about it?”

After a slight pause she began to share.

“I am a college graduate, but since I’ve become disabled, this is the only job I could find. It’s just three days a week, too, and people are so RUDE!”

 

 

We nodded our heads in agreement.

“What’s your name?” Steve asked.

“Ginny*,” she replied, and indicated her nameplate on the booth.

Oops. Steve and I had both missed it.

“Well, Ginny,” Steve continued, “we are people of faith and have seen God answer many prayers and provide many blessings. We’re going to be praying for you.”

Her first blessing was instantaneous. Steve handed Ginny a generous tip, and she smiled.

 

 

“You don’t need to do that.” She tried to give the money back.

“No, no. You keep it,” Steve persuaded her. “Maybe it’ll make up a little for the rudeness you’ve dealt with today.”

“Well, thank you SO much! And may God bless you, too!”

“Oh, he does!” I assured her.

Steve pulled away from the booth before other cars approached. And I offered my first prayer for Ginny.

Thank you, Father,  for the opportunity to provide encouragement. What a delight to see Ginny smile. I pray she experiences strengthened hope in you and saving faith in your Son, Jesus.

Yesterday morning, I happened upon Proverbs 13:2a and was reminded of our tollbooth encounter the night before:

 

 

“From the fruit of their lips people enjoy good things.”

 

Oh yes, Lord. We did enjoy good things last night with Ginny.

In our effort to lift her spirit, we too were uplifted. What a privilege to draw Ginny’s attention to you, relieve her stress a bit, and boost her morale. There’s also the joy of anticipation, knowing you will honor our prayers for her (1 John 5:14-15).

Then my imagination kicked in. I pictured us driving up to Ginny’s tollbooth sometime in the future. We’ll tell her how we’ve prayed for her.

Steve will ask, “How’s it going?”

And an effervescent Ginny will share that God has blessed her life in jaw-dropping ways.

In reality, however, it’s likely we’ll never see Ginny again. Part of God’s plan may be to graduate her from that booth into more fulfilling employment, long before we have opportunity for another encounter.

Oh, but wait. Perhaps we will get to hear Ginny’s story one day. And we won’t have to watch for cars approaching from the rear.

I’m picturing a picnic—Ginny, Steve, and me—seated by the crystal river in heaven (Revelation 22:1).  We’ll chatter away like old friends, celebrating God’s glorious blessings and miraculous ways.

 

 

Now that will be a very good thing to enjoy.

 

*Name changed.

*     *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

What good things have you enjoyed lately from the fruit of your lips? Please share your story in the comments below!

 

(Art & photo credits:  http://www.wikimedia.com (3); http://www.flickr.com; http://www.primobibleverses.com; http://www.pixabay.com.)

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I had no idea; maybe you didn’t either.

One of the reasons birds can fly has to do with the tiny barbs on each feather—hundreds, even thousands of them per feather, depending on the size. The barbs zipper-lock together, providing an airtight seal on the bird’s wings. Without that seal, birds would not be able to achieve lift (1).

 

 

The Almighty Engineer of the universe was mindful of every detail necessary so his avian creations could fly. And that’s just one small example out of millions in nature, proving:

 

God pays attention to detail.

 

But creation is not the only theater where his attentiveness is on display.

Our detail-oriented God has been active throughout recorded history. Out of countless illustrations, consider these three from the American Revolution:

 

Bunker Hill, Boston, Massachusetts, June 17, 1775.  “Don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes” was the pre-battle cry that day and quickly became famous.

 

  • The British brought the wrong-size cannonballs to the Battle of Bunker Hill. Though officially the Americans lost this conflict (they ran out of ammunition), the British casualties more than doubled those of the patriots (2).
  • Perfect weather in March, 1776 assisted the Americans in their move to free the citizens of Boston from British occupation. Frozen ground made it relatively easy to move 350 ox carts of heavy wooden obstacles (in one night!) so they could fortify their position above Boston at Dorchester Heights. In addition, ground fog in the valley hid the patriots from view and a strong wind in the heights helped carry away the sound of their movements (3).
  • On Christmas Eve of 1776, Hessian Colonel, Johann von Rall was playing cards in Trenton, New Jersey when he received a dispatch: Washington’s army was nearing the city. But Rall stuffed the message in his pocket, unread, and by evening’s end, forgot it was even there. Washington’s attack on the 26th was a complete surprise and a victory for the patriots (4).

 

(Washington inspecting the captured colors

after the Battle of Trenton,

by Edward Percy Moran, 1914.)

 

General Washington wrote to William Gordon in March, 1781: “We have…abundant reasons to thank Providence for its many favorable interpositions on our behalf. It has at times been my only dependence, for all other resources seemed to have failed us” (5).

Our own lives give similar proof of God’s attention to details, when we’ve received just what we needed at the precise time we needed it.

Years ago we needed a new refrigerator. The budget was tight, and such a large expense would normally have required a withdrawal from our paltry savings account.

But! We “happened” to receive an unexpected state income tax return—from a couple of years previous. It was sufficient to purchase the refrigerator with a few dollars to spare.

Yes, there are those who would see such events as coincidences. But when circumstances of protection, provision, and guidance occur again and again, the explanation of simple happenstance proves insufficient.

 

 

George Washington was right: we have abundant reasons to thank God for his many favorable interventions.

Think of all the scriptures that assure us of his wise administration of all things and his loving care of all creatures. I find great comfort in the knowledge that:

  • I am always sheltered under his wings (Psalm 61:4).
  • “[He] works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will” (Ephesians 1:11).
  • “From him and through him and to him are all things” (Romans 11:36).

 

 

Do I always rest peacefully in these truths? No. When troubles assault, it can take some time for my emotional state to catch up to my statements of faith.

However! Even though I may quake at the uncertainties in front of me, I can still choose to trust my attentive Father who will see me through—down to the last detail.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

I praise you, Jehovah-sabaoth, the Lord of hosts. All power and authority belong to you, all things are under your control—even the seemingly insignificant details of my life. How thankful I am to be one of your sheep, under your care, my great, attentive Shepherd.

I pray that you, Jehovah-sabaoth, bring all power and authority to bear upon Hurricane Irma, tearing toward Florida as I type.  Yet even in the face of uncertainty, your people are grateful.  You are in control and every person is in your attentive care, O Great Shepherd. Thank you for watching over them as only you can.

 

Notes:

  1. Anne Graham Lotz, Refresh My Heart, Word Publishing, 1998, p. 77.
  2. www.wnd.com, “Generals Marvel at God’s Intervention in American History,” Bill Federer.
  3. https://fsu.digital.fivc.org
  4. www.warfarehistorynetwork.com
  5. www.wnd.com, “Generals Marvel at God’s Intervention in American History”, Bill Federer.

 

(Art & photo credits:  www.wikipedia.com; http://www.flickr.com; http://www.wikipedia.com (2); http://www.wikimedia.com; http://www.dailyverses.net.)

 

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(A personal psalm)

 

 

“For the Lord God is a sun and shield;

The Lord gives grace and glory;

He does not withhold the good

From those who live with integrity.

–Psalm 84:11-12 HCSB

 

I praise you, O God, that you are the Sun of my life (Psalm 84:11a), sustaining me in body, mind, and spirit, lighting my way with infallible dependability.

Just as the magnetic force of the sun keeps the planets in orbit around it, you keep me within the orbit of your love and care.

Like the sun you are my ever-present, never-changing source of power, enabling me to grow into your radiant likeness, day by day.

Even when menacing clouds of despair or discouragement roll in, your splendorous Light breaks through with encouragement, hope, and strength.

 

 

I praise you, O Lord, for being a shield around me (v. 11a)—a living shield that is always present, always on guard, and always ready to act.

Through the fiercest storms of life, you are a refuge, a stronghold in times of trouble (Psalm 9:9).

You have protected me from what I thought I wanted, life choices that would have led me down treacherous paths.

And with the truth of your Word, you’ve deflected the poisoned arrows of hurtful thoughts and harmful lies.

 

 

I praise you, O Father, for the favor and honor you bestow upon me (84:11b).

Evidence abounds every day of your loving benevolence, as you not only meet my needs but graciously supply surprise blessings far beyond necessity.

Throughout my life I’ve seen evidence of your gracious provision: financial obligations met when funds ran low, impossibly long to-do lists shortened by cancellations and changes of plans, difficult circumstances resolved.

Even though I may walk through dark valleys of illness, trial, or tragedy, I know you will pour grace into my soul, enabling me to endure.

 

 

I praise you, O God, that you do not withhold even one good thing from those who live with integrity (v. 11c).

It’s so easy to become focused on material things, even though we know that a full closet, a garage of gadgets, and a large bank account offer fleeting satisfaction at best.

Instead, your priority, Father, is providing the good things of eternal value.  You never withhold your quieting peace or soul-drenching joy, the delight of your calming presence, your perpetual strength to persevere, or the exhilarating hope of eternal life.

These good things and more are always available to those who trust in you.

 

 

Heavenly Father, when trouble invades my life remind me that:

  • My vision of what’s good is severely limited (Romans 11:33-36).
  • Your ways are higher than mine (Isaiah 55:8-9).
  • You accomplish monumental purpose through the meanest of circumstance (Romans 8:28).
  • The perseverance to navigate a hard road will one day be lavishly rewarded (James 1:12).

 

 

I praise you, Almighty God, for each good thing you bring my way, each blessing mentioned here and countless more unmentioned.

Now may complete trust and enthusiastic obedience be my gifts to you.

 

(Art & photo credits:  www.youtube.com; http://www.flickr.com; http://www.youtube.com; http://www.dailyverses.net; http://www.pinterest.co.uk; http://www.pinterest.com.)

 

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stores-open-christmas-day

Steve picked up a card from the restaurant table and exclaimed, “Hey, look! TGIF is going to be open on Christmas!”

We had just discussed what our family of five would do for dinner that year since Christmas was on a Sunday. The fact that Steve was a pastor complicated matters a bit.

Yes, we could have planned a menu around a Crockpot main dish and a wee hours stint in the kitchen to assemble it. But after two Christmas Eve services the night before, that idea didn’t hold much appeal.

In addition, we knew that Christmas Sunday was already going to be plenty busy. Steve and I, the choir director and his wife, were providing the special music—a gift to the choir who was scheduled to sing the night before. Then, of course, Steve would preach again—twice.

So when he saw that card on the restaurant table, sometime in early December, we rejoiced that at least one holiday dilemma was solved.

But when we arrived at TGIF on Christmas Sunday afternoon, a CLOSED sign hung in the window. Sometime between early December and the 25th they had changed their minds. Now what?

It didn’t take too long for another idea to occur to me. “Let’s go to that delicatessen, TooJays, out at the shopping center. I’ll bet they’re open!”

exterior-hallandale

Off we drove, another few miles to the west. They were closed too.

Now we were in big trouble. Three hungry kids, ages nine to fourteen, sat in the back seat. And it looked like Christmas dinner would be tomato soup and grilled cheese. But when I mentioned that idea, no one complained. That’s how hungry they were. Plus, who could forget what was waiting under the tree?

img_1018

On the way home, while mindlessly watching the buildings go by the passenger window, my eye happened to fall on a brightly lit OPEN sign in the window of a strip-mall restaurant. We’d never noticed the eatery before, in the six months we’d lived in that community.

Steve made a quick decision to check it out, turned at the corner, and backtracked through the parking lot to Sun Hai Valley.

Soft Christmas music greeted us inside the door, as did the tantalizing aromas of fried rice, beef teriyaki and Kung Pao chicken. A hostess escorted us into the dining room where large floral fans adorned the walls, pink cloths decked the tables, and a long buffet stretched along the back. Not only did we dine in lovely surroundings, but we enjoyed a delectable, reasonably priced meal.

22cc23c7063e39cccbebfbb8dc852175

Finally, we headed home to the tree, overflowing with gifts from family and friends. Our three children were such troopers, waiting until mid-afternoon on Christmas to open their gifts. But we held to tradition and opened them one person, one present at a time, and taking turns. That way we could all take part in the joy of each gift.

img_1008

About four o’clock, Steve’s parents called from out-of-state, ready to ask about the presents they’d sent.

“Guess what?  We’re not finished opening them yet,” Steve told them. “I’ll call you again when we’re done!”

That Christmas was one of my favorites. God expressed his love and grace to us by supplying that surprise dinner, far above and beyond what we had planned. In reality, soup and sandwiches would have sufficed just fine, but he saw fit to provide much more.

God also granted the children angelic grace to accept circumstances outside our control. No one expressed impatience or frustration that I can recall.

Such precious Christmas memories are in themselves treasured gifts to enjoy our whole lives long—especially those memories that unmistakably highlight God’s grace, loving kindness, and generosity.

(Art & photo credits:  www.savingadvice.com; http://www.toojays.com; Nancy Ruegg; http://www.zomato.com; Nancy Ruegg.)

_________________________

Please share one of your favorite, God-enhanced Christmas memories below!

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