TRANSFERED

Never forget that God is in control of all the circumstances that surround a believer’s life. God is in control of your life, and involved in all the details.

Your suffering has not escaped His notice. Your situation has not somehow been buried in His inbox. He is intimately aware of everything going on in your world, and no detail is too small to escape His attention. The word “oops” is not in God’s vocabulary.
And as we can so clearly see from the book of Job, the devil can do nothing in the life of the believer without the express permission of God.
Okay, you say, but if He’s in control, why does He allow these hurtful things to happen to me and to people I love?

One reason is Suffering makes us strong. I know what you are thinking, I don't like that either.
The apostle James tells us: “When all kinds of trials and temptations crowd into your lives, my brothers, don’t treat them as intruders, but as friends. Realize that they come to test your faith and to produce in you the quality of endurance. . . . you will find you have become men of mature character, men of integrity, with no weak spots.” (James 1:2-4 phillips)

God allows hardship in our life so that our beliefs will become more real to us, and less theory. We can start living out our faith-life in the real world.
I’m reminded of all the people you see driving big SUVs. Most of these fancy rigs have 4x4 capabilities. Some guys take it a notch above that, buying those big gnarly tires, and mounting huge lights on top And what do they do with these powerful vehicles? They brag to their buddies, and say, “Yeah, just look at this thing. Look at what it can do. I could drive this baby up the side of a building.” Do you notice though that most of them never get the truck out in the dirt and mud so it can do what it was designed to do. They want it without spot or wrinkle. (that sounds kind of Biblical doesn't it) So they never want to actually use that vehicle for its intended purpose!!!

We can be that way with our beliefs. I can imagine God saying, “You know, you have a lot of really great beliefs. You talk about them all the time. I think it’s time you started putting some of them into practice. You talk about how you trust Me. You talk about how you believe I can provide for your every need. Let Me put you in a situation where you have no other resources and really have to trust Me for that provision.”
You see, God can allow these hardships and trials and shortfalls in our lives so that we will exercise our faith muscles, and step out on trust alone. We need to transfer our faith from the realm of theory to reality. Let the transfer begin. I will add another reason tomorrow as to why God will allow suffering.

Remember Sunday!! We begin the series, You want me to do WHAT?

You are the Head and not the Tail,

Pastor Kevin

LOOKING LIKE GOD

William A. Ward said, "We are most like beasts when we kill. We are most like men when we judge. We are most like God when we forgive." I found this incredible story of forgiveness and perspective and thought it would be a great blessing to our lives.

Hubert Humphrey, a Democrat, and Richard Nixon, a Republican, were long time political foes. In 1968, Nixon won a bitter presidential race against Humphrey. The two men hated each other. In January of 1978, Hubert Humphrey died, after a long battle with cancer. At his funeral, there was a most striking scene. Richard Nixon, disgraced by Watergate and forced to leave office, was seated next to Humphrey’s wife, Muriel. There is a story behind this scene.
Three days before Humphrey died, a friend came to visit him. He told his friend that he had just called Richard Nixon. Both surprised and alarmed, his friend asked why he had phoned him. This was Humphrey’s reply: "From this vantage point, with the sun setting in my life, all the speeches, the political conventions, the crowds, and the bitter fights are behind me. At a time like this, you are forced to deal with your irreducible lessons, forced to grapple with that which is really important. What I have concluded about life is that when all is said and done, we must forgive each other, redeem each other, and move on. I forgave President Nixon, asked him to forgive me, which he did. Then I asked him to sit with my wife at my funeral."

It is easier to go through life with an open heart, that a clinched fist. C. S. Lewis declared, "To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable, because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you."
The Apostle Paul wrote to the believers at Ephesus, "And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you," Ephesians 4:32. Jesus said in Matthew 5:43-45, that when we forgive we most resemble our Heavenly Father. Not praying for the sick, not giving, not ministering or all the things that are like the Lord, but forgiving. God puts a really high premium on forgiving. I guess because the price of forgiving us and giving us the ability to forgive was very costly.

It may not be in the Bible, but there is God’s own truth in Alexander Pope’s proverb, "To err is human, to forgive divine." Remember to show off our family resemblance by forgiving. God Bless You.

We start a brand new series this Sunday called, "YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT, GOD? I am really excited about what God will do this week.

(David Arnold)

Remember to seek the Lord this week. It will bring irresistible joy and make God bigger. (Psalm 70:4)


Pastor Kevin

YOU CALLED ME!!!

When Kelly and I first got married, we always dreaded the phone bill coming at the end of the month. We lived in Virgina and both of our families lived out of state and we loved talking to them. When the bill arrived, we didn't like it so much. A few years ago one of the carriers came up with unlimited long distance. What a great idea!! (wish I had thought of it years before) We were constantly trying to get our families to call us so they would have to pay the bill. You see the company always bills the person who places the call. You make the call, you take care of the bill.

Evidently, God feels the same way. In John 15:16, Jesus says, "You did not choose Me, but I chose you...". Jesus picked us out to place His great grace and favor on our lives. Since he placed the call then He assumes the responsibility for the payment. That just makes me smile while I sit here typing. Someone else has to pay besides me. When God takes responsibility, he fulfills all the letter of the agreement. He never runs out of resources, gets tired or decides to quit. HE IS RESPONSIBLE! Not out of obligation but because He really wants to be our caregiver.

Jesus goes on in this verse to say, "...and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should remain, that whatever you ask the Father in My name He may give you." God confirms His call by adding some pretty incredible benefits. He appoints us to be fruitful. An appointment can only be removed by the one who made it. God's commitment is fruitfulness that lasts. Early in the 15th chapter of John He says He will reposition us, prune us and even burn away dead parts to keeps us fruitful.

The other great part of this responsibility is the last part of verse 16. He gives us whatever we ask the Father in His name. That is AWESOME!! What else should we expect though from someone who is willing to pay a bill that's not His? He Called Us!!!!


See ya Sunday, Expect great things from our God,

Pastor Kevin

“THE SPECK, THE PLANK, AND THE HYPOCRITE”

In the nineteenth century, two of the greatest English preachers were Charles Spurgeon and Joseph Parker. In the early part of their ministries, they had a good relationship, even sometimes exchanging pulpits. They were examples of unity among Christians in England. Even though differing on some doctrinal points, they remained dear friends. After several years, Spurgeon discovered that Parker attended the theater, and accused him of being unspiritual. Parker found out that Spurgeon enjoyed cigars, and countered that Spurgeon was unspiritual. Their disagreement became so intense that they stopped speaking. Innocent people were forced to take sides. Instead of remaining stepping stones for love and brotherhood, they became stumbling blocks.

The statement, "Think of your own sins, and you will be more understanding of the sins of others," is good advice. In Matthew 7:1, Christ admonished, "Judge not, that you be not judged." He then warned of focusing on "the speck," (referring to a straw, a piece of chaff, or a very small particle) in someone else’s eye, while we maintain a "plank," (logs, or heavy beams on which the temple was built), in our own eye. According to Christ, the person with a log in his own eye, who attempts to deal with a tiny fault of another, is a hypocrite, someone who pretends to be which he is not. Our obligation is to put out of our lives those glaring faults that prevent us from properly appraising the character of another, before we seek to deal with the small faults of someone else.

John Wesley wrote to a friend, "The longer I live, the larger allowances I make for others. I exact more from myself, and less from others." The more we grow in grace, the more we will see how far short we fall from the perfection which is in Christ, and demonstrate a more charitable attitude towards one another.

A young parishioner noticed on his pastor’s desk a smooth, polished rock inscribed, "The First Stone." When he expressed surprise, his pastor explained that it was a constant reminder of John 8:7, "He who is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone."

"If you judge people, you have no time to love them" (Mother Teresa).

(By David Arnold)


Walk in love,

Pastor Kevin

Don't Quit!!!

A young college student, in his freshman year, was struggling with a course in French. He was so discouraged that he wrote home to his parents expressing his temptation to drop out of school. His dad sent him a poster of a young man, around nineteen years of age, in his football uniform. He was sitting dejectedly at the far end of the bench, covered with mud, his hair disheveled, and his face buried in his hands. The caption reads, "I Quit." Elihu Root said, "Men do not fail; they give up trying." Here are some thoughts about "Wanting To Quit," then some input on "How Not To Quit."

"First: Wanting To Quit."

1. Wanting to quit is a sign of success, because only successful people can quit.
2. The more you have to quit, the more you want to quit. Samuel Johnson declared, "Great works are performed not by strength, but by perseverance."
3. You can enjoy the luxury of wanting to quit if you know you’re not going to quit. Wanting to quit, and actually quitting are not the same.
4. Quitting is really changing. Sometimes we all need a change, but don’t quit on an unfinished task, calling it change.

Second: "How Not To Quit."

1. Burn the bridges behind you. Oliver Wendell Holmes said, "To reach the port of heaven we must sail, sometimes with the wind and sometimes against – but we must sail, not drift or lie at anchor."
2. Don’t expose yourself to what you do not want to be. Ten years from now you will be what you read, view, and listen to via the media, and the people you associate with. Albert Einstein warned, "Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds."
3. Don’t tell anyone you want to quit, when you want to quit (except for a close trusted friend, and, even then, be cautious).
4. Lock yourself in so you can’t quit. Have a fixed and determined spirit. Great people are just ordinary people who just don’t quit. Marylin vos Savant stated, "Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent."

Now, for the rest of the story. I began with the illustration about the poster showing a young football player, despondent and defeated, with the caption, "I Quit." However, down on the bottom of the poster is a little picture of a black hill outside of Jerusalem, with a very crude cross, and next to it these words, "I didn’t!"

Jesus did not give up on us. He is still pressing forward for the best in our lives. When you want to quit, remember that God is your faithful Father. His past faithfulness is a deposit of his future plans to intervene in your life.

(By David Arnold)

Kelly and I love you very much, DON'T QUIT!!!

Pastor Kevin

AN ANXIOUS MIND

Peter Marshal was a Scottish-American preacher. He became pastor of the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington, D. C. in 1937, and twice served as U. S. Senate Chaplain. On one occasion, he broke all precedent for prayer in the United States Senate by praying: "Help us to do our very best this day and be content with today’s troubles, so that we shall not borrow the troubles of tomorrow. Save us from the sin of worrying, lest stomach ulcers be the badge of our lack of faith. Amen."

In Luke 12:29, Christ admonished, "Do not have an anxious mind." The word for "anxious" means, "all up in the air about something," that suggests "hovering between hope and fear, restless." Further, He stated in Matthew 6:25, "Stop perpetually worrying." The word "worry" itself comes from an old German word which means "to choke." Then, through the years, the term came to be used to denote "mental strangulation." Maybe this is why John Wesley stated that he would just as soon swear as to worry.

Once when Martin Luther felt very despondent, he heard a bird singing its evening song. Then he saw it tuck its head under its wing and go to sleep. He remarked, "This little bird has had its supper and now is getting ready to go to sleep, quite content, never troubling itself as to what its food will be or where it will lodge on the morrow. Like David, it abides under the shadow of the Almighty. It sits on its little twig, content, and lets God care."

In 1 Peter 5:7, we are told to "Cast all your care upon Him, for He cares for you." The word "cast" means to throw something away or throw it onto something. The same word is used in Luke 19:35 for throwing garments on a colt in preparation for riding. It expresses a definite act of our will in committing to God our worries, giving them up to Him, and allowing Him to take responsibility. George Mueller reminds us, "The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith, and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety."

There is on record in an early Greek manuscript, the name of a man called Titedios Amerimnos. The first name is a proper name. The second name is made up of the word which means "to worry," with the Greek letter Alpha prefixed to it, which makes the word mean the opposite of what it formerly meant. It is thought that this man was a pagan Greek who perpetually worried, but who after being saved, stopped worrying. So he was called, "Titedios, The Man Who Never Worries." Remember, when we put our cares in God’s hands, He puts His peace in our hearts."

(By David Arnold)


I am creating a worry free zone in my life. God bless you. See you in service this weekend.

Pastor Kevin

Proof, that hope is never lost!!!!

I love an ending that just makes you feel good. The Bible is full of these kind of stories where God comes through so miraculously that it makes you smile. It makes me proud to be a Christian, well I am always proud to be associated with the Lord, even if sometimes I make Him want to hide. He never does, Thankfully!

My relationship with my heavenly Father is the only guaranteed, happy, ride off into the sunset, thing I have going. Phil 1:6- gives us this promise about God's ability to stay on task and complete the work, "being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. God will do the carrying!!!! WOW that sure is comforting and makes me smile today.

I wanted to share this incredible story of God's grace and mercy. Josh Hamilton is a baseball player for the Texas Rangers. He just set the All Star game on fire in the Home Run contest by hitting 28 in one round (a record). His story about God's power helps me remember that God can do anything. The story is a little long but worth the read.

God Bless You Today,

Pastor Kevin

By Josh Hamilton (as told to Tim Keown)ESPN The Magazine

To let you know how far I've come, let me tell you where I've been.
Not that long ago, there were nights I went to sleep in strange places praying I wouldn't wake up. After another night of bad decisions, I'd lie down with my heart speeding inside my chest like it was about to burst through the skin. My thinking was clouded, and my talent was one day closer to being totally wasted.
I prayed to be spared another day of guilt and depression and addiction. I couldn't continue living the life of a crack addict, and I couldn't stop, either. It was a horrible downward spiral that I had to pull out of, or die. I lay there -- in a hot and dirty trailer in the North Carolina countryside, in a stranger's house, in the cab of my pickup -- and prayed the Lord would take me away from the nightmare my life had become.
When I think of those terrible times, there's one memory that stands out. I was walking down the double-yellow of a two-lane country highway outside Raleigh when I woke up out of a trance.
I was so out of it I had lost consciousness, but my body had kept going, down the middle of the road, cars whizzing by on either side. I had run out of gas on my way to a drug dealer's house, and from there I left the truck and started walking. I had taken Klonopin, a prescription antianxiety drug, along with whatever else I was using at the time, and the combination had put me over the edge. It's the perfect example of what I was: a dead man walking.
And now, as I stand on the green grass of a major league outfield or walk to the batter's box with people cheering for me, I repeatedly ask myself one simple question: How did I get here from there?
I've been in the big leagues as a member of the Cincinnati Reds for half a season, but I still find myself taking off my cap between pitches and taking a good look around. The uniform, the ballparks, the fans -- it doesn't seem real. How am I here? It makes no sense to anybody, and I feel almost guilty when I have to tell people, over and over, that I can't answer that one simple question.
I go to sleep every night with a clear mind and a clear conscience. Every day, I walk into an immaculate clubhouse with 10 TVs and all the food I can eat, a far cry from the rat-infested hellholes of my user past. I walk to my locker and change into a perfectly clean and pressed uniform that someone else hung up for me. I grab a bat and a glove and walk onto a beautifully manicured field to play a game for a living.
How am I here? I can only shrug and say, "It's a God thing." It's the only possible explanation.
There's a reason my prayers weren't answered during those dark, messed-up nights I spent scared out of my mind. There's a reason I have this blessed and unexpected opportunity to play baseball and tell people my story.
My wife, Katie, told me this day would come. At my lowest point, about three years ago, when I was wasting away to skin and bones and listening to nobody, she told me I'd be back playing baseball someday. She had no reason to believe in me. During that time, I did nothing to build my body and everything to destroy it. I'd go five or six months without picking up a ball or swinging a bat. By then, I'd been in rehab five or six times -- on my way to eight -- and failed to get clean. I was a bad husband and a bad father, and I had no relationship with God. Baseball wasn't even on my mind.
And still Katie told me, "You're going to be back playing baseball, because there's a bigger plan for you." I couldn't even look her in the eye. I said something like, "Yeah, yeah, quit talking to me."
She looks pretty smart, doesn't she? I have a mission now. My mission is to be the ray of hope, the guy who stands out there on that beautiful field and owns up to his mistakes and lets people know it's never completely hopeless, no matter how bad it seems at the time. I have a platform and a message, and now I go to bed at night, sober and happy, praying I can be a good messenger.
Addiction is a humbling experience. Getting it under control is even more humbling. I got better for one reason: I surrendered. Instead of asking to be bailed out, instead of making deals with God by saying, "If you get me out of this mess, I'll stop doing what I'm doing," I asked for help. I wouldn't do that before. I'd been the Devil Rays' No. 1 pick in the 1999 draft, supposedly a five-tool prospect. I was a big, strong man, and I was supposed to be able to handle my problems myself. That didn't work out so well.
Every day I'm reminded that my story is bigger than me. It never fails. Every time I go to the ballpark, I talk to people who are either battling addictions themselves or trying to help someone else who is. Who talks to me? Just about everybody. I walked to the plate to lead off an inning in early May, minding my own business, when the catcher jogged out to the mound to talk to his pitcher. As I was digging in, the home plate umpire (I'm intentionally not naming him) took off his mask and walked around the plate to brush it off. He looked up at me and said, "Josh, I'm really pulling for you. I've fought some battles myself, and I just want you to know I'm rooting for you."
A father will tell me about his son while I'm signing autographs. A mother will wait outside the players' parking lot to tell me about her daughter. They know where I've been. They look to me because I'm proof that hope is never lost.
They remind me that this isn't really about baseball. It's amazing that God allowed me to keep my baseball talents after I sat out three years and played only 15 games last season in A-ball. On May 6, I hit two homers against the Rockies at home, and I felt like I did in high school. I felt like I could do anything on the field.
I've been called the biggest surprise in baseball this year, and I can't argue with that. If you think about it, how many people have gone from being a crack addict to succeeding at anything, especially something as demanding as major league baseball? If I hadn't been picked up by the Reds after the Rule 5 draft, which opened up a major league roster spot for me, I'd probably still be in A-ball. Instead, I'm hanging around .270 with 13 homers through 60 games with Cincinnati; not bad for a 26-year-old major league rookie. But the way I look at it, I couldn't fail. I've been given this platform to talk about the hell I've been through, so it's almost like I need to do well, like I don't have a choice.
This may sound crazy, but I wouldn't change a thing about my path to the big leagues. I wouldn't even change the 26 tattoos that cover so much of my body, even though they're the most obvious signs of my life temporarily leaving the tracks. You're probably thinking, Bad decisions and addiction almost cost him his life, and he wouldn't change anything? But if I hadn't gone through all the hard times, this whole story would be just about baseball. If I'd made the big leagues at 21 and made my first All-Star team at 23 and done all the things expected of me, I would be a big-time baseball player, and that's it.
Baseball is third in my life right now, behind my relationship with God and my family. Without the first two, baseball isn't even in the picture. Believe me, I know.
***** I'LL NEVER forget Opening Day in Cincinnati. When they called my name during introductions and a sellout crowd stood and cheered, I looked into the stands and saw Katie and our two kids -- Sierra, who's nearly 2, and my 6-year-old stepdaughter, Julia -- and my parents and Katie's parents. I had to swallow hard to keep from breaking down right there. They were all crying, but I had to at least try to keep it together.
I pinch-hit in the eighth inning of that game against the Cubs, and Lou Piniella decided to make a pitching change before I got to the plate. The crowd stood and cheered me for what seemed like forever. It was the best sound I've ever heard. When I got into the box, Cubs catcher Michael Barrett looked up at me from his crouch and said, "You deserve it, Josh. Take it all in, brother. I'm happy for you." I lined out to left, but the following week I got my first start and my first hit -- a home run.
Whether I hit two bombs or strike out three times, like I did in a game against the Pirates, I never forget that I'm living with addiction. It's just part of my life. Johnny Narron, my former manager's brother, is a big part of my recovery. He's the Reds' video coordinator, and he once coached me in fall baseball when I was 15. He looks after me on the road. When they pass out meal money before a trip -- always in cash -- they give mine to Johnny, and he parcels it out to me when I need it.
I see no shame in that; it's just one of the realities of my situation. I don't need to be walking around with $400 in my pocket.
I know I'm different, and my teammates have been very accepting. Being a rookie in the big leagues, there are certain rituals involved, and one of them is carrying beer onto the plane. My teammates gave me that job on one of the first road trips, and I didn't do it. I didn't think it would be a good idea for me to be seen carrying beer onto a plane. They respected my decision.
I get a lot of abuse in visiting cities, but it only bothers me when people are vulgar around kids. The rest I can handle. Some of it is even funny. In St. Louis, I was standing in rightfield when a fan yelled, "My name is Josh Hamilton, and I'm a drug addict!" I turned around and looked at him with my palms raised to the sky. "Tell me something I don't know, dude," I said. The whole section started laughing and cheering, and the heckler turned to them and said, "Did you hear that? He's my new favorite player." They cheered me from that point on.
I live by a simple philosophy: Nobody can insult me as much as I've insulted myself. I've learned that I have to keep doing the right things and not worry about what people think. Fortunately, I have a strong support group with Katie, my family and Johnny. If I ever get in a bad situation, I know I would have to get out of it and give Johnny a call. The key is not getting myself into those situations, but we've talked about having a plan for removing myself just in case. It's all part of understanding the reality of the addiction.
In spring training, when I hit over .400 and made the team, there was a lot of interest in my story.
I decided to be open about what happened to me; early on, I was doing long interviews before my first game in every city. It's been amazing how people have responded, and I think being honest helped. I can't avoid my past, so I don't try. It's not always easy, though. I got sick in late May and ended up on the disabled list after going to the hospital with a stomach problem, and I knew I'd have to answer questions about whether I was using again. I can't control what people think, but the years of drug abuse tore up my immune system pretty good. I get tested three times a week, and if it comes back positive, I know I'm done with baseball for life.
Aside from our struggles as a team, this season has been a dream for me. And that's fitting, because in a way I had to learn how to dream all over again. When I was using, I never dreamed. I'd sleep the dead, dreamless sleep of a stalled brain. When I stopped using, I found my dreams returned. They weren't always good dreams; most of the ones I remember were haunting and dark. They stayed with me long after I woke up.
Within my first week of sobriety in October 2005 -- after I showed up at my grandmother's house in Raleigh in the middle of the night, coming off a crack binge -- I had the most haunting dream. I was fighting the devil, an awful-looking thing. I had a stick or a bat or something, and every time I hit the devil, he'd fall and get back up. Over and over I hit him, until I was exhausted and he was still standing.
I woke up in a sweat, as if I'd been truly fighting, and the terror that gripped me makes that dream feel real to this day. I'd been alone for so long, alone with the fears and emotions I worked so hard to kill. I'm not embarrassed to admit that after I woke up that night, I walked down the hall to my grandmother's room and crawled under the covers with her. The devil stayed out of my dreams for seven months after that. I stayed clean and worked hard and tried to put my marriage and my life back together. I got word in June 2006 that I'd been reinstated by Major League Baseball, and a few weeks afterward, the devil reappeared.
It was the same dream, with an important difference. I would hit him and he would bounce back up, the ugliest and most hideous creature you could imagine. This devil seemed unbeatable; I couldn't knock him out. But just when I felt like giving up, I felt a presence by my side. I turned my head and saw Jesus, battling alongside me. We kept fighting, and I was filled with strength. The devil didn't stand a chance.
You can doubt me, but I swear to you I dreamed it. When I woke up, I felt at peace. I wasn't scared. To me, the lesson was obvious: Alone, I couldn't win this battle. With Jesus, I couldn't lose.
***** I GET cravings sometimes, and I see it as the devil trying to catch me in a weak moment. The best thing I can do is get the thought out of my mind as soon as I can, so it doesn't turn into an obsession. When it happens, I talk to him. I talk to the devil and say, "These are just thoughts, and I'm not going to act on them." When I talk like that, when I tell him he's not going to get the best of me, I find the thought goes away sooner.
Believe it or not, talking to the devil is no harder to explain than many other experiences I've had since that day last December when my life changed. I was working for my brother's tree service in Raleigh, sending limbs through a chipper, when I found out I'd been selected by the Cubs and traded to the Reds in the Rule 5 draft.
But there is one story that sticks with me, so much so that I think of it every day. I was driving out of the players' parking lot at Great American Ball Park after a game in May, with Katie and our two girls. There's always a group of fans standing at the curb, hoping to get autographs, and I stop to sign as many as I can.
And on this particular night, a little boy of about 9 or 10, wearing a Reds cap, handed me a pen and something to sign. Nothing unusual there, but as I was writing the boy said, "Josh, you're my savior."
This stopped me. I looked at him and said, "Well, thank you. Do you know who my savior is?"
He thought for a minute. I could see the gears turning. Finally, he smiled and blurted out, "Jesus Christ." He said it like he'd just come up with the answer to a test. "That's exactly right," I said.
You see, I may not know how I got here from there, but every day I get a better understanding of why