Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

Over the past two decades, our family has moved eight times. Interstate. Intrastate. East Coast to Pacific Northwest. Deep South to far North. Over the years of our travels, we have had the opportunity to live in several different homes. Newer homes. Older homes. Much older homes. We’ve rented more than once. We’ve also enjoyed the mixed blessing of being homeowners. It’s a goal most of us have. The hope of someday owning a home and living “the dream.” Whatever that dream may be. Unfortunately for those of us who have been blessed to achieve the goal, we have been met with the abrupt realization that the dream isn’t always what we think it is. Homeownership isn’t all back porch barbeques and front porch leisure. There’s a lot of work involved. Work you never think about when you simply pay the rent and rely on the landowner to take care of the upkeep. 

As a renter, you have the luxury of relaxing while someone else mows the lawn, weeds the planters, and does general maintenance. It’s their responsibility, not your concern. It is also their responsibility to handle your emergencies. Heating system glitch in the dead of winter? Call maintenance. Plumbing issues? Contact the office. Roof leaks in the middle of the night? Ring up the landlord. Don’t worry about the cost or whether it will get fixed. That isn’t your problem. The homeowner holds that responsibility. They have to call the insurance, hire professionals, find the answer, pay the bill. It’s quite simple, really. For the renter.  

Not so when you are the homeowner. When the tree falls on the roof in the middle of the night, the plumbing reverses into the shower rather than the drainfield, or the air conditioner blows hot instead of cool in triple-digit weather, the responsibility falls on you. When the yard needs mowed, the fence repaired, the siding has hail damage, that’s all you. When the termite inspection needs done, the siding needs power-washed, or the driveway needs repaved, guess who’s up? You. You have to mow the yard and fix the fence. You have to schedule the exterminator and hire a crew to clean your siding. You have to call the insurance company, wait for an adjuster, get a quote, find a repairman, and pay the deductible. You. You alone are responsible. And some homes are more susceptible to problems than others. Believe me, I know.

In the aftermath of the pandemic, when the housing market was at its most ridiculous, we purchased a 20-year-old property sight unseen. Yes. We knew it was risky. We knew it then. We know it now. It didn’t stop us. The previous owners had proudly designed and helped build the house. It looked wonderful on the outside. Beautiful, well-kept yard and gardens. Huge wrap-around porch. Fantastic fire pit. Coordinating paint job. It made a lovely picture nestled there in the valley surrounded by hay fields and barns. The sight hinted at peace and calm, a place of rest and security. Funny, isn’t it, how often looks are deceiving. 

Although the inside of the home had pretty wood floors and a lovely little sunroom, it was in desperate need of some upgrades. Obvious ones. We did them. Granite countertops in the tiny kitchen. Roller shades in the windows. New carpet in the bedrooms. Water-saving commodes. New heating and air conditioning system. We renovated and updated nearly every room in the house. And every time we did a renovation, we found an issue. The master washroom wall wasn’t plumb anymore. If it ever had been. The plumbing hadn’t been installed properly or with the proper number of vents. Some electrical work was questionable. And regular repairs had been done with obvious lack of care for accuracy or longevity. Previous poor repairs had to be righted before proper repairs could be done. Everything took twice as much work and double the time. It was exhausting. It seemed the only dependable thing about the house was the foundation. Never once did the house sink or the floorboards shift. No cracks appeared on the walls as evidence of a faulty foundation. No questions about its quality ever occurred to us. But even if the foundation was solid, the house standing on it didn’t always seem to be. 

The house hadn’t received the type of upkeep it should have had. Where the previous owners clearly took care of their outdoor lawn and gardens, berry patch, and hay field, they hadn’t been as fastidious indoors. Inside, window sills were loose and casings ill-fitted, allowing air to flow around them. Mold was discovered in the attic. Unsealed openings around pipes welcomed rodents. Unfinished floorboards put splinters in feet. And a safety railing was missing from the side of the stairs. We’d never have guessed it by looking at the outside. But it was there. Lurking on the inside. Ruining the safety of the house. Damaging it from the inside out. Making it more of a shambles than a home. Because somewhere along the way, the owners had become negligent concerning the upkeep of the house.

I get it. I do. It is easy to put off repairs that aren’t immediately threatening life or limb. The fun factor is low. The funding often high. They still have to be done. Internal upkeep of your home is as important as external manicuring of your property. And it’s not only true for the physical house you inhabit. It is also true of your spiritual house, the inner part of you that no one else can see. The part that is easy to let slide so long as you keep the outside looking good, use all the right words, attend church regularly, and raise your hands at the right part of every song. The inner part of you that is so easy to ignore in the busyness of life. The part that isn’t fun to evaluate. The part that costs to tend, but will cost far more if you don’t. The part on which your eternity rests.

The wise writer of Ecclesiastes penned words of warning about those who are lazy and neglect to care for their houses. He says those structures will come to disrepair, leak, and fall in. His meaning is echoed in the New Testament parable of Jesus as He tells of a property owner who was preparing to go on a journey. Calling his three servants to him, he entrusted each of them with a specific amount of money according to what he felt was within their ability to handle. Then he left on his trip. The servant who had received the most money went off and turned that money into twice its original amount. The second servant did the same. The third servant didn’t. He didn’t even try. Instead, he buried his singular allotment in the ground and waited for the man to return from his trip. (Ecclesiastes 10:18)

Eventually, the owner came back to reclaim his money. The first man confidently returned his allotment and the interest it had gained. The second man followed suit. Both were handsomely rewarded. Then the third man approached the owner. In his hand he carried a filthy, rotting sack with one tiny coin at the bottom. The same coin he’d been given so long ago. He was full of excuses. He was scared. He wasn’t sure what to do with it. He was distracted by other pressing matters. In the aftermath of the owner being gone and all the duties he had to do, he had failed to retrieve the coin and do something profitable with it.  

Rarely had the servant seen rage like that now crossing the owner’s face. Red, hot, menacing anger seethed from his eyes and spewed out his mouth. With everything the servant knew about him, with all his obvious exacting standards, the servant had done nothing with his money?! He’d left it to rot in the ground, to be found by anyone who happened along, to be lost, forgotten, gone forever? Not only had the servant not tended the money properly, making more with the little he had been given, he had been careless and negligent with it. His laziness spoke more than his words ever could. He wasn’t responsible enough to look after the owner’s possessions. If left to him alone, the entire estate would have fallen down around his ears. The same can be said for the lazy and negligent of soul. (Matthew 25:14-30)

You see, friend, it takes work to keep your spiritual house in order. No matter how firm the foundation of Jesus Christ, there can be no relationship, no growth, no strengthening without effort. Your soul will flounder and fail without constant, daily communication with God. So read your Bible. Alone. The actual Bible. Not a book about the Bible (although they have their place). Read the Word of God for yourself. His words. To you. Listen as He reveals His words and His will to you. That’s why the Bible was written. So you could know God. Not just about Him. Know Him. Personally. Intimately. Have a relationship with Him. Build your life, your beliefs, your convictions in Him and on His Word. Examine your heart, your soul by the Word of God. Allow it to pierce any part of you that is hardened from neglect and clean up the parts that are in disrepair from spiritual laziness. Pray. Talk to God. Regularly. Take time to listen. Sit in silence before God. Hear His voice. Know His nudging. Familiarize yourself with His Spirit working in and around you. Clean up your act. Take care of your house. Build your soul on a firm foundation, and do the upkeep to stay there. (Ephesians 6:11-12; Matthew 26:41; I Thessalonians 5:17; Psalm 119:105; II Corinthians 13:5)

Admittedly, that is the difficult part. The upkeep. The daily, weekly, and monthly consistency of abiding in Christ. When everything is the same day after day. When nothing miraculous breaks up the monotony. When something worldly glistens, catches your eye, and tempts you to turn aside, to leave the responsibilities of caring for your spiritual house for just a little while. When you are tired and worn and weary. When your energy is low and your anxiety is high. Forcing yourself to be on guard and keep your soul solid is sometimes the hardest thing you will do. Especially with all of the distractions of our day. Everywhere we turn, there is something begging for our attention. Our phones are constantly pinging. Our schedules are always demanding. Our souls are frequently smothered as we attempt to keep up with the earthly at the expense of the eternal. We become negligent saints. Lazy Christians. And if we aren’t careful, our spiritual houses will collapse without great care to keep them solid. (Galatians 6:9; John 15:4-5)

In a ringing warning, the writer of Proverbs says those who slack off are negligent, who allow laziness to crowd their souls will suffer the consequences. Their house and grounds will come to ruin. Spiritually, they will be overcome by evil. Those who are idle, lazy, negligent about the keeping of their spiritual house fall prey to sin. Easily. They are drawn aside by the lusts of their own hearts that become prominent when the preeminence of Jesus Christ is smothered. So take care of your house. Do the upkeep. Consistently. Meticulously. Keep your soul from evil. Words. Thoughts. Actions. Guard your heart with vigilance and care. Don’t let laziness or negligence spoil your soul and steal your reward. Take the time. Make the effort. Put in the work to make your soul solid, your eternity secure. (Proverbs 4:23, 24:30-34; Romans 12:9-21; Thessalonians 3:10-12; Luke 6:45; Colossians 3:2; I Peter 5:8; James 1:14)

Dear Faithful Readers and People of Christ. Due to a family emergency, there will not be any new posts until July 21st. We hope that you continue to find peace and direction through Christ and that he shines on your family. Faithfully Yours, Naomi

It is completely unthinkable.  Who does that, anyway?  Who makes someone wait until their twilight years to have a long-desired child then asks them to sacrifice him on an altar like some animal?  It boggles our minds.  Thousands of years later, just reading the account of God asking Abraham to sacrifice Isaac on a rock altar up the side of a mountain when he had plenty of sheep and goats available puts our backs up on Abraham’s behalf.  Even though we know the end of the story, we feel indignant.  We think it unfair.  

How must Abraham have felt?  For years he and Sarah had prayed for a child. They’d waited.  Nothing happened. Slowly but surely, they gave up hope. They were old. They were tired. Even the voice of God announcing the soon arrival of a child, failed to sway their skepticism. Sarah laughed. Abraham probably wanted to laugh too. Who has children at 90 and 100 years old?  But it happened. The long desired, long-awaited, promised child with the wife he loved finally came. Isaac was born. The descendant to give them all those promised descendants had come. Things were finally coming together. (Genesis 18:1-15, Genesis 21:1-7)

Then God threw a curveball.  He sent Abraham into Moriah, up on a mountain with one express purpose–sacrifice Isaac.  What? God spent all this time making miracles happen to give Abraham and Sarah a son–to sacrifice?  Really?  Again, even knowing the outcome, we sit in astounded incredulity.  Abraham must have been astounded too, yet there is no Biblical record of any words spoken to God about the command.  There is only a record of obedience.  Abraham is silent.  

Stoically and silently, Abraham readies for the journey. A donkey. Two servants. Wood.  Isaac. They travel for three days. Three days over which no words are significant enough to be recorded. Abraham is verbally silent. But he’s human. It is safe to say his internal conversation was spectacular. Why was this happening? Had he somehow disobeyed God? Had he misunderstood something? What about that nation God was going to establish through Isaac?  How would that happen if Isaac was dead? What about those promises, those covenants?  Would God keep them? And, most importantly, was obedience really better when it was calling him to sacrifice his beloved, long awaited, only son ? 

Clearly, the only question we know Abraham answered was that obedience to God is always better. No matter the sacrifice. No matter the pain. No matter that you can’t see the next step. Remaining faithful to God is most important. That knowledge is why he’s making this trek when he wants to stay home and pretend God never invited him up this fateful mountain. Finally, Abraham leaves the servants and donkey to wait, takes Isaac, and heads up the mountain even further.  

If Abraham was waiting for God to stop him, he was disappointed. It is apparently God’s turn to be silent.  When he came to the place of sacrifice, Abraham built the altar.  I wonder how long it took him to build it.  My humanity would have made me take my time. Maybe Abraham was the same.  It couldn’t take forever, though.  Once the altar is built, he stacks the wood, ties up his son, and places him on top of the wood.  How heart-wrenching would that be?  Imagine the questions Isaac was asking.  He’d already deduced there was no sacrifice.  As the ropes were tied around his body, was he crying out, “Why are you doing this, Daddy? Please don’t do this! Don’t you love me?” 

As the questions from his son reverberate across the mountain, echoing the questions Abraham has been asking God for the last three days, he hardens his breaking heart, allows himself one last long look at Isaac atop the altar, takes a deep breath, raises his knife high in the air…and then it comes. Thank God, it comes! The reason he’s been keeping his mouth shut and his ears open.  The angel of the Lord says, “Abraham! Don’t kill your son! You have proven your faithfulness!” (Genesis 22:1-13)

As I sigh in relief at the outcome of the story, I find myself asking, what if Abraham hadn’t been listening for God to speak? What if Abraham had been weeping, wailing, cursing the circumstances, throwing a tantrum over the unfairness of the situation and making too much noise to hear God’s voice? What if Abraham had been too bogged down in anger, grief, and justifiable pain that he hadn’t been able to hear God speak? We should know the answer to these questions. We do it all the time.  

The things God asks of us are not always pleasing. Some of them are just plain hard.  Sometimes God asks us to leave everything we know and start out on a journey we can’t explain. It is painful. It is difficult. If we allow ourselves to get caught up in the angry self-pity we think we deserve, we’ll be so busy lashing out that we miss it when He speaks. That could be disastrous. If Abraham had been too wrapped in self-pity to hear God speak, he would have killed his son as a sacrifice. The stakes are just as great for us. Possibly greater. We could be sacrificing our souls. 

Faithful obedience to God is more than grudgingly doing what God asks. It is not whining compliance. It is consistent plodding. Staying the course. Quietly seeing it through until the voice of God says otherwise. It probably won’t be easy. It will absolutely be worth it. Obedience to God always is. Ask Abraham. He’s done it before. There was a previous trek across miles of foreign country to get to a Promised Land he’d heard of only from God’s lips. No matter what else he might have thought, wanted, or hoped, Abraham packed his camels, left everything familiar and familial behind and started walking. Quietly. (Genesis 12:1-9)

In a world that encourages us to verbally express ourselves with no regard for others or God, it behooves us to take a page from Genesis–Abraham’s story–and be quiet. Obey God, even when you don’t understand, when it seems diametrically opposed to what you thought, or hoped, He was doing.  And while obeying, be quiet. Listen for Him to speak, because He will speak.  Words of love. (Jeremiah 31:3) Words of courage. (John 16:33) Words of direction. (Psalm 32:8) Words of rest and peace. (Psalm 37:1-7)   

The Psalmist says, “Be still and know that I am God.”  (Psalm 46:10)  Calm down.  Stop ranting and raving. Stop whining and wailing. Take a deep breath. Be quiet, even if you don’t feel like it. Obey. And while you are obeying, listen. God may be silent, but He is still there. (Deut. 31:6) God has not gone on vacation. He has not left you alone while He walks the beaches of Tahiti. (Psalm 37:25,28) God is right beside you as you struggle to do His will, even when you don’t understand it. (I Chronicles 28:20) And He’s fixing to speak. There is nothing you are doing, wanting, or dreaming that is more important than hearing God speak. And what will you sacrifice if you fail to hear Him when He does?   

In my home I have a little sign that reads, “Eat, Sleep, Play, Repeat”. I bought it a couple of years ago thinking it was a cute turn of phrase. I didn’t know it would become a lifestyle. Sequestered in our homes, not allowed to socialize,  no work, no school, no coffee meetups, I find myself living those exact words. Every day we wake to more of the same. More eating. More keeping the kids from maiming one another. More wondering what will happen next. More hovering over the news. More pointless television. More sleeping.     

It all feels mindless. The days have run together. I have to check the calendar to be certain of the date.  I’m struggling to keep the kids busy. Struggling to keep myself busy. Fighting the current of social angst and terror the media wants us to ride. I don’t like it, this helpless uselessness. I dislike days that lack purpose. I abhor the growing feeling that nothing matters, there’s nothing to do, and the bleak look at a foreseeable future that remains the same.

 A couple of days ago, in the middle of my self-indulgent pity party, God reiterated to me the question Martin Luther once posed, “What will you do in the mundane days of faithfulness?” Now Martin Luther isn’t a guy that conjures up images of the mundane.  Writer of the 95 Thesis giving birth to the Reformation. Bible translator. Church builder. Dean of Theology. Writer. Preacher. Inspiration. Hero. Nothing mundane there.  But his well-worded question incited some questions of my own. Questions I needed to ask.  Questions I needed to answer. 

 What am I doing with all this time I have to be quiet and still?  What am I doing with the extra time I have with my children?  What are we doing to minister to others when we can’t leave our home?  And what should we be doing?  

Just like that, I’m back to the little sign, third word…but what if it said “pray” not “play”? That is the answer! The most important thing I can do is pray more. See, prayer changes me. It changes my outlook on the situation. It encourages trust in God who already has this situation in hand. Prayer centers my soul and gives me extra strength to cope with tempers flaring because we’ve been in the same space with the same people for far too long. Prayer draws me to a place of clarity and peace. It allows me to talk to God, to bring my concerns, my complaints, my confessions to Him. It also allows God to talk to me, to point out the places I’m slipping, some changes I’ve been avoiding, some encouragement I wouldn’t have heard if I hadn’t used the quiet stillness to listen.   

It also gives me time to read.  Not that I don’t ordinarily read my Bible every day.  I do.  But having no real schedule to keep allows me time to read more casually, absorb the words, hear the promises.  My children are also being more intentional about reading their Bibles and devotional books.  Often we talk about what we read that day, a question they have, or some clarification of the details surrounding the Minor Prophets. We don’t always have this. School starts so early and homework ends so late. Our normal schedule often doesn’t allow for leisurely Bible chats. So while we plod along through our mundane days, we are blessed with moments together with God that we otherwise might not have gotten.  

The ministry part of this leaves me frustrated.  There is literally nothing I can do but pray.  So I do.  I pray for our leaders to be wise, but not ridiculous.  I pray for our people to be strong, but not crazy.  I pray for those I know who are high risk to stay safe.  I pray for an end to this illness.  Mostly, I pray God’s will be done.  It’s the hardest prayer I have ever prayed.  

Daily I long for something more exciting. I don’t want to be on lockdown for the next 6 months. I want to do something. Feed people. Offer hope. Give help. Ease loneliness. Defeat despair. I want to do something for God.  I want to brighten the world, not just my house.  Surely there is something I can do besides what I’m doing. Sitting at home praying feels so small.  So insignificant.  So…mundane.  

 In times like these, we need the faithfulness.  The constant refusal to give up, to quit, to turn aside.  The consistent pursuit of the goal.  Down the same path in the same plodding manner, even when the scenery doesn’t change, when it seems no one even knows you exist, your work is pointless, your faithfulness meaningless. In the middle of your mundane, you are tempted to turn aside, let up a little, take a day off from the faithful grind.

The writer of Hebrews penned words we need to hear now more than ever before, “So we must listen very carefully to the truth we have heard, or we may drift away from it.” (Hebrews 2:1-2, NLT)  It would be so easy to be lulled to sleep performing the mundane tasks of our current situation.  Easy to stay up late, sleep in, lose our drive.  The inability to physically attend church makes it easy to let up spiritually.  Less Scripture.  Less Prayer.  Less Jesus.  Easy drifting.  Drifting into complacency.  Drifting into sin.  We really can’t afford that.  The price is too steep.  (Hebrews 4:1,11)  Don’t drift. Keep Praying.  (I Thessalonians 5:17)  Keep the faith.  (Mark 11:22)

Because God needs you. Right now all you are doing seems boring, mundane, maybe even pointless.  But God needs you. Not because He is incapable of doing His work on His own, but because He chooses to delegate some of it. He tells us to be light and salt in a dark and unsavory world. (Matthew 5:13-16)  He calls us to go out into the world preaching and teaching the Gospel.  (Mark 16:15-16) He commissions us to be laborers together with Him. (I Corinthians 3:9)  Even if we can’t truly socialize, our attitudes with the people in the grocery store, at the gas station, or the food delivery person can make an impact. We might not be able to go out preaching and teaching, but we can teach our children and study with our spouses so we don’t drift away.  

Laboring together with God doesn’t always look like we think it will. God doesn’t think like we do. (Isaiah 55:8-9) I never dreamed we’d be trying to minister for Jesus from our living rooms. It doesn’t matter. Wherever you are, you are right where God placed you. (Even if it’s your living room.)  Whatever your tasks, they are God-given. (Even four rounds of dishes!) Whoever you speak to and interact with throughout your day, they are your mission field. (Even if it’s only your children.) Nothing you do is mundane if you do it all to the glory of God (Ecclesiastes 9:10).  No word you speak is mundane if it is spoken in love.  (Ephesians 4:15, Romans 12:10) Everything you do is vitally important to God. 

So “what will you do in the mundane days of faithfulness?” Will the “ sameness” of your days lull you into drifting? Or will you pray, read, and strengthen your soul?  Will you be full of Jesus or full of the fear the media is peddling? The mundane is your mission. You were made for this moment. Are you being faithful?

Have you noticed how obsessed our society is with dietary restrictions?  The grocery shelves are lined with low fat, low carb, gluten-free, caffeine-free, sugarless, nut-free, soy-free products. Nearly every set of television commercials involves some new diet plan. While some folks choose a lifestyle including these products as healthier versions meant to achieve or maintain health goals or follow the latest diet fad, some of us choose these products because our lives literally depend on them.  I’m that girl. The one whose food allergies and health concerns require extreme vigilance. For me, it’s not a diet fad, it’s my life. I’m just trying to stay alive.     

This is not to say it isn’t frustrating. I wish I could walk into a chocolate shop and choose the most luscious chocolate in the case with no concern for contaminants.  I want to visit a new coffee shop without asking the barista 4 times if they are sure my beverage is decaf. I’d love to visit a new restaurant without interrogating the staff before consuming the food. Truthfully, I’d be ecstatic if I could just find a package of English muffins I could safely consume!   

Some days the frustration gets the best of me. During one such event, as I was bemoaning my plight and wishing I could just be “normal”, a still, quiet voice echoed in my mind, saying, “You can have all of Jesus you want.”  I stopped mid-whine, instantly knowing it is true. No matter what I can’t have from the grocery store or a favorite restaurant, I can have as much of Jesus as I want. More than that, Jesus is what my soul craves most. He is my gluttonous pleasure. 

I want to know Him deeply, personally, intimately.  I want to know the amazing, magnanimous God of the Old Testament. The One who miraculously rescued His undeserving people over and over again.  I want a deep, abiding friendship with the Jesus of the Gospels. The One who wasn’t afraid to eat with sinners like me. I want to experience the presence and power of the Holy Spirit of Acts.  I want it all. And I want it full caff. No Jesus light. No diet God. No sample Holy Spirit. I want it all. All day, every day.

And daily is where it’s at.  Our lives are crammed full of quick service, low fat, low carb, nut-free, gluten-free, sugarless, to-go options we grab on our way to the next meeting, next game, next appointment.  Our gluttonous pleasures are reduced to what fits in the only open slot on our overcrowded, overwhelmed, overworked schedule. Jesus is reduced to a half version of what we truly need Him to be because we are too busy to give Him time and space in our hearts and lives to be the full version of Himself. 

This just in– Jesus doesn’t work like that.  Relationship with Jesus Christ is all or nothing.  Either your whole life is saturated with Him or you are starving your soul.  There is no diet plan Jesus. (Matthew 6:24) You can’t opt-out of the commands you don’t like. You can’t call on Him only when you’re in crisis.  You can’t fake relationship with Jesus. There is no substitute. Jesus comes only in full caff. (Revelation 3:15-16)   

In a world where we are continually pressed to join some food plan, try the new fad diet, cut this, add that, the One thing you can always have is Jesus. All of Him. He calls our tired hearts and bodies to come to Him for rest and peace. (Matthew 11:28) He calls us to fill our empty souls with His Spirit. (Ephesians 5:18)  And once full, He sends us out to show the world the truth about Jesus. His love. His mercy. His grace. Every single aspect of our lives should reflect His attributes. (Leviticus 20:7) If you are full of Jesus, everyone around you will know. You’ll be overflowing, because there is no reduced version.That is the purpose of this blog. To remind myself and every reader who blesses me with a moment of their time, to follow Jesus.  Wholeheartedly. (Jeremiah 29:13) Incessantly. (I Chronicles 16:11) Tirelessly. (Psalm 63:1,8) Live His teachings, His commands, His heart.  Show the world the boundlessness of Jesus. Love. Forgive. Obey. Help. Hope. Trust. (Ephesians 5:1-2) No matter how many low carb, fat-free, gluten-free, allergy-friendly, low sodium, sugarless packages fill your cupboards, you can still have full strength Jesus.   So I invite you to join me as I open my Bible and drink in Jesus. All of Him. Every. Single. Drop. I have a lot to learn for sure, but this I know, my coffee might be decaf, but my Jesus isn’t!!