Randy Greenwald

Concerning Life as It Is Supposed to Be

Author: Randy Page 1 of 141

What’s Up with The Book?

Several times recently I’ve been asked, “What’s going on with The Book?”

The question brings a huge smile to my face (behind my mask, of course) and places the asker in danger of having to listen to me talk far beyond where he or she intended.

Yes, The Book, Something Worth Living For: God, the World, Yourself, and the Shorter Catechism, is still in process. The fact that I keep capitalizing The Book shows what a big deal this is for me. (Don’t know what I’m talking about? Read about it here.)

I was pleased in January to have finished something I had set out a couple of years before to do. To then have a publisher (Christian Focus Publications or CFP) agree to invest its own resources into perfecting, printing, and distributing it was, while deeply desired, surreal.

Since then, I’ve worked through the text two or three times. I first significantly reworked the manuscript for initial submission to CFP. Then an editor went through it with me, bringing better order, and a more personal feel, to the whole. Family references became specific. ‘My daughter,’ for example, became ‘Jerusha’ and ‘my wife’ became ‘Barb.’ Then, after the manuscript passed through two CFP proofreaders, Barb and I read through the whole and submitted to CFP 14 pages of suggested corrections and changes. Through it all Christian Focus has been wonderful to work with.

Meanwhile, both I and CFP sought endorsements. I have been moved simply by the fact that people would be willing to read it with an eye toward lending support. Words like ‘thoughtfully applied’ (Mark Johnston / Bethel Presbyterian Church, Wales), ‘centered in Christ and the gospel of saving and transforming grace’ (Mark Dalbey / Covenant Seminary, St. Louis), and ‘pastoral entryway to Christianity’ (Michael Allen / Reformed Seminary, Orlando) touch upon the heart I sought to bring to this. That others sensed that is gratifying. So are words like ‘highly recommended’ (Craig Carter / Tyndale University, Toronto), ‘important work’ (Ray Cortese / Seven Rivers Presbyterian Church, Florida), and ‘a welcome tool’ (Michael Haykin / Southern Baptist Seminary, Louisville).

Though we are told metaphorically to never judge a book by its cover, we all do. My kids weighed in (heavily!) on CFP’s first proposal. In the end, the publisher has dressed The Book nicely, preparing it to be seen in public

And public it is becoming. Sites like Amazon and other retailers now list the book, albeit with some missing and inaccurate info (soon to be corrected). Some have already pre-ordered it. (Hint, hint . . . .)

Having signed off on the cover (proudly accompanying this post) and the manuscript, I am now mostly a spectator as The Book heads off to the printer to prepare for its November release.

And so I must transition from author to marketeer. I am writing articles for another blog (not this one!) and plotting ways to help the book get noticed. Shortly I’ll loop you readers into how you can help, for your help I will need.

Thanks for your interest and encouragement.

I’m still smiling. Behind my mask.

The Saints in the Land

I was mopping today thinking good thoughts of a dear friend. That’s what she always called me. A dear friend. I was her pastor once and I suppose with a friend like her one is always her pastor. She called me Tuesday because I had failed to respond to a few emails – emails I assumed were newsy and could wait, but perhaps emails the contents of which I somehow instinctively feared. So we talked, Adri and I, and laughed, and she cried as she shared the news of her liver cancer diagnosis, the subject of the unread emails. We talked of death. She said, “I’m not afraid of death; it’s the process that scares me.”

Gus and Adri, April, 2011

I was thinking good thoughts of our lives together – her unwavering support, her immense trust in me, her unflagging zeal for the things of God. I thought of the blonde jokes I delighted in telling her, and the verbal jabs I’d receive back. I thought of her laugh and her smile. I thought of her deep devotion to her family and her insistence that her youngest son was to be called “Nathaniel,” not “Nate,” as he is known to the rest of the world. I thought of how she would arm herself with pictures of her grandchildren to show me and her feisty resistance when I joked that all babies are ugly at the start. She won that one. I lamented how she, of that wonderfully inquisitive and thoughtful mind, often would disparage herself as stupid.

It is sad what it takes to stimulate meditation on the value of a person. I was thinking good thoughts of my dear friend Adri and her devoted husband Gus because I received word Friday that Adri had suddenly taken ill and was in the ER in critical condition. Why, we don’t yet know. But she wanted me to know she was there. She told her sister who took her to the ER, “Get Randy’s phone number. He doesn’t answer his emails.”

That was Friday. By Saturday morning I received word that her sons had agreed to a DNR order and the ventilator was being removed. She had been showing no signs of any ability to breath on her own. She was afraid of the process of dying, not death. God knew that and showed her grace. Her battle is over. The rest of us grieve.

Paul Miller in his book A Praying Life encourages us to create prayer cards for those for whom we pray. On these cards are to go the names of the people, the things we pray for, and any scripture that in some way represents the person or persons or guides our prayers for them. When I prepared the card for Gus and Adri, years ago, I could only think of Psalm 16:3.

“As for the saints in the land,
they are the excellent ones,in whom is all my delight.”

And now, there is one less saint in the land.

In my study hangs a needle work piece that Adri made for me years ago of the first question and answer of the Heidelberg Catechism. It is fitting to end with that. This indeed was Adri’s only comfort in life, and in death.

Q. What is your only comfort in life and in death?
A. My only comfort in life and in death is that I am not my own,
but belong-body and soul in life and in death-
to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ.
He has fully paid all my sins with his precious blood,
and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil.
He also watches over me in such a way
that not a hair can fall from my head
without the will of my Father in heaven:
in fact, all things must work together
for my salvation.
Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit,
assures me of eternal life
and makes me wholeheartedly willing
and ready from now on to live for him.

Making Better Men (Reprise)

My contention in previous posts (here, here, here, and here) has been that we make better men by calling on men to be better people, not by building illusory models of masculinity imaginatively drawn from Scripture. Since posting, I’ve been gratified to stumble across others saying similar things, albeit with far greater erudition and eloquence. A recent post on the First Things site is entitled “Making Better Men,” and it is worth a read.

Speaking of the male role models in his life, the author, First Things assistant editor Alexi Sargeant says:

The strength of both these fathers, physical and spiritual, was a humble one, in that they had no need to boast or domineer. They had the character to suffer wrongs patiently and trust in God rather than crave the accolades of men. I am grateful that my image of masculinity was formed by these men of faith and integrity. They modeled love and respect in their marriages and their friendships, building up the people God had placed in their lives with care, devotion, and joy. This unpretentious constancy is what men should strive for. When I ask my friends for their formative, positive male role models, the answers (real and fictional) were often men of quiet confidence and steadfast service, like St. Maximilian Kolbe or Atticus Finch of To Kill A Mockingbird.

That a lesser, as he calls it ‘a dingier’, sense of manliness is seemingly embodied in the popularity of Donald Trump is sad to me as I think it does reflect something of the confusion men feel as to what it means to be a genuine, or decent, man. Sargeant notes that

The virtuous man, by contrast, demonstrates both self-control and self-respect.

And he calls us to find, and to be, better role models.

To which I say, “Amen.”

More on “Manliness” (Reprise)

It was our date night, and my wife wanted to shop for some shorts. I was willing to set aside my natural aversion to shopping, and shopping for women’s clothes in particular, on a date night no less, in order to accompany her cheerfully and to earn some serious husband points in the process.

After visiting several stores we ended up at a Montgomery Ward department store, which dates this story a bit. As she was holding up a pair of shorts to the light, I said, “Why don’t you just buy this pair?” I suspect my patience was running out. She said something like, “Oh, I wasn’t going to buy anything; I’m just looking.”

I realized then what was meant by those who had said in messages about the differences between men and women that women shop, but men hunt.

That’s been a fun distinction to think about and, to an extent, joke about. When I go to the store, I set a bullseye to this item and a bullseye on that item. I grab them and throw them in the cart and leave. Barb will stop and read the labels and pause and think and consider. We cannot go to the store together. She shops and I hunt.

What I should NOT do, however, is to generalize from my own limited personal experience to say that this is a ‘masculine’ trait, an aspect of what it means to be a man. I should especially not hit the Christian speaker circuit (as if anyone would want me to) drawing that and other distinctions of dubious value which I doubt would stand up under clinical scrutiny. In fact, I suspect that there are other couples where the husband is more likely to shop, and the woman more likely to hunt. Is he therefore less man-like?

The effort to find a so-called ‘biblical’ masculinity is fraught with this danger. We ought never to generalize from our own cultural or personal experience distinctions which we observe as if they apply to all men or women. Nor should we legitimize these distinctions by calling them biblical. Whether I hunt or shop of course is fairly innocuous. But we baptize other instincts as ‘manly’ or ‘masculine’ such as dominance or vengeance or, even so-called ‘locker-room talk’. These may be in fact sinful instincts best overwhelmed by a pursuit of decency.

Film director Scott Derrickson noted recently that things such as racism and misogyny are in our American DNA. It’s worse than that. It’s in our human DNA. That’s not pessimism. That’s good theology, and rings more true than the hunting/shopping distinction. Untaught, unrestrained, unaddressed, and well fed it will grow into a cancer that will consume us. What is needed is a community of ordinary men and women embracing a contrary ethic, an ethic of decency, to lead us not to generalized and perhaps imagined standards of masculinity and femininity, but to be a people reflecting as much as we are able, the standards of the kingdom of God.

Models of Biblical Decency (Reprise)

The BBC drama Foyles War starring the perfectly cast Michael Kitchen as an unflappable British detective during and after WWII is, for me, must watch television. Watch it. Watch every episode. Savor it. And as you do, consider Inspector Foyles’ character. Note his integrity and the hints of compassion and kindness. Note his perseverance and wisdom and attend to his gentle longing to be reconnected with his estranged son. And then, in one of the final episodes, listen carefully as another in his world speaks of Foyle saying, “He is a decent man.”

Christian men aim for more than decency. I get that. We are to be godly and Christ-like. But we could do little worse than to find models of mere decency and learn from them.

To find such models requires searching not because they are rare. Rather, decent men are not bombastic and they do not promote themselves any more than is necessary for their particular calling. Find men who care for their corner of the world and do so faithfully. These will be the decent men. Flawed they will be, for sure, and broken in ways they themselves may not be able to see. But their humility will lead them to face those flaws and seek to work beyond them. Reflect for a while, and you will think of men who bear the attributes that draw us: compassion, mercy, and kindness, with an ear quick to listen and lips that are careful to build up and not tear down. Decent men should be our models.

Popular culture gives us super-heroes whose impulse is to fight and exact vengeance. More people know of John Wick or Jason Bourne than of Christopher Foyle. Others should be known. Many know of Atticus Finch, the courageous and quietly compassionate attorney in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. I’m struck, too, by the decency of Tom Robinson, the harassed and falsely accused black man whom Finch defends, or of Boo Ridley, the reclusive rescuer of children. Decent men, they are, functioning as best they can in a broken world.

In Alan Paton’s wonderful novel Cry, the Beloved Country the Zulu South African Anglican pastor Stephen Kumalo lives with his wife in poor, desolate Ndotsheni. There he cares for his church and all who live in its vicinity. He loves them and they love him. Circumstances lead Stephen to the big city of Johannesburg where tragedy and heartbreak await him. Though he gives in to the impulse to hurt others at times, his repentance is real and deep. Most of the time he sees the right thing to do, and does it though it costs him dearly. His decency is so real that I have a hard time remembering that he in fact never existed. I want him to exist. He is a decent man.

I’m drawn as well, as have been many others, to the fundamental decency of the Reverend John Ames, the congregational pastor in Marilynne Robinson’s novels Gilead, Home, and Lila. The Rev. Mr. Ames, too, is flawed. And yet those who meet him in these novels will remember his tenderness, his kindness, and his integrity. We walk away from time spent with him understanding that he is a decent man whom we wish to know better.

Decent men (and women) are those who, in spite of their imperfections and weaknesses, act in a direction that reveals genuine character and virtue. The men profiled here never existed. And yet they exist quietly all around us and should become our models, models of biblical decency.

The Allure of Biblical Decency (Reprise)

At a political rally a Christian pastor proclaims,

“In a manly time of struggle one cannot get by with effeminate and sweet talk of peace.”

One can imagine his comments receiving a vigorous supportive response. Men, even Christian men, are to be marked by strength and aggression. We are to fight for our rights and never back down. Real men pack heat and and kick ass when called upon.

And I wonder if we’ve read our cultural biases into a Christian script and gotten off track somewhere. Perhaps way off. The Christian pastor spoke these words at a 1937 rally in Frankfort, Germany, in support of Adolph Hitler.

Christianity’s current determination to make sharp distinctions between masculinity and femininity is, while aimed at a good goal, wildly off the mark. Nostalgia leads us to imagine a time when men were men and women were women. We feed off that nostalgia, no matter how inaccurate, and then find in our Bibles verses that seem to anchor those claims in scripture. That’s a bad idea all around.

And yet the motive is a good one. Christian men are wondering how to shape their character and how to be obedient as a man to their Christian discipleship. It is good to give them direction. But the issue is not masculinity but decency. Let’s guide men toward decency.

But isn’t the word ‘decent’ too tepid? Isn’t it too broad? Perhaps. I know there are those who sense some of the same things I do who rightly prefer to speak of ‘godliness.’ I don’t quibble with that. To be godly is to be decent. But the language of decency speaks to a broader public and includes within its boundaries people of virtuous character who make no claim to Christianity. Christian men seeking to be godly men will be decent men, will be good men. That is language I think we can understand and live with.

Such decency will be for us defined by Scripture. It is modeled by Christ. It is outlined in the gospels and the epistles. It includes attributes we ordinarily attribute to masculinity – courage, for example, and integrity – and those we see as more feminine – compassion and gentleness. We should pursue these things not because we want to be men, but because we want to be like Jesus. And in our current context, to aim to be simply decent men will be to run against the tide, politically and culturally. It is an act of rebellion.

When the question is asked, “What kind of people do you associate with the church?” I want the answer to be, “Decent people.” There is a certain appeal to looking at a person, man or woman, and noting their fundamental decency and longing that more of us might evidence such character. My appeal as a pastor speaking to men who want to be men is simply this: let’s be decent men.

I could be drawn to a community, a church, a nation, and a world comprised of decent men. I’m not sure how to seed the world that it might sprout such men, but that would be the world in which I’d like to live.

Note: The quote with which this post begins appears on page 262 in Charles Marsh’s Strange Glory: A Life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a book I hope to review here soon. (Which I did here.)

The Myth of Biblical Masculinity (Reprise)

Standing in the serpentine line guiding us to our luggage after a cruise, my wife and I passed and re-passed a confident and athletic looking man wearing a t-shirt that broadcast his vision of masculinity. It said, “Cool story, Babe…now make me a sandwich.” He was not one to be pushed around, this one. He knew his place as a man and was going to assert it. Or, at least, he wanted others to THINK he knew.

We are told, though, that many men these days aren’t quite sure what their place is. And so books for “dudes” are written to guide them (with endorsements by real men like pro athletes). Charismatic pastors speak directly to men, using strong and colorful language, to shape their thinking of manliness. Defining what is called ‘Biblical Masculinity’ has become the rage and I’d like to make a modest plea that we stop trying to define what isn’t there.

My plea may arise from my not being very masculine. Yes, I can grow a beard, so there is that. And I like to hang out in my garage when I can. So far so good. But I don’t hunt. And if I do go fishing (once every decade, at least, just to keep the skills fresh), and if I were to catch anything (not likely), my wife is the one who would clean it. She likes that kind of thing. I do the grocery shopping in our family and have to be reminded how to start the lawn mower should my wife not be able to take care of the lawn some week. So perhaps my dismay over the search for biblical masculinity arises from my own confusion.

That may be so. But I like to think it arises from the fact that the Bible shows a complete lack of concern for such a thing. I don’t see Jesus or Paul or any of the gospel writers or apostles overtly concerned with teaching men how to be men. Yes, we are given some direction as husbands and fathers, but many fine men are neither.

I would plea that we simply get over trying to be men and replace that with a passion to be decent. How about we champion the admittedly rather bland and gender inclusive goal of biblical decency? We could stand for this, couldn’t we?

I don’t think the book on this has yet been written, but certainly it would include a chapter on kindness. And for sure there would be one on the courage to stand for the weak. Another would encourage integrity and fidelity. And it must include one on owning our wrong and making it right. It would cover all the essentials of what makes for a decent, if not ‘manly’, man. Compassion. Patience. And the meekness with which one will inherit the earth.

I’m open to correction here. Maybe ‘biblical masculinity’ is a genuine biblical thing. But even so, should not the pursuit of ‘biblical decency’ be an even more noble cause? To embrace that is my plea.

I’m sure my sons would have loved to have had a more manly dad. They had to have other guys show them how to fish and to take them hunting. I did go backpacking with the older two once, so maybe that counted for something. But as I recall, none of them ever sat me down and urged me to do more ‘manly’ things.

One, though, did sit me down and ask me to be more gentle. I think he wanted a dad who was a more decent man. And that is a good longing.

Go think about it, men, as you make your sandwich. Make one for your wife as well. It would be the decent thing to do.

Deliver Us from Manhood

Three and one-half years ago I wrote a series of posts questioning the whole idea of “Biblical Manhood.” My concern was to call men to quit worrying about being “manly,” whatever that might mean, and to embrace decency instead. “Biblical Decency” seems to me to be a far more defensible concept. To be a decent, trustworthy, and compassionate guy seems to me to be something more critical than exercising some dubious quality called masculinity.

Those posts bear reposting. We live in a moment that more than ever seems devoid of decency. Among the many examples that could be named (such as the macho chest pounding that passes as US foreign policy, and is cheered by some Christians) the primary one that leads me to revisit these posts is the one that has landed hard on my corner of the Christian world. In this corner, the one that birthed the idea of “Biblical Manhood,” there has been shown to be great rottenness. That brings shame on us all.

Aimee Byrd, a thoughtful and articulate woman, has written a book in which she challenges some of the assumptions and consequences of the Biblical Manhood movement. The response she has received has been ugly. “Biblical Men” can apparently be mean, which should cast a suspicious cloud over the whole business. The controversy has been well summarized by Ed Stetzer in Christianity Today and discussed by Byrd herself here and to some degree here. It seems that to some men what matters is not that she is thoughtful and articulate. What matters is that she is a woman. Frightened, I suppose, by a strong and courageous woman, they have launched ad hominen attacks on her character, her appearance, and her biblical faithfulness.

This is disheartening to me. (No doubt this is because I’m an effeminate softie.) But I would think it obvious to most that decent men or women do not demean the looks or reputations of others, whether those others be men or women. How can this be such a hard lesson to learn? Boys will be boys, some say, though even that is worth questioning. But men should be granted no pass to be cruel. We will be, of course. Occasionally we will say something mean or disparaging of another. But when called on it, decent men own it and seek forgiveness. So do women. It’s a part of being a Christian.

So, yes, for what it is worth, these things bear repeating and reposting. So, I will repost over the next several days. If you don’t want to wait, you can read them in their original setting here.

All Things Being (Un)Equal – the Prayer Edition

My wife and I were praying together after breakfast, as we do. It was her turn, and in a context I’ve since forgotten, she included this line in her prayer, “. . . it’s been a long time. . .” and for me all concentration was gone. Whatever spiritual demeanor I had worked up for that moment, drained away and was replaced with a series of queries, each leading to another.

“Where’s that line from?”

“Oh, right – from a Led Zeppelin song. What song?”

“I can’t remember. I need to look it up. Wait, I can’t do that right now. Okay. What are the other lines?”

“Wait. Barb’s still praying. Oh, she’s almost done. I’ll look it up then.”

There you have it. Insight into the mind and heart of a Deeply Spiritual Pastor.


I joke about being a Deeply Spiritual Pastor. But it is no joke that Christians condemn themselves without mercy for the state of their prayer lives. Perhaps we do need to pray more, or more often, or with more people. Others have addressed all those questions.

The question which few address is why it is hard for some of us to meet the goals others set for us. I would like to suggest that some of us are not wired to pray like everyone else. And to consider this can be greatly freeing.


I have never done well with private prayer. Sometimes that’s because I question its power or usefulness, issues of theology and faith whose solution lies elsewhere. I have something else in mind here.

Sometimes I struggle with prayer simply because it is profoundly difficult for me to sit still. I have a good system for prayer. I flip through names on cards and recite to God my concerns for each person, and this has value. But I quickly grow antsy.

I am fine with this until I read or hear someone say that we can assess the spiritual vitality of a person by his prayer life. We can know, it is said, what a man truly believes by the quality of his prayers. And suddenly, I feel like a spiritual hamster. I follow the rules for prayer, but as for Experiencing Awe and Intimacy with God, no, Tim, it ain’t happening that way for me.

Should I even be a pastor? What’s wrong with me?

I know others of you struggle as well and for you I want to offer a suggestion. What if we struggle not because there is anything wrong with us, but because who we are does not fit with the majority opinion on how prayer is to be done? What if some of us are cut out of different cloth?

The cloth from which I come is sufficiently ADHD that focus is a genuine problem. Create an environment in which I am to be alone with my thoughts and distractions come easy. Let a lyric from an old song cross my mind and I’ll chase that squirrel and cannot help myself. That should not reflect poorly on my or your spiritual vitality.

Maybe the way some of us are wired makes it fundamentally more difficult for us to pray privately than others. Maybe we are not like those spiritual giants whom we are told we are to emulate because we have, in fact, a more slippery hill to climb.


I posed these questions to my good friend and reluctant mentor Larry Edison, whose response was to write a book reflecting on the unique challenges that those with unique neurology face when sitting down (if they sit!) to pray. I know of no one else saying these things.

Notice the credentials following Larry’s name.

Larry does not want us to use diagnoses as an excuse for sin. At the same time he wants to liberate those whose minds work differently from the templates and paradigms laid down by those who write the standard books. The guilt for non-conformity and the shame of inability is already great in other ways for those with an a-typical mind. We would never tell a person with paralyzed legs that they must climb the stairs or the blind that they must admire a piece of an art. Why then do we insist that those incapable of focus should judge the quality of their spiritual lives by their conformity to a certain paradigm of mental focus?

It’s freeing to be told that perhaps prayer is more difficult because one’s brain is wired differently those who write the books and that is okay.

Always practical, Larry is honest about ways he has found to “pray without ceasing” that fit the way his ADHD brain works. You can judge the quality of a man by his prayers. But not if you force him to pray like everyone else.


The cover alone will encourage those of us with attention struggles. It was drawn for Larry by his good friend Tom Armstrong, creator of the syndicated comic strip Marvin.


Prayer will always be a struggle for Christians. It is, by nature, a declaration of dependence upon another, and our flesh will resist that. Let’s just make sure we are struggling with our flesh, and not with the expectations placed on us by well-intentioned but overzealous Christians. It’s encouraging to know that Right for me may be Different from the good people who write the books.


For those of you who have “read” this far, but not retained a word, I understand you completely. The information you are looking for is “Rock and Roll” released by Led Zeppelin in 1972.

Foolishness – Letters to a Church Displaced

I am posting excerpts from pastoral letters written for the congregation of Covenant Presbyterian Church in Oviedo, Florida. These are offered with the prayerful hope that others might find perspective or encouragement in them.


One of the ways Jesus exercises his rule on earth is through his church. The world does not see Jesus, but it sees us. This should cause us to think carefully about how the world sees us. On the one hand, the judgment the world makes of us is not to concern us. We are more than willing to be considered fools for the sake of the gospel. Let the world deride our profession. But, in another sense, the judgment the world makes of us must shape our behavior. As we maintain a good reputation among outsiders, they, through their judgment of us, glorify God in heaven.

This is me, in my garage, wearing
“The Emperor’s New Mask.”
My wife and kids tell me that it is insufficient.

I think of this latter sense when I remember that “it has been testified somewhere” (actually in 1 Corinthians 9) that it is a gospel act to “become all things to all people that by all means we might save some.” And this comes to mind when I consider whether I should wear a mask in public places or not. I really am not a fan. Perhaps you are not either. However, there will be others who will be made more or less comfortable by my mask-wearing choice. In the judgment of whether to wear it or not, if by my wearing it I can protect some, then I should wear it. If my wearing it sends the message that I, a Christian, and I, a pastor, have concern and love for my neighbor, then it seems to me to be a good thing. I will become all things, even a mask-wearer, if by that means I might, if not save people, then at least not be a stumbling block before them.

And before you, rightfully, say to me “it has been testified somewhere” that I am a hypocrite, I own it. This conviction regarding mask wearing as a gospel act has only slowly come to me. I will start wearing it as soon as my wife finishes making mine.

But the principle I’m articulating here, of course, goes far beyond masks. May we be made to be fools before the world, if that is what it takes to retain honor to Jesus. But may we also be willing to be made foolish (and uncomfortable!) to ourselves if by that means we can show the love of Christ to those around us.

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