The Presentation of Our Lord Readings for today: Malachi 3:1-4 Psalm 24:7-10 Hebrews 2:14-18 Luke 2:22-40 The Collect of the Day: Almighty and everliving God, we humbly pray that, as your only-begotten Son was this day presented in the temple, so we may be presented to you with pure and clean hearts by Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Many are the parishioners who have shared with me the impact of the final blessing at the end of our Eucharist on Sundays. Many are the parishioners who love the blessing. Some have actually suggested that I include the blessing in the bulletin so they can take it with them and reflect on it. A few months after I began offering the blessing a parishioner asked me to email it to him, and I gladly did because I believed that like many others the prayer found a home in his heart. And if I remember correctly, each night before he retires to bed, both he and his wife pray that blessing. The blessing was authored by Henri-Frédéric Amiel, a Swiss moral philosopher and poet. He writes “Life is short. We don't have much time to gladden the hearts of those who walk this way with us. So, be swift to love and make haste to be kind.” It is such a powerful prayer. I have no idea what motivated Henri to author a prayer so profound and focused not on anything lofty, but on the essence of life and what life is all about. To the many people who have stopped to talk to me about the prayer, I can tell that something about that blessing evokes in them the core of what life should be about - kindness and love on a journey so fraught with meaninglessness, depression, chaos and death. Yet, in the midst of these darknesses, we are invited to trust and hope in a God who appears esoteric. I was at a memorial in Ghana many, many years ago. And the interesting thing about the church in Ghana is, when you are a member of a parish and you do not tithe, when you die, your Burial Office is said at home. Well, it so happened that a parishioner of the local Anglican parish passed. But because this person didn’t tithe, the Burial Office was read at home. A local Anglican Evangelist was asked to preach since no clergy would preach. In the course of his sermon, the evangelist pulled an egg from his pocket, and invited everyone to look at the egg, and then out of nowhere, he dropped the egg. And because the floor was concrete, the egg fell apart upon impact. The shell was broken into many pieces and the yoke was splattered on the floor. That was a visible demonstration of the fragility of life. That image had stuck with me ever since. And anytime I offer that prayer, it is as if I am looking at an egg in a pocket, and watching the egg drop and scatter. Such was my feeling this past Sunday when I read the TMZ report of the passing of Kobe Bryant. I thought it was a joke and so I checked the New York Times, CNN, Washington Post, LA Times, ESPN and Yahoo News to confirm for myself what I just read. But none of the news outlets had broken the story. For that brief moment where I was searched for any information or confirmation, I was in denial. It felt to me that nothing like death would ever befall on Kobe - especially at this most prime of his life. He was way too young and talented to die. He had a beautiful and full life ahead of him. For that brief moment of living in denial, we don’t question at all because we are soaked deep in an assurance built on the wild illusion that a basketball star, a young person, or a loved one doesn’t deserve to die. He is your star as well as mine. I loved him. I loved his dedication to higher standards. I loved his distaste for mediocrity. I loved his dislike for lazy people. I loved his work ethic. I loved his dedication to his family. I loved everything Kobe. It breaks my heart that he died alongside his daughter, other parents, and children who were in the same basketball team with his daughter. My stomach churns over the fact that he passed whiles doing what he loved to do - being a dad, full of kindness and love. All of our lives are like an egg in a pocket. We really don’t know which egg the evangelist will pick, and whether the egg bears your name or another person’s name. We live on borrowed time, and Job rightly reminds us that “Man (woman) that is born of a woman has but a few days and is full of trouble.” It is therefore for the sake of all the troubles which consume our lives that the Psalmist prays the Lord to“Teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.” For this reason it hurts me deeply when I come across those who are so consumed with themselves that they simply cannot enjoy the gifts that others and life have to offer. It saddens my heart when I come across those who are so full of themselves that they believe they own their space - no, you don’t. You have but a few days to live. It frustrates me ever deeply when we hang on to stuff that, in the long run, do not matter, define who we are, or diminish us in any way. It distresses me ever more deeply when we hold on to little things, grudges which destroy relationships because of wrongs done to us. It breaks my heart when we miss the most important things in life - kindness and love because of betrayals, disappointments and hurt feelings. During times like these, I ask myself what this is all about. Maybe, you have also asked yourself that same question or something similar. The emptiness which cloud our lives gives us no other option but to be hopeful in a God who offers us more than the solace of a new day, He prods us to walk on a path of kindness and love. For, after all is said and done, these two words - kindness and love - are all that will matter. This is one of the difficult times when my faith in God is rather strengthened. For if I opt not to believe in God, what then do I believe in? Myself? Heck no!! I cannot even help myself, much more to believe in myself to save myself. And so in the midst of our helplessness and deepest grief, let me share with you a prayer by Bishop Steven Charleston-a retired Native American Bishop of The Episcopal Church. He writes “Fill me again, great Spirt, with all that I need to make it through this life of mine. Give me the vision I need to see clearly. Give me the strength I need to keep going. Give me the love I need to share what I have with others. Let me have a little courage and lot of wisdom, as much hope as you can spare…please give me your blessings again, dear Spirit, for I use them up so quickly in these dark times.” I have come to learn that oftentimes it isn’t about what we have, or even that which expresses our worth, but what we are. And in all cases, we are an egg in a pocket. To understand this is to live with a kind of humility that values all relationships and seeks to empower others to be their better angels. To understand this is to be thankful, and to live thankfully. With whom do you have to reconnect? To whom do you have to express your love? Who deserves your kindness today and always? Life is short…be swift to love and make haste to be kind. ~Manny

On Monday evenings at 6:00 p.m., Christ Church hosts Centering Prayer in Old Brick. This is a prayer method based on the intuitive prayer rooted in Lectio Divina, silent worship that prepares us to receive the gift of contemplative prayer in which we experience the Divine’s presence with us. Centering Prayer is grounded in our relationship with God, through Christ, and is a practice to help nurture that relationship. We hope that you will come and be a part of this new gathering of reflection.

Last week, I had the privilege of joining several Christian, Jewish, and Muslim leaders at the Seventh Day Adventist Center here in Columbia. This event is an annual gathering of religious leaders from various faith traditions. Some of these events offer faith leaders the opportunity to meet their counterparts and to share thoughts and reflections on many of the challenges we all share, and how best to work together in confronting these challenges. The main speaker for the event - a pastor of an African Methodist Episcopal Church in Bowie - expounded on a thought that I have not only heard several times before but also one which is prevalent up and down this great country. The thought he expounded upon is that “11:00 A.M on Sunday morning is the most segregated hour in America.” That is the time when Whites worship in White churches and Blacks worship in Black churches. But he didn’t stop there; he boldly lumped together the weekend days and stated, “Weekends are the most segregated days of the week in America.” We generally gather at different places of employment for business affairs from Monday through Friday. And it is the case because we are literally forced to do so since the culture of our jobs or business doesn’t tolerate the contrary. But for the most part, we really can’t wait to go home to our neighborhoods, to our friends, and spouses who look like us. We are keenly aware that no one requires of us to have any number of different people in our house, and the comfort in knowing that often perpetuates our penchant for desiring to live with a "silo mentality". This speaker then traced the history of the AME Church, which began in Philadelphia on a Sunday morning as Black worshipers, who had gathered at the altar rails in the front of St. George’s United Methodist Church to pray, were asked by a White usher to move and give way to White worshipers who wanted to pray at that same spot. Out of deep frustration, the Blacks left that church and, over time, began their own churches; Richard Allen founded the African Methodist Episcopal Church, and Absalom Jones became an Episcopal priest with his own congregation, which is now the African Episcopal Church of St. Thomas. Although there was a pushback against the formation of African American congregations, that incident in itself was the catalyst that helped create the segregated worship experience. Unfortunately, however, that tradition permeated and tends to continue to this day, where we have majority of our churches populated by worshipers who look like each other. When I was serving in one of my former parishes, I couldn’t get my wife to come to that church with me. We argued and quarreled over why she wouldn’t join in for worship. At the time, she had never shared with me the underlying basis of why she wouldn’t worship there until, one day in the heat of our dispute on this topic, she exclaimed that "As an African American, I don’t feel comfortable in that church." My initial reaction was one of dismay. "What do you mean you don’t feel comfortable?" I asked. Her response to me was, "Because it is all White." "So what?" I asked. "You do not understand," was her reply. Of course, I did not. I was raised in a society, and with a kind of consciousness, that took for granted the very idea that people of all races could worship together. I barely saw a White in my local church, and if there was one, it was a good feeling. I, myself, have never had any problem with worshiping anywhere. But she doesn’t share the same consciousness as I do. Being an African American, she was raised in a Black church tradition and with a consciousness which said that, on Sunday mornings, Blacks worship in their own churches and Whites worship in their own churches. Although that was antithetical to all that I had ever known and experienced in my life, it surely gave me something to think about, and forced me to ask myself questions that go to the core of what it is to be human, and to be different, and what might it take for all of our communities to outgrow our ‘silo mindedness?' Christ Episcopal Church is an outlier, and we must never take for granted that we are a crucible that hold a rich variety of God’s creative wonder. Christ Church is one of the churches where you can assure yourself that 11:00 a.m. isn’t the most segregated hour, and it is this way because we have insisted and worked very hard in creating a long tradition of offering a sacred space where we all can worship with the same people we work with, and see, from Monday to Friday. We offer a different narrative, and we should never limit ourselves in stepping beyond human categories. To a very great extent, it is a unique gift and witness that Christ Church offers to the broader church. There’s an Akan (I am a member of the Akan tribe in Ghana) proverb which states that ‘All of our fingers aren’t the same.’ Each is different, each is unique, each plays a particular role, each has its own identity - fingers tell the broader human story - we are never the same and will never be the same. As uniquely separate as each finger is, they together can fold into a fist, and are stronger together than individually. In that same vein, each person is individually unique in their own way. But the crucial point is, much as it is never a sin for me to be Black, nor a sin to be White, so is it never a sin to be anything human - do not confuse differences with defects. We reduce human nature and our unique identity to a verb when we claim that human identity, our core, is an act that is manufactured or man-made. It is not, and never has been. We have come a long way, but still have ways to go in creating trust in each other, and honoring the debt we owe one another - it’s the debt of dignity rooted in love, the kind of love that overthrows anything that isn't justice. We may not have the power to choose those we work with, but we have the power to choose where we want to be at 11:00 A.M. on Sunday morning. Use the power that you have to counter the 11:00 A.M. narrative. ~Manny

Second Sunday after the Epiphany Readings for today: Isaiah 49:1-7 Psalm 40:1-12 1 Corinthians 1:1-9 John 1:29-42 The Collect of the Day: Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ is the light of the world: Grant that your people, illumined by your Word and Sacraments, may shine with the radiance of Christ's glory, that he may be known, worshipped, and obeyed to the ends of the earth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

I grew up by a slave fort in Ghana - Fort Orange, which was built by the Dutch in 1640. It is interesting to note that Albany, New York also once contained a Fort Orange, built by the Dutch in 1624. Both of these were built sixteen years apart. The fort in Ghana stood on a hill, and had an incredible view of the Atlantic Ocean. As kids, we would occasionally tour that Fort Orange, walk through the iron gates to the courtyard, climb the stairs that led to the upper level, and walk through the living quarters. We'd sometimes sit on the concrete stairs outside the fort, or across from it, and simply watch the ocean. The history of the fort wasn’t of any particular relevance to us; ours was simply to explore and enjoy the fort as best as we could, and simply walk back home. Occasionally, we would see tourists in our neighborhood who were either on their way to visit the fort, or had just completed their visit. We'd simply jump at the sight of tourists and if we got a chance to be close to them we would ask for candy or some other gift. For many of us, it was simply a joy to see tourists in our neighborhood. And I am sure it was a joy for the tourists to also see local kids who were simply excited that they were in their neighborhood to visit Fort Orange. Today, as it has been for many decades, Fort Orange has been converted from a Slave trading post to a lighthouse. Much of its Slave trading character - especially the dungeons that held the Slaves - has been lost to history. As kids, we didn’t know the history of Fort Orange, the Slave Trade, or the thousands of our ancestors who were chained and forcibly driven through Fort Orange and shipped into the New World as merchandise. As human merchandise, they had to deal with the horrors in the fields of cotton, tobacco, sugar cane, and maize, among others. There was really no difference between them and the crops they were forced to plant and harvest. The brutalities of their taskmasters and so-called ‘owners’ led many a Slave to wake up each morning and question their very existence and dignity. The added layer of Segregation and Jim Crow suffocated and squeezed every single breath from them. But throughout the dark days that turned into years, there was no hope lost in the light that shines over darkness - our lighthouse. The keys that once held the chains that kept Slaves together in Fort Orange, and together in line, was now invisible. In fact, this time there were no keys, no locks, and no chains to hold and keep Blacks together, but Dr. Martin Luther King did not have to look very far to acknowledge the prevalence of those invisible instruments that dehumanized Black people, making visible what was designed to be invisible. Dr. King, himself, was a lighthouse - shining light on the ills that have followed Blacks since their dark days in Fort Orange, Sekondi. It is such an irony that Fort Orange now stands as a lighthouse, guiding ships to a nearby harbor. Life, in general, is such an irony, if you ask me. If a Slave fort can be turned into a lighthouse, then indeed any voice that provides the basis or rationale for the dehumanization of anyone, any voice that believes in separate but equal, any voice that still believes in condemning a segment of our population to a dungeon experience and so continues to convince itself that human nobility rests in a perceived superior nature, or human nobility depends on being superior over the other, can and must be open to experience a change that turns that voice into a lighthouse. Ernest Hemingway reminds us with these wise words: “There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is in being superior to your former self.” That self whose darkness is eerily similar to the darkness of the dungeons of Fort Orange. Remember, the former self is not so much an old self which has been made new by regeneration, but rather is a new self that emerges from the kind of reality that appreciates the dignity of every human being, a new self that pursues wisdom for its beauty and the radiance it exudes, a new self that embraces work and life with integrity, honor, and truth, a new self that is faithful in seeking the common good, is steadfast in its search for justice, fairness, and equality, is devoted to the affirmation of all men and women, and is fervent in its belief that whatever gift they possess - including themselves - is meant to be employed as a lighthouse, metaphorically guiding human ships. This week, we celebrate the life of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr - a lighthouse. There’s no way we can tell if any of his ancestors ever walked in the darkness of the dungeons of Fort Orange. But he calls on us to be lighthouses; to accept this particular invitation would mean freeing ourselves from the temptation of believing that the old familiar voice which used to question the dignity of African Americans and instill fear in people still holds sway, because it does not, and it can not. Responding to Dr. King’s call would mean accepting an invitation to walk hand-in-hand with neighbors, friends, strangers, co-workers - with anyone - believing that, in the grand scheme of things, the content of a person’s character is all that matters. We are all thankful for where we are. We are not yet where we need to be, but thank God Almighty that Fort Orange is now a lighthouse. As we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., may you resolve that you cannot be everything, nor can you do everything, but resolve to do that which you can - be a lighthouse. Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day. ~Manny

First Sunday after the Epiphany The Baptism of our Lord Readings for today: Isaiah 42:1-9 Psalm 29 Acts 10:34-43 Matthew 3:13-17 The Collect of the Day: Father in heaven, who at the baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan proclaimed him your beloved Son and anointed him with the Holy Spirit: Grant that all who are baptized into his Name may keep the covenant they have made, and boldly confess him as Lord and Savior; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen. The Sermon for Today: Fr. Manny delivered today's Sermon, and you can download or stream it below.

Who is watching you? Who is observing your every move - whether big or small? Who is judging you by even your least significant choices? Nobody? Wrong!! Many are the different people who observe what you do - whether at home, at work, while shopping, when driving a car or riding the bus, as you walk the kids to their bus stop, or as you do the many other different things that you do. The concern is that you may not see who's observing you, or who may be lurking in the shadows watching your every move. Those of you who have driven in Virginia may have noticed this sign along the highways: ‘Speed limit enforced by aircraft.’ I have always wondered where the aircraft may be. I haven't yet seen any aircraft, but the fact that I do not literally see the aircraft doesn’t mean I am not being observed. Someone is watching. Beginning on Friday evening, the Vestry will be holding a two-day retreat. The first day will be a social time, while the second day will be dedicated to our business. Some of the items on the retreat's agenda will be to evaluate Christ Church's common life over the past year, to set goals for this new year, and to conduct a Mutual Ministry Review with the Rector. This retreat is one of the salient and solemn responsibilities of the Vestry, as the lay leaders of the parish share their thoughts, and those of our parishioners, with the Rector. In turn, the Rector shares his thoughts and concerns with the Vestry, and together we will reflect on the best possible ways to grow together and deepen our common life. It is an important piece of exercise that falls within the ambit of Socrates’ thoughts that “An unexamined life is not worth living.” That is to say that in order to properly and efficiently serve you - the faithful people of this parish - we have to engage in a moment of self-reflection. And self-reflection is only made possible if someone is observing or paying attention to our every move so we can talk about those actions and make the necessary amendments. The idea that someone you may know or may not know is watching from the shadows reminds me of a story of a newly ordained Anglican priest who was posted to a small town in the north of England. On his first day, he put on his street clothes and hopped on a bus to explore the town. When he sat down in the back of the bus, he noticed that the driver had given him 50 pence more change than he should have. His first instinct was to return the extra change, but then on second thought he figured maybe it was a small token blessing from God, with no need to return it. Then again, he thought that this was more change than he was entitled to, and the proper thing to do would be to return it. He also thought of how insignificant 50p was... would the driver really miss it? He proceeded to hold it in his hand throughout his journey. At the end of his bus ride, he rose from his seat and walked down the aisle to leave the bus. Just before he stepped off, he paused for a moment. Then he turned to the driver and said, "You gave me 50p extra change by accident. Here it is." The driver took the change, thanked him, and then asked, "You're the new priest, aren't you?" "Yes I am," the priest said, surprised. The bus driver smiled and said, "I have been trying to decide whether or not I should come to your church, so I deliberately gave you extra change as a test to see if you would actually act as a Christian should. Since you did just that, I'll see you on Sunday," and with a wink, he shut the bus door after the priest disembarked, and drove away. The priest collapsed onto a nearby bench, and held his head in his hands for several seconds before lifting his head heavenwards. "Oh God," he cried. "I almost sold your child for 50 pence! Yes - 50 pence. I am sure you have heard the adage ‘Do the right thing, even when no one is looking.’ That is called integrity. I’d like to invite you to ponder what the bus driver might have told himself had the priest kept the extra 50p. It likely would've shattered his confidence in the priest, and the church the priest represents; if the priest can take as little as 50 pence, what else is he not capable of taking? Luke comes to mind when he says "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much.” You may not know who it is that may be watching you, or may be testing to see what you will be doing with the extra 50p that isn’t yours. They may acknowledge that you may not be the best at everything, but they are watching to see if you will return the 50 pence. ~Manny

All are welcome to join us for The Feast of The Epiphany at Christ Episcopal Church on Monday evening. We will gather in Old Brick at 7:00 p.m. to celebrate the start of this season. The gospel stories of the season of Epiphany describe various events that manifest the divinity of Jesus. Epiphany is the manifestation of Christ to the peoples of the earth. The winter solstice was kept on Jan. 6 at some places during the first centuries of the Christian Era. In opposition to pagan festivals, Christians chose this day to celebrate the various manifestations, or "epiphanies," of Jesus' divinity. These showings of his divinity included his birth, the coming of the Magi, his baptism, and the Wedding at Cana where he miraculously changed water into wine. The day was called "The Feast of Lights." Celebration of the Son of God replaced celebration of the sun. Baptisms were done, and a season of preparation was instituted. It was later called Advent. The solstice was kept on Dec. 25 by the fourth century. Jesus' birth was celebrated on this day in both eastern and western churches. The western church commemorated the coming of the Magi on Jan. 6. The eastern church continued to celebrate the Baptism of our Lord and the Wedding at Cana on Jan. 6. In the east the day was called "Theophany" (manifestation of God). The coming of the Magi is celebrated on the Feast of the Epiphany, Jan. 6, in the Book of Common Prayer, and the Baptism of our Lord is celebrated on the First Sunday after the Epiphany.

This is The Feast of The Holy Name. Readings for today: Numbers 6:22-27 Psalm 8 Galatians 4:4-7 Luke 2:15-21 The Collect of the Day: Eternal Father, you gave to your incarnate Son the holy name of Jesus to be the sign of our salvation: Plant in every heart, we pray, the love of him who is the Savior of the world, our Lord Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

It has been a wonderful decade. Many are the innovative technologies that has made our lives a little more comfortable. My one fascination is the Tesla - to experience that car drive itself is close to heaven. Life is looking up, and we celebrate the amazing blessings of our lives. We have had challenges, no doubt, but within those challenges have been opportunities of new blessings and self-discovery. More than anything else, we often feel the toll of difficult medical issues that afflict us and our loved ones, and which sap the energy and zest out of our lives. Although we have made significant progress towards solving some of these medical problems, lots more need to be done, and I am hopeful that this new decade will open new avenues of cure. For me, one of the low points of the past decade has been the surge in mass shootings at schools, malls, churches, synagogues, mosques and many other places. It often feels that is our new normal. The most disturbing trend has been that every time I watch the local news on TV, it is as if life is about death and destruction. "There’s more to life," I would assure myself. As tragic as these shootings have been, the one that quickly jumps to mind is the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School. I remember that it did hit me so hard, and it did so mainly because my two older daughters were in elementary school at that time. I remember that my first question was, "What if…?" I am sure your sentiment upon hearing about this tragedy was as close as mine. Like each of us, you may not remember when you asked your first question, or the type of question it was. We, on the other hand, know of God’s first question to Adam and Eve. When they heard of God’s footsteps in the Garden, they hid themselves. And when God found them, His first question to them is the first question we read in scripture: "Where are you?" This marked the broken friendship between God, Adam and Eve. A by-product of this broken friendship is reflected in the relationship between Cain and Abel. With them, we learn that the first human question was about responsibility. "Am I my brother’s keeper?" Cain asked. That was the first human question recorded in scripture. And in a real and powerful way, it is the crucial first question we grapple with on a daily basis. Do I have responsibility for others? Are you your brother or sister’s keeper? As I do every Sunday at Christ Church, I used to stand at the back of the last pew at a previous parish. There was an old lady, Mrs. Hughes, who would always come up the line for a little chat and to shake hands. My first question to Mrs. Hughes when she came up the line was, "Hello Mrs. Hughes, how are you doing?" She had a standard response: "One foot in front of the other." Over the years I came to realize that she took great delight with her response. Hers was an effort to assure me that all was well. She knew I cared about her, not only as a pastoral responsibility, but something much deeper than that. I came to learn that in so far as she had one foot in front of the other, she was good, and all was well - a response to my first question. One foot in front of the other. The line reminds me, especially at this time as we welcome a New Year, of a quote by an unknown author whose desire was to capture the human story. He or she writes: 'You fall, you rise, you make mistakes, you live, you learn. You’re human, not perfect. You’ve been hurt, but you’re alive. Think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive - to breathe, to think, to enjoy and to chase the things you love. Sometimes there is sadness in our journey, but there is also lots of beauty. We must keep putting one foot in front of the other even when we hurt, for we will never know what is waiting fir us just around the bend.’ This New Year holds a lot of promise. There will - no doubt - be challenges, too. But nothing so outweighs the power of God which is made manifest in His love for us - the love which comes to us in the form of a baby. As you go through the year, in whatever circumstances that you may find yourself, always remember the importance of your first question. That question will determine your response - whether you will master the situation through the power of the cross, or whether the situation will master you. More to the point, your first question may even lead you to re-frame your narrative, for each circumstance affords you the privilege to bring blessings and joy to friends, family and all those around you, and to make a difference in the lives of as many people as possible. This New Year will be a great year, and one that holds many questions. But what would your first question be? I’d like to conclude with a poem by Frances Ridley Havergal: Another Year Is Dawning Another year is dawning! Dear Father, let it be, In working or in waiting, Another year with Thee. Another year of leaning upon thy loving breast, Another year of trusting, Of quiet, happy rest. Another year of mercies, of faithfulness and grace; Another year of gladness In the shining of Thy face. Another year of progress, another year of praise; Another year of proving thy presence all the days. Another year of service, of witness for Thy love; Another year of training for holier work above. Another year is dawning, dear Father, let it be, On earth, or else in heaven, another year for Thee. May your first question lead you to a different you... one that embraces service, faith, and is generous in giving. I wish you a Happy and Prosperous New Year. ~Manny