What Gives Us Hope

“Only in the darkness can you see the stars.”– Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Twilight lingers for hours in this second week of July. God’s paintbrush softly tints our western Colorado sunsets in wispy peaches and pinks, while purple thunderheads rise in the distance.  Colors fade slowly in the translucent sky. Hours seem to pass before the pale turquoise light gives way to nightfall, leaving stars to find their shimmer long after we’ve gone to bed.

Kevin and I have been watching these evenings unfold while camping in the San Juan Mountains. I’m always a little afraid of full-on nightfall because of the bears. Yep, they’re out there. I have an internal tug-of-war over wanting to watch the stars come out and knowing Yogi lurks in the shadows. I’ve had a bear sneak up on me before, and it’s not an experience I want to repeat.

But one of the perks of living in the Rockies is to watch the firmament of Heaven reveal itself after the fading of day. The Milky Way spills diamonds across our night sky. Shooting stars split the darkness. No man-made show rivals the glory of the Universe unveiled when the sun goes down. It’s worth staying up for. It’s even worth braving the bears.

The Dying of the Light

The process of living my last three years as an Evangelical Christian was like watching the light fade away. Because of Trump and the Religious Right’s political movement, I knew the end was coming. There was so much about that life that I loved, and it broke my heart to say goodbye.

But as Edmund Burke so famously observed, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” We could no longer support an organization that stands behind our current president. As spring turned to summer, we said goodbye to the life in which we had given our all. Years of worship and potlucks and prayer chains and teaching Sunday School and serving on committees and annual clean-up days and friendships and Bible Studies and small groups are now just cherished memories.

Also, I’ve been  afraid of the dark. It’s only been two years since we moved three hundred miles from our community. As long as we were part of a church here, I knew we would have people in our corner. Leaving church meant we would be alone. Just us and the bears.

But the day came when we both knew it was time. We cleanly cut the cord with no idea of what would come next. Surprisingly, I feel better.  I’m sad, but no longer angry. We just don’t believe the same things. And shockingly, I’m not scared. It may appear it’s just us and the bears in the dark, but I’m coming to find out there is light in the darkness I knew nothing about. And that’s where hope comes in.

Being firmly ensconced in church, I never looked beyond the sanctuary doors to discover other ways Christianity is being lived out. Sure, I knew there were other denominations, and that’s always a possibility going forward. But thanks to people much younger than myself, I’m learning there’s a whole world of Jesus-lovers doing their best to live out our Savior’s commands completely detached from the Religious Right’s political juggernaut. And they are rockin’ it.

I am finding hope in online communities like Evolving Faith and Red Letter Christians. I always find hope, and explanations for the difficulties of these times, in the Gospels. Young people are seeing the hypocrisy of speaking Jesus out one side of the mouth and espousing Trump from the other. My son and daughter-in-law have opened my eyes to a world of possibilities I never knew existed. These two dear ones are firmly based in the Word of God, and they have encouraged me to step into the world of today and take a look around.

And what I’m seeing is making me think.

No Longer Afraid of the Dark

I don’t agree with all the new ideas, just as I don’t disagree with everything the Old Order of Church believed.

I do agree with Jesus. I’m still on my year-long walk through the Gospels, studying with trusted commentaries on every step I take. Having our Savior’s teachings as the Gold Standard for belief, for behavior, and for love completely satisfies my deep need to know the Truth. And the Truth is setting me free once again.

Now the days are getting shorter, but I’m no longer afraid of the dark. Of course, the bears are still there. But I’m taking courage from knowing others are beating the bushes alongside me, searching for Jesus no matter what dangers lurk in the shadows. Communities exist in this brave new world, and I’ve been welcomed there. As a matter of fact, everyone is welcome there. And fewer daylight hours make it easier to watch the stars come out. The Milky Way spills diamonds across our night sky. Shooting stars split the darkness. No man-made show rivals the glory of the Universe unveiled when the sun goes down. It’s worth staying up for. It’s even worth braving the bears.

I want to watch the stars find their shimmer.

©2020 Rachel Ophoff, Coconut Mountain Communications LLC. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had so hoped this day would never come.

Thirty-five years ago, I bucked my family’s belief system and fell into Jesus’ arms. I found Him through a born-again Christian woman who spent years praying for me. It took her even longer to get me into a church; I just couldn’t imagine rubbing shoulders with all those “holy” people. At that point, we didn’t have a lot in common. But little by little, I learned their ways. I liked their music. I adored their Jesus. And they showed me a love I had never seen before: what it meant to be a part of the body of Christ.

So for most of my adult life I have been a born-again Christian, attending Evangelical Churches. Within their walls I found a family and community I could never have imagined beforehand. Within their belief system I learned how to study the Bible, so I could really get to know my Savior. Within their arms I found comfort and support through the ups and downs of life. Through their prayers I found the courage to have faith. Through our friendships I found the connection to humanity I always wanted.

I felt that, short of Heaven, I had found Home.

Yesterday, I said goodbye.

My heart was truly shattered when my daughter Catherine died suddenly,  but this pain isn’t like that. This is more of a prolonged agony. In some ways, leaving is a relief. When Trump was elected I was just plain flabbergasted. As time went on, I absolutely believed that Evangelical Christians, my own people, would see who he is and that his agenda runs contrary to the teachings of Jesus. I was woefully ignorant of the political juggernaut known as the Religious Right. Last September, I started reading up on the movement. What I found sickened me. They are not about Jesus. They are about power. And boy, did they get it in Trump.

Since this is a postmortem rather than an exposé, I’ll spare you the details. All that really matters about dealing with a great loss is recognizing its enormity, grappling with its implications, and accepting that life will never be the same. I really did go through all of Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’s stages of grief during these last few months:

Denial: You’ve got to be kidding me. They can’t see through this guy?

Anger: Who’s responsible for leading these people astray?

Bargaining: If I just point out the flaws in their logic, they will get it.

Depression: Oh, my God. We’re going lose our family. Our community. What’s going to happen to us? We’ll be all alone. They really believe this. They support Trump. This is not going to change.

Acceptance:

“Dear Leadership Team: Seeing the events taking place in the church over the last several years makes us so sad and disheartened that just entering a church brings us to the point of tears. After months of prayer, and with great sorrow and regret, we ask that you remove our names from your membership roll and cease communications. Thank you for the time we were able to spend with you, and we wish you all the best.”

And so yesterday, it was finally over. No one who knows us will be surprised, but there will still be some who are sorry to see us go.

I know there are other kinds of churches that aren’t part of the Religious Right political movement, some who even consider themselves Evangelical. I’m praying about where God would have us go next. The heavy weight of grief is still parked on my chest. But barely within earshot is a whisper of hope that there will be another family out there, somewhere.

Goodbye to this version of the Evangelical Church. May God open your eyes before it is too late.

©Rachel Ophoff, Coconut Mountain Communications LLC, 2020. All Rights Reserved.

*This article was reprinted online at Red Letter Christians. org

Jesus Christ Is The Same Yesterday and Today and Forever

-Hebrews 13:8

A few months into this pandemic, COVID-19 seems to be tragically dividing our country even further than the election of Donald Trump. This time, though, I understand both sides of the argument. Tens of millions of us have lost our jobs, or have been furloughed. Each state’s Department of Labor has been hit by a tidal wave of claims, hundreds of thousands beyond their normal workload. Consequently, many of us cannot access unemployment benefits because we simply cannot get through to them. Long lines of cars queue up for food. We do not know how long we can afford to live without work. On this, I think we can all agree.

If you are one of the people who thinks this is a hoax, you’ll want to stop reading here. Both my husband and I suffered through COVID-19 for six weeks. I’m writing from reality.

I will not give space to any arguments that insist on defying public health orders. Christians especially are instructed by Jesus to love their neighbors. That means respecting the rights of our fellow humans and obeying the laws that govern us all. Seeing a maskless shopper at the supermarket is no big deal to some of us, but it strikes terror into the heart of my immuno-compromised next-door neighbor.

Sadly, the divide in our country is widening. I didn’t think it was possible. Trump’s followers are splintering off into an increasing number of antisocial sects: the QAnons, the white supremacists, the boogaloos. No, I’m not making this up. And no, I haven’t researched all of them- these are just the groups that have broken into mainstream news. In the midst of a worldwide pandemic, the only person who even has a shot at bringing our country together is fostering revolt against the very authorities who are trying to keep us safe.

Two months into this sequestration, I believe the question I’ve been asking since the inception of this site has been amped up considerably. Now more than ever, we should be asking ourselves:

What’s a Christian to do?

Though some of the major crazies have defied orders and continued to attend in-person church services, most of us haven’t seen the inside of our local sanctuary since March. Many pastoral staffs, including our own, have worked to post sermons online and send weekly email updates to their congregations. Prayer chains are still in force and active. Members call, email, and Zoom each other. Some volunteer with food banks, crisis intervention, and community outreach programs. The church, as it was, seems to be alive and well.

Personally, I’ve used this quiet interlude to reflect on what this particular Christian is supposed to do. I’ve come up with more questions than answers.

My biggest problem, and it seems insurmountable, is that so many of these revolting fringe groups are part of the Religious Right.

I would be horrified to discover that any of them attend my church, but statistically speaking, it’s possible. There’s no way of telling who we really are behind our Sunday personas.

For all the angst I’ve suffered over the Religious Right’s support of Trump as president, the church is still home to my heart. I will never knowingly support any organization that believes Trump’s policies line up with Jesus’ teachings, but there is just no substitute for a church family. For months now I’ve wrestled with whether or not I am right to even rub shoulders with an  organization that’s gone so far astray; but I also wonder: Who will be my family if I walk away?

Lastly, the most confounding aspect to the COVID-19 crisis is that NO ONE knows what’s going to happen, except God. No one.

No one knows when we will actually develop and receive a vaccine. No one knows if it will work. No one knows when kids will be able to go back to school. No one knows if or when the economy will recover. No one knows if churches will simply be a breeding ground to spread the contagion.

It’s like knowing when Jesus Christ will return. We’d all like to know, but the Father isn’t sharing the information.

So with that in mind: how then shall we live?

I’ve had some time to think this over. I can’t go wrong with keeping my eyes fixed on Jesus, praying that God will supernaturally remove Trump from office, and refusing to surrender my serenity to his insanity. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I’m still on this year’s journey through the Gospels, getting to know Him a little better every day.

Also, YouTube  has been running a television series called, “The Chosen.” This 2017 episodic drama is based on the life of Jesus Christ, and created, directed and co-written by American filmmaker Dallas Jenkins. It’s an absolute delight to watch, except that it feeds my yearning to see our Lord sooner than later. There are only a few episodes so far, but they are like cool water on parched ground.

A local non-profit organization lets me write for them, and I get to spend time with some awesome teenagers who raise funds and supply the food banks in town. Now that’s something Jesus would endorse.

I keep in touch with friends, both Christian and otherwise. And I pray. A lot.

And I’m trusting God. Someday, whether here or in Heaven, everything is going to be okay. Better than okay. And I look forward to that like most people look forward to vacation.

While I know that nothing happens apart from the perfect and/or permissive will of God, let me just say that I do not think we needed this pandemic. The USA was already in deep weeds. But we know that God “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”¹ This disease is probably not a judgment on any particular people group or political party. It’s an equal opportunity horror.

In the meantime, we can each ask God how He would have us be His hands and feet in the midst of this crisis. We can respect our neighbor’s concerns and obey the laws that govern us all. We can pray. A lot. And we can cling to the promise that this life is not all there is. For those of us who worship at the feet of our Lord, someday we will have no more pain or suffering, disease or heartache. He who intercedes for us even now (Romans 8:34) will be waiting. And He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Hallelujah! What a Savior.

©2020 Rachel Ophoff, Coconut Mountain Communications LLC. All Rights Reserved.

_{1  Matthew 5:45}

Joseph of Arimathea Buries Jesus

Matthew 27:57-60 New International Version (NIV)

⁵⁷ As evening approached, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. ⁵⁸ Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus’ body, and Pilate ordered that it be given to him. ⁵⁹ Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, ⁶⁰ and placed it in his own new tomb^(B) that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away.

This year marked my first real observation and participation in the season of Lent. Having been born again at the age of thirty into the Evangelical Christian Church, I never quite understood the tradition. It seemed to begin with dirt on one’s forehead, a giant party in New Orleans, and giving up sugar or booze for six weeks. The Evangelicals I met never seemed to put much stock in it, so neither did I.

This year was different. For the first time since I met Jesus in 1986, I no longer put much stock in the Evangelical Church. I spent the first two years of Trump’s presidency convinced they would realize his policies bore no resemblance to Jesus’ teachings. The Religious Right political juggernaut is like a runaway train, commandeered by leaders in a quest for power. Like a movie where the bad guys toss the hapless sidekick off the caboose, I landed alone in the bushes, miles from anywhere. I finally picked myself up, dusted myself off, and went in search of another life.

Love For Lent

Through Red Letter Christians, I found a forty-day series of Lenten devotions by Pastor Tim Otto of The Church of the Sojourners.  “Love for Lent” walked me through the Sermon on the Mount,  coincidentally overlapping my own in-depth journey through Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Professor William Barclay (1907-1978) and I had already covered the earlier chapters in his series The New Daily Study Bible. Armed with Barclay’s excellent historical reference guide and Pastor Tim’s perspective on this sacred season, I came into the home stretch of my Lenten journey, studying what surely must have seemed like The Worst Day Ever.

Dark Saturday. That’s what Pastor Tim’s devotion for this day is titled, sandwiched between Good Friday and Easter. In these last messages, he led us through Holy Week as recounted through the eyes of Matthew, the tax collector. Dark Saturday’s devotion illuminated the last event of The Worst Day Ever. Professor Barclay offered this observation on Joseph of Arimathea:

“Now none of Jesus’ relatives was in a position to claim his body, for they were all Galileans and none of them possessed a tomb in Jerusalem (according to Jewish law, even a criminal’s body might not be left hanging all night, but had to be buried that day). So the wealthy Joseph of Arimathea stepped in. He went to Pilate and asked that the body of Jesus should be given to him; and he cared for it, and put it in a rock tomb where no one had ever been laid…It is certainly true that in the end Joseph displayed the greatest courage. He came out on the side of a crucified criminal; he braved the possible resentment of Pilate; and he faced the certain hatred of the Jewish authorities.”¹

There are several possibilities regarding Joseph, but it is known that he was a member of the Sanhedrin, and Luke tells us that “he had not agreed to their plan and action” (Luke 23:51). It’s quite possible that Caiaphas left him out of the murderous plot. His church, of which he was a ruling judge, elder, and rabbi, set the tragedy in motion. Joseph stood alone, loving his Savior and King.

As I mediated this morning on Joseph’s actions, I tried to put myself in his place. Jesus’ body had been absolutely torn to pieces. The thorn of crowns shoved down upon his brow no doubt tore holes in his face. He was beaten beyond recognition. The lash, studded with sharpened bone and bits of rock, shredded the flesh on his back. Tufts of his beard had been ripped out. Spikes had been driven through his wrists and feet, and a spear had been thrust into his side. Only on television do most of us ever see such a stomach-turning sight. To lift the lifeless, broken body of our best friend, our Lord and Savior, and have his blood stain our clothes while we prepare his body for burial- we cannot even imagine.

Did Joseph sob as he wrapped the shroud? Did he gag from the stench? Did he ever get that sight out of his mind? Did he throw his clothes away? What happened when he closed his eyes? Did he eventually recover from his worst day ever?

There’s no Biblical record of whether Joseph of Arimathea ever saw our resurrected Savior here on this earthly plane. But considering that he was a follower of our Lord, they’ve undoubtedly met in glory. That horrific memory is now a sacred scene shared by Joseph and Jesus, forever celebrated as a beautiful act of love. The agony was part and parcel of the greatest miracle the world has ever known- the empty tomb, sunlight scattering the darkness when the stone was rolled away.

Challenging the Status Quo

I’d love to ask Joseph what happened after Resurrection Day. Did he ever go back and take his place among those who murdered Jesus? If not, how did he build a new life outside the walls of the church? What did he do with the time he had left? What would he say to encourage those of us who challenge the status quo?

The events of Holy Week, specifically Good Friday, Dark Saturday, and Resurrection Sunday, should challenge all Christ-followers to examine our overriding, unbridled passion for loving Jesus. How are we living out His commands here on Earth?

After months of prayer seeking direction, I am volunteering with a nonreligious, nonpolitical non-profit organization that lends aid to traumatized refugees on our southern border. Trump’s policies have violated many of Jesus’ commands, but I believe the ones that break my heart the most are Biblical mandates and instructions regarding care for aliens, strangers, and refugees. Talk is cheap, but time is valuable. Being the squeamish sort, I would never have survived Joseph’s task of burying Jesus. Thankfully I’ve been welcomed to assist an organization that provides the comfort He would have provided. The truth shines brightly even without the label.

On the night before he was crucified, Jesus offered this mixed blessing to his disciples, as well as those of us who follow in their footsteps: “In this world you will have trouble…” This side of Heaven, we will always have evil to contend with. But then comes the promise we can cling to without reservation:

“..but take heart! I have overcome the world.”- John 16:33 NIV

So take heart, my friends. Stand up for what is right. Pray hard. Don’t give up. Heaven’s coming! Happy Easter.

©Rachel Ophoff, Coconut Mountain Communications LLC 2020. All Rights Reserved.

1 The Daily Study Bible, The Gospel of Matthew Volume Two, William Barclay. WJK Westminster John Knox Press. ©The William Barclay Estate, 1975, 2001.

The New Normal Strikes Again

Last month, my husband and I observed the twentieth anniversary of our daughter Catherine’s death. Losing her changed us forever. She died in an accident while on a church outing with her youth group. Although the searing pain subsided some time ago, this kind of loss is not something you “get over.” You change. You live differently. And you learn. Boy, do you learn.

One of the concepts that just fried my bacon at the time, and honestly still does, is what people call “the new normal.” I didn’t want a new normal. I wanted Catherine back. I wanted to have to cook special foods to compensate for her allergies. Instead, I stood mutely in the supermarket, absolutely incapable of making a menu for the just the three of us without substituting buffalo for beef and rice for potatoes. I wanted to drive her to band practice and argue about her messy room and laugh with her over dumb jokes.

I guess I finally got used to the new normal. Twenty years later my heart still hurts over how much I miss her, but I am different because she died. Surviving tragedy gave me clarity on how to discern what’s important and what’s not.  And that’s not a bad thing.

At The Intersection of New and Normal

In recent days, I’ve found myself loitering at the crossroads of New and Normal once again.

I spent the month of January coughing my lungs out with no voice, no sleep, and no energy. I wrote nothing. What I did do was listen. I read, I prayed, and God spoke. Here’s what I heard Him say:

He is the only Person who never changes. Since all other sentient beings change, so do all relationships. Usually I grieve these changes. The more important they were to me, the deeper the sorrow. My relationship to the Christian community was of paramount importance to me. I’ve been so blessed to have experienced deep emotional and spiritual ties, but let’s face it: nothing stays the same. Before the election of Trump, I was blissfully unaware of the rise of the Religious Right as a political power. The last three years have been a heartache of discovery, but facing the truth is helping me determine what I want the rest of my life to look like.

Fortunately, the second thing I heard God say is that I am not alone. Kevin gave me Shane Claiborne’s book The Irresistible Revolution, and it blew my mind. There is a whole world of Christians who believe as I do, and who are illuminating Jesus simply by how and where they show up to serve and support.  I am learning so much about constructive protest. At this point I don’t know how that will figure into my mission between here and senility, but I trust God will reveal this along with the logistics for action.

Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby

Speaking of revelation, the third thing I heard God say was, “wait.” As I’ve mentioned before, I’m rereading Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby. One of the seven realities of Experiencing God says “God Takes the Initiative.” All through Scripture, when the Lord had something He wanted to accomplish, it was He who approached humanity. His servants, a motley crew to say the least, had a few things in common, but primarily this: they were willing. They loved God to the best of their abilities, they listened, and they were willing. None of them approached the Creator and said, “hey God, I have this great idea! What if we…?”

No. Most of them were just minding their own business when they saw a burning bush, or God showed up with blueprints for a boat, or angels walked into their camp, or an itinerant carpenter called them to fish for men. So for the moment, I am content to do what I feel He has called me to do thus far, and that is to keep writing.

The new normal is usually sad, at least for a time. It always involves loss. This is no surprise, given what Jesus had to say in John 16:33: “In this life, you will have trouble.” But there is so much hope in what He said next: “But take heart! I have overcome the world.” And talk about living differently! As one of my editors used to say, “Now yer talkin’!”

Is There Hope for Living Differently?

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I am so looking forward to Heaven. Were it not for the assurance that everything will be okay in the end, I simply couldn’t go on. Sometimes I use it as a crutch. I give up when I need to persevere. It would be so easy to do that now. I can’t toe the company line on the Religious Right’s agenda, and being the voice of reason (Remember Jesus!) seems to fall on deaf ears. I don’t want to hurt my friends’ feelings. To take my marbles and just go home is tempting. But I know it’s not the path laid out for me.

So for now, I will continue to read and learn and speak up, and in the meantime, pray for a New Normal. One where I can serve and socialize with like-minded believers. Sure, we might hoist a protest sign or two, but I’m hoping for a more productive venture that gives the world a glimpse of Jesus. When we really see Him, the glaring contradictions with Trump’s policies are obvious and will require no clarification.

And when the time is right; when everything here is said and done in my brief stay on Earth: Heaven is coming!

When I get home, Catherine will be right there! And thanks to the answers God gives us in His Word, I know that she will still be Catherine, only made perfect. She still gets to be her same self, but wrapped in the love and light of Jesus. I can’t wait. And as for all this political nonsense- the real Jesus will be revealed, much to the guaranteed astonishment of us all. And the New Normal, the Glorious Normal,  will be very, very good indeed.

©2020 Rachel Ophoff, Coconut Mountain Communications LLC. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Christmas Miracles and True Heroes

A few weeks ago I wrote  What Do Heroes Look Like? I’m happy to report that many courageous of heart are coming out of the woodwork. Pastors, evangelists, writers and publishers are asking the same questions the rest of us are- but they lend their credentials to the cause.

Truth be told, anyone who knows Jesus and has read the Gospels can recognize that the actions and policies of Donald Trump bear little, if any, resemblance to the teachings and actions of Jesus Christ. But when those of us outside the Evangelical Establishment lob our questions into the holy huddle,  we simply watch them bounce off the halos of those in the know. We are labeled ignorant, liberal, anti-American, non-patriotic, and just downright wrong. There may even be more sinister insinuations, depending upon how often we pester them and how much noise we make.

Powerful Evangelicals Can Bridge the Gap

Many Evangelicals have simply walked away from the church. We came to see Jesus, to hear about Jesus, and to learn how Jesus followers are supposed to live. Most normal folks have no time, money, tools, or armament to protest. It breaks our hearts to leave our spiritual families, but we are absolutely unwilling to participate in any ministry that supports Donald Trump.

What a tragedy.

But more and more Jesus-lovers are taking the risk, and I am ecstatic.

WE ARE NOT ALONE!

Christianity Today Magazine Joins the Fight!

I’ve already introduced  Red Letter Christians and the Reclaiming Jesus Movement. I am thrilled to report that now we have the support of Christianity Today Magazine.

A few days ago, Mark Galli, the Editor-in-Chief of Christianity Today, braved the inevitable firestorm of hatred when he was courageous enough to shine a light on the elephant in the room- the utter contemptibility of Donald Trump. Trump devotees insisted that a retraction was sure to follow.

Au contraire, my friends.

Today Timothy Dalrymple, President of Christianity Today, expounded on why CT is taking the stance against the shameful actions of our commander-in-chief. Here is his own editorial, in its entirety:

The Flag in the Whirlwind

I am thanking God today for the courage of everyone who stands up and challenges the Religious Right for their mind-boggling support of Donald. But I especially thank those with skin in the game- the pastors, evangelists, writers, publishers, and other Christian public figures who are willing to risk the loss of revenue, friends, respect, and maybe more. May God bless you and keep you. And may God deliver us from the crazy man in the White House. Amen, and Merry Christmas indeed!

©Rachel Ophoff, Coconut Mountain Communications LLC, 2019. All Rights Reserved.