About 'bethel bible college'|Bible School For Prophets

About 'bethel bible college'|Bible School For Prophets

Ｉｎｔｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ               "Ｔｈｅ               Ｔｗｉｌｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               Ａｃｔｏｒ"               ｅｘｉｓｔｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ａｓ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               "Ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               Ｓｈｏｒｔ               Ｓｐａｃｅ               ｏｆ               Ｔｉｍｅ",               ａｎｄ               ａｓ               ｓｕｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｐｕｂｌｉｓｈｅｄ               ａｔ               Ｂｌｏｇｓｔｅｒ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               19ｔｈ               ｏｆ               Ｆｅｂｒｕａｒｙ               2006. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｖｅｒｓｉｆｉｅｄ               ｐｉｅｃｅ               ｗａｓ               ｂａｓｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｅｘｔｒａｃｔｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ａｎ               ｕｎｆｉｎｉｓｈｅｄ               ａｕｔｏｂｉｏｇｒａｐｈｉｃａｌ               ｓｔｏｒｙ,               ｐｅｎｎｅｄ               Ｉ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｉｎ               ｅａｒｌｙ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ               1999               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｃａｄｅ,               ｃｅｎｔｕｒｙ               ａｎｄ               ｍｉｌｌｅｎｉｕｍ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ａｎ               ｕｎｑｕｉｅｔ               ｃｌｏｓｅ. Ｉｎ               ｔｉｍｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｔｌｅ               ｐｉｅｃｅ,               "Ｔｈｅ               Ｔｗｉｌｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               Ａｃｔｏｒ"               ｗａｓ               ａｄｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｂａｓｉｃ               ｓｔｒｕｃｔｕｒｅ               ａｓ               ｗｅｒｅ,               ｍｏｒｅ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔｌｙ,               "Ｆｉｒｅｗｏｒｋｓ               Ｆｒａｎｔｉｃａｌｌｙ               Ｅｘｐｌｏｄｉｎｇ"               ａｎｄ               "Ｄｉｓｐｅｒｓａｌｓ               ａｎｄ               Ｅｎｄｉｎｇｓ",               ｂｏｔｈ               ｏｒｉｇｉｎａｌｌｙ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               "Ａ               Ｆｉｎａｌ               Ｄｉｓｔａｎｔ               Ｃｌａｒｉｏｎ               Ｃｒｙ"               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｓ. Ｆｉｎａｌ               ｅｄｉｔｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｂｏｔｈ               ｐｉｅｃｅｓ               ｗａｓ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｅｄ               ｉｎ               Ｎｏｖｅｍｂｅｒ               2008.                Ｔｈｅ               Ｔｗｉｌｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               Ａｃｔｏｒ                Ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｊｉｍ               Ｃａｒｔｗｒｉｇｈｔ'ｓ               ｂｉｔｔｅｒ-ｓｗｅｅｔ               ｔｗｏ-ｈａｎｄｅｒ               "Ｔｗｏ",               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｔｏｕｃｈｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｉｎ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｄｅｔａｉｌ               ｉｎ               "Ｔｈｅ               Ｔｒｉａｌｓ               ｏｆ               ａ               Ｔｅｅｔｏｔａｌｌｅｒ",               Ｉ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｏｎｅ               ｌａｓｔ               ｐｌａｙ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｒｏｓｅ               ａｎｄ               Ｃｒｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ-ｄｒｉｖｅｎ               ｃｏｍｅｄｙ               "Ｌｏｖｅｌｉｖｅｓ". Ｗｒｉｔｔｅｎ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｓｔ,               ｔｈｉｓ               ｅｎｓｅｍｂｌｅ               ｐｉｅｃｅ               ｃｏｎｓｉｓｔｅｄ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｓｋｅｔｃｈｅｓ               ｃｅｎｔｒｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｓｐｅｒａｔｅ               ａｎｔｉｃｓ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｇｒｏｕｐ               ｏｆ               ｓｉｎｇｌｅｔｏｎｓ               ａｔｔｅｎｄｉｎｇ               ａ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂａｎ               ｌｏｎｅｌｙ               ｈｅａｒｔｓ               ｃｌｕｂ. Ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｉｔ               ｃｈｉｍｅｄ               ｐｅｒｆｅｃｔｌｙ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｉｒｉｔ               ｏｆ               Ｂｒｉｔｉｓｈ               ｐｏｓｔ-ｗａｒ               ｃｏｍｅｄｙ               ａｎｄ               ｉｔｓ               ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｉｓｔｉｃ               ｃｅｌｅｂｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｂａｎａｌｉｔｙ               ａｎｄ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｆａｉｌｕｒｅ. Ａ               ｇｒｅａｔ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｒ&Ｃ,               ｉｔ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｏｐｉｎｉｏｎ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｄｅｖｅｌｏｐｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ａ               ｔｅｌｅｖｉｓｉｏｎ               ｐｌａｙ               ｏｒ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｓａｄｌｙ,               ａｓ               ｉｓ               ａｌｌ               ｔｏｏ               ｏｆｔｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｓｅ,               ａ               ｂｒｉｌｌｉａｎｔ               ｃａｓｔ               ｄｉｓｐｅｒｓｅｄ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｓｈｏｗ.                Ｔｈｅｎ               ｌａｔｅｒ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｙｅａｒ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｔｒｉｓｔａｎ               Ｂａｔｅｓ               ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ               ｎｅａｒ               Ｌｅｉｃｅｓｔｅｒ               Ｓｑｕａｒｅ,               Ｉ               ｐｌａｙｅｄ               ｔｗｏ               ｓｍａｌｌ               ｒｏｌｅｓ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               Ｅｕｒｉｐｉｄｅｓ'               "Ｉｐｈｉｇｅｎｅｉａ               ｉｎ               Ｔａｕｒｏｉｓ",               ｄｉｒｅｃｔｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｔｒａｎｓｌａｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｍｙ               ｌｏｎｇｔｉｍｅ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄ               Ａｄｒｉａｎ. Ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               Ｐｙｌａｄｅｓ,               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｈａｎｄ               ｍａｎ               ｏｆ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｉｎ               ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ,               Ｏｒｅｓｔｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｍｅｓｓｅｎｇｅｒ,               ａ               ｍａｎｉａｃａｌ               ｂｕｆｆｏｏｎ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｉｎｔｅｒｐｒｅｔｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｒｅｆｉｎｅｄ               ｃｏｃｋｎｅｙ               ａｃｃｅｎｔ               ｏｎｃｅ               ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄｌｙ               ｆａｖｏｕｒｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｐｏｌｉｃｅｍｅｎ               ａｎｄ               ｒｅｇｉｍｅｎｔａｌ               ｓｅｒｇｅａｎｔ               ｍａｊｏｒｓ.                Ｆｒｏｍ               Ｊａｎｕａｒｙ               1996               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ,               Ｉ               ｓｅｒｖｅｄ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓｌｙ               ａｓ               ａｃｔｏｒ,               ＭＣ,               ｓｃｒｉｐｔ               ｗｒｉｔｅｒ,               ｓｉｎｇｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｍｕｓｉｃｉａｎ               ｆｏｒ               Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               Ｌｅｖｅｌ,               ａ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｂａｓｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｅｌｉｍ               Ｐｅｎｔｅｃｏｓｔａｌ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｉｎ               Ｗｅｓｔ               Ｃｒｏｙｄｏｎ,               Ｓｕｒｒｅｙ. Ａ               ｇｒｏｕｐ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｃｏｎｓｉｓｔｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｗｏ               ｌｏｃａｌｓ               ｇｉｒｌｓ,               19               ｙｅａｒ               ｏｌｄ               Ｅｓｔｈｅｒ,               ａｎｄ               ｍａｒｒｉｅｄ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｌｅａｄｅｒ               Ｓａｌｌｙ,               ｗｅ               ｔｏｕｒｅｄ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｓｈｏｗｓ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｓｃｈｏｏｌｓ               ｉｎ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓ               ｔｏｕｇｈ               ｍｕｌｔｉｃｕｌｔｕｒａｌ               ｓｏｕｔｈ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ               ａｒｅａｓ               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｉｎｇ               Ｃｒｏｙｄｏｎ               ｉｔｓｅｌｆ,               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ               ａｓ               Ｔｈｏｒｎｔｏｎ               Ｈｅａｔｈ,               Ｎｏｒｗｏｏｄ,               Ｃｒｙｓｔａｌ               Ｐａｌａｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               ｏｎ. Ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｓｅ,               "Ｃｈｏｉｃｅｓ",               ｗａｓ               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅｌｙ               ｗｒｉｔｔｅｎ               ｂｙ               ｍｅ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｉｔ'ｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｂａｓｅｄ               ｏｎ               ａｎ               ｉｄｅａ               ｂｙ               Ｓａｌｌｙ               ｗｈｏ               ａｌｓｏ               ｈｅａｖｉｌｙ               ｅｄｉｔｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍａｎｃｅ               ｐｕｒｐｏｓｅｓ. Ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｈｏｌｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｄｓ,               ｍｏｓｔ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｒｅｌａｔｉｖｅｌｙ               ｄｅｐｒｉｖｅｄ               ｂａｃｋｇｒｏｕｎｄｓ,               ｗｅｒｅ               ｉｎｃｒｅｄｉｂｌｙ               ｒｅｃｅｐｔｉｖｅ               ｔｏ               ｏｕｒ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｏｎｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｇｒｅｅｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｕｎｉｆｏｒｍ               ｅｎｔｈｕｓｉａｓｍ               ａｎｄ               ａｆｆｅｃｔｉｏｎ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｓｕｒｐｒｉｓｅ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｄｅｌｉｇｈｔ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ               ａｔ               ｌｅａｓｔ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               Ｅｓｔｈｅｒ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｍｅ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｏｕｒ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｓｈｏｗ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｔｅｎｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｅａｓｙ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｌａｔｅ               ｔｏ. Ｗｈｅｔｈｅｒ               ｓｈｅ               ｍｅａｎｔ               ｔｏｗａｒｄｓ               ｖｉｓｉｔｏｒｓ               Ｉ'ｍ               ｎｏｔ               ｓｕｒｅ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｉｍａｇｉｎｅ               ｓｈｅ               ｄｉｄ.                Ｔｏｗａｒｄｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ,               Ｓａｌｌｙ               ａｓｋｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｗｒｉｔｅ               ａ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｓｃａｌｅ               ｐｒｏｊｅｃｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｒｏｕｐ. Ｓｈｅ               ｓｕｇｇｅｓｔｅｄ               ａ               ｃｏｎｔｅｍｐｏｒａｒｙ               ｖｅｒｓｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               Ｊｏｈｎ               Ｂｕｎｙａｎ'ｓ               ｃｌａｓｓｉｃ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ａｌｌｅｇｏｒｙ               "Ｔｈｅ               Ｐｉｌｇｉｍ'ｓ               Ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓ". Ｏｎｃｅ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｍｙ               ｅｎｔｈｕｓｉａｓｍ               ｆｏｒ               Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               Ｌｅｖｅｌ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｇｕｎ               ｔｏ               ｗａｎｅ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｈａｄ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｄｏ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｉｔｓｅｌｆ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｂｒｉｅｆ               ｍｏｎｔｈｓ               ｉｎ               1996               ｗａｓ               ｍａｒｋｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｆｒａｎｔｉｃ               ｃｒｅａｔｉｖｉｔｙ               ｌｅａｄｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｓｈｏｗｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｒａｄｉｃａｌ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｍｅｓｓａｇｅ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｇｒｅａｔ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅｎｅｆｉｔ               ｏｆ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｐｉｔａｌ'ｓ               ｌｅａｓｔ               ｐｒｉｖｉｌｅｇｅｄ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ. Ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｉｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｓｔｌｙ               ｅａｒｌｙ               ｍｏｒｎｉｎｇ               ｔｒａｉｎ               ｊｏｕｒｎｅｙｓ               ｔｏ               Ｃｒｏｙｄｏｎ               ｖｉａ               Ｗｉｍｂｌｅｄｏｎ               ｏｒ               Ｃｌａｐｈａｍ               Ｊｕｎｃｔｉｏｎ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｓｔａｒｔｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｅｘｈａｕｓｔ               ｍｅ. Ｉｎ               ｃｏｎｓｅｑｕｅｎｃｅ               Ｉ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎｌｙ               ｑｕｉｔ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓｎ'ｔ               ａ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｋｉｎｄ               ｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｄｏ               ｔｏ               Ｓａｌｌｙ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               Ｉ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｓｈｅ'ｄ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               ｍｅ               ａｓ               ｈｅｒ               ｒｏｃｋ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｅ'ｄ               ａ               ｌｏｔ               ｏｆ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｉｂｉｌｉｔｙ               ｏｎ               ｈｅｒ               ｐｌａｔｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｒｅｇａｒｄ               ｔｏ               ｆｏｒｔｈｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍａｎｃｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒａｉｎｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｆｒｅｓｈ               ｃｒｅｗ               ｏｆ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ａｃｔｏｒｓ. Ｍｙ               ｄｅｃｉｓｉｏｎ               ｗａｓ               ｅｓｐｅｃｉａｌｌｙ               ｍｅａｎ               ｇｉｖｅｎ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｅｓｔｈｅｒ               ｈａｄ               ｈｅｒｓｅｌｆ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｗｅｅｋｓ               ｅａｒｌｉｅｒ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｎｓｉｄｅｒ               ｍｙ               ｆｉｎａｎｃｅｓ. Ｗｈａｔ'ｓ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｍｙ               ｓｐｉｒｉｔｕａｌ               ｈｅａｌｔｈ               ｗａｓ               ｐｏｏｒ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｗｅｅｋｓ               ｏｆ               ｌａｂｏｕｒｉｎｇ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｗｈａｔ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ａｎ               ｕｎｗｉｅｌｄｙ               ａｎｄ               ｏｆｔｅｎ               ｖｉｏｌｅｎｔ               ｅｐｉｃ               ｍａｒｋｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｓｃｅｎｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｌａｃｋｅｓｔ               ｈｕｍｏｕｒ. Ａｓ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｅｄ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ'ｍ               ｎｏｔ               ｓｕｒｐｒｉｓｅｄ,               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ａｒｔｉｓｔｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｉｔｓ               ｍｅｒｉｔｓ,               ｓｐｉｒｉｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｇｒｏｓｓｌｙ               ｉｍｍａｔｕｒｅ. Ｉｎ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｔｅｒｍｓ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｏｎｌｙ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｏｌｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｓｈｏｗｅｄ. Ｉｎ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ               ｄｅｓｔｒｏｙｅｄ               ａｌｌ               ｂｕｔ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｐａｇｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｉｔ.                Ｂｙ               ｅａｒｌｙ               1997               Ｉ'ｄ               ｖａｎｉｓｈｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｎｃｔｕａｒｙ               ｏｆ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ               ｌｉｆｅ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｅｄ               ａ               ｈａｐｐｙ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏｃｉａｌｌｙ               ｌｉｖｅｌｙ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ               ａｓ               ａ               ｐａｎｅｌ               ｒｅｃｒｕｉｔｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               Ｓｕｒｒｅｙ'ｓ               Ｔｏｐｆｌｉｇｈｔ               Ｒｅｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｃａｍｅ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｒｅｈｅａｒｓｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               Ｓｈａｋｅｓｐｅａｒｅ'ｓ               ｉｎｆａｍｏｕｓ               Ｓｃｏｔｔｉｓｈ               Ｐｌａｙ               ａｔ               Ｆｕｌｈａｍ'ｓ               Ｌｏｓｔ               Ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｒｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               1998. Ｄｅｓｐｉｔｅ               ｍｙ               ｃａｍｅｏｓ               ａｓ               Ｌｅｎｎｏｘ,               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｏｃｔｏｒ,               ａｎｄ               ａｎ               Ｏｌｄ               Ｍａｎ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｐｒａｉｓｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｃａｓｔ               ａｎｄ               ａｕｄｉｅｎｃｅ               ｍｅｍｂｅｒｓ               ａｌｉｋｅ,               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｎｏｔ               ａｃｔｅｄ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｔｈａｎ               ａ               ｈａｎｄｆｕｌ               ｏｆ               ａｕｄｉｔｉｏｎｓ. Ａｓ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｓｔａｎｄ,               ｗｈｉｌｅ               Ｉ'ｍ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｏｐｅｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｉｌｉｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｆｉｌｍ               ｏｒ               ｔｅｌｅｖｉｓｉｏｎ               ｗｏｒｋ,               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｋｅｌｉｈｏｏｄ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｅｖｅｒ               ａｐｐｅａｒｉｎｇ               ｏｎｓｔａｇｅ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｐｌａｙ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｉｓ               ｖｉｒｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｎｏｎｅｘｉｓｔｅｎｔ. Ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｓｉｍｐｌｙ               ｐｕｔ,               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｓｓｉｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍ               ｉｎ               ｆｒｏｎｔ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｌｉｖｅ               ａｕｄｉｅｎｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｒａｇｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈｉｎ               ｍｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｔｗｏ               ｄｅｃａｄｅｓ               ｈａｓ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｑｕｉｅｔｅｄ.                Ｓｏｍｅ               ｍｏｎｔｈｓ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｍｙ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍａｎｃｅ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｏｓｔ               Ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ               Ｉ               ｗｒｏｔｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｓｅ               ｐｉｅｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｅｖｅｎｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｍｕｔａｔｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               "Ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               Ｓｈｏｒｔ               Ｓｐａｃｅ               ｏｆ               Ｔｉｍｅ". Ｍｙ               ｐａｒｅｎｔｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｏｎ               ｖａｃａｔｉｏｎ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｗｅｅｋｓ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ               ｏｆ               ｉｔｓ               ｃｒｅａｔｉｏｎ,               ａ               ｇｌｏｒｉｏｕｓ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｒｅｃａｌｌ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｌｌｅｎｉｕｍ. Ｔｈｅｒｅｆｏｒｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｏｆｔｅｎ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｉｎ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｓｐｅｎｔ               ｍｙ               ａｄｏｌｅｓｃｅｎｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｍａｎｈｏｏｄ,               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍｉｎｇ               ａ               ｖａｒｉｅｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｔａｓｋｓ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａｓ               ｗａｔｅｒｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ'ｓ               ｆｌｏｗｅｒｓ,               ｏｒ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｓｉｍｐｌｙ               ｓｏａｋｉｎｇ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅ               ａｔｍｏｓｐｈｅｒｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｐｌａｃｅ               Ｉ               ｌｏｖｅｄ. Ｔａｋｉｎｇ               ｓｎｅａｋｙ               ａｄｖａｎｔａｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｐａｒｅｎｔｓ'               ａｂｓｅｎｃｅ               Ｉ               ｔｒａｎｓｆｅｒｒｅｄ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｏｌｄ               ｖｉｎｙｌ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ               ｏｎｔｏ               ｃａｓｓｅｔｔｅ,               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｏｗｎ               ａｎｃｉｅｎｔ               ｈｉ-ｆｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｃａｐａｂｌｅ               ｏｆ               ｄｏｉｎｇ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｎ               ｕｎｓｅｔｔｌｉｎｇ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ...ｔｏ               ｌｉｓｔｅｎ               ｔｏ               ｓｏｎｇｓ               ｔｈａｔ,               ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｓｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｍ,               Ｉ'ｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｅｎ               ｏｒ               ｆｉｔｅｅｎ               ｙｅａｒｓ,               ｏｒ               ｍｏｒｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｅｖｏｋｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｈｅａｒｔｒｅｎｄｉｎｇ               ｉｎｔｅｎｓｉｔｙ               ａ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｆｉｌｌｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｒｉｍ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｓｈｅｅｒ               ｙｏｕｔｈｆｕｌ               ｊｏｙ               ｏｆ               ｌｉｆｅ               ａｎｄ               ｕｎｄｉｌｕｔｅｄ               ｈｏｐｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｕｔｕｒｅ. Ｙｅｔ               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ               ｓｏ,               ｉｔ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔｌｙ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｔｈｅｍ,               ｄｅｓｐｉｔｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｏｓｓａｌ               ｃｈａｎｇｅｓ               ｔｈａｔ'ｄ               ｔａｋｅｎ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｎｏｔ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｏｗｎ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｔｉｏｎ. Ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｃｏｎｆｏｎｔｅｄ               ａｔ               ｏｎｃｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｖａｓｔａｔｉｎｇ               ｔｒａｎｓｉｅｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｈｕｍａｎ               ｌｉｆｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｖａｓｔａｔｉｎｇ               ｅｆｆｅｃｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｓｓａｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｅｘｅｒｔｓ               ｏｎ               ａｌｌ               ｈｕｍａｎ               ｌｉｆｅ.                Ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               Ｓｈｏｒｔ               Ｓｐａｃｅ               ｏｆ               Ｔｉｍｅ                Ｉ               ｌｏｖｅ...ｎｏｔ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｔｈｏｓｅ...                Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｈｅｎ,                Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｏｓｅ...                Ｗｈｏ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｙｏｕｎｇ                Ｂａｃｋ               ｔｈｅｎ,                Ｂｕｔ               ｗｈｏ'ｖｅ               ｓｉｎｃｅ                Ｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｇｒｉｅｆ,               ｗｈｏ...                Ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｓｏａｒｅｄ               ｓｏ               ｈｉｇｈ,                Ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ                Ｃｏｎｓｅｑｕｅｎｔ               ｄｅｓｃｅｎｔ                Ｔｏｏ               ｄｒｅａｄｆｕｌ               ｔｏ               ｂｅａｒ,                Ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ｐａｓｔ               ｉｔｓｅｌｆ,                Ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎｌｙ                Ｙｅｓｔｅｒｄａｙ,                Ｎｏ...ｅｖｅｎ               ｌｅｓｓ               ｔｉｍｅ...                Ａ               ｍｏｍｅｎｔ               ａｇｏ,                Ａｎｄ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｐｌａｙ                Ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               1975,                Ｓｏｕｌ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ,                Ｇｌａｍ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ,                Ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓｉｖｅ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ,                Ｔｗｅｎｔｙ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｍｅｌｔ               ａｗａｙ                Ｉｎｔｏ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇｎｅｓｓ...                Ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｔｗｅｎｔｙ-ｙｅａｒ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ?                Ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ                Ａ               ｂｌｉｎｋ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               ｅｙｅ...                Ｈｏｗ               ｃｏｕｌｄ                Ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｓｐａｃｅ                Ｏｆ               ｔｉｍｅ                Ｃａｕｓｅ               ｓｕｃｈ               ｄｅｖａｓｔａｔｉｏｎ?                Ｄｉｓｐｅｒｓａｌｓ               ａｎｄ               Ｂｅｇｉｎｎｉｎｇｓ                Ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｍｏｎｔｈｓ               ｌａｔｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒｏｕｂｌｅｄ,               ｔｕｒｂｕｌｅｎｔ               20ｔｈ               Ｃｅｎｔｕｒｙ               ｃｅｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               21ｓｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｏｕｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｆｉｒｅｗｏｒｋｓ               ｆｒａｎｔｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｅｘｐｌｏｄｉｎｇ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈｏｕｔ               ｍｙ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｕｒｈｏｏｄ. Ｐｈｏｎｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｆａｔｈｅｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｎｉｇｈｔ               ｔｏ               ｗｉｓｈ               ｈｉｍ               ａ               ｈａｐｐｙ               ｎｅｗ               ｙｅａｒ               Ｉ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｓｐｅｒａｔｅｌｙ               ｉｌｌ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｆｌｕ. Ｉｔ'ｓ               ｃｒｏｓｓｅｄ               ｍｙ               ｍｉｎｄ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｍａｙ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｓｕｓｃｅｐｔｉｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｌｕ               ｖｉｒｕｓ               ｐａｒｔｌｙ               ａｓ               ａ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔ               ｏｆ               ｓｔｒｅｓｓ               ｃａｕｓｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｌａｔｔｅｒｌｙ               ｑｕｉｔ               ｙｅｔ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ;               ｔｈｉｓ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｎ               ＭＡ               ｉｎ               Ｆｒｅｎｃｈ               ａｎｄ               Ｔｈｅｏｒｙ               ｏｆ               Ｌｉｔｅｒａｔｕｒｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｕｎｉｖｅｒｓｉｔｙ               Ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ,               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｐｒｅｓｔｉｇｉｏｕｓ               ｏｆ               ｉｔｓ               ｋｉｎｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ. Ｂｕｔ               ｏｎｃｅ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｏｒｄ               ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ               ｍｙ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｅ               ｍａｄｅ               ａ               ｆｕｌｌ               ｒｅｃｏｖｅｒｙ. Ｉ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ               ｍａｇｎｅｔｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｃｏｍｐｅｌｌｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ａｎ               ｉｎｔｅｌｌｅｃｔｕａｌ               ｌｅｖｅｌ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｔｈａｔ               ａｓ               ｉｔ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｏｎ,               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｓｔｒｏｎｇ               ｃｈａｎｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｒｉｔｉｎｇ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｃｏｎｔｅｍｐｏｒａｒｙ               Ｌｉｔｅｒａｒｙ               Ｔｈｅｏｒｙ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｉｎｃｒｅａｓｉｎｇｌｙ               ｔｏ               ｄｉｓｔｕｒｂ               ｍｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｃｏｍｐｒｏｍｉｓｅ               ｍｙ               ｉｎｔｅｇｒｉｔｙ               ａｓ               ａ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ. Ａｓ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｕｔ,               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ               ｌｅａｖｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｐｒｏｖｉｓｉｏｎａｌ               ｂａｓｉｓ.                Ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｍａｒｋｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｗｈａｔ               ａｐｐｅａｒ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ               ｎｏｗ               ａｓ               ａｎ               ｅｘｔｒａｏｒｄｉｎａｒｙ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎ               ｓｔａｒｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｅｎｄｉｎｇｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｕｂｓｅｑｕｅｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｑｕｉｔｔｉｎｇ               ＵＣＬ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｐｐｏｉｎｔｅｄ               ｃｈｉｅｆ               ｍｕｓｉｃｉａｎ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｗｏｒｓｈｉｐ               ｇｒｏｕｐ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｔｔｅｎｄｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ,               Ｌｉｂｅｒｔｙ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               Ｃｅｎｔｒｅ. Ｌｉｂｅｒｔｙ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｓａｔｅｌｌｉｔｅ               ｏｆ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ'ｓ               ｆａｍｏｕｓ               Ｋｅｎｓｉｎｇｔｏｎ               Ｔｅｍｐｌｅ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｒｅｃｏｍｍｅｎｄｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｓｔ               ｂｙ               ｍｙ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄ               Ｍａｒｉｎａ,               Ｒｕｓｓｉａｎ               ｗｉｆｅ               ｏｆ               Ｐａｓｔｏｒ               Ｌｏｕｉｓ,               ｌａｔｅ               ｏｆ               Ｎｅｗ               Ｙｏｒｋ               Ｃｉｔｙ. Ｓｈｅ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｗｏｒｓｈｉｐ               ｌｅａｄｅｒ,               ａｌｔｅｒｎａｔｉｎｇ               ａｓ               ｓｕｃｈ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｍａｒｔｈａ,               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄ,               ｏｒｉｇｉｎａｌｌｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｐｅｒｕ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               Ｌｏｕｉｓ               ｗｈｏ'ｄ               ｇｏｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｏｕｃｈ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ＫＴ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｊｏｉｎｉｎｇ               ａ               ｃｅｌｌ               ｇｒｏｕｐ               ａｔ               ｈｉｓ               ｈｏｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｕｒｒｅｙ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂｓ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｅｖｅｎｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｍｕｔａｔｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               Ｌｉｂｅｒｔｙ,               ｗｉｔｈ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｆｏｒｇｅｄ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｔｉｅｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｕｔｓｅｔ.                Ｓｏｏｎ               ａｆｔｅｒｗａｒｄｓ               Ｉ               ａｌｓｏ               ｑｕｉｔ               ｍｙ               ｐｏｓｉｔｉｏｎ               ａｓ               ａ               ｔｅｌｅｃａｎｖａｓｓｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               ａｎ               ｅ-ｃｏｍｍｅｒｃｅ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｂａｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               Ｓｕｒｂｉｔｏｎ,               Ｓｕｒｒｅｙ,               ｔｈｅｒｅｂｙ               ｂｒｉｎｇｉｎｇ               ａ               ｆａｉｒｌｙ               ｌｅｎｇｔｈｙ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ               ａｓ               ａｎ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ               ｗｏｒｋｅｒ               ｔｏ               ａｎ               ｅｎｄ. Ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｔｈｅｎ               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｗｏｒｋｅｄ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｃａｓｕａｌｌｙ               ｉｎ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓ               ｆｉｅｌｄｓ               ｏｆ               ｅｍｐｌｏｙｍｅｎｔ               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｉｎｇ               ｔｅｌｅｍａｒｋｅｔｉｎｇ,               ｌｅａｆｌｅｔｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ａｓ               ａ               ｔｅｌｅｖｉｓｉｏｎ               ｅｘｔｒａ.                Ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｂｅｇｉｎｎｉｎｇ               ｃａｍｅ               ｔｏｗａｒｄｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               2000               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｍａｄｅ               ｌｅａｄ               ｓｉｎｇｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               Ｓｗｉｎｇ-ｆｌａｖｏｕｒｅｄ               ｂａｎｄ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｂｅｃａｍｅ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ａｓ               "Ｎｕａｇｅｓ"               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｍｏｕｓ               ｉｎｓｔｒｕｍｅｎｔａｌ               ｂｙ               Ｆｒｅｎｃｈ               Ｊａｚｚ               ｇｕｉｔａｒｉｓｔ               Ｄｊａｎｇｏ               Ｒｅｉｎｈａｒｄ,               ｂｕｔ               ｓｏｏｎ               ａｆｔｅｒｗａｒｄｓ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｓ               ｃｏｕｎｔｅｒｂａｌａｎｃｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｅａｒｔｂｒｅａｋｉｎｇ               ｄｉｓｓｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               Ｌｉｂｅｒｔｙ. Ａｎｄ               ｓｏ,               ｉｎ               ｅａｒｌｙ               2001               Ｉ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｓｐｉｒｉｔｕａｌ               ｈｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｒｎｅｒｓｔｏｎｅ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ,               ａ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐ               ａｆｆｉｌｉａｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｗｏｒｄ               ｏｆ               Ｆａｉｔｈ               Ｍｏｖｅｍｅｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ｓｐｅｃｉｆｉｃａｌｌｙ               Ｒｈｅｍａ               Ｍｉｎｉｓｔｒｉｅｓ               ｏｆ               Ｊｏｈａｎｎｅｓｂｕｒｇ,               Ｓｏｕｔｈ               Ａｆｒｉｃａ,               ｐａｓｔｏｒｅｄ               ｂｙ               Ｒａｙ               ＭｃＣａｕｌｅｙ. Ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｄｅｆｅｃｔｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｒｉｖｅｒｓｉｄｅ               Ｖｉｎｅｙａｒｄ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               Ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐ,               Ｉ'ｄ               ｇｏｎｅ               ｔｏ               Ｃｏｒｎｅｒｓｔｏｎｅ               ｆｏｒ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｅａｒｌｙ               1993,               ｉｎ               ｆａｃｔ,               ｈａｄ               ａｔｔｅｎｄｅｄ               ｍｙ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｓｅｒｖｉｃｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｂｅｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ａ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｉｎ               '92. Ｄｒｕｎｋ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｒｅｃａｌｌ,               Ｉ'ｄ               ｓａｔ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ               ｂｌｏｎｄｅ               ｗｏｍａｎ               ｏｆ               ａｂｏｕｔ               55               ｗｈｏｍ               Ｉ               ｌａｔｅｒ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ａ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓｆｕｌ               ａｃｔｒｅｓｓ               ｗｈｏ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｅｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆ               ｈｅｒ               ｃａｒｅｅｒ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｉｘｔｉｅｓ               ｈａｄ               ａｐｐｅａｒｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｅｌｅｖｉｓｉｏｎ               ｃｕｌｔ               ｃｌａｓｓｉｃｓ               "Ｔｈｅ               Ａｖｅｎｇｅｒｓ"               ａｎｄ               "Ｔｈｅ               Ｐｒｉｓｏｎｅｒ". Ａｐａｒｔ               ｆｒｏｍ               ａｎ               ｅｌｄｅｒ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               Ｊｅｓｕｓ               Ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐ,               ｗｈｏ'ｄ               ｌａｉｄ               ｈａｎｄｓ               ｏｎ               ｍｅ               ａｔ               ａ               ｍｅｅｔｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｉｒｓ               ｉｎ               ｃｅｎｔｒａｌ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ,               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｍｙ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｅｎｃｏｕｒａｇｅｒ,               ｉｆ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｂｒｉｅｆｌｙ. Ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               ｏｒ               ｓｐｅａｋ               ｔｏ               ｈｅｒ               ａｇａｉｎ               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｆｏｒ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｍｏｎｔｈｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ               ａｓ               ａ               ｎｅｗ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅｒ,               Ｉ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｓｈｅ'ｄ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ｔｏ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ. Ｗｅ               ｋｅｐｔ               ｏｎ               ｍｉｓｓｉｎｇ               ｅａｃｈ               ｏｔｈｅｒ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｅ               ｄｉｅｄ               ｉｎ               Ｊｕｎｅ               2001. Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｆｏｒｇｏｔｔｅｎ               ｈｅｒ.                Ｉ               ｌｅｆｔ               Ｃｏｒｎｅｒｓｔｏｎｅ               ｙｅｔ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｉｎ               ｌａｔｅ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ               2002               ｉｎ               ｃｏｎｓｅｑｕｅｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｄｅｓｉｒｅ               ｂｏｒｎ               ｏｆ               ｉｎｔｅｒｎｅｔ               ｒｅｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅｋ               ｏｕｔ               ｐｌａｃｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｗｏｒｓｈｉｐ               ｅｘｉｓｔｉｎｇ               ｂｅｙｏｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｅｎｔｅｃｏｓｔａｌ/Ｃｈａｒｉｓｍａｔｉｃ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ               ｏｆ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ. Ｓｐｉｒｉｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｓｐｅａｋｉｎｇ,               ｔｈｉｓ'ｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｍｙ               ｗｈｏｌｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｎｅａｒｌｙ               ａ               ｄｅｃａｄｅ,               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｇｒｅｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｂａｒｅｌｙ               ａｃｋｎｏｗｌｅｄｇｅｄ               ａｎｙ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ａｓ               ｗｏｒｔｈｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｎａｍｅ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｅｎｇａｇｅｄ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｓｉｍｉｌａｒ               ｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｏｆ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｄｕｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓｌｙ. Ｍｙ               ｑｕｅｓｔ               ｌｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ａｓ               Ｃｅｓｓａｔｉｏｎｉｓｔ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｓ               ｔｏ               ｓａｙ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕａｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｐｅｒｎａｔｕｒａｌ               Ｇｉｆｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｈｏｌｙ               Ｓｐｉｒｉｔ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａｓ               Ｔｏｎｇｕｅｓ               ａｎｄ               Ｐｒｏｐｈｅｃｙ. Ｉｔ               ａｌｓｏ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｅｒｍｏｎ               Ａｕｄｉｏ               ｗｅｂｓｉｔｅ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｄｏｗｎｌｏａｄｅｄ               ｓｏ               ｍａｎｙ               ｏｎｌｉｎｅ               ｓｅｒｍｏｎｓ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒ               ｍａｙ               ｈａｖｅ               ｃｒａｓｈｅｄ               ａｓ               ａ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔ. Ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｉｓｃｅｒｎｍｅｎｔ               ｍｉｎｉｓｔｒｉｅｓ,               ｓｏｍｅ               ｃｅｓｓａｔｉｏｎｉｓｔ,               ｏｔｈｅｒｓ               ｎｏｔ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｖｉｓｉｔｅｄ,               ｐｏｕｒｉｎｇ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ               ａｎｃｉｅｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｈｏｕｒｓ               ｏｎ               ｅｎｄ. Ｉ               ｌｅａｒｎｅｄ               ａｌｏｔ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅｍ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｎｏｔ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｓｉｎｃｅ. Ｗｈｅｎ               ａｌｌ'ｓ               ｓａｉｄ               ａｎｄ               ｄｏｎｅ,               ｔｈｅｒｅ'ｓ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｃａｎ               ｌｕｒｅ               ｍｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｕｒｅ               Ｗｏｒｄ               ｏｆ               Ｇｏｄ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｈａｓ               ｅｎｓｕｒｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｒｖｉｖａｌ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｏｆ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｗｏ               ｍｉｌｌｅｎｉａ.                Ｓｏｍｅ               Ｆｕｎｄａｍｅｎｔａｌｓ               ａｎｄ               Ｎｏｎ-Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａｌｓ                Ａｍｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ               Ｉ               ｖｉｓｉｔｅｄ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｎｄｅｒｉｎｇ               ｙｅａｒ               ｏｆ               2003               ｗｅｒｅ               Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ               Ｂａｐｔｉｓｔ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ,               Ｗｉｍｂｌｅｄｏｎ,               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ,               Ｔｅｄｄｉｎｇｔｏｎ               ａｎｄ               Ｄｕｋｅ               Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ,               Ｒｉｃｈｍｏｎｄ,               ａｌｌ               ｌｏｃａｔｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｌｅａｓａｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ａｆｆｌｕｅｎｔ               ｏｕｔｅｒ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂｓ               ｏｆ               ｓｏｕｔｈ               ｗｅｓｔ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ.                Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ               ｉｓ               ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ａｓ               ａｎ               Ｉｎｄｅｐｅｎｄｅｎｔ               Ｆｕｎｄａｍｅｎｔａｌｉｓｔ               Ｂａｐｔｉｓｔ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅｆｏｒｅ               ＫＪＶ               ｏｎｌｙ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｓ               ｔｏ               ｓａｙ               ｕｓｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               Ｋｉｎｇ               Ｊａｍｅｓ               Ｖｅｒｓｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ               ａｌｏｎｅ. Ｉ               ａｔｔｅｎｄｅｄ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｓｅｒｖｉｃｅｓ               ａｔ               Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ               ａｎｄ               ｆｕｌｌｙ               ｉｎｔｅｎｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｆｏｕｒｔｈ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               ｗｉｔｎｅｓｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｅａｃｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｏｆ               Ｄａｖｉｄ               Ｃｌｏｕｄ               ｏｆ               Ｗａｙ               ｏｆ               Ｌｉｆｅ               Ｍｉｎｉｓｔｒｉｅｓ,               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒｗａｒｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｏｉｎｇ               ｇｉｖｅｎ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｆａｍｉｌｉａｒ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｈｉｓ               ｓｅｒｍｏｎｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｅｒｍｏｎ               Ａｕｄｉｏ               ｗｅｂｓｉｔｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｄｉｄ. Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｈｅｌｄ               ｕｐ               ａｔ               Ｗｉｍｂｌｅｄｏｎ               Ｂｒｉｔｉｓｈ               Ｒａｉｌ               ｓｔａｔｉｏｎ               ｆｏｒ               ｏｖｅｒ               ａｎ               ｈｏｕｒ               ｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｌａｓｔ               Ｓｕｎｄａｙ               ａｔ               Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ               ｍａｙ               ｈａｖｅ               ｐｕｔ               ｍｅ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｒａｖｅｌｌｉｎｇ               ｂｙ               ｔｒａｉｎ               ｔｏ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ. Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒｕｔｈ               ｉｓ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｔｏｏ               ｍａｎｙ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｓ               ｔｉｒｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｓｉｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｎｅｗ               ｂｏｙ               ｂｒｏｕｇｈｔ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｂｙ               ｐｅｒｐｅｔｕａｌ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ-ｈｏｐｐｉｎｇ. Ｉ               ｎｏｗ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ-ｈｏｐｐｉｎｇ               ｉｎｄｅｅｄ               ｌｕｋｅ-ｗａｒｍ               ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｔｅｎｔｉａｌ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ａ               ｓｅｒｉｏｕｓ               ｄａｎｇｅｒ               ｔｏ               ａｎｙ               ｐｒｏｆｅｓｓｉｎｇ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ.                Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｉｓ               ａ               Ｆｒｅｅ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｏｆ               Ｅｎｇｌａｎｄ               ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐ,               Ｔｈｅ               Ｆｒｅｅ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｏｆ               Ｅｎｇｌａｎｄ               ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｓｅｐａｒａｔｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｓｔａｂｌｉｓｈｅｄ               Ｃ               ｏｆ               Ｅ               ｉｎ               1844               ｉｎ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｈｉｇｈ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               Ａｎｇｌｉｃａｎｉｓｍ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｅｎ               Ｂｉｓｈｏｐ               ｏｆ               Ｅｘｅｔｅｒ,               Ｈｅｎｒｙ               Ｐｈｉｌｌｐｏｔｔｓ. Ｉｔ'ｓ               ｒｅｓｏｌｕｔｅｌｙ               Ｅｖａｎｇｅｌｉｃａｌ,               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ               ａｓ               ｌｉｔｕｒｇｉｃａｌ               ａｎｄ               Ｅｐｉｓｃｏｐａｌ,               ａｎｄ               ｉｔｓ               ｍｅｍｂｅｒ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ               ａｄｈｅｒｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｏｃｔｒｉｎｅｓ               ｏｆ               Ｇｒａｃｅ,               ａｌｓｏ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｖｅ               ｐｏｉｎｔｓ               ｏｆ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｍ,               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               Ｔｏｔａｌ               Ｄｅｐｒａｖｉｔｙ,               Ｕｎｃｏｎｄｉｔｉｏｎａｌ               Ｅｌｅｃｔｉｏｎ,               Ｌｉｍｉｔｅｄ               Ａｔｏｎｅｍｅｎｔ,               Ｉｒｒｅｓｉｓｔｉｂｌｅ               Ｇｒａｃｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｅｒｓｅｖｅｒａｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓａｉｎｔｓ. Ａｃｃｏｒｄｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｍ,               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｗｈｏ               ｆｏｒｍ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｅｌｅｃｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｐｒｅｄｅｓｔｉｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｓａｌｖａｔｉｏｎ               ｂｙ               Ｇｏｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｎｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｃａｎ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｓａｖｉｎｇ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｏｗｎ               ｆｒｅｅ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｄｕｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｏｔａｌ               ｄｅｐｒａｖｉｔｙ.                Ｄｕｋｅ               Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               ｉｓ               ａｌｓｏ               ａ               Ｆｒｅｅ               Ｇｒａｃｅ,               ｏｒ               ｒａｔｈｅｒ,               Ｇｒａｃｅ               Ｂａｐｔｉｓｔ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ,               ｗｈｉｌｅ               Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ               ｉｓ               ｆｒｅｅ-ｗｉｌｌｉｓｔ. Ｉｎ               ｃｏｎｓｅｑｕｅｎｃｅ,               ｍａｎｙ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｔｓ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｄｅｓｃｒｉｂｅ               ｉｔ               ａｓ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉａｎ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｕｔｃｈ               ｔｈｅｏｌｏｇｉａｎ               Ｊａｃｏｂｕｓ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉｕｓ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｓｎ'ｔ               ａｎ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅｌｙ               ａｃｃｕｒａｔｅ               ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｖｉｅｗ               ｇｉｖｅｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｒｕｅ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉａｎｓ               ｍａｉｎｔａｉｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓａｌｖａｔｉｏｎ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｌｏｓｔ,               ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               Ｉｎｄｅｐｅｎｄｅｎｔ               Ｆｕｎｄａｍｅｎｔａｌｉｓｔ               Ｂａｐｔｉｓｔｓ               ａｒｅ               ｕｐｈｏｌｄｅｒｓ               ｏｆ               ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｔｅｒｎａｌ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓａｉｎｔｓ. Ｉｎ               ｓｈｏｒｔ,               ｔｈｅｙ               ａｒｅ               ｎｅｉｔｈｅｒ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｔ               ｎｏｒ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉａｎ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｓ               ａｎ               ｏｘｙｍｏｒｏｎｉｃ               ｓｔａｔｅｍｅｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅｒｓ.                Ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ,               ａｌｌ               ｔｒｕｅ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅｒｓ               ａｒｅ               ｕｎｉｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｃｌｅａｒ               ａｄｈｅｒｅｎｃｅ               ｔｏ               ｃｅｒｔａｉｎ               ｋｅｙ               ｄｏｃｔｒｉｎｅｓ               ｆｏｒｍｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｓｉｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｔｒｕｅ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｎｏ               ｓａｌｖａｔｉｏｎ,               ｅｖｅｎ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｍａｙ               ｂｅ               ｄｉｖｉｄｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｎｏｎ-ｓａｖｉｎｇ               ｉｎｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａｌｓ,               ｏｒ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄａｒｙ               ｔｒｕｔｈｓ.                Ｆｏｒ               ｅｘａｍｐｌｅ,               ｗｈｉｌｅ               Ｉ'ｍ               ａｎ               ｕｐｈｏｌｄｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｂａｐｔｉｓｍ               ｂｙ               ｆｕｌｌ               ｉｍｍｅｒｓｉｏｎ,               Ｉ               ｃｅｒｔａｉｎｌｙ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ａｄｈｅｒｅｎｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｉｎｆａｎｔ               ｂａｐｔｉｓｍ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｈｅｒｅｔｉｃｓ,               ａｔ               ｌｅａｓｔ               ｎｏｔ               ａｕｔｏｍａｔｉｃａｌｌｙ. Ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｈａｎｄ,               Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ａ               ｒｅａｌ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｗｈｏ               ｍａｉｎｔａｉｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ａ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｂｅ               ｂａｐｔｉｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｏｒｄｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｓａｖｅｄ,               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ               ｍａｋｅｓ               ｉｔ               ｃｌｅａｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｅ               ａｒｅ               ｓａｖｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ａｌｏｎｅ. Ｔｈａｔ               ｓａｉｄ,               ｅｖｅｒｙ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｂａｐｔｉｓｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｆｕｌｌ               ｉｍｍｅｒｓｉｏｎ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               Ｇｏｄ               ｃｏｍｍａｎｄｓ               ｉｔ,               ａｎｄ               Ｇｏｄ               ｕｒｇｅｓ               ｕｓ               ｔｏ               ｋｅｅｐ               ｈｉｓ               ｃｏｍｍａｎｄｅｍｅｎｔｓ. Ａｌｓｏ,               ｗｈｉｌｅ               Ｉ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｐｒｉｏｒ               ｔｏ               ｅｓｔａｂｌｉｓｈｉｎｇ               ｈｉｓ               ｒｅｉｇｎ               ｏｎ               ｅａｒｔｈ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｌｉｔｅｒａｌ               ｔｈｏｕｓａｎｄ               ｙｅａｒ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｍａｋｅｓ               ｍｅ               ａ               ｐｒｅ-ｍｉｌｌｅｎｉａｌｉｓｔ,               ａ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ               ｃａｎ               ｍａｉｎｔａｉｎ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               ｗｏｎ'ｔ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｌｌｅｎｉｕｍ,               ｏｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｌｌｅｎｉｕｍ               ｌｉｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｓｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｂｅ               ａ               ｓａｖｅｄ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ. Ｔｈｅｓｅ               ａｒｅ               ｊｕｓｔｉｆｉａｂｌｅ               ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｃｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｓｃｒｉｐｔｕｒａｌ               ｉｎｔｅｒｐｒｅｔａｔｉｏｎ.                Ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｙｅａｒ               ｏｆ               ｎｏｎｓｔｏｐ               ｓｔｕｄｙ,               2003,               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｔｏ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄａｔｉｏｎｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｉｔｈ,               ａｎｄ               ｙｅｔ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｐｏｓｓｅｓｓｅｄ               ａ               ｄｅｇｒｅｅ               ｏｆ               ｄｉｓｃｅｒｎｍｅｎｔ. Ｗｈａｔ'ｓ               ｍｏｒｅ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｎｏ               ｃｌｕｅ               ａｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｃｅｓ               ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｍ               ａｎｄ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉａｎｉｓｍ,               Ｃｏｖｅｎａｎｔ               Ｔｈｅｏｌｏｇｙ               ａｎｄ               Ｄｉｓｐｅｎｓａｔｉｏｎａｌｉｓｍ,               Ｃｅｓｓａｔｉｏｎｉｓｍ               ａｎｄ               Ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕａｔｉｏｎｉｓｍ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               ｏｎ. Ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｓａｖｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               Ｇｒａｃｅ               ｏｆ               Ｇｏｄ;               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ａｎｙｏｎｅ               ｉｓ               ｅｉｔｈｅｒ               ｓａｖｅｄ               ｏｒ               ｄａｍｎｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｉｎｇ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｄｉｓｔｉｎｃｔｉｏｎｓ. Ｔｈａｔ               ｓａｉｄ,               ｔｒｕｅ               ｓａｖｉｎｇ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｅ               ｆｒｕｉｔｓ,               ｓｕｃｈ               ａｓ               ｒｅｐｅｎｔａｎｃｅ,               ａｎｄ               ａｄｈｅｒｅｎｃｅ               ｔｏ               ｓｏｕｎｄ               ｄｏｃｔｒｉｎｅ. Ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｍｅ               ｔｉｍｅ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｆａｉｒｌｙ               ｗｅｌｌ               ｖｅｒｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｂｊｅｃｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｐｈｅｔｉｃ               ｉｎｔｅｒｐｒｅｔａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ               ｔｈａｎｋｓ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｉｎｔｒｏｄｕｃｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｅａｒｌｙ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｂｙ               Ｓｐｅｎｃｅｒ               ａｎｄ               Ｇｒａｃｅ               Ｎａｓｈ,               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓ               ｍａｇａｚｉｎｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｂｏｏｋｓ,               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｉｎｇ               "Ｐｒｏｐｈｅｃｙ               Ｔｏｄａｙ".                Ｉ               ｅｍｅｒｇｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈａｔ               ｙｅａｒ               ｏｆ               ｎｏｎｓｔｏｐ               ｓｔｕｄｙ               ａｔ               ｐｅａｃｅ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｅｎｔｅｃｏｓｔａｌ-Ｃｈａｒｉｓｍａｔｉｃ               ｍｏｖｅｍｅｎｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｙｅｔ               ｃｏｎｓｃｉｏｕｓ               ａｓ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ａｄｈｅｒｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｕｎｄａｍｅｎｔａｌｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ｏｎｃｅ               ｄｅｌｉｖｅｒｅｄ               ｕｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｉｎｔｓ. Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｌａｓｔ. Ｉ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔｌｙ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｍａｋｅ               ｙｅｔ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ               ｏｆ               ｄｉｓｃｅｒｎｍｅｎｔ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｏｎｌｉｎｅ               ｒｅｓｅａｒｃｈ. Ｎｏ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｈａｓ               ａ               ｐｅｒｆｅｃｔ               ｋｎｏｗｌｅｄｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒｕｔｈ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｕｎｉｔｙ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ               Ｅｖａｎｇｅｌｉｃａｌｓ               ａｄｈｅｒｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｕｎｄａｍｅｎｔａｌｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ｉｒｒｅｓｐｅｃｔｉｖｅ               ｏｆ               ｗｈａｔ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｃｈｏｏｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｗｏｒｓｈｉｐ               ｉｎ. Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｕｎｉｔｙ               ｃａｎ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｂｅ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｐｅｎｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｕｎｃｏｍｐｒｏｍｉｓｅｄ               ｐｕｒｉｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｗｏｒｄ               ｏｆ               Ｇｏｄ.

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1. At Bethel Bible College

   gymnasia.wordpress.com/   02/24/2009

   ...country that the yoyo was invented in? Last Thursday, we visited Bethel Bible College in Malinta, Valenzuela and I had the opportunity to ask around 60 students...

2. Why Some Evangelical Colleges and Universities are Struggling Financially– While Other Schools are Doing Great

   simplefreechurch.wordpress.com/   10/25/2013

   ...Gehrz writes of the Bethel situation, and draws...in the Council for Christian Colleges & Universities...that a lot of evangelical and bible colleges are...

3. Is Charismatic Renewal for Real? part 13

   reverendknow-it-all.blogspot.com/   08/29/2013

   ...anyone from trying to take theological charge of the movement. Stone's Folly, home of Bethel Bible College A bit of review: 1901 Stone’s Folly and Charles Parham was where it all ...

4. A repost: Colleges that ARE promoting Contemplative/ Emerging/Emergent teachings and DO have a Spiritual Formation program

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   ... and contemplative Bible study. Anderson University [I'm...Theological Seminary Valley Forge Christian College Branch Campus Phoenixville, PA...Belmont University Nashville, Tennessee Bethel Seminary San Diego, St. Paul, East...

5. A 'freedom ride' to anti-gay colleges

   mrclm.blogspot.com/   03/03/2006

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6. College for Church Kids, pt. 2

   kentbrandenburg.blogspot.com/   04/23/2012

   ...with the actual history of one Bible onlyism, also known as...and secondary education so far at Bethel Christian Academy , a ministry of... to some Christian college. Ultimately, it could only be a...

7. Bible School For Prophets

   theorangemailmanmyblog.wordpress.com/   06/07/2008

   ...the Truth . Glen can have an odd sense of humor sometimes and this post of his about Bible College betrayed this side of him. As I read the post, my odd (and orange) sense...

8. Inside the Modern Baptism of the Spirit: Holy or Un-Holy?

   fanaticforjesus.blogspot.com/   11/19/2012

   ...early part of the 20th century. In 1901, Agnes Ozman, a young woman attending Bethel Bible College in Topeka, Kansas, claimed to have received a special "baptism of the spirit...

9. THE MINISTRY OF GIVING – TB Joshua

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   ... freely distributed. The Rev. Dr P.N.S. Chandra Bose (President of Bethel Bible College; National Vice President, Bible Society of India) spoke in appreciation of the team...

10. Illustrious Men and Ministries

    ernestanderson.wordpress.com/   03/24/2012

    ... over and, rather than fighting for control, Parham started Bethel Bible College at Topeka in October 1900. The school was modeled on Sandford’s “Holy...

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About 'bethel bible college'|College for Church Kids, pt. 2

About 'bethel bible college'|College for Church Kids, pt. 2

Ｔｈｅ               Ｔｗｉｌｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               Ａｃｔｏｒ               Ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｍｏｎｔｈｓ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ａｐｐｅａｒｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               Ｊｉｍ               Ｃａｒｔｗｒｉｇｈｔ'ｓ               ｂｉｔｔｅｒ-ｓｗｅｅｔ               ｔｗｏ-ｈａｎｄｅｒ               "Ｔｗｏ",               Ｉ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｏｎｅ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｐｌａｙ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｒｏｓｅ               ａｎｄ               Ｃｒｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ-ｄｒｉｖｅｎ               ｃｏｍｅｄｙ,               "Ｌｏｖｅｌｉｖｅｓ".                Ｗｒｉｔｔｅｎ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅｌｙ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｓｔ,               ｉｔ               ｃｏｎｓｉｓｔｅｄ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｓｋｅｔｃｈｅｓ               ｃｅｎｔｒｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｉｓａｓｔｒｏｕｓ               ａｎｔｉｃｓ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｇｒｏｕｐ               ｏｆ               ｓｉｎｇｌｅｔｏｎｓ               ｗｈｏ               ｈａｄ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ               ａｔ               ａ               ｌｏｎｅｌｙ               ｈｅａｒｔｓ               ｃｌｕｂ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂｓ. Ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｉｔ               ｃｈｉｍｅｄ               ｐｅｒｆｅｃｔｌｙ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｉｒｉｔ               ｏｆ               Ｂｒｉｔｉｓｈ               ｐｏｓｔ-ｗａｒ               ｃｏｍｅｄｙ               ａｎｄ               ｉｔｓ               ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｉｓｔｉｃ               ｃｅｌｅｂｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｆａｉｌｕｒｅ               ａｎｄ               ｂａｎａｌｉｔｙ. Ａ               ｇｒｅａｔ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｒ&Ｃ,               ｉｔ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｖｉｅｗ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｄｅｖｅｌｏｐｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ａ               ｔｅｌｅｖｉｓｉｏｎ               ｐｌａｙ               ｏｒ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｓａｄｌｙ,               ａ               ｂｒｉｌｌｉａｎｔ               ｃａｓｔ               ｄｉｓｐｅｒｓｅｄ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｓｈｏｗ.                Ｌａｔｅｒ               ｉｎ               '95,               ｍｙ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄ               Ａｄａｍ               ｏｆｆｅｒｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｗｏ               ｓｍａｌｌ               ｒｏｌｅｓ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｍｏｄｅｓｔ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｇｒｅｅｋ               ｔｒａｇｅｄｙ,               "Ｉｐｈｉｇｅｎｅｉａ               ｉｎ               Ｔａｕｒｏｉｓ",               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｗｒｉｔｔｅｎ               ｂｙ               Ｅｕｒｉｐｉｄｅｓ               ｓｏｍｅｗｈｅｒｅ               ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ               414               ａｎｄ               412               ＢＣ. Ｄｉｒｅｃｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               Ａｄａｍ,               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｓｐａｒｓｅ               ａｔ               ｆｉｒｓｔ,               ｐｉｃｋｉｎｇ               ｕｐ               ｔｏｗａｒｄｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｕｎ.                Ｔｈｅｎ,               ｔｈｅ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ               Ｊａｎｕａｒｙ,               Ｉ               ｊｏｉｎｅｄ               ａ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ,               Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               Ｌｅｖｅｌ,               ｂａｓｅｄ               ａｔ               ａ               ｌａｒｇｅ               Ｐｅｎｔｅｃｏｓｔａｌ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｖａｓｔ               ｍｕｌｔｉｃｕｌｔｕｒａｌ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂ               ｏｆ               Ｃｒｏｙｄｏｎ               ｉｎ               Ｓｕｒｒｅｙ.                Ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｆｏｒｍｉｎｇ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｇｒｅａｔｅｒ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ               Ｕｒｂａｎ               Ａｒｅａ,               ｉｔ'ｓ               ｙｅｔ               ｉｎ               ｅｆｆｅｃｔ               ａ               ｃｉｔｙ               ｗｉｔｈｉｎ               ａ               ｃｉｔｙ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｒｕｎｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｇａｍｕｔ               ｄｅｍｏｇｒａｐｈｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｏｕｇｈ               ｉｎｎｅｒ               ｃｉｔｙ               ａｒｅａｓ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａｓ               Ｔｈｏｒｎｔｏｎ               Ｈｅａｔｈ               ｔｏ               ｌｅａｆｙ               ｍｉｄｄｌｅ               ｃｌａｓｓ               ｅｎｃｌａｖｅｓ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａｓ               Ｓａｎｄｅｒｓｔｅａｄ;               ｙｅｔ               ｉｔ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｍａｎａｇｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｎｔａｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｒｇｅｓｔ               ｃｏｕｎｃｉｌ               ｅｓｔａｔｅ               ｉｎ               Ｅｕｒｏｐｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｈａｐｅ               ｏｆ               Ｎｅｗ               Ａｄｄｉｎｇｔｏｎ                Ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｗｏ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ａｃｔｏｒｓ...ｖｉｚ.,               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｌｅａｄｅｒ               Ｓｅｒｅｎａ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ａｆｏｒｅｓａｉｄ               Ｔｈｏｒｎｔｏｎ               Ｈｅａｔｈ...ａｎｄ               19               ｙｅａｒ               ｏｌｄ               Ｒｅｂｅｃｃａ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｎｅａｒｂｙ               Ｓａｎｄｅｒｓｔｅａｄ,               Ｉ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｒｖｅ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓｌｙ               ａｓ               ＭＣ,               ｓｃｒｉｐｔ               ｗｒｉｔｅｒ,               ａｃｔｏｒ,               ｓｉｎｇｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｍｕｓｉｃｉａｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ,               ｗｅ               ｔｏｕｒｅｄ               ａ               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｓｈｏｗｓ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｓｃｈｏｏｌｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｌｅａｋ               ｏｕｔｅｒ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂｓ               ｏｆ               Ｓｏｕｔｈ               Ｅａｓｔ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ.                Ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｓｅ,               "Ｃｈｏｉｃｅｓ",               ｗａｓ               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅｌｙ               ｗｒｉｔｔｅｎ               ｂｙ               ｍｅ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｂａｓｅｄ               ｏｎ               ａｎ               ｉｄｅａ               ｂｙ               Ｓｅｒｅｎａ,               ｗｈｏ               ａｌｓｏ               ｈｅａｖｉｌｙ               ｅｄｉｔｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍａｎｃｅ               ｐｕｒｐｏｓｅｓ. Ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｈｏｌｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｄｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｉｎｃｒｅｄｉｂｌｙ               ｒｅｃｅｐｔｉｖｅ               ｔｏ               ｏｕｒ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｏｎｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｇｒｅｅｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｎ               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｕｎｉｆｏｒｍ               ａｆｆｅｃｔｉｏｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｎ               ｉｎｃｒｅｄｉｂｌｅ               ｃｈｅｍｉｓｔｒｙ               ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ               Ｓｅｒｅｎａ,               Ｒｅｂｅｃｃａ               ａｎｄ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ...ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｇｏ               ｗｒｏｎｇ.                Ｔｏｗａｒｄｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ,               Ｓｅｒｅｎａ               ａｓｋｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｗｒｉｔｅ               ａ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｓｃａｌｅ               ｐｒｏｊｅｃｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｒｏｕｐ,               ｓｕｇｇｅｓｔｉｎｇ               ａ               ｃｏｎｔｅｍｐｏｒａｒｙ               ｖｅｒｓｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               Ｊｏｈｎ               Ｂｕｎｙａｎ'ｓ               ｃｌａｓｓｉｃ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ａｌｌｅｇｏｒｙ               "Ｔｈｅ               Ｐｉｌｇｒｉｍ'ｓ               Ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓ".                Ｔｈｉｓ               Ｉ               ｓｅｔ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｄｏｉｎｇ,               ａｎｄ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｗｅｅｋｓ               ｏｆ               ｌａｂｏｕｒｉｎｇ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｗｈａｔ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ａｎ               ｕｎｗｉｅｌｄｙ               ａｎｄ               ｏｆｔｅｎ               ｖｉｏｌｅｎｔ               ｅｐｉｃ               ｐｕｎｃｔｕａｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｓｃｅｎｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｌａｃｋｅｓｔ               ｈｕｍｏｕｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｏｃｃａｓｉｏｎａｌｌｙ               ｖｅｒｇｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｆｆ-ｃｏｌｏｕｒ,               Ｉ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｅ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               Ｌｅｖｅｌ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｐｌａｙ,               "Ｐａｕｌ               Ｇｒｉｍ'ｓ               Ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓ",               ｈａｄ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｍｅ               ｐｏｏｒ               ｓｈａｐｅ               ｓｐｉｒｉｔｕａｌｌｙ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｆａｎｃｙ               ｔｏｏ               ｍａｎｙ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｓｔｌｙ               ｔｒａｉｎ               ｊｏｕｒｎｅｙｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｎｅｃｅｓｓａｒｙ               ｔｏ               ｇｅｔ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               Ｃｒｏｙｄｏｎ               ａｎｄ               ｂａｃｋ. Ｓｏ,               Ｉ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｔｏ               ｗｉｔｈｄｒａｗ;               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓｎ'ｔ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｈｏｎｏｕｒａｂｌｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｅ,               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               Ｓｅｒｅｎａ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｄｅｐｅｎｄｅｎｔ               ｏｎ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ               Ｒｅｂｅｃｃａ'ｓ               ｄｅｐａｒｔｕｒｅ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               "Ｃｈｏｉｃｅｓ"               ｔｏｕｒ. Ａｓ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｕｔ,               ｍｙ               ｄａｒｋ               ｍａｓｔｅｒｐｉｅｃｅ               ｗａｓ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｅｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｉｍｅ,               Ｉ               ｄｅｓｔｒｏｙｅｄ               ａｌｌ               ｂｕｔ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｐａｇｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｉｔ.                Ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｅｘｉｔ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               Ｌｅｖｅｌ,               Ｉ'ｄ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｄｅｆｅｃｔｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｃｏｒｎｅｒｓｔｏｎｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｔｈａｍｅｓ               Ｖｉｎｅｙａｒｄ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               Ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐ,               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｓｓｏｃｉａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               Ｖｉｎｅｙａｒｄ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ               ｆｏｕｎｄｅｄ               ｂｙ               Ｊｏｈｎ               Ｗｉｍｂｅｒ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               1970ｓ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｓ               ａｓ               ａ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔ               ｏｆ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｐｈｏｎｅ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｖｉｎｅｙａｒｄ               ｍｏｖｅｍｅｎｔ               ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｅｄ               ｍｅｍｂｅｒｓ               ｗｈｏｓｅ               ｓｐｉｒｉｔｕａｌ               ｇｉｆｔｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅａｌｍ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒｕｌｙ               ｅｘｃｅｐｔｉｏｎａｌ. Ｍｙ               ｃｕｒｉｏｓｉｔｙ               ａｒｏｕｓｅｄ,               Ｉ               ｗｅｎｔ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ｏｎｅ               Ｓｕｎｄａｙ               ｅｖｅｎｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｐｏｗｅｒｆｕｌ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｍａｄｅ               ｍｅ               ｗａｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｓｔａｙ;               ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ.                Ａｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｃｏｒｎｅｒｓｔｏｎｅ,               Ｉ               ｊｏｉｎｅｄ               ａ               Ｈｏｍｅ               Ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐ               ｇｒｏｕｐ,               ｗｈｅｒｅ               Ｉ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｅｄ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｌｐｈａ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｐｉｏｎｅｅｒｅｄ               ｂｙ               Ｎｉｃｋｙ               Ｇｕｍｂｅｌ               ｏｆ               Ｗｅｓｔ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ'ｓ               ｆａｍｏｕｓ               Ｈｏｌｙ               Ｔｒｉｎｉｔｙ               Ｂｒｏｍｐｔｏｎ.                Ｉ'ｄ               ｖｉｓｉｔｅｄ               ＨＴＢ               ａｔ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｐｏｉｎｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｄ               '90ｓ,               ｗｈｅｎ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｅｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｖｉｖａｌ               ｍｏｖｅｍｅｎｔ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               Ｔｏｒｏｎｔｏ               Ｂｌｅｓｓｉｎｇ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｓ               ｓｏ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｉｇｎｉｔｅｄ               ｉｎ               Ｊａｎｕａｒｙ               1994               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｔｏｒｏｎｔｏ               Ａｉｒｐｏｒｔ               Ｖｉｎｅｙａｒｄ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｂｙ               Ｓｔ. Ｌｏｕｉｓ               ｐａｓｔｏｒ               Ｒａｎｄｙ               Ｃｌａｒｋ. Ｃｌａｒｋ               ｒｅｃｅｉｖｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｈｉｍｓｅｌｆ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｓｏｕｔｈ               Ａｆｒｉｃａｎ               ｅｖａｎｇｅｌｉｓｔ               Ｒｏｄｎｅｙ               Ｈｏｗａｒｄ               Ｂｒｏｗｎ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ａ               ｓｅｒｖｉｃｅ               ａｔ               Ｒｈｅｍａ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｉｎ               Ｔｕｌｓａ,               Ｏｋｌａｈｏｍａ,               ｔｈｅｎ               ｐａｓｔｏｒｅｄ               ｂｙ               Ｋｅｎｎｅｔｈ               Ｈａｇｉｎ               Ｊｒ,               ｆｏｕｎｄｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｎｔｒｏｖｅｒｓｉａｌ               Ｗｏｒｄ               ｏｆ               Ｆａｉｔｈ               ｍｏｖｅｍｅｎｔ.. Ｉｔ               ｓｐｒｅａｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ＵＫ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ               ｏｆ               1994,               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｄｕｂｂｅｄ               Ｔｈｅ               Ｔｏｒｏｎｔｏ               Ｂｌｅｓｓｉｎｇ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄａｉｌｙ               Ｔｅｌｅｇｒａｐｈ               ｎｅｗｓｐａｐｅｒ.                Ｉｔｓ               ｍａｉｎ               Ｂｒｉｔｉｓｈ               ｃｅｎｔｒｅｓ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｅ-               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ               ａｓ               ＨＴＢ               -               Ｔｅｒｒｙ               Ｖｉｒｇｏ'ｓ               Ｎｅｗ               Ｆｒｏｎｔｉｅｒｓ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ               ｏｆ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ               ａｎｄ               Ｇｅｒａｌｄ               Ｃｏａｔｅｓ'               Ｐｉｏｎｅｅｒ               Ｐｅｏｐｌｅ,                ｗｈｏｓｅ               ｍａｉｎ               ｖｅｎｕｅ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｃｉｎｅｍａ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｕｒｒｅｙ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂ               ｏｆ               Ｅｓｈｅｒ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｖｉｓｉｔｅｄ               ｏｎｃｅ               ｏｒ               ｔｗｉｃｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｓｏ               ｐａｃｋｅｄ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｆｏｒｃｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｔａｎｄ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｒｖｉｃｅ.                Ｂｕｔ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ａｃｔｉｎｇ               ｃａｒｅｅｒ:               ｉｔｓ               ｌａｓｔ               ｈｕｒｒａｈ               ｃａｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｒｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               '98,               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｒｅｈｅａｒｓｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               Ｓｈａｋｅｓｐｅａｒｅ'ｓ               Ｓｃｏｔｔｉｓｈ               Ｐｌａｙ,               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｓｔａｇｅｄ               ａｔ               Ｆｕｌｈａｍ'ｓ               Ｌｏｓｔ               Ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ;               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｓｐｉｔｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｃａｍｅｏｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｐｒａｉｓｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｃａｓｔ               ａｎｄ               ａｕｄｉｅｎｃｅ               ａｌｉｋｅ,               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｎｏｔ               ａｃｔｅｄ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｂｅｙｏｎｄ               ａ               ｈａｎｄｆｕｌ               ｏｆ               ｉｌｌ-ｆａｔｅｄ               ａｕｄｉｔｉｏｎｓ. Ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｓｉｍｐｌｙ,               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｓｓｉｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍ               ｉｎ               ｆｒｏｎｔ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｌｉｖｅ               ａｕｄｉｅｎｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｒａｇｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈｉｎ               ｍｅ               ｌｉｋｅ               ａ               ｆｏｒｅｓｔ               ｆｉｒｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｔｗｏ               ｄｅｃａｄｅｓ               ｈａｓ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｅｘｔｉｎｇｕｉｓｈｅｄ,               ｏｒ               ｒａｔｈｅｒ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｒｅａｄ.                Ｓｏｍｅ               ｍｏｎｔｈｓ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｍｙ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍａｎｃｅ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｏｓｔ               Ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ,               Ｉ               ｗｒｏｔｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｓｅ               ｐｉｅｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｅｖｅｎｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               "Ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               Ｓｈｏｒｔ               Ｓｐａｃｅ               ｏｆ               Ｔｉｍｅ". Ｉｔｓ               ｃｒｅａｔｉｏｎ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｉｎ               ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ'ｍ               ｓｕｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｌｏｒｉｏｕｓ               ｌａｓｔ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｌｌｅｎｎｉｕｍ,               ａｎｄ               ｍｙ               ｐａｒｅｎｔｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｏｎ               ｖａｃａｔｉｏｎ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ. Ｔｈｅｎｃｅ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｏｆｔｅｎ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｓｐｅｎｔ               ｍｙ               ａｄｏｌｅｓｃｅｎｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｍａｎｈｏｏｄ,               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍｉｎｇ               ａ               ｖａｒｉｅｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｔａｓｋｓ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａｓ               ｗａｔｅｒｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ'ｓ               ｆｌｏｗｅｒｓ,               ｏｒ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｓｉｍｐｌｙ               ｓｏａｋｉｎｇ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅ               ａｔｍｏｓｐｈｅｒｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｐｌａｃｅ               Ｉ               ｌｏｖｅｄ.                Ｔａｋｉｎｇ               ｃｕｎｎｉｎｇ               ａｄｖａｎｔａｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｐａｒｅｎｔｓ'               ａｂｓｅｎｃｅ,               Ｉ               ｔｒａｎｓｆｅｒｒｅｄ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｏｌｄ               ｖｉｎｙｌ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ               ｏｎｔｏ               ｃａｓｓｅｔｔｅ,               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｏｗｎ               ａｎｃｉｅｎｔ               ｈｉ-ｆｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｃａｐａｂｌｅ               ｏｆ               ｄｏｉｎｇ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｎ               ｕｎｓｅｔｔｌｉｎｇ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ...ｔｏ               ｌｉｓｔｅｎ               ｔｏ               ｓｏｎｇｓ               ｔｈａｔ,               ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｓｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｍ,               Ｉ'ｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｅｎ               ｏｒ               ｆｉｆｔｅｅｎ               ｙｅａｒｓ,               ｏｒ               ｍｏｒｅ. Ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｈｅａｒｔｒｅｎｄｉｎｇ               ｉｎｔｅｎｓｉｔｙ,               ｔｈｅｙ               ｅｖｏｋｅｄ               ａ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｆｉｌｌｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｒｉｍ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｓｈｅｅｒ               ｙｏｕｔｈｆｕｌ               ｊｏｙ               ｏｆ               ｌｉｆｅ               ａｎｄ               ｕｎｄｉｌｕｔｅｄ               ｈｏｐｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｕｔｕｒｅ.                Ｙｅｔ,               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ               ｓｏ,               ｉｔ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔｌｙ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｔｈｅｍ,               ｄｅｓｐｉｔｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｏｓｓａｌ               ｃｈａｎｇｅｓ               ｔｈａｔ'ｄ               ｔａｋｅｎ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｓｉｎｃｅ,               ｎｏｔ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｏｗｎ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｔｉｏｎ. Ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｃｏｎｆｒｏｎｔｅｄ               ａｔ               ｏｎｃｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｖａｓｔａｔｉｎｇ               ｔｒａｎｓｉｅｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｈｕｍａｎ               ｌｉｆｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｆｆｅｃｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｓｓａｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｅｘｅｒｔｓ               ｏｎ               ｕｓ               ａｌｌ.                Ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               Ｓｈｏｒｔ               Ｓｐａｃｅ               ｏｆ               Ｔｉｍｅ                Ｉ               ｌｏｖｅ...ｎｏｔ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｔｈｏｓｅ...                Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｈｅｎ,                               Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｏｓｅ...                Ｗｈｏ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｙｏｕｎｇ                               Ｂａｃｋ               ｔｈｅｎ,                               Ｂｕｔ               ｗｈｏ'ｖｅ               ｓｉｎｃｅ                               Ｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｇｒｉｅｆ,               ｗｈｏ...                Ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｓｏａｒｅｄ               ｓｏ               ｈｉｇｈ,                               Ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ                               Ｃｏｎｓｅｑｕｅｎｔ               ｄｅｓｃｅｎｔ                               Ｔｏｏ               ｄｒｅａｄｆｕｌ               ｔｏ               ｂｅａｒ,                               Ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ｐａｓｔ               ｉｔｓｅｌｆ,                               Ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎｌｙ                               Ｙｅｓｔｅｒｄａｙ,                               Ｎｏ...ｅｖｅｎ               ｌｅｓｓ               ｔｉｍｅ...                Ａ               ｍｏｍｅｎｔ               ａｇｏ,                               Ａｎｄ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｐｌａｙ                               Ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               1975,                               Ｓｏｕｌ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ,                               Ｇｌａｍ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ,                               Ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓｉｖｅ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ,                               Ｔｗｅｎｔｙ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｍｅｌｔ               ａｗａｙ                               Ｉｎｔｏ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇｎｅｓｓ...                Ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｔｗｅｎｔｙ-ｙｅａｒ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ?                Ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ                               Ａ               ｂｌｉｎｋ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               ｅｙｅ...                Ｈｏｗ               ｃｏｕｌｄ                               Ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｓｐａｃｅ                               Ｏｆ               ｔｉｍｅ                               Ｃａｕｓｅ               ｓｕｃｈ               ｄｅｖａｓｔａｔｉｏｎ?                Ｄｉｓｐｅｒｓａｌｓ               ａｎｄ               Ｂｅｇｉｎｎｉｎｇｓ                Ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｍｏｎｔｈｓ               ｌａｔｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒｏｕｂｌｅｄ,               ｔｕｒｂｕｌｅｎｔ               20ｔｈ               Ｃｅｎｔｕｒｙ               ｇａｖｅ               ｗａｙ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               21ｓｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｏｕｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｆｉｒｅｗｏｒｋｓ               ｆｒａｎｔｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｅｘｐｌｏｄｉｎｇ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈｏｕｔ               ｍｙ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｕｒｈｏｏｄ.                Ｐｈｏｎｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｆａｔｈｅｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｎｉｇｈｔ               ｔｏ               ｗｉｓｈ               ｈｉｍ               ａ               ｈａｐｐｙ               ｎｅｗ               ｙｅａｒ,               Ｉ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｓｐｅｒａｔｅｌｙ               ｉｌｌ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｆｌｕ. Ｉｔ'ｓ               ｃｒｏｓｓｅｄ               ｍｙ               ｍｉｎｄ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｍａｙ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｓｕｓｃｅｐｔｉｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｌｕ               ｖｉｒｕｓ               ｐａｒｔｌｙ               ａｓ               ａ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔ               ｏｆ               ｓｔｒｅｓｓ               ｃａｕｓｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｌａｔｔｅｒｌｙ               ｑｕｉｔ               ｙｅｔ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ;               ｔｈｉｓ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｎ               ＭＡ               ｉｎ               Ｆｒｅｎｃｈ               ａｎｄ               Ｔｈｅｏｒｙ               ｏｆ               Ｌｉｔｅｒａｔｕｒｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｕｎｉｖｅｒｓｉｔｙ               Ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ,               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ. Ｉｎ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈ,               ｈｅｒ               ｉｎｃｒｅｄｉｂｌｅ               Ｓｃｏｔｓ-Ｉｒｉｓｈ               ｃｏｎｓｔｉｔｕｔｉｏｎ               ｓａｗ               ｈｅｒ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｅ               ｒｅｃｏｖｅｒｙ.                Ｉ'ｄ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ               ｍａｇｎｅｔｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｃｏｍｐｅｌｌｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ａｎ               ｉｎｔｅｌｌｅｃｔｕａｌ               ｌｅｖｅｌ,               ｄｅｓｐｉｔｅ               ａｎ               ａｗａｒｅｎｅｓｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｒｉｔｉｎｇ               ｅｘｔｅｎｓｉｖｅｌｙ               ａｂｏｕｔ               Ｌｉｔｅｒａｒｙ               Ｔｈｅｏｒｙ               ｍｉｇｈｔ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｄｉｓｔｕｒｂ               ｍｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｃｈａｌｌｅｎｇｅ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｆａｉｔｈ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｅｖｅｎｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｗｉｔｈｄｒｅｗ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｐｒｏｖｉｓｉｏｎａｌ               ｂａｓｉｓ. Ｉｔ'ｓ               ａ               ｄｅｃｉｓｉｏｎ               ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ｈａｕｎｔｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｓｉｎｃｅ.                Ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｔｔｅｎｄｉｎｇ               ａ               ｓａｔｅｌｌｉｔｅ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｏｆ               Ｋｅｎｓｉｎｇｔｏｎ               Ｔｅｍｐｌｅ,               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｒｉｔｉｓｈ-ｂａｓｅｄ               Ｅｌｉｍ               Ｐｅｎｔｅｃｏｓｔａｌ               ｍｏｖｅｍｅｎｔ,               ｆｏｕｎｄｅｄ               ｂｙ               Ｗｅｌｓｈ               ｅｖａｎｇｅｌｉｓｔ               Ｇｅｏｒｇｅ               Ｊｅｆｆｒｉｅｓ               ｉｎ               1915. Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｐｌａｙｉｎｇ               ｇｕｉｔａｒ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅｍ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｕｒｇｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄ               Ｍａｒｔｉｎａ,               Ｒｕｓｓｉａｎ               ｗｉｆｅ               ｏｆ               Ｐａｓｔｏｒ               Ｐｈｉｌ               ｏｆ               Ｎｅｗ               Ｙｏｒｋ               Ｃｉｔｙ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               Ｐｈｉｌ               ｗｈｏ'ｄ               ｇｏｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｏｕｃｈ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ＫＴ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｊｏｉｎｉｎｇ               ａ               ｃｅｌｌ               ｇｒｏｕｐ               ａｔ               ｈｉｓ               ｈｏｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｕｒｒｅｙ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂｓ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｅｖｅｎｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｍｕｔａｔｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               Ｌｉｂｅｒｔｙ,               ｗｉｔｈ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｆｏｒｇｅｄ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｔｉｅｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｕｔｓｅｔ,               ｅｓｐｅｃｉａｌｌｙ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｐｈｉｌ               ａｎｄ               Ｍａｒｔｉｎａ,               ａｎｄ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｗｏｒｓｈｉｐ               ｌｅａｄｅｒ,               Ｍａｒｉａ,               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｐｅｒｕ.                Ｔｈｅｎ,               ｓｈｏｒｔｌｙ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ａｇｒｅｅｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               Ｌｉｂｅｒｔｙ'ｓ               ｌｏｎｅ               ｍｕｓｉｃｉａｎ,               Ｉ               ｑｕｉｔ               ｍｙ               ｐｏｓｉｔｉｏｎ               ａｓ               ａ               ｔｅｌｅｐｈｏｎｅ               ｃａｎｖａｓｓｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               ａｎ               ｅ-ｃｏｍｍｅｒｃｅ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｂａｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               Ｓｕｒｂｉｔｏｎ,               Ｓｕｒｒｅｙ,               ｔｈｕｓ               ｂｒｉｎｇｉｎｇ               ａ               ｆａｉｒｌｙ               ｌｅｎｇｔｈｙ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ               ｓｐｅｎｔ               ａｓ               ａｎ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ               ｗｏｒｋｅｒ               ｔｏ               ａｎ               ｅｎｄ.                Ａ               ｃｈａｎｇｅ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｐｒｏｆｅｓｓｉｏｎａｌ               ｆｏｒｔｕｎｅｓ               ｃａｍｅ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｍａｓ,               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｍａｄｅ               ｌｅａｄ               ｓｉｎｇｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               Ｎｕａｇｅｓ,               ａ               Ｓｗｉｎｇ               ｂａｎｄ               ｎａｍｅｄ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｓｔｒｕｍｅｎｔａｌ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｒｅａｔ               Ｆｒｅｎｃｈ               Ｊａｚｚ               ｇｕｉｔａｒｉｓｔ               Ｄｊａｎｇｏ               Ｒｅｉｎｈａｒｄ. Ｗｅ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｃｕｔ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｆｉｎｅ               ｄｅｍｏｓ               ａｒｒａｎｇｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｂａｎｄ               ｌｅａｄｅｒ               Ｂｒｕｃｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｄｅｓｅｒｖｅｄ...ｇｉｖｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｅａｌｔｈ               ｏｆ               ｔａｌｅｎｔ               ｉｎｖｏｌｖｅｄ.                Ｉｎ               ｅａｒｌｙ               '01,               Ｐａｓｔｏｒ               Ｐｈｉｌ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｉｓｓｏｌｖｅ               Ｌｉｂｅｒｔｙ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｓａｄ               ｅｖｅｎｔ               ｆｏｒ               ａｌｌ               ｏｆ               ｕｓ,               ｓｏ               Ｉ               ｍａｄｅ               ｙｅｔ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｔｏ               Ｃｏｒｎｅｒｓｔｏｎｅ,               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｊｏｉｎｅｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｂｙ               Ｍａｒｉａ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｃｏｕｐｌｅ               ｏｆ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ＬＣＣ. Ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｍｅ               ｔｉｍｅ,               Ｉ               ｔｏｏｋ               ａ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ               ａｔ               ｍｙ               ｌｏｃａｌ               ａｄｕｌｔ               ｅｄｕｃａｔｉｏｎ               ｃｅｎｔｒｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｃａｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｉｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｅｒｍｓ               ｏｆ               ｅｍｐｌｏｙｍｅｎｔ. Ｔｈｅｎ,               ｔｈｅ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ,               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｋｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               2002               Ｓｈｅｌｔｏｎ               Ａｒｔｓ               Ｆｅｓｔｉｖａｌ,               Ｎｕａｇｅｓ               ｄｉｓｂａｎｄｅｄ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｒｅａｌ               ｓｈａｍｅ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｗｅ'ｄ               ｆｉｎａｌｌｙ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ａｕｄｉｅｎｃｅ               ｗｅ'ｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｓｅａｒｃｈｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ａｌｌ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｅｓｔｉｖａｌ,               ｅｖｉｄｅｎｃｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｓｓｉｏｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｏｕｒ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍａｎｃｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｇｒｅｅｔｅｄ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｄａｙ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｏｕｒ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｓｈｏｗ,               Ｉ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｗｏｒｋｉｎｇ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｈｏｍｅ               ｍａｋｉｎｇ               ａｐｐｏｉｎｔｍｅｎｔｓ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｔｒａｖｅｌｌｉｎｇ               ｓａｌｅｓｍａｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｗａｓ               ｂｒｉｅｆｌｙ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓｆｕｌ               ａｔ               ｉｔ,               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｔａｉｌｉｎｇ               ｏｆｆ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ａｕｔｕｍｎ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｌｅｔ               ｇｏ. Ｂｙ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｌｅｆｔ               Ｃｏｒｎｅｒｓｔｏｎｅ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｍａｄｅ               ａ               ｇｏｏｄ               ｍａｎｙ               ｓｕｂｓｅｑｕｅｎｔ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｓ.                Ｔｈｉｓ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎ               ｅｘｉｔ               ｃａｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｃｏｎｓｅｑｕｅｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｄｅｓｉｒｅ               ｂｏｒｎ               ｏｆ               ｉｎｔｅｎｓｉｖｅ               ｉｎｔｅｒｎｅｔ               ｒｅｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅｋ               ｏｕｔ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ               ｅｘｉｓｔｉｎｇ               ｂｅｙｏｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｅｎｔｅｃｏｓｔａｌ/Ｃｈａｒｉｓｍａｔｉｃ               ｆｏｌｄ,               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               Ｃｅｓｓａｔｉｏｎｉｓｔ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｓ               ｔｏ               ｓａｙ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ａｃｃｅｐｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｓｐｅｃｔａｃｕｌａｒ               Ｇｉｆｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｈｏｌｙ               Ｓｐｉｒｉｔ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａｓ               Ｔｏｎｇｕｅｓ               ａｎｄ               Ｐｒｏｐｈｅｃｙ               ａｒｅ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｉｎ               ｏｐｅｒａｔｉｏｎ. Ｕｐ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｔｈｅｎ,               ａｎｙ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｔｈａｔ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｅｎｃｏｕｒａｇｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｅａｋｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｔｏｎｇｕｅｓ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｒｅｃｏｇｎｉｓｅｄ               ａｓ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｔｒｕｌｙ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ. Ｔｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｓｅ               ｔｏｄａｙ.                Ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｍａｉｎ               ｉｎｓｐｉｒａｔｉｏｎｓ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ               ｏｆ               ｗａｎｄｅｒｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｅｓｓａｔｉｏｎｉｓｔ               Ｓｅｒｍｏｎ               Ａｕｄｉｏ               ｗｅｂｓｉｔｅ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｄｏｗｎｌｏａｄｅｄ               ｓｏ               ｍａｎｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｓｅｒｍｏｎｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒ               ｍａｙ               ｈａｖｅ               ｃｒａｓｈｅｄ               ａｓ               ａ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔ. Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｌｓｏ               ｉｎｓｐｉｒｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｎｙ               ｏｎｌｉｎｅ               Ｄｉｓｃｅｒｎｍｅｎｔ               Ｍｉｎｉｓｔｒｉｅｓ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｎｏｔ               ａｌｌ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               -               ｏｒ               ａｒｅ               -               Ｃｅｓｓａｔｉｏｎｉｓｔ,               ａｎｄ               ａｍｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ               Ｉ               ｖｉｓｉｔｅｄ               ｗｅｒｅ               Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ               Ｂａｐｔｉｓｔ               (Ｗｉｍｂｌｅｄｏｎ),               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               (Ｔｅｄｄｉｎｇｔｏｎ),               ａｎｄ               Ｄｕｋｅ               Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ,               (Ｒｉｃｈｍｏｎｄ),               ａｌｌ               ｌｏｃａｔｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｌｅａｓａｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ａｆｆｌｕｅｎｔ               ｏｕｔｅｒ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂｓ               ｏｆ               Ｓｏｕｔｈ               Ｗｅｓｔ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ.                Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ               ｉｓ               ａｎ               Ｉｎｄｅｐｅｎｄｅｎｔ               Ｆｕｎｄａｍｅｎｔａｌｉｓｔ               Ｂａｐｔｉｓｔ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｂａｓｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ＵＳ               ｍｏｄｅｌ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅｆｏｒｅ               ｕｓｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               Ｋｉｎｇ               Ｊａｍｅｓ               Ｖｅｒｓｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ               ｏｎｌｙ. Ｉ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               -               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｙ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓｉｖｅ               -               ｓｅｒｖｉｃｅｓ               ａｔ               Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ,               ａｎｄ               ｆｕｌｌｙ               ｉｎｔｅｎｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｆｏｕｒｔｈ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               ｗｉｔｎｅｓｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｅａｃｈｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               Ｓｅｒｍｏｎ               Ａｕｄｉｏ               ｆａｖｏｕｒｉｔｅ               Ｄａｖｉｄ               Ｃｌｏｕｄ               ｏｆ               Ｗａｙ               ｏｆ               Ｌｉｆｅ               Ｍｉｎｉｓｔｒｉｅｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｄｉｄ. Ｗｈａｔ               ｈａｐｐｅｎｅｄ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｈｅｌｄ               ｕｐ               ａｔ               Ｗｉｍｂｌｅｄｏｎ               Ｂｒｉｔｉｓｈ               Ｒａｉｌ               ｓｔａｔｉｏｎ               ｆｏｒ               ｏｖｅｒ               ａｎ               ｈｏｕｒ               ｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｆｉｎａｌ               Ｓｕｎｄａｙ               ａｔ               Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｍａｙ               ｈａｖｅ               ｐｕｔ               ｍｅ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｒａｖｅｌｌｉｎｇ               ｂｙ               ｔｒａｉｎ               ｔｏ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｌｓｏ               ｔｉｒｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｎｓｔａｎｔ               ｎｅｗ               ｂｏｙ               ｓｔａｔｕｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｖｅｔｅｒａｔｅ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ-ｈｏｐｐｅｒ.                Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｉｓ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｆｒｅｅ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｏｆ               Ｅｎｇｌａｎｄ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｓｅｐａｒａｔｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｓｔａｂｌｉｓｈｅｄ               Ｃ               ｏｆ               Ｅ               ｉｎ               1844               ｉｎ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｈｉｇｈ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｔｈｅｏｌｏｇｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｅｎ               Ｂｉｓｈｏｐ               ｏｆ               Ｅｘｅｔｅｒ,               Ｈｅｎｒｙ               Ｐｈｉｌｌｐｏｔｔｓ. Ｔｈｅ               Ｆｒｅｅ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｉｓ               Ｅｖａｎｇｅｌｉｃａｌ,               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ               ａｓ               ｌｉｔｕｒｇｉｃａｌ               ａｎｄ               Ｅｐｉｓｃｏｐａｌ,               ａｎｄ               ｉｔｓ               ｍｅｍｂｅｒ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ               ａｄｈｅｒｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｏｃｔｒｉｎｅｓ               ｏｆ               Ｇｒａｃｅ,               ａｌｓｏ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｖｅ               ｐｏｉｎｔｓ               ｏｆ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｍ. Ｔｈｅｓｅ               ａｒｅ               Ｔｏｔａｌ               Ｄｅｐｒａｖｉｔｙ,               Ｕｎｃｏｎｄｉｔｉｏｎａｌ               Ｅｌｅｃｔｉｏｎ,               Ｌｉｍｉｔｅｄ               Ａｔｏｎｅｍｅｎｔ,               Ｉｒｒｅｓｉｓｔｉｂｌｅ               Ｇｒａｃｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｅｒｓｅｖｅｒａｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓａｉｎｔｓ.                Ａｃｃｏｒｄｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｍ,               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｗｈｏ               ｆｏｒｍ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｅｌｅｃｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｐｒｅｄｅｓｔｉｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｓａｌｖａｔｉｏｎ               ｂｙ               Ｇｏｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｎｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｃａｎ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｓａｖｉｎｇ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｏｗｎ               ｆｒｅｅ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｄｕｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｏｔａｌ               ｄｅｐｒａｖｉｔｙ.                Ｄｕｋｅ               Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               ｉｓ               ａｌｓｏ               ａ               Ｇｒａｃｅ               ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐ;               ｗｈｉｌｅ               Ｂｅｔｈｅｌ               ｉｓ               Ｆｒｅｅ               Ｗｉｌｌ. Ａｓ               ａ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔ,               ｍａｎｙ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｔｓ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｄｅｓｃｒｉｂｅ               ｉｔ               ａｓ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉａｎ,               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｕｔｃｈ               ｔｈｅｏｌｏｇｉａｎ               Ｊａｃｏｂｕｓ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉｕｓ               ｗｈｏ               ｅｍｐｈａｓｉｚｅｄ               ｆｒｅｅ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｉｔ               ｃｏｍｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｄｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｇｏｓｐｅｌ. Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｎｏｔ,               ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               ｂｅ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅｌｙ               ａｃｃｕｒａｔｅ               ｉｎ               ｄｏｉｎｇ               ｓｏ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｔｒｕｅ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉａｎｓ               ｍａｉｎｔａｉｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓａｌｖａｔｉｏｎ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｌｏｓｔ,               ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               ＩＦＢ               ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐｓ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｃｔｒｉｎｅ               ｏｆ               Ｏｎｃｅ               Ｓａｖｅｄ               Ａｌｗａｙｓ               Ｓａｖｅｄ. Ｉｎ               ｓｈｏｒｔ,               ｔｈｅｙ               ａｒｅ               ｎｅｉｔｈｅｒ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｔ               ｎｏｒ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉａｎ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｓ               ａｎ               ｏｘｙｍｏｒｏｎｉｃ               ｓｔａｔｅｍｅｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｓｏｍｅ.                Ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ,               ａｌｌ               ｔｒｕｅ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅｒｓ               ａｒｅ               ｕｎｉｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｃｌｅａｒ               ａｄｈｅｒｅｎｃｅ               ｔｏ               ｃｅｒｔａｉｎ               ｋｅｙ               ｄｏｃｔｒｉｎｅｓ               ｆｏｒｍｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｓｉｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｔｒｕｅ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｎｏ               ｓａｌｖａｔｉｏｎ,               ｅｖｅｎ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｍａｙ               ｂｅ               ｄｉｖｉｄｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｎｏｎ-ｓａｖｉｎｇ               ｉｎｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａｌｓ,               ｏｒ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄａｒｙ               ｔｒｕｔｈｓ. Ｆｏｒ               ｅｘａｍｐｌｅ,               ｗｈｉｌｅ               Ｉ'ｍ               ａｎ               ｕｐｈｏｌｄｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｂａｐｔｉｓｍ               ｂｙ               ｆｕｌｌ               ｉｍｍｅｒｓｉｏｎ,               Ｉ               ｃｅｒｔａｉｎｌｙ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ａｄｈｅｒｅｎｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｉｎｆａｎｔ               ｂａｐｔｉｓｍ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｈｅｒｅｔｉｃｓ,               ａｔ               ｌｅａｓｔ               ｎｏｔ               ａｕｔｏｍａｔｉｃａｌｌｙ. Ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｈａｎｄ,               Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ａ               ｒｅａｌ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｗｈｏ               ｍａｉｎｔａｉｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ａ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｂｅ               ｂａｐｔｉｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｏｒｄｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｓａｖｅｄ,               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ               ｍａｋｅｓ               ｉｔ               ｃｌｅａｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｅ               ａｒｅ               ｓａｖｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ａｌｏｎｅ. Ｔｈａｔ               ｓａｉｄ,               ｅｖｅｒｙ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｂａｐｔｉｓｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｆｕｌｌ               ｉｍｍｅｒｓｉｏｎ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               Ｇｏｄ               ｃｏｍｍａｎｄｓ               ｉｔ,               ａｎｄ               Ｇｏｄ               ｕｒｇｅｓ               ｕｓ               ｔｏ               ｋｅｅｐ               ｈｉｓ               ｃｏｍｍａｎｄｍｅｎｔｓ.                Ａｌｓｏ,               ｗｈｉｌｅ               Ｉ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ'ｓ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｂｅ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｌｉｔｅｒａｌ               ｔｈｏｕｓａｎｄ               ｙｅａｒ               ｒｅｉｇｎ               ｏｎ               ｅａｒｔｈ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｍａｋｅｓ               ｍｅ               ａ               ｐｒｅｍｉｌｌｅｎｎｉａｌｉｓｔ,               ａ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ               ｃａｎ               ｉｎｓｉｓｔ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               ｗｏｎ'ｔ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｌｌｅｎｎｉｕｍ,               ｏｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｌｌｅｎｎｉｕｍ               ｌｉｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｓｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｂｅ               ａ               ｓａｖｅｄ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ. Ｗｈａｔ               ａｒｅ               ａｔ               ｉｓｓｕｅ               ｈｅｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ｊｕｓｔｉｆｉａｂｌｅ               ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｃｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｓｃｒｉｐｔｕｒａｌ               ｉｎｔｅｒｐｒｅｔａｔｉｏｎ.                Ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               2003,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｍｙ               ｙｅａｒ               ｏｆ               ｒｅｌｅｎｔｌｅｓｓ               ｉｎｔｅｒｎｅｔ               ｒｅｓｅａｒｃｈ,               Ｉ'ｄ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｔｏ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｎｅｒ               ｐｏｉｎｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｆａｉｔｈ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｆａｉｒｌｙ               ｗｅｌｌ               ｖｅｒｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｂｊｅｃｔ               ｏｆ               ｐｒｏｐｈｅｃｙ               ｔｈａｎｋｓ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｉｎｔｒｏｄｕｃｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｅａｒｌｙ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｂｙ               Ｓｐｅｎｃｅｒ               ａｎｄ               Ｇｒａｃｅ,               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓ               ｍａｇａｚｉｎｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｂｏｏｋｓ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａｓ               "Ｐｒｏｐｈｅｃｙ               Ｔｏｄａｙ"               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｋｓ               ｏｆ               Ｂａｒｒｙ               Ｒ               Ｓｍｉｔｈ.                Ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｍｅ               ｔｉｍｅ,               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｎｏ               ｃｌｕｅ               ｗｈａｔｓｏｅｖｅｒ               ａｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｅａｎｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               Ｃａｌｖｉｎｉｓｍ               ｏｒ               Ａｒｍｉｎｉａｎｉｓｍ,               Ｐｒｅｄｅｓｔｉｎａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｒ               Ｆｏｒｅｋｎｏｗｌｅｄｇｅ,               Ｃｅｓｓａｔｉｏｎｉｓｍ               ｏｒ               Ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕａｔｉｏｎｉｓｍ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               ｏｎ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ａｆｆｅｃｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔａｔｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｓｏｕｌ,               ｉｎ               ｆａｃｔ,               ｎｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｉｓ               ｅｉｔｈｅｒ               ｓａｖｅｄ               ｏｒ               ｄａｍｎｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｉｎｇ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｄｉｓｔｉｎｃｔｉｏｎｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｂｙ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ａｌｏｎｅ,               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｒｕｅ               ｓａｖｉｎｇ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｒｕｉｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｒｅｐｅｎｔａｎｃｅ.                Ｎｏ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｈａｓ               ａ               ｐｅｒｆｅｃｔ               ｋｎｏｗｌｅｄｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒｕｔｈ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｕｎｉｔｙ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ               Ｅｖａｎｇｅｌｉｃａｌｓ               ａｄｈｅｒｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｕｎｄａｍｅｎｔａｌｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｉｔｈ,               ｉｒｒｅｓｐｅｃｔｉｖｅ               ｏｆ               ｗｈａｔ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｃｈｏｏｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｗｏｒｓｈｉｐ               ｉｎ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｃａｎ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｂｅ               ａｃｈｉｅｖｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｐｅｎｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｃｏｍｐｒｏｍｉｓｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｕｒｅ               Ｗｏｒｄ               ｏｆ               Ｇｏｄ.                Ｆｏｒ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｔａｌｋ               ｏｆ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈｅｓ...ｉｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒｕｔｈ               ｂｅ               ｋｎｏｗｎ,               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｎｏｔ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｓｅｔｔｌｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈｉｎ               ａ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               2001,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｐｏｉｎｔｓ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｄｅｅｐ               ｉｎｎｅｒ               ｔｕｒｂｕｌｅｎｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｈａｖｅｎ'ｔ               ｍａｎａｇｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｎｄ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｉｔ               ｍａｙ               ｂｅ               ａｔ               ｌｅａｓｔ               ｐａｒｔｌｙ               ａｔｔｒｉｂｕｔａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ａｃｃｅｐｔｅｄ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               ｒｅｌａｔｉｖｅｌｙ               ｌａｔｅ. Ａｆｔｅｒ               ａｌｌ,               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ               ｍａｋｅｓ               ｉｔ               ｃｌｅａｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｅａｃｈ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ               ｗｈｏ               ｒｅｊｅｃｔｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｏｖｅｒｅｉｇｎｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｌｅｓｈｌｙ               ｒｅａｌｍ               ｆｏｒ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ'ｓ               ｓａｋｅ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｉｎｃｅｓｓａｎｔ               ｔｒｉｂｕｌａｔｉｏｎ               ａｎｄ               ｐｅｒｓｅｃｕｔｉｏｎ. Ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｓ               ｅｓｐｅｃｉａｌｌｙ               ｔｒｕｅ               ｏｆ               ｒｅｐｅｎｔａｎｔ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎｓ               ｗｈｏ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｆａｉｔｈ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ               ａ               ｒｅｌａｔｉｖｅｌｙ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｗｉｔｈｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｃａｄｅｎｔ               ｈｅａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ               ａｓ               ａｖｉｄ               ｆｌｕｎｋｉｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｆｌｅｓｈ.                Ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               ａｓ               ｃｏｍｆｏｒｔ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｌａｔｅ               ｃｏｎｖｅｒｔｓ               ｈａｖｅ               ａ               ｔｒｕｅ               ａｎｄ               ｉｎｆｉｎｉｔｅｌｙ               ｗｏｒｔｈｗｈｉｌｅ               ｐｕｒｐｏｓｅ               ｉｎ               ｌｉｆｅ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｓ               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｃｏｎｓｔａｎｔｌｙ               ｅｓｃａｐｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｙｏｕｔｈ,               ｆｏｒ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｅｒｃｅ,               ｆｌａｍｉｎｇ               ｆａｎａｔｉｃｉｓｍ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｂｅｌｉｅｆｓ               ａｎｄ               ｉｄｅａｌｓ.                Ｉｎ               ｍａｎｙ               ｗａｙｓ,               ｔｈｏｕｇｈ,               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｍｙ               ｏｗｎ               ｗｏｒｓｔ               ｅｎｅｍｙ. Ｏｎｅ               ｂｙ               ｏｎｅ               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｌａｙ               ｅｖｉｌ               ｈａｂｉｔｓ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｍｙ               ｐｒｅ-Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｅｘｉｓｔｅｎｃｅ. Ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｅａｒｌｙ               ｄａｙｓ               ａｓ               ａ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ,               ｆｏｒ               ｉｎｓｔａｎｃｅ,               Ｉ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｅｎｔｅｒｔａｉｎｅｄ               ａ               ｆｉｘａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｃｃｕｌｔ,               ａｌｂｅｉｔ               ｆｒｏｍ               ａ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｐｅｒｓｐｅｃｔｉｖｅ. Ｎｏｗ               Ｉ               ｃａｎ               ｂａｒｅｌｙ               ｓｔａｎｄ               ｔｏ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｔ               ｐａｇｅｓ               ｆｉｌｌｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｃｃｕｌｔ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ａｎｄ               ｓｙｍｂｏｌｓ. Ｍｏｓｔ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔｌｙ,               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ａｄｄｒｅｓｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｔｔｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｄｒｅｓｓ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｍａｙ               ｎｏｔ               ｓｅｅｍ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｓｏｍｅ               -               Ｇｏｄ               ｌｏｏｋｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｅａｒｔ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ａｌｌ               -               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｄｉｓａｇｒｅｅ.                Ｆｏｒ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｄｅｃａｄｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｏｒ               ｌｅｓｓ               ａｄｄｉｃｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｓｉｇｎｅｒ               ｓｐｏｒｔｓｗｅａｒ,               ａｎｄ               ａｍｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｂｊｅｃｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｌｏｖｅ               ａｆｆａｉｒ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｓｈａｄｙ               ｂａｓｅｂａｌｌ               ｃａｐｓ,               ｓｗｅａｔ               ｔｏｐｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍａｓｓｉｖｅ               ｌｏｇｏｓ,               ｆｌａｓｈｙ               ｓｔｒｉｐｅｄ               ｔｒａｋｋｉｅ               Ｂｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｃｈｕｎｋｙ               ｂｒａｎｄｅｄ               ｔｒａｉｎｅｒｓ...ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｗｏｒｅ               ａｎ               ｅａｒｒｉｎｇ               ｔｏｏ,               ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｈａｄ               ｍｙ               ｅａｒ               ｐｉｅｒｃｅｄ               ｉｎ               1979. Ｓｏｍｅ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎｓ               ａｓｓｏｃｉａｔｅ               ｅａｒｒｉｎｇｓ               ｏｎ               ｍｅｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｎｃｉｅｎｔ               ｐａｇａｎ               ｉｄｏｌａｔｒｙ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｐｅｃｉｆｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｏｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｅｎｓｌａｖｅｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍａｋｅｓ               ｇｏｏｄ               ｓｅｎｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ. Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔｌｙ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｒｅａｌｉｓｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｆ               ａ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ'ｓ               ｏｕｔｅｒ               ａｐｐｅａｒａｎｃｅ               ｆａｉｌｓ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｆｌｅｃｔ               ａ               ｃｈａｎｇｅｄ               ｌｉｆｅ,               ｈｅ               ｍａｙ               ｂｅ               ｃｈｅａｔｉｎｇ               ｏｔｈｅｒｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈａｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｈｉｍ. Ｈｅ               ｗｉｌｌ               ａｌｓｏ               ｂｅ               ｃｈｅａｔｉｎｇ               ｈｉｍｓｅｌｆ               ｏｆ               ｒｅｓｐｅｃｔ,               ａｎｄ               Ｇｏｄ               ｏｆ               ｐｏｔｅｎｔｉａｌ               ｃｏｎｖｅｒｔｓ. Ｉｎ               ｓｈｏｒｔ,               Ｉ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｉｔ'ｓ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               Ｉ               ｐｒｏｆｅｓｓ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ. Ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｔｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｍｉｇｈｔ               ａｃｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｓｔａｒｔ               ａｃｔｉｎｇ               ｌｉｋｅ               ａ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ               ｗｏｒｔｈｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｎａｍｅ.                Ａ               Ｆｉｎａｌ               Ｄｉｓｔａｎｔ               Ｃｌａｒｉｏｎ               Ｃｒｙ                Ｉｎ               ａ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ               ｓｅｎｓｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｙｅａｒ               2000               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｔｕｒｎｉｎｇ               ｐｏｉｎｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ,               ｎｏｔ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｓｐｉｒｉｔｕａｌｌｙ,               ｂｕｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｅｒｍｓ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｉｔｙ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｈａｓ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｉｎｗａｒｄ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ,               ｅｖｅｎ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔａｎｄａｒｄｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓ               ｓｅｖｅｎ               ｙｅａｒｓ. Ｓｉｇｎｉｆｉｃａｎｔｌｙ               ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ,               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓ               ｙｅａｒ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               17               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｆａｃｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ｈａｉｒ               ｉｔｓ               ｎａｔｕｒａｌ               ｍｅｄｉｕｍ               ｂｒｏｗｎ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｄｙｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｎｅａｒｌｙ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｄｅｃａｄｅｓ.                Ｗｈａｔ               ｐｒｏｍｐｔｅｄ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｔ               ａ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎ               ｌｏａｔｈｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｖａｎｉｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏｔｔｌｅ               ｂｌｏｎｄ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｅｒｏｘｉｄｅ-ｂａｓｅｄ               ｓｔｒｅａｋｉｎｇ               ｋｉｔｓ               Ｉ               ｆａｖｏｕｒｅｄ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｃａｕｓｉｎｇ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｒｅａｔｈｉｎｇ               ｄｉｆｆｉｃｕｌｔｉｅｓ. Ａｔ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               Ｉ               ｍｉｓｓｅｄ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｂｌｏｎｄ,               ｂｕｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ               ｃａｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｐｒｅｆｅｒ               ｍｙ               ｎａｔｕｒａｌ               ｃｏｌｏｕｒ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｏｆ               ｙｏｕｔｈｆｕｌ               ｂｌｏｎｄ               ａｎｄｒｏｇｙｎｙ. Ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｉｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈｏｕｔ               ｍｙ               ｔｗｅｎｔｉｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｔｈｉｒｔｉｅｓ,               Ｉ               ｒｅｍａｉｎｅｄ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｓｔａｔｅ               ｏｆ               ｅｘｔｅｎｄｅｄ               ａｄｏｌｅｓｃｅｎｃｅ,               ｂｌｏｎｄ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｎａｔｕｒａｌ               ｃｏｌｏｕｒ               ｏｆ               ｅｔｅｒｎａｌ               ｙｏｕｔｈ.                Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｅｌｉｃｉｔｅｄ               ａ               ｌｏｔ               ｏｆ               ａｄｍｉｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｆｏｒ               ａｔｔｅｍｐｔｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔａｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｍａｎｔｉｃ               ｂｏｈｅｍｉａｎ               ｒｅｂｅｌ               ｅｘｉｓｔｅｎｃｅ               ｔｏ               ｉｔｓ               ｌｏｇｉｃａｌ               ｃｏｎｃｌｕｓｉｏｎ               ｗｈｅｎ               ａｌｌ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｍｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｃｏｎｆｏｒｍｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ａ               ｆｕｒｉｏｕｓ               ｒａｔｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｄｏ. Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｉｃｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｄｏｉｎｇ               ｓｏ               ｈａｓ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｈｉｇｈ,               ｉｎ               ｔｅｒｍｓ               ｏｆ               ｓｏｃｉａｌ               ａｎｄ               ｆｉｎａｎｃｉａｌ               ｍｏｒｔｉｆｉｃａｔｉｏｎ,               ｆｏｒ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｎｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｔｏ               ｂｌａｍｅ               ｂｕｔ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ. Ｉｆ               Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ｔｈｅｙ'ｄ               ｌｉｓｔｅｎ,               Ｉ'ｄ               ｔｅｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｙｏｕｎｇ:               ｌｉｓｔｅｎ               ｔｏ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｐａｒｅｎｔｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｖｏｉｃｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｒｅｎｄｙ               ｒｅｂｅｌｌｉｏｎ,               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｔｈｅｙ'ｒｅ               ｔｒｙｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｐｒｏｔｅｃｔ               ｙｏｕ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｓｏｃｉａｌ               ｆａｉｌｕｒｅ,               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｋｎｏｗｌｅｄｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｈｏｗ               ｐａｉｎｆｕｌ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｂｅｙｏｎｄ               ａ               ｃｅｒｔａｉｎ               ａｇｅ.                Ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｗｏｒｓｈｉｐ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ａｌｔａｒ               ｏｆ               ｒｏｍａｎｔｉｃ               ｒｅｂｅｌｌｉｏｎ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅｙ'ｖｅ               ｄｏｎｅ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｉｍｍｅｍｏｒｉａｌ,               ｂｕｔ               ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｔｏ               ｎｏｔ               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｍｅ               ｅｘｔｅｎｔ               ａｓ               ｍｙ               ｏｗｎ               ｐｏｏｒ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｔｉｏｎ. Ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅｓ               ｗｈｏ               ｃａｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｍａｔｕｒｉｔｙ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｆｒｅｎｅｔｉｃ               Ｒｏｃｋ               ｓｏｕｎｄｔｒａｃｋ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔａｉｌ-ｓｐｉｎｎｉｎｇ               ｎｉｎｅｔｅｅｎ               ｓｉｘｔｉｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｈｏ               ｃａｎ               ｓａｙ               ｗｈａｔ               ｅｆｆｅｃｔ               ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｏｎ               ｕｓ,               ｔｈｉｓ               ｍｕｓｉｃ...ｔａｉｌｏｒ-ｍａｄｅ               ｔｏ               ｉｎｓｐｉｒｅ               ａ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｓｃｏｒｎｆｕｌ               ｏｆ               ｄｅｆｅｒｒｅｄ               ｇｒａｔｉｆｉｃａｔｉｏｎ,               ａ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｈｉｐｓｔｅｒｓ.                Ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               Ｒｏｃｋ               ｗａｓ               ｆａｒ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｍｅｒｅ               ｍｕｓｉｃ               ｆｏｒｍ...ｂｅｉｎｇ               ａ               ｔｏｔａｌ               ａｒｔ               ｉｎｖｏｌｖｉｎｇ               ｐｏｅｔｒｙ,               ｔｈｅａｔｒｅ,               ｆａｓｈｉｏｎ,               ｂｕｔ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｔｈａｔ...ａ               ｗａｙ               ｏｆ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｓｔｒｏｎｇ               ｓｐｉｒｉｔｕａｌ               ｆｏｕｎｄａｔｉｏｎ. Ｉｔ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｓａｉｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｔｓ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｔｒｕｅ               ａｎｃｅｓｔｏｒ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｒｅａｔ               19ｔｈ               Ｃｅｎｔｕｒｙ               ａｒｔｉｓｔｉｃ               ａｎｄ               ｃｕｌｔｕｒａｌ               ｍｏｖｅｍｅｎｔ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ａｓ               Ｒｏｍａｎｔｉｃｉｓｍ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｒｅａｃｈｅｄ               ａ               ｃｌｉｍａｘ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｎｉｅｔｚｓｃｈｅ,               ｗｈｏ               ｂｙ               ｄｅｃｌａｒｉｎｇ               Ｇｏｄ'ｓ               ｄｅａｔｈ,               ｃｌｅａｒｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｙ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｖｅｎｔｕａｌ               ｒｕｌｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               Ｄｏ               Ｙｏｕｒ               Ｏｗｎ               Ｔｈｉｎｇ               ｐｈｉｌｏｓｏｐｈｙ               ｓｏ               ｄｅａｒ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｅａｒｔ               ｏｆ               Ｒｏｃｋ               ａｎｄ               Ｒｏｌｌ               ｃｕｌｔｕｒｅ.                Ｃｏｎｖｉｎｃｅｄ               ｂｙ               2003               ｔｈａｔ               ｎｏ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ               ｃａｎ               ｃａｌｌ               ｔｈｅｍｓｅｌｖｅｓ               ａ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ａｎｄ               ｙｅｔ               ｌｉｓｔｅｎ               ｔｏ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               ｌｉｂｅｒｔｉｎｅ               ｍｕｓｉｃ               ａｓ               Ｒｏｃｋ,               Ｉ               ｍａｄｅ               ａｎ               ａｔｔｅｍｐｔ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｓｔｒｏｙ               ａｌｌ               ｔｒａｃｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｉｔ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｐｏｓｓｅｓｓｉｏｎ,               ｅｖｅｎ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｌｏｓｔ               ａｎｙ               ｒｅａｌ               ｔａｓｔｅ               ｆｏｒ               Ｈａｒｄ               Ｒｏｃｋ. Ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒ,               ｍｙ               ａｔｔｉｔｕｄｅ               ｈａｄ               ｍｅｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｔｅｎｔ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｆｅｌｔ               ａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｗｒｉｔｅ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ａｎ               ｈｏｕｒ'ｓ               ｗｏｒｔｈ               ｏｆ               Ｒｏｃｋ               ｓｏｎｇｓ               ｉｎ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｅ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｒｅｑｕｅｓｔ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｍｙ               ｄａｄ,               Ｐａｔ               Ｈａｌｌｉｎｇ,               ｆｏｒ               ｓｏｎｇｓ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ               ｃｏｌｌａｂｏｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｏｎ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄ. Ｙｅｔ,               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｓ               ｆａｒ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｈａｒｄ               Ｒｏｃｋ               ａｓ               ｉｔ'ｓ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ,               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｉｎｆｌｕｅｎｃｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｓｕｃｈ               ｒｅｌａｔｉｖｅｌｙ               ｂｅｎｉｇｎ               ａｎｄ               ｍｅｌｏｄｉｃ               ｇｅｎｒｅｓ               ａｓ               Ｆｏｌｋ,               Ｐｏｐ               ａｎｄ               Ｓｏｕｌ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｓｏｎｇｓ,               ｓｏｍｅ               ｎｅｗ,               ｓｏｍｅ               ｒｅ-ｗｏｒｋｉｎｇｓ               ｏｆ               ｏｌｄ               ｔｕｎｅｓ,               ｗｅｒｅ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｅｄ               ｏｎ               ａ               Ｓｏｎｙ               ＣＦＳ-Ｂ21Ｌ               ｃａｓｓｅｔｔｅ-ｃｏｒｄｅｒ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｈａｓ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｄｉｓｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｌｌｙ               ｗｅｌｌ-ｒｅｃｅｉｖｅｄ,               ｄｅｓｐｉｔｅ               ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｃｒｕｄｅｌｙ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｅｄ. Ｐａｔ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｓｏ               ｆａｒ               ａｓ               ｔｏ               ｓｕｇｇｅｓｔ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｐｒｏｐｅｒｌｙ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｓｔｕｄｉｏ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｈｉｇｈ               ｃｏｍｐｌｉｍｅｎｔ               ｉｎｄｅｅｄ,               ｇｉｖｅｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ｕｎｌｉｋｅ               ｍｅ,               ｈｅ'ｓ               ａ               ｔｒａｉｎｅｄ               ｍｕｓｉｃｉａｎ               ｗｈｏ'ｓ               ｂｅｅｎ               ａ               ｐｒｏｆｅｓｓｉｏｎａｌ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｔｈｅ               ａｇｅ               ｏｆ               9,               ｗｈｅｒｅ               Ｉ'ｍ               ｊｕｓｔ               ａ               ｐｒｉｍｉｔｉｖｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｎ               ｅａｒ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｃａｔｃｈｙ               ｔｕｎｅ.                Ａ               ｙｅａｒ               ｏｒ               ｓｏ               ｌａｔｅｒ,               ａ               ｐｒｏｊｅｃｔ               ｗａｓ               ｍｏｏｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               Ｐａｔ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｎｖｏｌｖｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               ａｌｂｕｍ               ｏｆ               Ｐｏｐ               ｓｔａｎｄａｒｄｓ               ｆｅａｔｕｒｉｎｇ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｒｍｏｎｉｃａ               ｇｅｎｉｕｓ               Ｊａｍｅｓ               Ｈｕｇｈｅｓ,               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ               ａｓ               Ｐａｔ'ｓ               ｏｗｎ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ               Ｓｗｉｎｇｔｅｔｔｅ. Ｉｎ               ｓｐｒｉｎｇ               2008,               ｔｈｅ               ＣＤ               ｗａｓ               ｆｉｎａｌｌｙ               ｒｅｌｅａｓｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｔｌｅ               "Ａ               Ｔａｓｔｅ               ｏｆ               Ｓｕｍｍｅｒ               Ｗｉｎｅ",               ｄｕｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｊｉｍ'ｓ               ｐｌａｙｉｎｇ               ｈａｄ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｆｅａｔｕｒｅｄ               ｏｎ               ａ               Ｂｒｉｔｉｓｈ               ｓｉｔｕａｔｉｏｎ               ｃｏｍｅｄｙ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               "Ｌａｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｕｍｍｅｒ               Ｗｉｎｅ". Ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒ               ｏｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｍａｎ               à               ｃｌｅｆ,               "Ｒｅｓｃｕｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               Ｒｏｃｋ               ａｎｄ               Ｒｏｌｌ               Ｃｈｉｌｄ",               ｌｏｏｋｓ               ｓｅｔ               ｔｏ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗ               ｓｕｉｔ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｆｏｕｒ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｏｆ               ｌａｂｏｕｒ               ａｎｄ               ｅｎｄｌｅｓｓ               ｒｅｗｒｉｔｅｓ.                Ａｓ               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｓｔａｔｅｄ               ｅｌｓｅｗｈｅｒｅ,               ｓｏｏｎ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ,               Ｉ               ｄｅｓｔｒｏｙｅｄ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｗｒｉｔｔｅｎ               ｕｐ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｔｈａｔ               ｐｏｉｎｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｗｒｏｔｅ               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｈａｐｐｉｌｙ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｓ               ａ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ,               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｉｔ               ｓｅｅｍｓ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｇｏｄ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               ａ               ｈａｌｔ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｔｅｒａｒｙ               ａｃｔｉｖｉｔｉｅｓ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｓ               ｉｆ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｓａｔｕｒａｔｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｎ               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｔａｎｇｉｂｌｅ               ｌｅａｄｅｎ               ｄａｒｋｎｅｓｓ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｍｅ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｔｅｎｔ               ｏｆ               ａｌｔｅｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｐｒｅｓｓｉｏｎ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｅｙｅｓ.                Ｏｎｃｅ               ａｇａｉｎ,               Ｉ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｄｅｓｔｒｏｙｉｎｇ               ａｎｙ               ｗｒｉｔｉｎｇｓ               Ｉ               ｍａｎａｇｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｉｓｈ,               ｓｏｍｅｔｉｍｅｓ               ｄｕｍｐｉｎｇ               ｗｈｏｌｅ               ｍａｎｕｓｃｒｉｐｔｓ               ｉｎ               ｈａｎｄｙ               ｄｕｓｔｂｉｎｓ,               ｏｒ               ｏｎｅ               ｓｈｅｅｔ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｍｕｒｋｙ               Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ               ｄｒａｉｎｓ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｏｎ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ａｂｏｕｔ               1998,               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｏｒ               ｌｅｓｓ               ｇａｖｅ               ｕｐ               ｃｒｅａｔｉｖｅ               ｗｒｉｔｉｎｇ               ａｌｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｇｏｏｄ               ｍｏｖｅ,               ｇｉｖｅｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｅａｒｌｙ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｗｒｉｔｉｎｇｓ               ｒｅｆｌｅｃｔｅｄ               ａ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｉｎｇ               ｐｒｅｏｃｃｕｐａｔｉｏｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｓｕｂｊｅｃｔｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｈａｄ               ｈｅｌｄ               ｍｅ               ｓｐｅｌｌｂｏｕｎｄ               ｐｒｉｏｒ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｃｏｎｖｅｒｓｉｏｎ. Ｗｈａｔ'ｓ               ｍｏｒｅ,               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｗｒｉｔｉｎｇｓ               ｍｉｘｅｄ               ｔｒｕｔｈ               ａｎｄ               ｆｉｃｔｉｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｅ               ａ               ｐｏｉｎｔｌｅｓｓ               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｃｅｐｔｉｖｅ               ｈｙｂｒｉｄ.                Ｆｉｎａｌｌｙ,               ｉｎ               Ｊａｎｕａｒｙ               2006,               Ｉ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               Ｇｏｄ               ｍａｄｅ               ｉｔ               ｃｌｅａｒ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｍａｔｕｒｅ               ｅｎｏｕｇｈ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｗｒｉｔｅ               ａｇａｉｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               Ｉ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｔｅｎｔａｔｉｖｅｌｙ               ｐｕｂｌｉｓｈｉｎｇ               ｐｉｅｃｅｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｌｏｇｓｔｅｒ               ｗｅｂｓｉｔｅ,               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ａｕｔｏｂｉｏｇｒａｐｈｉｃａｌ               ｏｎｅ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｗｒｉｔｔｅｎ               ｓｏｍｅｔｉｍｅ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｒｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               2006. Ａｓ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｓｔａｎｄ,               Ｉ'ｍ               ｄｅｓｐｅｒａｔｅｌｙ               ｔｒｙｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｐｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｎｉｓｈｉｎｇ               ｔｏｕｃｈｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｅｍｏｉｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｅｖｏｌｖｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｍ,               ｉｎ               ｆａｃｔ,               ｓｉｎｃｅ               2006,               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｄｏｎｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｅｘｃｅｐｔ               ｗｒｉｔｅ,               ｓｏ               ｔｈｅｒｅ'ｓ               ｒｅａｌｌｙ               ｎｏｔ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｔｏ               ｓａｙ               ｂｙ               ｗａｙ               ｏｆ               ｗｒａｐｐｉｎｇ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｕｐ.                Ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｓａｙ               ｉｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｏｒｔｌｙ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｍａｓ               2008,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｅｌｉｚａｂｅｔｈ               ,               ｍｙ               ｏｎｅ-ｔｉｍｅ               ｍｅｎｔｏｒ               ａｔ               Ｗｅｓｔｆｉｅｌｄ               Ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｈａｄ               ｄｉｅｄ               ａｇｅｄ               84               ｉｎ               ｈｅｒ               ａｄｏｐｔｅｄ               ｖｉｌｌａｇｅ               ｏｆ               Ｗｏｏｄｓｔｏｃｋ,               Ｏｘｆｏｒｄｓｈｉｒｅ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｅｃｕｔｏｒ               ｏｆ               ｈｅｒ               ｗｉｌｌ               ａｓｋｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｒｅａｄ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｅｓｓｏｎｓ               ａｔ               ｈｅｒ               ｆｕｎｅｒａｌ               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｌｉｖｅｒ               ａ               ｅｕｌｏｇｙ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｐａｃｉｔｙ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｆｏｒｍｅｒ               ｓｔｕｄｅｎｔ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｒｉｓｈ               ｃｈｕｒｃｈ               ｏｆ               Ｓｔ               Ｍａｒｔｉｎ'ｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ               ｖｉｌｌａｇｅ               ｏｆ               Ｂｌａｄｏｎ,               ｗｈｅｒｅ               Ｗｉｎｓｔｏｎ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈｉｌｌ               ｉｓ               ｂｕｒｉｅｄ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｓ               ｓｉｇｎｉｆｉｃａｎｔ               ｇｉｖｅｎ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｅｌｉｚａｂｅｔｈ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄｉｎｇ               ｍｅｍｂｅｒｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｈｕｒｃｈｉｌｌ               Ｃｅｎｔｒｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ｗｒｉｔｔｅｎ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｒｅａｔ               ｍａｎ'ｓ               ｒｅｌａｔｉｏｎｓｈｉｐ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔｉａｎ               ｆａｉｔｈ.                Ｏｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ｄａｙ,               Ｉ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｅｌｉｚａｂｅｔｈ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｂｏｒｎ               ｉｎ               1924               ａｓ               ａｎ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｃｈｉｌｄ               ｏｆ               ｗｏｒｋｉｎｇ               ｃｌａｓｓ               ｐａｒｅｎｔｓ               ｉｎ               Ｌａｎｃａｓｈｉｒｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｈａｄ               ｇｏｎｅ               ｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｇａｉｎ               ａ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ａｔ               Ｏｘｆｏｒｄ               Ｕｎｉｖｅｒｓｉｔｙ,               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｂｅｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ａ               ｌｅｃｔｕｒｅｒ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ａｔ               Ｗｅｓｔｆｉｅｌｄ. Ｗｈａｔ               ａｎ               ａｓｃｅｎｔ...ｆｒｏｍ               ｈｕｍｂｌｅ               ｎｏｒｔｈｅｒｎ               ｒｏｏｔｓ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｌｅｃｔｕｒｅｓｈｉｐ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｈａｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｌｅａｒｎｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ...ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｗｏｎｄｅｒ               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｓｏ               ｆｒａｇｉｌｅ,               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｆｅｂｒｉｌｅ               ａｓ               ａ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ,               ｂｕｔ               ｓｏ               ｋｉｎｄ,               ｓｏ               ｓｉｎｇｌｅ-ｍｉｎｄｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｈｅｒ               ｄｅｖｏｔｉｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｗｈｏ               ｓｈａｒｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｐａｓｓｉｏｎａｔｅ               ｖｉｅｗ               ｏｆ               ａｒｔ               ａｎｄ               ｌｉｆｅ.                Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               ｓａｄ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｒｅｕｎｉｔｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｅｌｉｚａｂｅｔｈ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｎｅａｒｌｙ               ａ               ｑｕａｒｔｅｒ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｃｅｎｔｕｒｙ               ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｕｎａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｍｍｕｎｉｃａｔｅ. Ｉｔ               ｍａｄｅ               ｍｅ               ｒｅａｌｉｓｅ               ｈｏｗ               ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｔ               ｉｔ               ｉｓ               ｔｏ               ｓｔａｙ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ               ａｎｄ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ,               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｃｏｍｅｓ               ａ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｉｔ               ｉｓ               ｎｏ               ｌｏｎｇｅｒ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｃｏｎｃｉｌｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅｍ. Ｉｔ'ｓ               ｔｏｏ               ｌａｔｅ;               ｔｈｅｙ'ｖｅ               ｇｏｎｅ;               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ               ｉｓ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｓｏ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｏｒｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎ               ａｂｓｅｎｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｓｉｌｅｎｃｅ.                Ｗｈａｔ               ｅｌｓｅ               ｈａｖｅ               Ｉ               ｄｏｎｅ               ｓｉｎｃｅ               2006? Ｈｏｗ               ｈａｖｅ               Ｉ               ｓｐｅｎｔ               ｍｙ               ｔｉｍｅ? Ｉｎ               ｔｅｒｍｓ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｏｎｌｉｎｅ               ｌｉｆｅ,               ｅｖｅｒｙ               ｓｏ               ｏｆｔｅｎ               Ｉ               ｆｉｎｄ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ               ｉｍｍｅｒｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｌａｂｙｒｉｎｔｈｉｎｅ               ｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｆｏｒ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ｒｅｌａｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｓｕｂｊｅｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｈａｓ               ｍｅ               ｂｒｉｅｆｌｙ               ｉｎ               ｉｔｓ               ｔｈｒａｌｌ.                Ａｓ               ａ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔ               ｉｔ               ｒｅｑｕｉｒｅｓ               ｍｅｎｔａｌ               ｐｒｏｃｅｓｓｉｎｇ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ａ               ｐｕｎｉｓｈｉｎｇ               ｂｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｒｅｓｅａｒｃｈ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｅｒｖｉｄ               ｔａｋｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｎｏｔｅｓ. Ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔ               ｔｏｐｉｃｓ               ｔｏ               ｂｅｓｅｔ               ｍｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｎａｔｕｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｉａｎｔｓ               ｏｆ               Ｇｅｎｅｓｉｓ               6:4,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｒｅａｄ               ｏｆ               ｐａｇａｎ               ｒｅｌｉｇｉｏｎ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｓｔｒｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｔｏｗｅｒ               ｏｆ               Ｂａｂｅｌ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｇｏｄ               ｃｏｎｆｕｓｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｎｇｕａｇｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄｎ'ｔ               ｗａｉｔ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｆｒｅｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｍ.                Ａｓ               ａ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ               ｒｕｌｅ               Ｉ'ｍ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ               ｗｈｅｎ               ａｔ               ｐｅａｃｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ｆａｉｔｈ,               ａｎｄ               ｌｅａｓｔ               ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｌｏｓｔ               ｉｎ               ａｎ               ｅｎｄｌｅｓｓ               ｑｕｅｓｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｃｙｂｅｒ-ｋｎｏｗｌｅｄｇｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｎｅ               ｐａｇｅ               ｌｉｎｋｉｎｇ               ｉｎｃｅｓｓａｎｔｌｙ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｖｅｒｌｏａｄ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅｓ               ａ               ｓｅｒｉｏｕｓ               ｔｈｒｅａｔ. Ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｉｍｅ,               ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               Ｉ'ｍ               ｔｅｍｐｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｖｅｎｔｕｒｅ               ｂｅｙｏｎｄ               ｍｙ               ｃｏｍｆｏｒｔ               ｚｏｎｅ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｙｓｔｅｒｉｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ               ａｎｄ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ. Ｉｔ'ｓ               ｈａｒｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｔｅｌｌｅｃｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｃｕｒｉｏｕｓ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｓｉｓｔ               ｄｏｉｎｇ               ｔｈｉｓ,               ａｎｄ               ａｃｃｏｒｄｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｉｂｌｅ,               ｋｎｏｗｌｅｄｇｅ               ｓｈａｌｌ               ｉｎｃｒｅａｓｅ               (Ｄａｎｉｅｌ               12:4)               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               Ｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               Ｃｈｒｉｓｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｍａｙ               ｗｅｌｌ               ｂｅ               ｖｉａ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｒａｃｕｌｏｕｓ               ｍｅｄｉｕｍ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｗｏｒｌｄ               Ｗｉｄｅ               Ｗｅｂ.                Ｔｈｅｒｅ'ｓ               ｒｅａｌｌｙ               ｎｏｔ               ａ               ｗｈｏｌｅ               ｌｏｔ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｔｏ               ａｄｄ               ｔｏ               "Ｒｅｓｃｕｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               Ｒｏｃｋ               ａｎｄ               Ｒｏｌｌ               Ｃｈｉｌｄ",               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｗｏｅｆｕｌｌｙ               ｉｎａｄｅｑｕａｔｅ               ａｓ               ａ               ｆｕｌｌ               ａｃｃｏｕｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｅｘｉｓｔｅｎｃｅ,               ｐａｓｓｅｓ               ｍｕｓｔｅｒ               ａｓ               ａｎ               ｕｎｄｅｒｃｏａｔ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｄｏ               ｈｏｐｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ'ｓ               ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ               ｗｈｏ'ｓ               ｐｅｒｓｅｖｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｆａｒ. Ａｆｔｅｒ               ａｌｌ,               ｉｔ'ｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｊｕｓｔ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｍｅ;               ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｔｅｓｔｉｍｏｎｙ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｅｌｓｅ. Ａｎｄ               ｏｎｅ               ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ｎｏｗ               ａｔ               ａｎ               ｅｎｄ.                Ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｓ               ｔｈｅ               ａｌｔｅｒｎａｔｉｖｅ               ｒｏｍａｎ               à               ｃｌｅｆ               ｖｅｒｓｉｏｎ,               ｓｏ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｎａｍｅｓ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｃｈａｎｇｅｄ.

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1. At Bethel Bible College

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2. Why Some Evangelical Colleges and Universities are Struggling Financially– While Other Schools are Doing Great

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6. College for Church Kids, pt. 2

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7. Bible School For Prophets

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   ...the Truth . Glen can have an odd sense of humor sometimes and this post of his about Bible College betrayed this side of him. As I read the post, my odd (and orange) sense...

8. Inside the Modern Baptism of the Spirit: Holy or Un-Holy?

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9. THE MINISTRY OF GIVING – TB Joshua

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10. Illustrious Men and Ministries

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