Of Light and Shadow

 

 

Of Light and Shadow

Our Heavenly Father is the “Father of Lights” who does not change nor cast a shifting shadow.   see James 1:17

For you are all children of the light and of the day; we don’t belong to darkness and night.   see  1 Thessalonians 5:5

We, His children, are called to be “salt and light” to the world.  We are to let our light shine before others so that we may glorify Him.   see Matthew 5:13-16

I was thinking about the depth of the “light” metaphor when something occurred to me.  Better yet, something was revealed to me about Him, and that is this, a short phrase that is full of meaning:

“A light can have no shadow cast upon it.”

My Lord gave me this phrase!  It is amazing!  I hope to expand on it and develop it.

Some corollaries I can think of at the moment are these:

*Nothing can cast a shadow on a light that shines in all directions at once.

*Nothing can cast a shadow on The Source of all light.  Likewise, nothing can cast a shadow on His Children of Light.

*In a sense, only something that has no light of its own can cast a shadow, and have a shadow cast upon it, for example, a human body.

*In another sense, one’s spirit and soul can have shadow cast upon them or they can be a source of light, depending on who your father, your master, or your god is……

*Light and darkness can’t exist at the same time in the same place.  Where light is, darkness flees!

What is the deeper meaning of “true light”, and of “the shadow of darkness”?  This could get very deep, if it hasn’t already, but I will leave it here. For now.

Light and shadow.  Daylight and darkness.  Good and evil.  The Father of Light, and the  father of lies.  Metaphors given to us in great supply to enhance our understanding.  It was given to me, but this is for you, dear reader:

“A light can have no shadow cast upon it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Languages of Love

Languages of Love
He speaks every moment

Every place in time

In all interrelated spatial positions

To every creature

And to all creation

Primarily to every heart

And soul who will listen

Every searching mind

May hear the delicate

The precise presiding mathematics

See it in waveforms dancing

Lyric logarithmic

It is indeed everywhere

And in everything

Numbers the letters

Equations the words

Complex sentences paragraphs

Chapters books

Libraries

Explaining the structure

Form and function

Of a tree of a seashell of salt

Of music

Of us

~~~

Music too is everywhere

And in everything

For every hearing heart

Are you listening

Do you hear the numbers flow

Babbling rhythmic audible

The noted tones the letters

The bars and lines the phrases

The soaring passages

Of operas concertos

Whole symphonies

Overtures to all creation

Explaining things unseen

Abstract substance

Beauty illuminated

Emotion elucidated

Eternity exclaimed

Glory exponential

Singing artistic creativity

Dignified craftsmanship

Timely invention

Science hums insights

Poetry counts the treasures of thrift

Word and The Senses recite truth

Look and you will find

Faith comes by hearing

Taste and see

A sweet fragrance to Him

He touched their eyes

~~~

He shows Himself everywhere

In everything His Heart speaks

What was made

We didn’t make

Unworthy creatures we

Surely not math

Surely not music

Not art not science

No not Love

Only trouble

~~~

His Image His Nature His Love

He would communicate

To hearts souls minds

He speaks so many languages

Signs and wonders abound

Science Thought Art Inventiveness

Sight Hearing Smell Taste Touch

Math

Music

Word

His many sacred Languages of Love
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written fast as He gave it sans punctuation

Stream of consciousness

It is packed pressed down and running over

All saying read me again

Making demands on a reader

Did you rise to the challenge?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright 8-27-12 Gloryteller.com

Boiled Down

 

I have taken a hiatus, of sorts, from writing during this demanding season, but the heat has at least served to boil something down for me.  Today, while doing the most mundane work, wrapped in sweat and dirt, I was given renewed purpose and also a new way to express my purpose:

To come to know my Father-God’s GLORY in new, deeper, more exciting, more relevant terms, whether the individual revelations be particulate or magnificent;  and then, in my own way, with His guidance, to constantly make known that GLORY to all the people who have eyes to see, and for all nations who have the ears to hear.

I have faith in His faithfulness to bring this to be in me.

Solid stone heart made tender and pliable.

Unworthiness made righteous.

Dreary unforgiveness fading as the grey flees sunrise.

His Selfless Love replacing selfish “love”.

To come to know and, in the knowing, to make it known…..

Yes, this will be do-able.

He boiled it down.

 

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Love’s Deep

Love’s Deep

 He awoke suddenly, startled into full consciousness from a deep sleep. It was the reverberation of the dream that had roused him. He blinked and turned onto his back. From experience, he knew that when he awoke right after having a dream that he could remember that dream, but this was different. It was as though the memory had preceded the waking. It had been so intense, so vivid, so full of implications that weren’t apparent at the moment. So…….. intentional………

 He had just opened the door to one of the stalls in Grandpa’s old red barn so that he could get his riding mower and cut the grass around the house. He had paused for a moment, turning to enjoy the clear blueness of the Spring sky and the excited singing of the birds, when he saw her walking toward him from the direction of the house. His beautiful young wife was smiling as she approached. She was full of life and showed it in the confident way she carried her tall, slim frame, and in the way she was dressed. Today she was wearing a black, form-fitting dress with white trim circling the neckline, the sleeves, and the bottom hem. There was quite a contrast between her dress and his short-sleeved blue work shirt, jeans, and boots, as well as between her light hair and eyes that matched the sky, and his dark hair and deep brown eyes. As she came closer, he remembered that she had a Ladies’ Group meeting at church at ten o’clock this morning. She was coming out here to say goodbye. That was sweet of her. He felt his love for her welling up as it always did at the mere sight or thought of her. He ‘drank in’ her look, from her long, straight, light brown hair, to her blue eyes, to her amazing lips framing an even more amazing smile. He also ‘drank in’ the look in her eyes. The look of love she usually had for him was unusually intense this morning! It was remarkably deep, even mysteriously so. Enthusiastically ardent. Strongly, deeply emotional. Then the touch of her hands on his face was tender, implying a deep spiritual desire; her kiss, intimately personal, fervently powerful, her affection fiercely burning, evoking blazing bonfires and wild horses galloping, their muscles rippling. Enigmatically, mysteriously inexplicable, it was. He had heard of unconditional love, but this time it was palpable – graspable in a new way, and solidly unchangeable. And now the surfaces and interfaces between them were disappearing and they were somehow moving into each other, not necessarily becoming one, not this moment, but inhabiting one another completely. This was the way they both wanted to stay forever. This was love. Maybe seconds, maybe millennia later, she withdrew from the embrace, running her hands down his arms. Squeezing each others’ hands, they still inhabited each other – occupied each other, their eyes locked, arms still reaching toward the other. Transfixed in wonder, he had never known such a loving feeling directed toward himself. He watched her turn………. and then he was awake and alone in awe and frustration in his dark bedroom.

 The dream, itself had only lasted a few seconds. Short, as dreams go, it was over much too quickly. “And, how strange,” he thought, as he reflected on it. “We were so young………..”

 He was sixty-eight now. Grandpa had been dead for fifty years. After Grandpa had passed on, his dad and he had taken over the farm Grandpa built. Four-hundred acres of row crops, pastures, livestock facilities, and grain storage buildings had been a handful. After Mom died, Dad was never the same. His windmill no longer turned in the wind and he had died too. Then he, Dave, and his new wife, Mary, had run the place until it became too much for them and they leased out the croplands on shares. He still called it “Grandpa’s farm”, though, and the barn was still “Grandpa’s barn”. That part was true to life, but in the dream he was young, and the worst part of all was that the young ‘wife’ in the dream was not Mary………. . Mary had been beautiful, yes, but she’d had dark hair and hazel eyes. And she had died three years ago. But his dream had seemed so real. The girl was a stranger, yet had ‘really been’ his wife. It was like another reality – a different life. And her love – the love between them was real – overwhelmingly real. “Get a hold of yourself, Dave,” he muttered to himself.

 “Ohhhh God, You know I’ve been so lonely, why would You do this to me? It felt like I was cheating on the memory of my Mary. What was the good in that?

Why would You show me a love like that, so intense, so powerful, when even my true love, Mary, and I hardly ever had moments that deep?”

He thought about the overwhelming, intensely deep, real love he had experienced in the dream. He wanted that so badly. How could a man taste that and not pursue it forever? His silent inner-weeping welled up.

“Ohhhh, Lord ………..”

 Then a quiet voice spoke so intensely into his soul that his whole body jerked:

That’s The Way I Love You” …………….

The revelation swirled through him, his whole being tingling. The realization that it was true permeated his being with a warm joy, a welcome peace……..

 “Ohhhh, my Lord, I never knew it was like that.”

His whole being was being flooded with astoundingly wonderful word-pictures. The Lover and the Beloved. Visions filled with fragrance, with music, with flavor, and color:

Love’s deep, yearning pursuit…….

Love’s deep, longing, desire……….

Love’s deep summoning……………..

Love’s deep, fiery-wild embrace…..

Love’s deep, caring concern…………

Love’s deep, all-inhabiting indwelling.

Love’s deep Romance……………………..

Your Deep, YOURS, my Lord …………………….. Oh, how You romance us! And that is only part of it, isn’t it. That’s only the tip of the iceberg that my human heart can perceive, isn’t it? But….. but, Lord, I still don’t understand why You didn’t use my Mary to show me……………………..”

You had to know the difference.

…………………………………………….“ Yes, You are sufficient, Lord. I’ve been needing something, but I just didn’t know what. I feel a lot better, Lord, and I thank You. You love me that much?

Now and evermore have I loved you both.”

I only wish I could return that kind of love”………..

You can, in your way. It is within you.

He tried and tried to find the right words to describe the miraculous encounter, the precious revelation. How could he tell it to others? Love’s selfless deep? Love’s wondrous deep? Love’s unreserved deep? Love’s unconditional deep? It was so mind-boggling. Love’s fathomless deep! Yes that’s it!

Be vigilant, child. Your commission is set. Now find your new heart.”

He tried to go back to sleep and continue the dream. Once in a great while, that actually worked………..…………………

 The next morning was Sunday morning. He got ready for church with a new passion for praise and worship of his Almighty Loving Father and Savior. He had a feeling that this service would be special.

 He was drawn to sit toward the back of the auditorium, on the left side. He usually sat in the center, but the center seemed too crowded. As the soft pre-worship music permeated the large space, he became aware of the conversation of the two ladies who sat in front of him. He was not one to eavesdrop, yet he couldn’t help but gather bits and pieces of their conversation, mostly from the one on the right who spoke rather too loudly and too much. He determined that the lady on the left, who was more soft-spoken, was visiting from out-of-state. She seemed about his age. There was something about a young man, possibly her son. Something was all wrong. He was in love with the wrong girl, perhaps. He saw a tear roll down her cheek, and heard the words “lonely”, and “Joe”, and, “ intense personal relationship”, and “ he loves so deeply”.

 “Looks like I’m not the only one thinking about love today,” he thought.

 The worship songs were fervent and meaningful. The message by Pastor DeWayne wasn’t about love, as he had expected, but was about rescue and redemption, which, when he thought about it, had a lot to do with love. The end of the service was coming too quickly for him.“Now it’s time to stand and form groups of three or more to pray for each other,” said the pastor. Since Dave was part of the church’s prayer team, he knew what to do. There was no-one close except for the two ladies in front of him, so he leaned forward and said, “How can I pray for you sisters this morning? My name is Dave. Do you have any prayer needs? I, personally have some back pain I could use some intercession for, but mostly I have praises.”

 “Oh, I have some arther-itis in my fingers that’s been botherin’ me,” stated the one on the right, the louder and shorter of the two, “I’m Betty and this is Sarah. She’s from Texas, ya know,” she inserted, before the taller, more reserved woman could respond. “Pleased to meet you,” everyone said at once.

 “Let’s join hands, if that’s all right, and form a circle. You know Jesus said that wherever two or three or more gather in His name, He will be there in their midst.” They did, and Dave poured himself into praying for Betty’s fingers, and into praises for their Lord. Betty prayed about Dave’s back, rather too long. “Amen,” Dave smiled to himself when she finished.

 “Sarah, you haven’t said much. You don’t have to be shy around here. Isn’t there something we can pray for you?”

 “Well, it’s complicated, but I think I’m okay. Thank you so much for the thought. I have mostly praises myself, like you said.”

 “No she’s not okay,” blurted Betty. “She’s all in a tizzy because she dreamed of this young man last night and she felt like she was cheatin’ on the memory of her husband, Joe. On top of that, she’s been beside herself with loneliness – jist emptiness, poor thing, since Joe passed. Could we please talk to God about that?”

 “I can relate, Sarah,” Dave said softly with compassion, “I lost my wife, Mary, too.” He felt Sarah’s discomfort. The hand he was holding began to sweat and so did his. Her hand was so soft……. . What Betty had said began to sink in.

 “I told you all that in confidence, Betty,” she said calmly, “But you missed the point. God used that dream to show me His immense love for me, and I’m at peace now. She looked at her hand in Dave’s. His hand was so strong…… . She began to blush. Dave looked at her face. She was downright pretty! That smile looked very familiar. His face began to flush.

“Uhhhh, what’s goin’ on here,” Betty demanded.

Dave noticed that he had dropped Betty’s hand and that he was holding Sarah’s in both of his.

 What was going on? Dave’s eyes met Sarah’s clear blue eyes and hers met his deep browns. And in that moment they knew their new hearts.

 “Sarah, did you, by any chance, ever have a black dress with white trim?”

 Her eyes began to fill with tears. “Did you ever have an old barn?”

 “Yes, and I still have it!” they both exclaimed.

 (“Now and evermore, I have loved you both, He said.”)

 With that, an increasing knowing passed between them and they began the long fall into the Deep of one another. No, not the depths. That’s another thing. The Deep – not a place, but a state of being! It was the manifestation of His all-encompassing, all-pursuing, all-inhabiting Romance imparted from God to person and from person to person, the Deep calling to the Deep , the Deep occupying the Deep, the Deep exquisitely alive in the Deep!

 “Selfless Deep?” Dave asked, wide-eyed.

 “Yes. Wondrous Deep?”

 “That’s right. Unreserved? Unconditional?”

 “Love’s Fathomless Deep?” They both began to giggle like children.

 By now, Betty was beside herself, feeling very left out. “You two know each other, right? Or is this some kind of coincidence? You’re speakin’ your own language. Please, give me a clue.”

 “More like a Godincidence, Betty,” quipped Dave without ever taking his gaze from Sarah’s eyes.

 “My friend, we have a lot to explain. We will fix your befuddlement,” said Sarah warmly. “I met Dave last night in my – our – miraculous dream, then in person just now. We knew each other – know each other. It’s hard to explain but we have been given something, and have been shown something very special that is going to knock your socks off! First we will tell you all about it, then we will tell the whole world. Spreading the message of His universal love for His people is the mission He is calling us into as we speak. It’s as though He is outfitting us with everything we need for a long journey. He is strengthening our connection with each passing second.”

 (“Your commission is set, He said”)

 “That’s the truth, my dear. Let me take you both to lunch and we will fill you in, Betty,” Dave proposed, never letting go of Sarah’s hand. “Sister, God’s love for each of us is so much, well, more than we ever thought, or knew. You’re not going to believe the way God loves you, and He’s telling us that we could use your personal testimony as an eye witness to our miracle as we travel, if you are feeling the strong pull of the Holy Spirit in that direction.”

 “If only you knew,” now Betty’s emotions were rising. “I’ve been needin’ something myself. Been feelin’ restless, and I’ve been havin’ thoughts and dreams and ideas about goin’ out and tellin’ the good news of Jesus. I never much thought I would be a good evangelist, but the good Lord has been preparin’ me in little ways that I didn’t much notice until now. I had a feelin’ He would send somebody to me sooner or later. That’s the way He works. He sends jist the right person at jist the right time. His timing is always good. I was kinda hopin’ for Him to send a sister………..or a man……………but, anyway, I cain’t wait to hear what He revealed to you two. I love to hear personal testimonies and you must have a doozie! I love to tell mine too. It’s jist little and simple, but there is great power even in a little story about Him. Yep, I think the fields are white for the pickin’ and I’m ready to go, I’m ready to learn and grow and give my life to Kingdom work! Oh! Praise the Lord, I’m so blessed! Yes! I’m up for lunch and I cain’t hardly wait to learn from you two. This is my calling, I jist know it! You’re not gonna believe how much I like to talk. Prolly too much! Oh, my heavens, I’m doin’ it again aren’t I? Hahahaha!”

 Dave and Sarah smiled intently as they heard every word Betty said, hearts beating wildly, hand in hand, and all the while immersed in the rich, deep, love inside each-other’s eyes.

It’s something like this……

Copyright © by Lenn Snider 5-3-2012

All Rights Reserved

Forever Home

                    

                  Forever Home

 

When our count of days goes way too fast

When earthbound lives are gone and past

 

In sad, lamenting grief we’re cloaked

We limp to You, our only hope

 

We lost them, those who were our own

Or were they not, and just on loan

 

With great compassion You lift us up

For what You gave them, they left with us

 

By Your grace, it’s their Love we’ve enjoyed

So eternal, enduring, death can’t destroy

 

Fragrantly lingering, it wafts through our hair

Like tropical breezes, love whispers its care

 

And we know they are with us, as You’ve been from the start

For their love warms our being, lifts our limbs, and our heart.

 

So, there lies our hope, it’s Your love and Your faith

You care about us, Your plan is in place

 

We lack understanding, only You know

How to bring home your people, You care for each soul

 

For You have given us this sleep

The one that, here, we think so deep

 

Yet it is light, and lasts but a whit

So brief, and at the end of it

 

We waken to You, forever home

At last, Your Treasure is our own.

 

At last! Your Joy is now our own!

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A Study In Black

The color black has been maligned all through history, but I’ve been using one of the benefits of the arguably-ominous color  for years.  Most nights, when I close my eyes to attempt sleep, I’m deluged with a flood of images, pictures, scenes, and mental videos brought about by the thought of today’s events and tomorrow’s coming trials, and the accompanying problem-solving that my brain performs whether awake or asleep. Like many people, I think in pictures but it is extremely difficult to go to sleep with the chaos of racing picture-thoughts overstimulating my mind. The back of my eyelids should be a calm, restful, black, and not a screen for an action-adventure movie. So I devised a “device” by which I could stop thinking and turn off the projector. I began to visualize a blackboard which I could erase with a standard black eraser.

In case you are too young to know what a blackboard was ( I could be wrong, but it seems to me there are hardly any left these days, having been replaced by “green blackboards”, “whiteboards” and “smartboards”) it was a large piece of slate (which is a thin, black, kind of rock) cut into a large, thin rectangle and hung on the wall of a school room to be written on with chalk. Thus they were also called “chalkboards”,  and my educational life (all of it) was spent sitting in front of,  if considered in total,  The Great Wall of China in chalkboards.  Whether due to various punishments, or by choice sometimes, I erased lots of them.  I was good at it.  Obsessively so.  Thorough and meticulous beyond the call of duty.  So it came naturally to erase the blackboard behind my eyelids. If the pictures try to come back, I keep erasing them until I achieve a smooth, plush, black-velvety surface.  At first it required concentration and focus; persistence and perseverance.  With practice, it became much easier, almost second nature.  Now I associate the whole process with sleep.  It’s like biofeedback.  As soon as I get the “eraser” out, the thoughts and pictures flee and the next thing I know, it’s morning!

So, one recent morning I started thinking about “black”. ( Hahaha, some lead in, huh?)  Black is a strange thing.  It helps me sleep.  It is a color. It is also a non-color – a condition.  It depends on the source of the particular blackness we are considering.  In our normal day-to-day life, blackness is a color due to pigments which reflect or emit very, very, little light. Some people say that black contains all the known colors. That is false. Contrary to logic and even intuition, the truth is that white light contains all the colors.

When the source of blackness isn’t pigment, it is simply the absence of light.  In the first case, blackness is due to something we can see, and in the second case it is due to something we can’t see.  The subject can be made more complicated than that, but I’m trying to keep this simple. The scientist in me wants to go into voluminous detail here, but I will spare you that.  If you were wondering, I also want to make it clear that skin colors have absolutely no bearing on anything said here and will not be addressed here.  That is a separate subject, but I will say this: As far as I know, souls have no color.  It is only souls that matter.  In my book, God created them all and loves them all the same.

So, there are black objects and there are times and places that are dark because of the lack of light. I suddenly realized that most of us possess both of these categories of black things in a very obvious place – in the pupils of our eyes! As soon as I thought of that, I rushed to the mirror and stared at my own pupils – the portals through which light enters my physical being, to be focused through a dark place, to enable me to perceive it. I was observing light entering that dark part of myself by using that very same dark part! I stared in awe for a long time just thinking of the interplay and relationship between light and darkness. The paradox, the mystery, the epiphany I felt was an astounding experience – a wonder – you should try it!   

I could go on and on, because that is what I do, but, in the interest of getting to the point, I will simply list some of my thoughts about “black”, and “darkness” for you to think about.  Yes, as usual, I actually have a point.

Black is the color of darkness.

Black and darkness are synonymous, but are different.

Black is the color of these words; of this study.

{Methinks “A Study In Black”

Used black ink to write all that.}

Black-darkness gives context and lends contrast to light – helps to define light.

Black is the canvas on which lights are painted, the milieu in which the galaxies stew.

Black is the tapestry on which the epic Story of Light is recorded.

Black is the blanket which tried in vain to cover and smother the power of The Light.

Black is the substance of light hoped for, the evidence of bright glories unseen.

How could light run and play, spin and dance, without its expansive playground of darkness?

Light was the first thing created.  Does it go unsaid that darkness had to be put in place first, to provide light with a place to be?

The brothers Black and Darkness have lots of negative connotations associated with them, but I like them.

{They help me to sleep.

They help me to write.

They inhabit my eyes.

They help me see light….}

And Darkness saw the light, but could not apprehend it, comprehend it, understand it, nor perceive it.  Darkness opposed the light, but could not overwhelm it, cover it, extinguish it, overtake it, overcome it, nor overpower it.

I have to wonder if, on that darkest day on Calvary, when all Heaven and Earth despaired, perhaps all Creation’s Light hid itself in its grief and mourning, returning only when The Life returned…….

God’s creation of the color black and the condition called darkness surpasses our understanding, yet, we can be certain that it serves His purposes for the good of those who love Him.

Here’s the point.  Even in considering darkness and blackness, I point to God and glorify Him with this writing.  God created darkness, and, in my opinion, He created blackness, among numerous other reasons, to give the darkness a color. Faith tells me that He had reasons and purposes for darkness that we, as creatures of The Light, don’t fully appreciate nor understand.

Isaiah 14:24   The Lord Almighty has sworn, “Surely, as I have planned, so it will be, and as I have purposed, so it will stand.

Isaiah 55:9  “Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways, and my thoughts are higher than your thoughts.”

Just as the crisp, dark, night sky and the deep-cold, empty black of space help me to see the piercing light of the far stars and planets, so does the invisible black-darkness of the opposition make clear the penetrating Light of My Life, Jesus Christ.

To Believe

God extends His grace to the large and to the small, to the “advanced in years” and to those few in years.  He extends it to everyone who will take it.  Grace is free.  It costs nothing but belief in Him, which is also free.  Sometimes there are those who accept His gifts thankfully and use them humbly to illustrate His majestic glory.  One such individual with a powerful message is the delightful Miss Jackie Evancho:

The Godsend

This is my first Christmas story.  It started as a small seed of an idea, but the Holy Spirit grew it in His usual epic way:

In “The Godsend”, Davey Christopher, a very young, post-war detective seeks difficult answers in a world that is almost too big, too formidable. But who knew? God provides! See how He did, in The Godsend. I sincerely hope you enjoy this little story.

Merry Christmas!

 

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Pecans and Promises

The time is full.

The pecans are ripe,

Opening like fingers

Full of promises kept.

They fall

From rattled branch,

Into my thankful, cupped,

Receiving hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WHICH DO YOU LIKE BETTER,  THE ABOVE VERSION

OR THIS ONE?   :

~~~~~~~~~~

The time is full.

Pecans once more are ripe,

Opening like fingers

Full of promises kept.

Gracefully given,

Gladly released.

The work of care-skilled hands,

They fall from rattled branch,

Into my thankful, cupped,

Receiving hands.

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