A: Beginning

He stared at the blank canvas while the cursor blinked. Patiently it awaited orders. The captain drew a cool breath through his teeth and studied what lie ahead.

“It is easy to begin a trek, when my pride isn’t on the line,” he conceded to the cold empty room.

“It is easier to follow, to hide in the shadow of another, a bold one, willing to smash through the wind when it blows. What if I fail? What if my words are dull, my sentences boring, and my story too colorless for anyone to notice it? Yes. It easier to fail at the tasks handed to me by another. But to fail at this?” 

The terror exposed, the captain readied his troops. Carefully he placed each finger into formation on the keys. “This is not a small battle. It’s not a sprint. There will be no flash of brilliance,” he declared. Today marks the first of many. Whatever joy produced will be from the commitment and the doing. 

 Faithfully he typed, A: Beginning. 

Growing This Blog, A Bit

Until now, StrongTree Blog has, more or less, been my public space to word dump, to process my life and walk with Jesus. I enjoy the mostly unedited rawness of it, as I try to let the words flow.

This weekend I began to see a need for different types of posts. So from today forward I will have three types of posts. 

1) Daily Journaling. This is what I’ve done so far, and I want to continue doing it for the reasons listed above. It’s a good outlet. These will now be titled this way, “DJ #-, Title.” Today’s post would be DJ: #42 Random Smiles. 

2) Abstractions. I am somewhat embarrassed to admit, I’d like to be a poet. (I am literally forcing myself to write  and leave these words on the screen.) It’s a tough admission, but there it is. (I am cringing at the thought of leaving this up for people to read. It’s the type of resistance to be attacked.) The titles will look like this “A: Title of abstraction.” Something like, A: Sour Whiskey. I might post 2-3 a week. 

3) Life with Jesus. All of these will over lap, but I want to write more directly and clearly about what the Lord is doing in my life and distill it down. Some people will find value in the rawness of the everyday posts, and some will not. Some people might appreciate a more distilled nugget, free of my personality. Those post will be “LWJ: #-, title.” LWJ: #1, The Importance of Joy. I might post one of these a week? Not sure. 

Random Smiles

It’s happening. Random smiles, untethered to anything logical or obvious. Random joy, felt deep within. I assume it’s the fruit and continuation of my choice to surrender my mind to the Lord. Joy was always allusive prior to this year, a fruit I could not sink my teeth into. But 2020 is proving to be a banner crop year. Two weeks ago I wrote about joy beyond intellect. And last week I had a slightly odd vision I’ll share with you now. 

I saw myself standing before God. (I’d describe the room or space, but there wasn’t one. It was the two us. That’s all.) I saw frustration on my face, but felt the warmth of His love. What came next was unexpected, for I watched myself plucked off the top half of my skull, exposing my grey matter. I set the skull fragment on the ground and presented my living brain to the Lord. Mind you, this was all very real in appearance, not cartoonish or hazy. I saw blood, and bits of hair stuck the side of my face. 

After the gift giving…I comically placed the top of skull back upon my empty head. I felt free. It was the type of freedom I assume an idiot feels, to be silly, without conscience or self-judgment. So I did what idiots do, I ran around the space. And laughed. And jumped, and thought nothing of what it meant or why it was happening.

This is a very literal picture of what’s happening my my life. My intellect was a source of harmful pride, the thing I fell back on to prop me up in low moments. At least, I’m smart. But being smart was never good enough to feel whole or safe, or loved. Even more, it was a barrier to something greater.  

(LOLOLOLOL. This is too good. I had to screenshot and include what I typed in the rough draft of this post. It’s hilarious. “At least, I smart.” HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. #nailedit) 

Joy is sweeter than intelligence, faith is more satisfying than expertise, and uncontrollable love is far superior to rigid life-strangling routine. What a great God we serve. I’ll take all the silly smiles and unplanned laughter I can get. I’m finished being serious and clever.

(If I have to say it, I will. I absolutely love to learn and grow intellectually. I am not advocating an abandonment of logic, science, or learning. Far from it. What I am doing is two things. One, I am believing there is room in my life to leave moments and events unexplained and be unexplainable. Not everything has to make sense. And two, I took my intellect off its prideful pedestal. Once I saw my wits as a barrier, it had to come down.)

God’s Not Deep

Almost twenty years ago I heard a pastor say,“God’s not deep.” He declared it to a room full of young wannabe super Christians, most of us straining to find a secret formula, a key to unlock the demonstrative power of God in our lives. My eager brain, ever in need of complication, immediately asked,”What do does that mean?” After two decades of trying, I now know what he meant. 

Our Father is simple. His desires for us are simple. We engineer the complications, build roads around mountains of pain, and hold onto our wounds. We try to think our way into His presence, and act holy. We make prayer to be something treacherous, like walking a tight rope during a hurricane, rather than enjoying it for the serene stroll it is. 

Last night I laid on a patch of grass and let myself relax into the earth. I tried to connect with the Lord. I admitted how guilty I felt, how part of me felt like my motivations weren’t pure as snow (in my relationship with Jesus.) I feel too consumed with me. I should be more holy and pious. What am I giving to you Lord? (Comparison is a sonofabitch. Read how the Lord deals with it.)

After my mini self-pity party, He responded:

“The scripture says to seek Me first. It doesn’t say “have all the best intentions and motivations at all times.” Of course, you expect My fruits and gifts in your life. It’s ok. 

You’re here, and I love it. 

My motivations aren’t completely selfless. I’m here for selfish reasons too. You have something only you can give Me. No one can give me what you give Me. I show up hoping to receive from you as well as give to you.” 

In my mind, I saw a big smile, and the folksy one-liner echoed in my head, God’s not deep. I started to laugh and cry at the same time, as a new dimension in my walk with Him appeared. Does the Lord really want to know all of my thoughts and feelings? Apparently, yes. I can tell him about my favorite foods, or share political opinions. I can share with Him my love of the arts. Even now, as I type, it feels plain to see and believe. But I didn’t. 

Prior to yesterday God wasn’t my friend, not like a friend friend. He was the all powerful God of Creation and Master of Righteousness. Yes, He loves me without end. He even pursues me, but not all of me. Not “the small stuff.” How important is it anyway? 

This morning I decided to push this new revelation. Lord, I really enjoy my oil pastel drawings this week. Me too. *Big smiles.* Of course you do. 

What may appear to an uncomplicated conversation I assure you was not. I didn’t need  to tell the Lord that. I wasn’t compelled by joy or shame, anger or sadness. I simply shared my life with Him, and He approved. 

The presence of God in our lives will naturally shower us with His love and peace and everything good. But, He also expects to receive what we alone can give Him. It’s more than our praise and worship. He wants to experience us, our actual lives as they are. 

We are more than sinners to be cleaned. We are creation to be enjoyed.

That’s Not What I Meant

August 17th was an anniversary of sorts. It marked my last trip to the Emergency Room for an unidentified stomach illness. I didn’t think about it until that morning. Nearly on cue, my good friend Jess (who was with me in the ER), texted me her recollection of the day. 

Her texts mirrored my own thoughts and feelings. It was horrible, yes. But, the Lord won the moment. His goodness endures. My next thought was,”People might want to know this story and see God’s goodness.” After a few edits to some screenshots of Jess’ texts, I proudly posted the story to Instagram. 

The response…was not what I expected, or wanted. Most people seemed to offer pity, and some even seemed annoyed,”You never told me this.” By the end of the day I decided to take the post down. (Only to put it back up.) Whatever I thought it might accomplish did not happen. My attempt to encourage people in the Lord failed.

I was discouraged. Why did people focus on the gory details and not the triumph of love and grace? Why are their heads down? I started judging people for looking at the wrong details of my story, but the Lord reeled me in. 

1) I have no idea what any of these people, my friends, are going through, or what their reactions indicate about their emotional, mental, spiritual status.

2) Who am I to judge? EVEN IF some of them can’t see the God’s glory, don’t they need good stories more than ever? Who am I?

3) It’s the next step in the maturation, man. You will always and forever be misunderstood. That’s life. Not a deal breaker, or anything to be offended by. It’s not about you…remember?

Yes, I remember. Post and let go. 

The next day, I got the following text from one of my best friends, “Wanted to say thank for your post yesterday. Up for a quick call?” 

Within an hour we were voice to voice, yucking it up about our upcoming camping trip, then his tone became somber. He gave me the latest update on his brother’s battle with blood cancer. He is battling for his life, new drugs, chemotherapy, the whole bit. Cancer f-cking sucks. 

On the same day I posted about my triumph over my strange stomach illness, the brother posted about his current fight with cancer. He posted about facing his mortality and his views on life. My good friend was discouraged by it. My friend felt boxed in and unable to relate to his brother. 

Then his wife told him to read my post. As he read it, he became encouraged, that he could sit in his truth and let it be. He didn’t have to hide himself from his brother. I put my phone on mute and cried while he talked. I felt the most gentile rebuke of my life. 

If I am going to love and encourage anyone, let it be those closest to me. Let it be my family and friends. What foolishness by me, to judge myself by the reactions of a few, to judge them at all. If everyone else completely missed the point (they didn’t, I’m projecting), but this friend got it, I’m happy. 

And that’s the way it’s gonna be most of the time. People, friends and family, are going to miss what I mean to say. (Part of it is on me as I am still learning to communicate.) I’ll never know the full impact of my life has on others. And it would be folly to chase that validation. 

God is good, and people need to hear it everyday. He is good to me in the ER, and when I’m allowing my ego to be a judge.  

Post and let go. 

Fearing Fear

I should title the last week of posts “Facing Fear Week,” as it is the theme of my of my recent life. It’s a season that began in May, when a young friend sent me a prophetic message. In it he wrote, “you are holding an emotion, something you’ve never released to the Lord. And you need to let it out.” 

It’s odd he said emotion. We base our feelings stem from one of four emotions: happiness, sadness, anger, and fear. I knew the first three. I knew I could express the varied forms of happiness to the Lord. I had no problem being sad and heart broken. And, I am so comfortable venting anger with Jesus it could scare the average person. But fear? What I called “being afraid?” That was new. 

I fell to my knees that day back in May and cried out, “I’m afraid. I’m scared. And I’m tired of it. I can’t carry all of this. Take it from me.” Suddenly and dramatically, I saw the role fear played in my life, how it influenced my decisions and tuned my motivations. Turns out, I was afraid of a great many things personal and external. 

Before I continue I want to add, fear did not influence every aspect of my life and decision making. This is not an all or nothing situation. I’ve made many decisions out of expectant faith. I wouldn’t be here without them. But, 2020 was the year He prepared me to see the broader truth (as much as I can.) 

The last two days cynical thoughts were planted in my brain: What are you gonna do with your next big disappointment? This life of joy and growth won’t last forever. You’ll just slide back into your indulgent routines and patterns. You’re only doing this so she notices. That’s what happens in a break up. Remember Lee? Yeah. That’s you. You’re just trying to prove yourself all over again.

Thing is….that’s all f-cking bullsh-t. It’s not true. None of it. Do I want her to notice me? Yes. I can admit such a desire. And…she already has. So? Now what? Now, I just keeping living my best life, because I want to love and enjoy the life Jesus gave me. This (my renewed love of Jesus and pursuit of Him) isn’t about her. My learning to love myself, and subsequent path back to physical health…isn’t about her. My foray into my artistic heart isn’t about her. And this blog isn’t about her. 

What do I with in my next big disappointment? Same f-cking thing I did with the last big disappointment. Run to Jesus. Refuse to allow the disappointment to define me or taint my faith, and lean on my powerful community. 

This life of joy and growth won’t last forever. Jesus is my source of Joy. And He will last forever. Suck on that, liar. 

You’ll just slide back into your indulgent routines and patterns. Not a chance. Not this time. I love me. The transition is real. No going back. 

I will not live in fear of fear. Moreover, I will stop projecting reactions- crucial for me. For example, yesterday I texted her “Hey, I love and appreciate you. Thanks for being my friend.” Took me two weeks to send that text. Why? Because I was worried about the consequences. I tried to think of all the ways it could go wrong or be misinterpreted. Once I let go of attempts to control the outcome, I pressed send.

 I know my heart, my motivations. I just wanted to affirm my love for someone I care about. I didn’t have expectations or a secret agenda. 

Fear is a nasty bastard, and by the grace and favor of the Lord our God, I’m gonna beat the sh-t out it. 

I Can’t Stop Weeping

It’s good I am an independent contractor, and I’m not sure what’s happening to me. I can’t stop crying. I might go an hour or two between episodes, but then in a turn I’m using my shirt sleeve to wipe my eyes. The emotions, which vary and come in multi packs, pass quickly. I’ve stopped trying to analyze any of it. 

As I packed up the remains of my lunch today, a single thought stood above the rest. I let it slip from my mouth. Lord, I don’t want you to be smaller than I can imagine. It hung in the empty conference room for a moment, the central fear of all my fears. I don’t want some of you, I want it all. I’ll go and do whatever, but let’s put away anything less than everything. 

I can see now, as I type, this is the next fear to face. The fear that God is not who He is. I believe this fear has risen to the top because I can’t really move on without confronting it. 

I know what to do. 

I started confessing positive affirmation over my life earlier this year (I am amazing, I am worthy of love, etc), then I started confessing my trust and surrender, then onto God’s promises over my life, and now I believe my heart needs to hear the next big thing: JESUS IS MORE WONDERFUL, LOVING, GENEROUS, AND GIVING THAN YOU COULD IMAGINE. 

I felt a tinge of hesitancy as I wrote those words above, so I’ll take it as a sign I’m on the right track.  

God is good. Better than I know.  

He Is The Answer

A friend sent me a copy of the CS Lewis book Till We Have Faces, which I read over the last week or so. It is a retelling of the Greek myth of Psyche and Cupid from the perspective of Orual, one of Psyche’s older sisters. In the original tale, Queen Orual is jealous and evil, but Lewis set up his telling from the perspective of the Queen. She is the narrator, and the story is- in a very Greek manner- her defense.

As I read, I began to see parts of myself in the Queen, which Lewis intended for the reader. I indentified with her lack of self-worth and desire to well by people, to hide her ugliness and inner complications even from those closest to her. As the story unfurls we see the unresolved questions and unhealed wounds direct the Queen, even in her best intentions. 

In vain, she accuses the gods of playing humanity for fools, of staying hidden, and speaking in riddles. In this attempt she is brought before a celestial court, before the dead and holy, to make her case. It is only then does she understand the existence of the Divine Nature and its true spirit. The pettiness of people, our held fears, and mortal gods are a distraction to the greater.

In my view the story climaxes on the last page when the Queen confesses her most true revelation: 

“I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice?”

As I read those words, my heart burst and I sobbed into my hands. I lack the vocabulary- if it exists- to describe what I experienced. It was a folding of joy, smallness, connection, pursued, and holy protection in to one sacred moment. I felt loved, by the great Love.

This morning, I blubbered my way up and down the trail on my walk. Thankfully only a few of the usual regulars where out, so I cared less about the bumbling sloppiness of my prayer. If You are the answer, then I am the question. Is it that simple Lord? Is what you want from me so easy? Am I, in my simplest form, enough for you? Yes. I love you, all of you, and all of them. My desire never changed. From the time of Adam, my desire is to walk with you, and love you, and commune with you. You are forever worthy in my eyes. 

The pure and simple heart of our Father remains as it always was, in love with his kids. Not hidden, but true. Not angry or pissed off, but forever hoping, guiding, and kind. It is I who put road blocks and hurdles between us. It was I who tried to conform to a human standard of respectability. 

It was I who separated myself from Him, held my fears and hurts. And yet, He did not turn away. His love for me is real and alive. It is what my heart most wants, to commune with and be know my God our Father. The irony is, I’ve know this since my youngest age, but I could not bare to live it for fear. 

(I wasn’t able to believe I was worthy of something so grand and wonderful, but I wanted to believe it. It’s why the title of the top of this blog is Walking in the Garden, a reference to my favorite hymn: 

I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the roses,
And the voice I hear falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of his voice is so sweet
The birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He give to me
Within my heart is to ringing.

And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

I stay in the garden with Him,
Though the night around me is falling.
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.

And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.)

This is the Jesus I wanted from the beginning, something beyond reason or grand expectation, or accomplishment. What I did not know then, the truth now washing over my intellect and emotional heart, is how much I mean to Him.  

I feel like I am dying and being reborn. And now, instead of a bitter and shame filled identity, I see myself in Paul’s poetic admission to the Galatians:

“I tried keeping rules and working my head off to please God, and it didn’t work. 

So I quit being a “law man” so that I could be God’s man. Christ’s life showed me how, and enabled me to do it. I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. 

My ego is no longer central. 

It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not “mine,” but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that.”

I feel like this post is a bit rambling and disjointed. Practically all of my posts are rough drafts, but I still glance over them so they are somewhat readable. I’m going to leave it unedited. It shows the illogical nature of what’s happening in my life. And though I may want to be become a better writer, I will not edit out the goodness God is pouring out in on me. 

Attacking my Fears

(Onward, Nik. He’s got you.)

If you have to fight a dragon, you should go to its lair before it comes to your village. - Jordan Peterson

Today, I will take the next step in my evolution as a man pursuing God. That’s right. I’m gonna post the URL for this blog to my Instagram profile. BOOOOOM! (LOL) I know what you’re thinking. How bold! I know. I’m amazing.

 In truth, it is bold, for me. 

Until today, I’ve written and posted from my quiet internet cavern. Safe. Secure. Willing to write and be known by my parents and a few close friends. But today, as soon as I proofread and press Post, I’ll post the URL in my profile, a very low key, but very real public reveal. 

My conflict and fear stems from what I’ve written. I’ve described people and moments of my life. People and moments known to those who are most likely to read this (at first.) And yet, I’m not ashamed of anything I wrote. I am afraid of rejection. A thing never means what we want it to mean, and the human endeavor is plagued with triggered misunderstandings. Still, I’ve got to take the next step. I do beg anyone who believes I’ve written about them, reach out to me if anything offended you. Let’s set it right.

My motivation to make this small, but significant step forward stems from my desire to attack fear rather than let it rest. At present, I can recognize several fears kicking around my heart- making this blog public is just one of them. 

As I type, I am laughing. The fear of this is likely far greater than the reality will be. What’s most likely to happen a few people will visit my Instagram profile, fewer still will click the URL, and of that number only a small handful will stick around to read anything. 

Even still, I do not want to let fear win any area of my life. And so I must confront it, one by one. I did not come this far to be pushed back into the corner of humiliation and powerlessness. Whatever intense conversations may ensue, it will be an opportunity to grow, onward. 

Thank you Lord for pushing my heart toward hope and strength. I want to rest in Your shadow and eat Your bread. Jesus didn’t hide His goodness or keep His love hidden. Likewise, I will not keep what You’ve given me under my bed or in my closet. It’s good and without end, because You are good and without end. 

Amen. 

Over a Month In, What a Trip

I decided to re-read all of my posts on this blog, from the beginning. It’s a good practice I’ve been told. I usually write a thing- blog post or journal entry- and move on, never to visit it again. 

I admit I am pleased with my progression. Each post is earnest and true to who I was in the moment I wrote it. And…I can see a slow stripping of self-conscience censorship. Still, I hold more regard for the newest posts and something bordering on shame in older. 

Why is that? Why do I feel ashamed of something I did a month ago? My first- and likely accurate- thought is I am ashamed because I tried to sound important and wise. What a difference a month makes. A month ago I wanted to believe I held something of value for others. Now, I genuinely believe it, as I believe I inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide. I do not need to prove my words and testimony are powerful, I only need to let them out. 

Dear reader, you may not be impressed with me or my writing. And I would agree except that my writing improved since the beginning of July, and I beg you to accept this wisdom: Do a thing, any thing, intentionally. Everyday. Believe in the person our Father created you to be. And you will see results. Movement along the curve. 

If you want to find some motivation…after the month is over, project your results over the next eleven months. Hot damn, I just got excited!

Yeah, I’m no Hemingway or Lewis, but I ain’t Nik from a month ago either. 

Thank you Jesus. How true your words are. 

Twenty Years Later, Same Desires

Neglected underneath anxiety, experience, and shadow, an old longing surfaced as I walked to my car last Thursday evening. I asked smaller related questions for three weeks, spurred on by my nightly journey into the Gospels. I want to see more miracles in my life. I believe in them, so why shouldn’t I expect them? What will become of me the further I dive into Jesus? What is possible in my life?

Thursday night my heart gathered all these splintered questions to itself and finally confessed to the grand singular desire: I want more Jesus. Like all of it. Sold out like I’ve only ever dared to dream, this is who I am now and forever.  Once again, tears fell down my cheeks as I sat in my idle car. Lord, I want more, I want it all. And I don’t care what I my life looks like to anyone else. And…I’m afraid. 

The sum truth is, I am afraid of living that life- of being that guy. But what else is there? To live in the in-between? One foot on God’s heart and promises for my life, and one foot on my island of control? With a few exceptions, I’ve lived that life for the last 20 years. The data is solid. All my attempts to control my life failed. So, it’s time. Time to let go and ride into a future I did not design or foresee. He is the author and finisher, not me. 

And what am I afraid of? Being weird? Being outcast? No. I’m not. But it takes some strength to be that guy, to love Jesus radically and let Him lead. It’s plain to see now, my life is going to be very different than what I’ve imagined. So be it. Most of my dreams were built on sand, built on a need for validation and recognition. (I still hold a few dreams close, the pure dreams I know are in league with Him.)

What will my friends think?

The real irony of the question above is most of my friends are Christians. Wouldn’t they support me? In theory….yes. And I don’t intend to be an evangelical extremist. I don’t think that’s my path. 

Many of my friends have, like me, settled into a compromised faith. Time with Jesus is carved out between careers and family obligations and paying taxes. We believe in the Lord, and on occasion connect to His love and peace. But, Monday arrives and we leave His embrace to get on “real life,” as though our walk is a privilege and not a glorious life sustaining eternal reality. 

…The sheer irony of how we spend time in His presence, to be transformed and lifted from our mire, only to run back to the muck out of obligation. Then I must ask: why do we set up our lives to be obligated to that which kills us and not to what makes us stronger? Happier? More peaceful and kind? 

Those questions will hardly be answered today. What I will proudly admit is my best life is lived in the presence of Jesus. His love and endurance has transformed me, and I don’t want to live a life of endless- death supplying- obligation. I will choose our Creator, my sustainer, my hope and my steady rock. 

More Lord. 

Hi, My Name is Complexity

I assume other people can feel conflicting complex emotions in a single moment. (Scientifically it’s called ambivalence, or what we know as “mixed feelings.”) 

I have always been this way, and in younger days I would sit in indecision or self-pity. I’d ask the same questions a million times. I’d interpret the complexity and conflict as I sign I lacked competence or stability. But it’s not true.

My best friend Blake paid me one of the highest compliments of my life yesterday, and it has everything to do with complex emotions, trusting Jesus, and my recent path to His glory. I was in the middle of catching him up on my life, and how I handle destructive thoughts and feelings. I then told him how can recognize certain desires but don’t judgment myself for having them. Blake immediately quipped,”that’s the definition of ‘taking every thought captive.’ You’ve figured out what is good and what is not, but also some things just are. And that’s ok.”

Don’t you just love friends who can restate something in a useful/clarifying manner?

After we said our goodbyes, I sat down and thanked God for this moment. I have time and space to practice living my best life. I have time to stop my day, go into a private space, and cry my sad heart out if I need it. Or let loose my frustration. Or address my self-pity and insecurity. Thank you Jesus. 

I’m worth it. I’m worth battling every bullshit thought or feeling. I’m worth loving myself, respecting myself, and fighting for my heart. 

This morning a thought shot through my brain and caused me to giggle with relief. I’m a good friend. I was good boyfriend. I was not good to me. Not no more yo. LOLOLOLOLOL. The last major piece of my love puzzle to lay in place is this: Love thy self. 

And now I know I can love others, radically so. I have the deepest well to draw from, and it is the Lord who supplies it- with joy and grace for a million days and beyond. 

Amen. 

PS- Thank you Jesus, my cool drink and my refreshing breeze.