Ever felt like giving up?

But he (Elijah) himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down  under a juniper tree; and he requested for himself that he might die, and said, "It is enough; now, O Lord, take my life, for I am not better than my fathers."  --1 Kings 19:4

Have you ever felt like just giving up?  I think we all have, at some point or another.  There comes a time when you feel like it's not worth it any more, and you simply want to throw your hands up and walk away.

Sometimes walking away may be the best thing you can do.  If you are involved in sinful, immoral, or unethical/illegal behavior, turning away from destructive behaviors is not quitting, it is called repentance.  God will honor that, if He is guiding you to walk in a different direction.

Unfortunately, we do not always go to God with those decisions.  In hindsight, quitting may not have been the best thing for us.  I can think of some examples in my family history.

The story goes that my grandfather heard of a government land grant program in the 1930s or 1940s.  The US government was promoting agriculture, especially in the Western states.  If an applicant would stay on the land for four years, then the land would become theirs; the government would deed it to the grantee.  So my grandfather moved to eastern New Mexico, and took up residence on about 400 acres of land there.  He tried farming it, but the yields were quite low.  Three and a half years in, he took stock of the situation: the land was no good for farming, it wouldn't support him and his family, it was costing more in maintenance and upkeep than it was bringing in.  Furthermore, he had no real friends or family there, he was isolated.  Finally, there was an upswing in demand for factory workers in the cities as the US began its military buildup leading into World War II.  Given all this information, it seemed good for him to abandon the claim, move to San Antonio, and get a factory job.

I don't know if my grandfather prayed about this decision.  I do know that within 10 years of his giving up those 400 acres, they discovered oil on that land.  My grandfather could have been filthy rich if he had found a way to stay on the land for another six months.

My father wanted to move out of the house and go out on his own at a very young age.  He convinced his parents to sign a waiver so that he could join the Marines as a 17 year old.  Over the next four years he was promoted to Sergeant, and was for a time a drill instructor.  He told me that he was approached by his CO about enrolling in Officer Candidate School.  They thought he might have a good shot at becoming a commissioned officer.  Unfortunately, the next OCS class would not start for another six months, and my dad was scheduled to end his initial four-year stint in just a couple of months.  He said he did not think he wanted to re-up in the Marine Corps, then just hang around for four more months waiting for OCS training.  He decided to pass on an extended military career as a potential Marine Corps officer.  He could have retired after 18 years will a full military pension, and at age 35 he could have gone on to a second career.

I am pretty sure my dad did not pray about this decision.  It may not have been God's will for him to continue in the military--the conflict in Viet Nam had not yet started, and he might have been sent over there.  He may have been a war hero, we'll never know.  His thinking, though, was that he did not want to wait another four months for the opportunity to come to fruition.

I was a music major in college.  I loved to sing, and I could read music pretty well.  I did have some trouble learning piano, and that was a requirement.  Also, my original voice teacher retired after my sophomore year, and the new voice teacher to whom I was assigned did not like my vocal technique, and I was forced to repeat a semester.  The news came as I was signing up for classes my senior year that I would not have enough credits to graduate from the School of Music by the end of four years.  I had the choice of sticking with it, fulfilling all the requirements as a "fifth year senior"; or I could change my major, go with a "General Studies" curriculum, and graduate with my class.  I chose the latter.  I didn't want to endure undergraduate work one more year.  I was pretty sick of living in the small college town I had been in for four years.  I was engaged to a pretty young Sophomore, and I was anxious to support her and perhaps start a family.

I don't remember praying about this decision.  I thought it was the logical thing to do--everything I wanted to do next I could do with a General Studies degree.  I could go on to graduate school, I could get married, I could get a full time job.  As it turns out, I never used my graduate degree for anything.  The marriage didn't last--she went back to school and left me for a graduate assistant.  The full time job I got did not turn into a career for me.  Things might have been different if I had stayed with my original degree plan for one more year.

You may have a similar story in your background.  In hindsight, things definitely would have been different had you chosen another path, maybe for the better.  Thankfully, God is able to make all things (including our bad decisions or our quitting too soon) work together for our good and for His glory (see Romans 8:28).  Never lose sight of that.

Many people do lose sight of that fact.  In the examples I cited from my own family history, the decisions had a bearing on potential wealth, glory, or even happiness; but in all those situations, life continued on.  For many, the struggles are not just life altering, but potentially life-ending.  According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, there are at least 123 suicides in the United States each day.  That's an average of one every eleven and a half minutes.  For every "successful" suicide, there are 25 unsuccessful attempts.

Last Sunday, the Associate Pastor of my church cited statistics that said the highest rate of suicide in our county occurred within a three mile radius of our church building.  That's staggering!  As we come together for fellowship and worship, praising God and enjoying communion with other believers, the people around us are losing all hope, and are literally dying.

What can we do?  We can go and find hurting people in the highways and hedges.  We can combat isolationist tendencies, and share hope and healing where we can.  We can identify those whose depression is deep-seated, and try to get them professional help.  Most of all, we can pray.

What would you say to someone who came to you at a vulnerable moment in their lives, and admitted to having suicidal thoughts?  The Bible speaks to this very situation, and it would be beneficial for us to be aware of it.  I know of two people in the Bible who actually committed suicide.  One was King Saul, who found himself overrun by the Philistine army.  1 Samuel 31 tells of Israel losing this battle, and of Jonathan (Saul's son) being killed on the battlefield.  Saul and his lieutenant came under fire from the enemy archers, and Saul was wounded.

As an aside, this chapter comes right on the heels of chapter 30, where we learned of David's successful campaign against the Amalakites, another of Israel's enemies.  David had God's blessing; Saul did not.  David inquired of the Lord before engaging in battle; Saul had not.  David was victorious; Saul was not.  So Saul, having lost his son and half his army, seeing himself wounded and defeated, fell on his own sword and killed himself.  He told his lieutenant that it would be better to die there than to have the Philistines "make sport of me."  Perhaps if he had called upon God, as David had, God might have heard him and had compassion.  God could have turned the battle around, but He was not invited.  I don't want to simplify things too much here, but God will not intervene where He is not welcomed.

The other suicide in the Bible is the disciple Judas.  After Judas betrayed Jesus, he went to the Temple and tried to undo it.  The Jews had given Judas 30 pieces of silver to show them where Jesus was;  Judas tried to give the money back, as if they would release Jesus and things could go back to the way they were before.  That didn't happen, and Judas lost all hope.  He died before he could witness the resurrection of Jesus.  Perhaps if he had waited three more days, Jesus might have forgiven him personally, in bodily form.

I think, though, that people who have lost all hope don't like to deal in "what-if's".  They can't see potential like those of us can who do have hope.  They can't relate to suppositions about what might have happened if someone had not gone through with self destructive behavior.  I think that's why the Bible also includes stories about real people who lost hope, but did call on God, and who had their lives spared from self-harm.  Two immediately come to mind.

The first was Elijah, the great prophet of God. 1 Kings 18 tells of a mighty miracle God performed through Elijah.  The king and most of the Israelites worshiped the false god Baal.  Elijah proposed a test: they would set up two altars, one for Baal, and another for the true God.  Whichever deity that would answer prayers by sending fire from the heavens would be shown to be the true God.  You can read the story.  Baal didn't answer.  God sent fire, and consumed not only the altar before Elijah, but also consumed the altar set before the prophets of Baal.  This resulted in many in Israel returning to the true God.  Not the king, however.  The king sent threats that he would have Elijah killed.  Elijah was deathly afraid, and literally ran for his life.

Exhausted, he sat under a Juniper tree and prayed that God would kill him, or give Elijah permission to kill himself.  Elijah fell asleep, and when he awoke, he saw that God had sent an angel. The angel was preparing food for him to eat, and encouraging him to keep going.  After his physical needs were met, Elijah heard God's voice.  God gave him a kind of object lesson: Elijah's complaint was that he thought he was the only one left in Israel who feared God.  What can one man do?  What difference can one lonely voice make in a world of chaos, in a cacophony of opposing messages?

God's answer is interesting.  He set Elijah up on a mountain, and sent an earthquake.  Elijah knew that God was not in the earthquake.  God sent a mighty, rushing wind, like a hurricane.  Elijah knew God was not in the wind.  God sent fire and smoke, but Elijah knew God was not in the fire.  Finally, God spoke in a still, small voice, and Elijah knew that it was the Lord.  The lesson was that God can work in the smallest, most quiet way, even in the midst of noise from the fire and wind and earthquake.  So Elijah should not worry that he is only one man, with one small voice speaking against kings and princes and prophets and priests, all with a bigger megaphone than he.  Besides, God told him, there were still 700 people in Israel who had not bowed the knee to Baal, who were faithful to the One True God.  He was not alone.

The other story is from Jonah chapter 4.  Jonah had tried to run from God, but God sent a storm to slow the ship sailing the opposite direction.  Jonah had spent three days in the belly of a great fish, who took him back to where he started and vomited Jonah back onto the dry land.  Finally, Jonah brought the word of the Lord to Nineveh, however begrudgingly, and the people heard the message and repented.  Jonah, however, sat on a hillside wishing that God would send fire from heaven to consume the people.  The sun became unbearably hot, and Jonah wished he was dead.  His mortal enemies had been spared by God; the message that he had preached, a message of destruction, had not come to pass.  What good was he?  He hadn't been obedient to God.  He had prophesied one thing, and something totally different had actually happened.  So what good was he?  He might as well be dead, because his identity and purpose had been irreparably compromised.

Again, God saw to his physical need by sending a plant to shade Jonah.  Then He gave Jonah and object lesson: he sent a worm to destroy the plant.  God listened to Jonah complain about the plant dying, then He made this point--Jonah was more concerned about a stupid plant than he was about people.  One plant died, and Jonah had a fit.  Why didn't he care as much about the 120,000 people in Nineveh that had been spared?

If you or I come upon someone in a crisis, who is crying out for help and seems to be longing for death over life, we can do the same three things that God did for both Elijah and Jonah.  First, we can see to their physical needs.  If they are tired, we can encourage them to rest; if they are hungry, we can give them food; if they have a need, we must do whatever we can to meet that physical need.  Jesus encouraged His followers to treat needy people as if they were Christ Himself: "For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited me in; naked, and you clothed me; I was sick, and you visited me; I was in prison, and you came to me." (Matthew 25:35-36).  James 2:15 and 16 encourages us to reveal our faith through actions: "If a brother or sister is without clothing and in need of daily food, and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace, be warm and filled,' and yet you do not give them what is necessary for their body, what use is that?"

Second, we can listen to them.  People are crying out, yet no one truly hears them.  That is why they feel alone.  Isolation kills relationships, yet when people feel alone they tend to isolate themselves even more.  They stop talking if they feel like no one is listening.  In our examples from the lives of Elijah and Jonah, God listened to those men, and He heard their hearts.  If we are the Body of Christ, then we must listen as He listened.  We must hear the heart-cry of the helpless and the hopeless.

Third, we must bring a message from God's heart.  Not a message of "be warm and filled", not "hey, get over it," but rather a message that says God has sent someone to meet their unique need at this point in time. We may not be able to preach a sermon to them, but we can show them God's hand in other real-life situations.  Remember, God used object lessons to reach Elijah and Jonah.  He took things they knew, experiences they'd had, and drew spiritual truths out of them.  We can encourage other broken people by being vulnerable, by sharing our own brokenness and showing how God has healed us, how He has made Himself real to us.  God may have brought us out of a very similar situation to the one that our friend who has lost all hope is going through.  All we have to do is share what God did for us.  First-hand experience with loss, with poverty, with abuse, with illness--whatever we have gone through, others are going through it, too.  If God can bring you through your crisis, He can certainly do the same for others that we meet, that we are called to minister to.

We don't have to be perfect.  Thankfully, God can use broken vessels.  We just need to be available.  If God can use a worm to teach Jonah, he can sure use us.

Uniquely equipped for the work of the ministry

And He Himself gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ, till we all come to the unity of faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God.  --Ephesians 4:11-13a

My father would have been 81 today.  He was a pastor/teacher with a heart for evangelism.  He always taught, however, that it was not his job to be a professional Christian--that we are all called to ministry in whatever capacity God gifts us for.  It is only the job of a pastor to teach us, train us, and motivate us to do the work of the minister.

See, we all have this pre-conceived notion that since we are not Ministers by profession (that is, we are not all called to be pastors or evangelists), that we should leave the work of real ministry to the professionals.  I believe that this is a misinterpretation of the word "ministry".

Since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, each of us is to exercise them accordingly: if prophecy, according to the proportion of his faith; if service, in his serving; or he who teaches, in his teaching; or he who exhorts, in his exhortation; he who gives, with liberality; he who leads, with diligence; he who shows mercy, with cheerfulness. (Romans 12:6-8)

Nowhere in that scripture does Paul ever say that all of these services are reserved exclusively for the clergy.  In fact, the terms "clergy" and "laity" are mentioned nowhere in the Bible.  Each of us is given a spiritual gift, and each one of us is encouraged to use it for God's glory. "Whoever speaks, is to do so as one who is speaking the utterances of God; whoever serves is to do so as one who is serving by the strength which God supplies; so that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belongs all glory and dominion forever and ever.  Amen." (1 Peter 4:11).

Let me give an example here.  I am a big fan of professional football.  Apparently I am not alone, because hundreds of thousands of fans flock to stadiums all over the U.S., and millions more tune in on television.  Really good players get paid huge sums to play this game in front of all those fans.  But notice this: whenever one of those well-paid players is injured on a play, who is it that comes out to see about him?  Is the one of the other players?  Surely the quarterback would know what to do; does he go to see about his teammate?  No.  What about the coach--isn't his job to look after the health and well-being of all of the players?  No, because the coach and the quarterback are not equipped for this work.

When play is stopped on the field because of an injury, there are two types of people who trot out on the field.  One is a trainer, the other might be a doctor.  And although the doctor makes more money, he isn't the first responder in most on-field injuries.  No, the first one on the field is a trainer, someone equipped with the knowledge of how to assess and deal with sports injuries.

I know some pretty rabid NFL fans.  They know the names and salaries of virtually all of the players, and most of the coaches.  I would venture to say, however, that none of them knows the names of the trainers.  Yet when an injury occurs on the field, who is the most important person in that situation?  Is it the highly paid player?  No, it is the trainer, the one who is uniquely equipped and qualified to offer first aid and medical assistance.

I have to laugh every time an NFL game is broadcast, because the professional broadcasters make a mockery of the English language. Invariably, they will say something like, "The team trainers are administering to" the injured player.  They may be trying to say "administering first aid" or "administering medical assistance."  But that is not what is being done at all.  In this situation, the trainer is ministering to the injured player.  What he (or she) is trained to do is ministry, pure and simple.

We may not have the calling or the training or even the opportunity to minister to someone's physical needs.  Our calling may be to minister to their mental, emotional, spiritual, financial, social, or professional needs.  We may not be well known outside of our circle of influence, and we may not think we are that important since we do not have the salary or title or position of someone else in our circle.  However, our calling is to do the work of the ministry that God has equipped us for, in the place and time He has put us in His sovereign plan.

Because the world does not value ministry (or actively tries to re-define the term--see above--or even devalue it in order to make us ineffective), we may shy away from ministry opportunities.  We may hear the enemy saying, "Don't get involved," or "It's not your problem."  One of my favorite objections is this: "Who died and made you a (fill-in-the-blank)?"  Are you following me here?  The question goes to identity and purpose.  If you are trying to defend the weak, someone may ask "Who are you (identity) to stand up for the rights of this person (purpose)?"

Scripture addresses this, as well.  In the second chapter of Exodus we read about the birth and background of Moses.  Through a divine set of circumstances, Moses was placed in a position of influence in the Egyptian court.  He was literally raised as a prince, but never forgot his identity as an Israelite.  At that time the people of Israel were being persecuted.  Moses observed one of his countrymen being abused by an Egyptian overlord, and he took matters into his own hands.  He killed the Egyptian, and buried him in the sand.

He went out the next day, and behold, two Hebrews were fighting with each other; and he said to the offender, "Why are you striking your companion?" But he said, "Who made you a prince or a judge over us?  Are you intending to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?"  Then Moses was afraid and said, "Surely the matter has become known." (Exodus 2:13-14)

Moses had not yet heard from God, but he was, in fact, a prince over the people.  God had placed him in this unique position in this particular time and place for a purpose.  So the answer to the man's question, "Who made you a prince or a judge over us?" is this: GOD DID.  God put Moses in that position of authority.  God Himself was preparing Moses for greatness.  Later on, God would speak to Moses directly, first from a burning bush, then from a cloud by day and fire by night, and finally "face to face as a man speaks to his friend."

The point is that God has uniquely qualified you for a specific purpose in this place and time.  If men voice objections, we must be secure in our calling.  We must remember that we were appointed by God, not elected by men.

This past week the US president has been in Brussels, Belgium for a meeting of the NATO member nations.  Afterward, he visited London and met with the Prime Minister as well as the Queen of England.  There have been quite a few news stories about different government Ministers over there, and their reaction to the President's visit.

My point here is that each government department or agency has a Ministry, with a Minister appointed to head it up.  There is a Minister of Defense, for example, and a Minister of Education, or Health, or Foreign Affairs.  These positions are important in their function and their purpose within the government, but they are not elected positions.  No one would think of approaching the Minister of Education, for example, and seriously ask, "Who elected you head of all the schools?"  The answer is obvious--the position was appointed by a person of higher authority than the one asking the question.  In the same way, whenever we get called out for exercising our spiritual gifts, we must remember that we were appointed by a Higher Authority.

A friend of mine has the gift of discernment.  When she points out doctrinal error, one might take a defensive position and ask her, "Who made you the authority on Scripture?"  Her answer is always, in the kindest, sweetest way possible, that on her own she is not an authority, but that God has given her a gift, and she is duty-bound to speak the truth in love to all kinds of error, wherever she may find it.  I believe that my gift is teaching.  However, when someone stands up and challenges me, I am often weak and wounded.  I will apologize, and back down, thinking that maybe I was in error on this issue; maybe I don't have the authority God gave me to speak truth to power.  "Maybe," I am inclined to say to myself, "I don't have the knowledge or experience at this time to address this issue to this purpose."  It is at those times that I need to reaffirm the calling of God in my life, and with Queen Esther say, "Who knows whether I was placed in this position for such a time as this?"

 

 

Pike's Peaked

If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.         --Psalm 139:8

When I was younger, my mom would often look at me and assess my well-being.  If I looked a little pale, drained, washed out, pallid, anemic, sallow, indisposed or ill, she would say, "Son, are you all right?  You look a little pekid."  (I think that is a mis-spelling, but I did it on purpose--the term as she used it had two syllables, whereas the more proper spelling "peaked" is often spoken with one syllable; and that pronunciation has a different meaning, as in "his work peaked in the 90's, and it has gone downhill from there.")

Fast-forward to this week.  I have just gotten back from a family vacation with my sister and our mother.  We spent three days in the Colorado Rockies, marveling at God's creation.  One of the sites we visited was Pike's Peak. At 14,115 feet, it is one of the tallest mountains in the Colorado Springs area.

It was my turn to drive my mother's brand new crossover vehicle--bigger than the car I drive, but not as large as some of the Sports Utility Vehicles on the road today.  Needless to say, I was trying to be very careful.  As we ascended past 11,000 feet, near the tree line, my sister commented that I seemed not to be enjoying the scenery as much as she was: my eyes were focused on the center-stripe in the middle of the road.  After she had made this observation, she laughed.  Out loud.  This was followed by some good-natured teasing.  "Don't drive too close to the edge, it's a sheer drop-off there," she said, followed by more laughter.

My grip tightened on the steering wheel, and after a few switch-backs where the road snaked up the mountain face, I started panicking.  I mouthed a prayer, "God help us."  Apparently, my sister thought I was kidding, because she laughed again.  "Mom," she said, "he's praying up here."  I was very thankful when the park rangers motioned us off the road into a parking area, and we had to ride a shuttle to the summit.  Even then, however, I could not look out the window of the 16-passenger van:  my eyes were focused on the seat-back in front of me.  I was praying for myself, my family, and the thirteen strangers in the van with me, but especially for the driver.

You could say this event brought me closer to God.

I let my sister drive down the mountain.  I was still not comfortable on the descent until we reached the tree line again.  I don't know if I thought that, in the event of an accident, the trees would break our fall, or if I felt more comfortable with evergreens in my line of vision, as opposed to only the sky and a sheer cliff past the edge of the road (mere inches from our vehicle.)  I suppose that I should be grateful that my sister felt secure enough with me behind the wheel that she could engage in some light teasing and laughter.  Unfortunately, I did not share in her revelry at the time.

You know, people sometimes talk about "mountain-top" experiences contrasted with periods "in the valley," to describe the highs and lows of their spiritual pilgrimage.  I get it.  In the modern mind trained by charts and graphs, up is always good, and down is always bad.  However, in the real world, valleys are often lush and fertile, while mountains are treacherous and steep.

Jesus said that with a little faith, we can move mountains (Matthew 17:20).  As we watched the mountain move past our vehicle, it took all the faith I had to continue the ascent.  It is the same with our walk:  if God has called us to climb the mountain, it is our duty to continue the ascent, step by step, even if our path seems unstable.  Even if the devil laughs at us, and mocks our fear, and points out the perils in our path, our God-given responsibility remains the same: to put the mountain behind us, and move past it.

There may be a time when our faith is strong enough to remove the mountain, and cast it into the sea (ref. Matthew 21:21).  I believe, however, that the only way to strengthen our faith to the point where we can remove the mountain completely is to climb it ourselves, as many times as it takes to conquer it.  The lady who was driving the shuttle to the summit of Pike's Peak was about as old as I am, but she was not afraid like I was.  She had been on that same road before, many times.  She was more familiar with the terrain because she had been over it time and again.  To her, it was like driving in the valley, but only because she had developed the skill and confidence brought on by climbing to the summit again and again.

You may think that your situation is difficult, that the climb is hard or the path treacherous.  You may wish that God would remove the mountain from your path.  However, it might be that God has placed you on that path for a purpose.  As John Bunyan wrote in Pilgrim's Progress,

“This hill, though high, I covet to ascend; 
The difficulty will not me offend. 
For I perceive the way to life lies here. 
Come, pluck up, heart; let's neither faint nor fear. 
Better, though difficult, the right way to go, 
Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe.” 

Friend, do not think your spiritual walk has peaked.  You may feel pekid along the way, but the Great Physician is by your side. I would encourage you to read the rest of Psalm 139.

You have enclosed me behind and before, and laid Your hand upon me.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is too high, I cannot attain to it.  Where can I go from Your Spirit?  Or where can I flee from Your presence?  If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.  If I take the wings of the dawn, if I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, even there Your hand will lead me, and Your right hand will lay hold of me.  If I say, "Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, and the light around me will be night," even the darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day.  Darkness and light are alike to you.  --Psalm 139:5-12

My weekly men's Bible study has been reading through the book of Jonah.  In chapter 2, Jonah said he prayed to the Lord from the belly of the fish--a cold, dark, isolated place that Jonah likened to Sheol, which means the placed of the dead.

I called out of my distress to the Lord, and He answered me.  I cried for help from the depth of Sheol; You heard my voice.  For You had cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the current engulfed me.  All Your breakers and billows passed over me.  So I said, "I have been expelled from Your sight.  Nevertheless, I will look again toward Your holy temple."  Water encompassed me to the point of death.  The great deep engulfed me.  Weeds were wrapped around my head.  I descended to the roots of the mountains.  The earth with its bars was around me forever, but You have brought up my life from the pit, O Lord my God.  --Jonah 2:2-6

Jonah was truly in the "valley of the shadow of death" (see Psalm 23:4), yet God was with him.  He is with you, as well.  Revelation 21:1 says that in the new Heaven and new Earth, there will be no more sea.  The treacherous oceans will no longer be allowed to swallow us up.  The pit will be there for the devil and his demons, but the mountain of Zion (the New Jerusalem) will be the throne of God.  We will be on that mountain in the presence of the Lord if we seek His face, and call on His Name.

Is it any wonder, then, that when I was feeling pekid on Pike's Peak, I prayed God's protection?