Weekly meetings available to you are as follows:

Tuesday at 6:30 PM, Truitt Baptist Church - Pearl. Call Matt Flint at (601) 260-8518 or email him at matthewflint.makes@gmail.com.

Wednesday at 6:00 PM, First Baptist Church Jackson - Summit Counseling Suite - 431 North State St. Jackson. Call Don Waller at 601-946-1290 or email him at don@wallerbros.com.

Monday at 6:30 PM , Vertical Church - 521 Gluckstadt Road Madison, MS 39110. Mr. Roane Hunter, facilitator, LifeWorks Counseling.

Wednesday at 7:00 PM, Crossgates Baptist Church. Brandon Reach out to Matthew Lehman at (601)-214-4077 for further info.

Sunday night at 6:00 PM, Grace Crossing Baptist Church - 598 Yandell Rd. Canton. Call Joe McCalman at 601-201-5608 or email him at cookandnoonie@gmail.com.


Monday, May 10, 2021

"Lord, Quell My Desires. Give Me Patience. Satisfy The Longings Of My Soul With You."

I recently bumped into an old friend whilst dining out with the family (& a family friend).  He was there with his family, and was gracious enough to get up from the table to embrace me during this unexpected juncture.

This old friend is an exercise addict, therefore he's built like an underwear model.  As such, putting my arm around his back meant I didn't feel anything but sinewy muscle versus the typical sponginess of Mississippi man fat.  Those few moments were electric.  I caught up more with him / gained more from him via that opportunity to embrace than I could have via 30-minutes of dialogue.

Last week, I had a free night and ventured to an off schedule Samson Society meeting, but no one else showed up.  And neither this weekend nor last was I able to meet with my Silas.

And here on the homefront, we're right in the heart of May, by far the busiest month of the year.

I'm so sick of my family.  So ready for a break from all of them.  Living only with women is absolutely exhausting at times.  

Oh Lord Jesus, give me strength.

Saturday, May 8, 2021

Click Here To Ruin Your Life (& The Life Of Your Family) In A Split Second / "Men_In_Jock_Straps"

My mother adores Spring because it's go time for her to host all manner of garden parties at her abode.  And you must know that her garden is one of those Martha Stewart affairs, but it's at its most Martha Stewarty during the season of blooms.  Ms. Stewart would be so impressed with the perfectness of it all. 

One of Darlene's signature garden party beverages is mint tea.  This is essentially sweet tea combined with ginger ale and fruit juice / mint.  It's so sweet that it will literally put you in a diabetic coma.

And the garden party women love this punch-like tea, though most can only stomach one small glass because not only is it super sweet, but the carbonation bloats you instantly.  In fact, if you down it too fast, you'll surely belch like a drunk sailor.  And, of course, this isn't what Martha Stewart would approve of, therefore the bulk of this elixir typically comes to our office for Rob to consume post-garden party.

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An old Samson friend has seemingly found his feet at a local, family-owned (via one of his long-time friend's) gig that's serving his skillset well.  He and I caught up a few weeks back, and I came away relieved that he'd finally turned a corner relative to his very longstanding vocational woes.  

My only concern is whether his past will creep back in and somehow torpedo the situation.  For based on what he described to Rob, he's been handed a sizable amount of independence there.  Independence that could very well be his undoing.  Again.

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I came across this YouTube video of a late-night TV show earlier this week:  


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Self control isn't equally divvied out amongst human beings.  And it's especially unequivocal amongst the younger crowd.  

The World Wide Web provides a private browsing experience that's infinitely vast and varied.  And as such, it can instantly be catered to your own personal whims, interests for better or for worse.  

Of course, all of this wouldn't be such child's play were it not for search engines which give us the ability to instantaneously queue up whatever we imagine typing in.

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After a few days of downing mint tea during this past workweek, I became convicted that I've no longer the metabolism of a younger man.  Therefore, the excess sugar I was ingesting surely wasn't going to do my 48-year old waistline any favors.  

Yet, this delectable drink is such the prescriptive equivalent of liquid catharsis.  How could I now refuse its historical culinary "relevance", for I've been overclocking my pancreas by ingesting it for decades now?  

Perhaps drinking smaller and smaller quantities over the course of each day might serve as a compromise?  Or, should I simply pour it all down the drain, and instead pretend that it never showed up at the office to begin with (without telling Darlene)?

It must be poured out on Monday.

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Incest amongst siblings does occur at times.  Older brothers / sisters (bio or step) may just take advantage of their younger sisters / brothers out of curiosity / boredom / hormones.  Considering the fact that everybody's living together under one roof, and particularly within large (bio or blended) families, sexual abuse amongst siblings is a risk factor to be wary of.

I can vividly remember hopping in bed in the buff with my babysitter's (a neighbor) oldest daughter, Dianne.  She and I were both in elementary school at the time (same grade), and the game we were playing was called "Being Married".  We both knew just enough about the marriage bed to know that husband / wife may just take it upon themselves to sleep sans clothing.

A year or so later, I divulged this "Being Married" game to my dad whilst crying tears of shame.  For I'd held this secret close for quite many months.  His response was as follows:  "Did you happen to put your wiener between her legs?"

I repudiated in disgust.  As a then 9/10-year old, the thought of that made me want to vomit.  Plus, his logic for asking that particular question simply didn't compute.

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My old friend with the aforementioned (somewhat newish) gig also nonchalantly assured me during our dialogue that his computer was being monitored by Covenant Eyes there at his desk (he claims to have installed it himself).  But on the other hand, he also indirectly volunteered that his supervisors (including the owner) have openly demonstrated to him quite the cavalier approach to using their own office PCs for "fun & relaxation" - on occasion - versus work related usage.  My eyes grew wide upon hearing this.

Therefore, essentially, they've demonstrated poor judgment for him to perhaps follow suit.

And in time, he may very well.

The problem is, my friend has a criminal record.  Therefore, he's just one small step away from landing himself in jail were he to make a split-second poor choice with said workplace PC.  And that may sound overly critical of me to say, but my own story impresses upon me still.

And these type fears do keep me up at night.  For I care deeply about my friend.

And I despise this world that we live in, but specifically as it relates to the monster that is the World Wide Web.
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Late night TV used to be broadcast late at night (before YouTube brought "free" content to us 24/7/365).  Hence, the content was catered towards adults since broadcast TV fell under federal broadcast regulatory standards.  Growing up, my 'rents never watched late night talk shows, for they / we were in bed usually around 9:30 or 10 PM.

I can vividly remember sleeping at my deceased grandmothers (around the age of 12) in the same room with one of my - also now deceased - uncles and one or two of his sons (my cousins). I believe I was sleeping in a rollaway bed and they were piled into a convertible couch / bed setup.  

My uncle insisted on watching TV 'till late into the night, therefore I couldn't fall asleep.  His last late-night show finally concluded around 11:30 PM, upon which time the TV was (thankfully) turned off.

The clip I posted above was eye-opening to Rob earlier this week.  So much so in fact that it really tested my resolve relative to doing some World Wide Web searches for "men in jock straps".

Wouldn't that have been a fun rabbit hole to fall down in?

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A young man with a whole lotta kidlets was in the news this week.  You likely read about it.  He and his siblings are reality television celebrities and have been for a number of years now.  

He resides in Arkansas (I believe), and was arrested this week for downloading child pornography from the World Wide Web.  He's accused of doing this at work.  Federal agents made the arrest and seized the computer hardware at his place of employment.

As a boy, he'd been caught sexually abusing some of his siblings, therefore if he's guilty of downloading child porn, it would be in line with his well documented past mistakes.

What's being reported is he had no unmonitored / unfiltered World Wide Web access at home, yet at work, he was vulnerable.  Just as we all are, but refuse to see it that way.

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My employer (Delta State University) terminated me back in 2013 for breaking their IT policy, and my goodness, you would have thought I had set fire to the entire campus based on their reaction to both what I'd browsed to on occasion (during my 12-month tenure there) as well as what I'd posted (on my then personal blog) 30-days prior to the initial meeting with my superiors.

Regarding the latter, my last blog post was titled "In the Company of Pedophiles", and the content of this succinct post (per my recollection) compared me to pedophiles due to my penchant for consistently returning to gay porn consumption via the World Wide Web.  Per my knowledge of male pedophiles (who prey on boys), many utilize gay porn as a means to lure / exploit / prey upon their victims in anticipation of an assault.  

Despite the fact that I'd never committed an act of pedophilia, I considered myself to be just as despicable, for simply consuming gay porn via the World Wide Web.  This is no doubt a stretch, but you must realize, I was at my wits' end, desperate for help at the time.  And this was my way of digitally/ publicly self-flagellating.  

The Jerry Sandusky debacle had occurred in the northeast a few years prior to this, therefore universities, in particular, were on edge relative to both the risk of legal ramifications as well as bad press from so called faculty / administrative "bad apples".

And I was singled out as one of those potential "bad apples" due to my willingness to be as explicitly vulnerable / stupid as I was being.  And of course, it didn't help that I was a gay man married to a woman with three small children.  Rob = Freak.

And btw, I too (like Mr. Duggar) only had unfiltered / unmonitored World Wide Web access available to me ON WORK PROVIDED DEVICES (DESKTOP PC / CELLPHONE) throughout my tenure at Delta State University.

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Eventually, employers are going to have to become liable for what individuals who work for them can access via their company provided Internet-connected devices.  

When I stepped out of architecture school in 1995 with my beautiful, hard earned diploma, I wasn't equipped nor was I expecting to have to someday deal with the slippery slope that is the World Wide Web (available on my office PC).  What I did know was (& was prepared to do) I would have to use a PC all day to draw (AutoCad), and therein, I was equipped to handle that.

Therefore, for many of us, the availability of this bottomless pit of smut on our work computers is simply unreasonable.  Ridiculous.  Stupid.  

Too many lives are being ruined (including entire families of those convicted) by this nonsensical death trap / monster called the World Wide Web.

It's time to remove access to the smut via the World Wide Web from the workplace.  It's a jobsite hazard that's putting too many people at unnecessary risk.  Segregate it.  Put it behind a paywall.  Whatever.  Just do it now in order to save additional individuals from so much heartache.


Friday, May 7, 2021

Shunned By The Bull Elephants

The familial devastation within the black community here in America is to be blamed on black men's unwillingness to lead as husbands, fathers, and from there, leaders within their community.  Therefore, it is the black females who are tasked with these roles which they're not equipped to carry out.  This perpetuates the cycle of impoverishment and marginalization within the black community - all across the US. 

The black family - as a definitive unit - is so devastated that it's broken the foundation of they themselves as a people group. 

Everything, everything, everything is rooted in the family.  If it's toxic and dysfunctional, generational toxicity and dysfunction will grow forth.  If it's healthy and functional, generational health and function will grow forth.

And this familial devastation within the black community here in America had a starting point.  Interestingly enough, it synced up with the passage of civil rights legislation.  Legislation which was good and needed.  Legislation which many, many fought and died for (of all races) back in the 1960s.  But, as this milestone federal legislation was implemented, the black family, for some reason, seemingly began to fall apart.  

Instead of further unity within their family units (post-Civil Rights Act), the reverse began to occur.  And today, it's a lost cause.  Unreturnable.  Through.  Finished.  Failed.  It's mind boggling.

And what's so weird to me about these facts is prominent, present-day black men, who garner massive influence culturally, cower away from facing / harping on this present truth.  As if it's not a truth at all.

Again, it's mind boggling.

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Elephants exist within herds.  Herds are basically family units for these giant beasts.  And these herds have a distinct hierarchy.  

As such, when young bull elephants are sans an older bull elephant to relate to within the herd, there are relational problems between both themselves and others within the group.  Specifically, the behavior of the younger males is far less helpful relative to their roles as bulls.  

If you introduce an older bull elephant to a herd where young bull elephants have been running amuck, over time, the young bulls will "mature forward" via the very presence of these wise, older bull elephants. 

It's how God intended these elephant herds to thrive.  Top down.  All thanks to older maleness leading the way.

And that really serves as an exact analogy to human beings as well as their families, which I love.

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My first architecture job (as an architect intern) out of college was with a sole proprietor architect here in Jackson.  He'd one very large telecommunications client, and fortunately for me (in hindsight), this client's balance sheet - overnight - took a devastating turn (with the introduction of a failed signature product) exactly one year into my tenure there.  As a result, I was soon to be laid off.  And that was hard because this was my first job, but from the standpoint of me being properly mentored by my boss, it was the very best thing that could have happened.

The low point relative to me working for this architect was the day he called me and an interior designer colleague of mine into our small conference room to discuss an ongoing interior renovation project (for a law firm a number of floors above us within the downtown mid-rise we were occupying).  The conversation soon turned accusatory (by our bossman), and then suddenly, he stood up in his chair, overcome with rage.  I responded by also standing, for I felt certain I was about to be physically assaulted.  My dear friend, the female interior designer, almost peed her pants at this point.  

I'll likely never forget his words that day as he glared at me.

"All you want is to take over my firm!  It's your name you wish to be on the door!"

I have no idea how me, as an unlicensed, early 20 year-old architect, was supposed to actually carry out this preposterous conspiracy, but nonetheless...as I said, that was the low point relative to my tenure there.

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I cannot even begin to count how many fantasy men I've either had gay sex with within my mind or observed having sex (with each other) throughout my lifetime (again, within my mind).  And I do / have done this in response to my pent up loneliness as a younger man.  For I can control the fantasy, bringing high quality, extraordinarily beautiful men into the fantasy.  And oh my goodness, the climax!  It's exhilarating.  

I do this to placate my pain, some of which has manifested itself from the seemingly endless rejections from older men, both personally and professionally.  

Now, let me share a more present situation.

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Working for my parents is wonderfully ideal (for me), in terms of the environment, but considering my setup holistically, there's no denying the heartache I experienced early - especially - on relative to somewhat forcefully (& quite jarringly) leaving my architecture career behind (almost eight years ago).

As professionals, all three of us here at the office are members of local / national trade organizations that promote our industry politically and otherwise.  And those orgs host local events which bring together membership for educational purpose, updates, etc.

Right from the start of working with Bob & Darlene, I jumped headlong into these events, and this provided the opportunity to rub shoulders with numerous other professionals working within our field throughout Mississippi, many of which were older than I.

Yesterday, I attended yet another all-day (semi-annual) meeting sponsored by one of these trade organizations, but due to conflicting circumstance, my parents weren't with me.  Hence, I dressed extra sharply (in light of representing them) and went alone.

The table I sat down at eventually half-filled up with other men, two of which were father / son (& in business together).  I had the privilege of sitting adjacent to the bull elephant (the father).  And keep in mind, I've known these two men tangentially (church) for much longer than I've worked with Bob and Darlene. 

To my dismay, this bull elephant refused to initiate any dialogue throughout the entire day.  Even during lunch / breaks.  I asked question after question, for I knew just enough about his previous vocation to inquire about even that.  Therefore, by the time I'd volleyed 12-15 interrogative sentences with no reciprocal questions sent forth, I gave up.  From there, we simply sat in silence awkwardly.

All this being said, I was keenly reminded of how warmly affectionate he is towards his son.  For I could see that firsthand yesterday as they seemed supremely comfortable there together, muttering small talk under their breath whilst passing handouts between each other throughout the event.  

I grew envious.  For I don't have that kind of relationship with my dad.

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My late father in-law lost much of his vision due to complications from macular degeneration just one year after Angie and I were married (25 years ago).  At the time, he was working downtown for a large bank, in anticipation of retiring a littler farther down the road, but driving himself to work suddenly became out of the question.  

I also worked downtown (very close), therefore I volunteered to be his chauffeur.  And we did this for close to one year - to (& sometime) and from work every day.  

I saw this as an opportunity for me to sit daily with a bull elephant (my new father in-law!) and be loved / supported there in my 1991 Mitsubishi Eclipse.

But it wasn't like that at all.

My father in-law never once spoke.  Instead, he stayed silent for the entire duration of the trip each and every day.  It was like ferrying around a mannequin or better yet, a corpse.  This was one of the most disappointing outcomes of my adult life.  For my father in-law was a respected, intelligent, extremely articulate, devout Christian man.

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Many men at times act like idiots.  It's simply the sad truth of this broken world we live within. 

Don't be one of these dumbasses.  Especially if you're fortunate to be a bull elephant at this stage of your life.


Recommended Reading - Desiring God Post

 Act Like Men of God: Six Marks of Uncommon Conduct | Desiring God

Wednesday, May 5, 2021

What's Your Risk Tolerance?

Just a few quarters after we mortgaged our abode (back in 2000), a 2-bedroom single family home was constructed directly across the street.  A newlywed couple soon mortgaged it, and we looked on with interest as their first years of marriage (& homeownership) unfolded before our eyes.  

And then one evening I took note of her stacking his clothes up in sizable piles in the garage.  

She'd left them on their hangers, and I wondered aloud as to why she was disrespecting his wardrobe as such.  It was shocking though also telling.

Angie and I both had noticed that she was now obviously living there alone, but we assumed her husband had been called away due to his vocation (physician) for an extended period of time.

Barbara (the young wife) was pregnant then with their first child, and we knew that she herself had been reared in a broken home by divorced parents.  All of this, along with our own neighborly concern, hung heavily over our heads as we wondered what the future might hold for their family.

Eventually, the truth came out.  The young husband had been unfaithful, having chosen to commit adultery with the wife of another couple (whom they both were very friendly towards at the time), and this woman just happened to be considerably older than he was.

Once he came by to collect his clothing - at some unbeknownst hour to us, out of their garage, we never saw him living there with her again.  And eventually within the divorce proceedings, she was granted the house and all the remaining belongings therein.

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Angie has always had a rapid heartbeat.  She'd often times tell me about it beating wildly in her chest, so much so, in fact, that it would at times wake her up at night.  Apparently, unbeknownst to us, rapid heartbeat - as a chronic condition - can be an instigator of strokes.  I always chalked this cardiovascular condition to her general anxiety disorder, and perhaps they're linked in some way, but I'd no clue the condition itself could increase one's chances of stroke.  We learned this from her heart doctor (who she began to see post-stroke).

Speaking of stroke, particularly her stroke, Angie also took a devastating spill (fall) back in January '20 on our driveway whilst attempting to navigate a tight spot between my car and the driveway's perimeter hedge.  This fall resulted in her severely bruising her left arm - from her shoulder down to her wrist.  For she literally fell to the concrete on her arm with the full weight of her body behind it.

Her doctors discount the aforementioned fall having anything to do with her May 29, 2020 stroke, but none of those physicians treated her for that.  Hence, their understanding of the severity of her injury is conceptual at best.  Instead, she went to the chiropractor and had the appendage x-rayed there.  After determining that no bones were broken, she opted to tend to her internal bruising on her own.  Eventually, due to her arm being in a sling for so many weeks, her shoulder joint froze up.  Interestingly enough, she'd actually chosen to sleep on the couch the evening prior to waking up on (5/29) with stroke-like symptoms (numbness in her left foot).  She did so to sleep more comfortably, taking her left arm injuries into consideration.

Stroke patients are at risk for having additional strokes.  It's the nature of the neurological disease.  But will my wife experience another one someday, and if so, how severe might it be?

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When we moved to Cleveland, MS in the fall of 2012, we did not sell our abode at the Reservoir.  Instead, we were fortunate to be given the opportunity to lease it to a semi-retired couple who we'd known for many years.  When I was fired from my position at Delta State University in 2013, we immediately moved back to Jackson, returning our belongings to this home and settling back in.

Because our stint in the Mississippi Delta was so short, and we were afforded the opportunity to move back into our same 12-year old (now 13-year old) home, it seemed to our (then small) children (at least) almost as if we never really left.

Another couple from our church, Lakeside Presbyterian, had also moved away in order for the patriarch to take another position during that (almost exact) same time period.  And this couple was almost identical in age to Angie and I with also three small children.  The only difference was they sold their home here in Metro Jackson and mortgaged another within their new location (in AL).

Unfortunately though, he lost his job too (again, right about the time I was fired from mine), and they were then left with a home to sell in AL and nowhere to return to easily back here (which is where she at least wanted to be).

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The house across the street from us is occupied today by Barbara's mom; she rents it from her, and she will likely retire there.

Barbara's first child is now on the precipice of attending college, just as our first child is, therefore all that I described above that happened between her and her first husband (her daughter's father) occurred many moons ago.  Barbara's daughter also now has a younger brother whose biological father is her stepfather.  

To summarize, Barbara proceeded with a "take no prisoners" approach all those years ago to handling her first husband's infidelity, and both Angie and I believe that her divorced mother likely encouraged that mindset.    

This approach definitively removed any chances of her being cheated on by her first husband ever again.  Their divorce protected her from that occurrence repeating itself.  

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A major blow - both emotionally and monetarily - would occur to our clan if my sweet Angie were to die - of another stroke or otherwise.  Because of the latter descriptor, I've always had her insured via a life insurance policy.  But, that policy is not permanent.  In fact, it will term in 2023.  Therefore, at that time, she'll be sans life insurance unless we're able to acquire a replacement policy. 

Now, there are other options to that.  Such as converting her current policy to some form of permanent life insurance (generally a very costly solution).  And I've wondered about doing that.  In fact, I have her current inforce life policy annual statement on my desk at this very moment with all the necessary means of researching that further.  

But what I tend to return to - here recently - is what I wrote about early on.  That being her fall and all the physical suffering she endured from that arm injury somehow serving as a catalyst (perhaps coupled with the rapid heartbeat condition) for her stroke.  

Therefore, I'm much more willing to risk something similar happening again (& therefore making her uninsureable), knowing what I know about her health / physical issues from farther back into the past (pre-stroke).  Especially considering the now medications she's on as well as how closely she's watching her weight, tending to her diet, and exercising regularly.

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So what of our Presbyterian colleagues who found themselves within a bit of a residential quagmire immediately following the loss of the patriarch's new job?

Their financial situation grew complex quickly, and as a result, the ramifications of those complexities made a lasting impression - but especially on the matriarch.

At the present, the patriarch is living on the east coast (with the remainder of the family living in Metro Jackson), working in the same industry as he always has (for as long as we've known them), all alone.  And this asinine setup wasn't the first time they put this stupidity into play.  He also worked almost as far south as the Mississippi Gulf Coast, again completely separated from his wife and three beautiful children throughout the work week.  And two of those beautiful children are twin boys who're now teenagers.

Keep in mind that his position within these companies wasn't as owner nor potential owner (Key Man) but employee.

Why settle for such a safe yet dysfunctional setup?

To avoid the risk of going through similar pain and suffering again.

That's what it all boils down to.

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Many of you know that I'm a Registered Representative and Investment Advisor Representative.  As such, I work with people who're interested in making money while they sleep (securities).  Yet, to do this, I must firstly assess their specific risk tolerance.  And I do this by asking good questions, many of which are framed as hypotheticals / scenarios.

Life is not like that, yet there's no doubt that we are very much influenced by a plethora of both internal and external factors that serve to guide us relative to taking risks.

As Christians, considering certain circumstances, I would assume we're much less risk averse than your average bear.

But in certain instances, based on what I've witnessed, this is definitely not the case.