Gift Wrapping

Friday at MLJ, we had a gift exchange at our Christmas party. Everyone was invited to bring a gift and throughout the exchange, you could either pick an unopened gift or steal a gift from someone who had already picked. I was predictable and brought jewelry from J.Crew to give. When I purchased them, they came in a jewelry bag, a nice black box and then a small J.Crew bag. The J.Crew bag said J.Crew on it, obviously, but was nice enough to give as a gift bag. That was the plan. Until yesterday. We were talking around work about how if it was appropriate to not officially wrap our gift, but bring it in a nice gift bag that may give away where the gift was from. I was suddenly self-conscious about my nice J.Crew gift bag. Had I had extra time and didn’t work two jobs, I probably would have gone out and bought a different bag for my gift. I did not, and today everything went fine. No one commented on the packaging, they loved the bracelets. It’s silly to think I almost spent time, money and energy on packaging.

I’ve had three different conversations this week that have made me reflect on the way we wrap our testimonies – stories of what God is doing and has done in our lives – the same way that I felt the pressure to rewrap my gift exchange gift. I’ve had a version on this conversation three times this week. What is this fascination with making things look “good”? We want nice, neat before and after testimonies where the after is dramatically different from the before. I was addicted to porn, now I don’t even struggle, because of Jesus. I had an eating disorder, now I don’t struggle with control in any area of life, because of Jesus. I was never in a relationship where we weren’t having sex, now I don’t even struggle with purity, because of Jesus. If one of these is your story, I celebrate with you. God can deliver us out of those strongholds. It is a beautiful thing!

But what if you story is more like mine? Even once I found Jesus, I struggled to manufacture control of my life through eating. While I’ve seen victory, when things are tough, I’m still tempted to grasp for control in whatever way I can, sometimes wanting to go to unhealthy lengths with food or exercise. Is my story not a story of victory? Is God not at work in my life because I struggle? Do I need to re-wrap my story?

No. I see God to be so faithful in the struggle. It is in the struggle that I am reminded that dependency on God not self-sufficiency is the Christian life. I should be reminded everyday that the gift inside of the bag is the same –grace, freedom, life with Jesus – why should I re-wrap it? I want to embrace my brokenness because it brings me back to the cross. I want those who I do community with to feel safe to bring things into the light before they’re completely resolved. If I wanted to know everything that someone loves in their life, I don’t need to look further than their social media, but over coffee, the phone or a glass of wine, I want to know the real truth, without the pressure to re-wrap it.

Here’s to telling stories that aren’t quite complete yet. Here’s to celebrating the struggle because it makes us more like Christ. Here’s to living in freedom of not having to put our testimonies in better gift-wrapping.

The Beauty of Trust

Yesterday I woke up, served at a food pantry, swung through the Chick Fil-A drive thru, had lunch with sweet Back2Back friends, crafted wedding gifts, made dinner for my family, watched some West Wing, went to Barnes and Noble with my dad and then my mom and I talked about our dreams. It was a beautiful day.

It’s been a beautiful summer.

Life did a number on me in April. I didn’t know how to get back up, let alone if I wanted to. And the hits kept coming. I was pissed at life, pissed at the world, and frankly, pissed at God. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was talking with a friend last week whose in a similar place as me, and I shared what I think God says to us in the midst of heart break, confusion and frustration. I think He stares me in the eyes and says, “Caitlin, I know you’re pissed, but do you trust Me? Do you trust that I’m good? I care more about your sanctification than your immediate happiness.” I reluctantly grumbled, “Yes, God, I trust You, or I at least want to.” And a funny thing happened, I started to want to stand up again. Before I knew it, I was walking on my own two feet. Some days I’m back to crawling, but mostly I walk.

When I started to trust God, like really trust Him, I started to see that He knew what was best all along. Each of the three summers I’ve spent in Cincinnati, none of my close friends from school have been here, but this summer, not one, but two of my best friends have been here. What a blessing. That’s been God’s hand in my summer. The relationships I developed last summer at Back2Back have only grown this summer as I spend time with my old co-workers. I’ve even been able to serve at a food pantry in inner city Cincinnati, and pray through what it looks like to be the hands and feet of Jesus to the poor.

My sister called me at school after I didn’t get the job offer I wanted and she said that this summer would be a faith internship. She was right. Day by day the Lord grew my trust in Him. He showed up and showed off during what felt like a season of desperation in my young life.

This summer the Lord wanted me to learn how to trust in His goodness even when every part of my flesh was screaming not to.

This summer the Lord has shown me how He makes even the ordinary things beautiful even when I didn’t want to see beauty in my life.

I hope and pray that my trust in the Lord and His goodness only continues to grow.  I hope and pray that next time life knocks me down, I remember that I’ve been there before and that God is still good. I hope and pray that delight in the ordinary because God has made it beautiful.

Fairy Godfather

Some days I wish God was my fairy godmother… in correct terms I guess I should say, fairy godfather. I wish He could show up in the midst of my circumstances, wave a magic wand and things would turn out just the way I want them to. I’d call the shots. Even if He would just show up and grant me 3 wishes, all would be right with the world, right?  Wrong. This mindset of mine assumes that I know what’s best. Which is a big fat lie. Even if I knew what was best, my flesh is so strong that I would likely struggle to actually do what is best. So if God isn’t my fairy godfather, and He doesn’t give me wishes, what does He do? This question has rattled through my head a lot over the past 2 weeks.

First, He enters into my suffering. God Himself put on the clothing of humanity and walked around on earth for 33 years. Jesus knows what disappointment feels like. Jesus knows what betrayal feels like. Jesus knows what pain feels like. Because Jesus has entered into my suffering, when I feel down, I can remember that I am not alone; I have a perfect companion along with me, holding my hand as I face each day’s challenges.

Second, in the midst of uncertainty, instead of fixing my problems, God reminds me of my identity. Because my identity is in Christ, nothing about my circumstances can change who I am. I am wholly and dearly loved. I am redeemed. I am free. I am richly given grace. I am hidden in Christ. I share in His inheritance. Nothing can change my identity, instead, The Lord gently reminds me of who I am and what He thinks of me. My immediate circumstances do not change, but instead, I am changed; changed into a woman confident of how God is working and how He will continue to work.

Wishes can be wished, but the constant companionship of Jesus is incomparable. Instead of having a fairy godfather, I have a heavenly Father who is willing to jump into my suffering with me – He doesn’t save me from it, He reminds of who I am and who He is in the midst of it. Unlike a limited number of wishes, Jesus says to me, “I will be with you always, until the very end of the age” (Matthew 28).


Today, my younger brother, Jake received disappointing news. He’s 12, so the disappointing news was things not working out the way he thought they would with soccer tryouts. Tears were cried and he was disappointed. He came down the stairs after showering with a scowl on his face repeating over and over and over again, “I don’t want to talk about it.” My dad said, “I know you don’t want sympathy, but I also know Cate is the probably the best one to talk to right now.” The beautiful thing about this place I am right now is that I understand, maybe better than ever before, other people’s disappointments. Because I feel so raw, I also feel very ready to jump into other people’s sadness. I just kept saying to Jake, “We’re so proud of you. We’re so proud of who you are and what you stand for. We’re just so proud of you.” When you’re unsure how you feel, discouraged or even disappointed, hearing that the people that love you still love you no matter what, and more than that, are proud of you, is all you need to hear. I cried like a baby on graduation day when my mom looked in my eyes and told me she was proud of me, because I needed to hear the truth from someone close to me, since I was struggling to believe it for myself.

I have seen community come alive to me in the past couple of weeks. I was sharing with my sister just how cared for I feel by people. My parents’ friends have offered to send my resume to their employers, friends have introduced me to opportunities, co-workers at J.Crew have asked me how the job search is coming; I’m incredibly blessed. In different words, my community has rally around me and reminded me that they’re here for me, that they love me, and that it’s all going to be okay.

We live in such a broken world. And Jesus entered into it. He entered into the pain, suffering and uncertainty of our world. Because He loves us. I try to walk with Jesus and follow His example, sometimes entering into other people’s pain, suffering and uncertainty.  As Jake headed up to bed tonight, I said to him, “I wish I could tell you the feeling of hurt, rejection and inadequacy wouldn’t ever happen again, but it will.” I’m oh so encouraging, right? “But, remember who you are and just how loved you are, it will be okay.” It’s all we can say when others are hurting. It wouldn’t be okay because it will go away, which it will, but because of Jesus. He left heaven to enter into the crap we experience. His willingness and triumph remind us that we’re not alone, that we’re loved no matter what, and that if we are followers of Christ, we’re to remind each other of those two truths, even when the recipient is having difficulty believing the truth.

Life Lessons Learned on the Strugglebus

I work at J.Crew. If you’ve never worked in retail, you can’t really relate, but if you have, you know the feeling of spending quite some time organizing, folding and size ordering a table only to look at it thirty minutes later and have the table completely messed up. As I drove home from work on Saturday night, I couldn’t help but feel like this situation, which I’ve encountered numerous times the past couple days, was exactly what my life felt like. I worked to nicely order everything and over the course of a couple of weeks, everything fell into disorder. Unlike the tables of clothes, my life isn’t so easy to put back together and reorganize. But, I keep asking myself, “Would you change it? Would you go back?” Over the course of the week, I’ve watched my answer change from yes, to no. Hopefully that doesn’t sound insensitive, but I think its progress. I may be on the strugglebus, or even driving the strugglebus, but I’m learning things here that aren’t easy, but are important for me in walking with Jesus for a lifetime.

One of my high school English teachers would make us repeat the phrase, “Embrace the ambiguity.” In the midst of difficult chapters of literature, when we would get tempted to quit, she would stop us and have us say, “Embrace the ambiguity.” She said that the quicker we got uncomfortable not knowing everything, the more we would enjoy the text and then start to understand it just a little bit better. I like knowns and outcomes. Feelings are my favorite, but sometimes I just need concrete, which leads me to search for answers in places I’m never going to find them. This side of heaven there are things I’ll never know – why people keep bringing me back for final round interviews of jobs that I’m simply not qualified for, is one that I just don’t quite get. Why seemingly good things fall apart is another. The quicker I can abandon my entitlement to know and understand the why, the better off I will be. There are so many things I don’t understand right now, that I’m being forced to embrace the ambiguity that is my life.

I’ve never been good at faking anything. Especially faking being okay. My emotions always give me away. Usually this is really annoying, especially when I’m sad and can’t stop crying, or when I’m just feeling down and the thought of putting on a happy face seems impossible, even if it’s just for a couple hours of work. But, I’m learning that realness and even rawness invites others to be real and raw. I have nothing else to offer the world except me, and the evidence that my life provides to the transforming power of Jesus. The more real I am, the greater Jesus looks to others because they can see just how broken I am, and be encouraged about what it looks like to be loved in spite of that. Being raw encourages authenticity in others.

At this point, I don’t know what next week looks like; I could be starting a new job, or still be at J.Crew. The future is so uncertain that I have to live day by day. I like to plan, but right now, I’m being forced to live in the present. I wake up in the morning and ask Jesus what He has in store for the day. I can’t really worry about the future because I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen. So I can only really take things one day at a time, and trust that God has the rest under control. Plus, at risk of sounding cynical, this prevents me from getting my hopes up about what the future has to offer. I’m still healing from that one, and very thankful that I get to live here in the present not wishing the future would hurry up and get here already. Life on the strugglebus is teaching me the value of the present and how to make the most of it.

What are you learning in the season you’re in… even if you’re not on the strugglebus? Are you a willing learning, or dragging your feet like me?

Choosing to Trust

I-74 is a highway that runs between Cincinnati and Indianapolis. I’m sure it connects many more cities, but this is how I know it. I-74 has seen many of my tears as I drive back and forth between Cincinnati and Indianapolis and Cincinnati and Bloomington. I drove 1-74 from Indianapolis where I was at IndyCC home to Cincinnati my sophomore year, so convicted by sin of emotional dependency and idolatry that I was moved to tears. I returned home to Cincinnati from Bloomington in the fall of my junior year crying as I dialogued with the Lord about self-image and the unhealthy obsession I had developed with eating. After my junior year I cried as I drove 1-74 home unsure what my senior year would look like because so many of my friends had graduated. This February tears rolled down my face as I drove 1-74 back to Bloomington after a rough weekend at home reminded by God that He is in control of relationships within my family. I bawled like a baby as I drove home to Cincinnati 2 weeks ago, this trip significant because I was moving home, and wrestling with the fact that my life did not look like I had pictured it looking. If you believe I’m put together, just take a road trip with me – my road rage, random bouts of tears, verbal processing and rapid lane changing would quickly correct your beliefs. Something about the open road puts my mind into overanalyzing mode and makes me emotional.

Today I cried yet again on 1-74 returning to Cincinnati from a weekend wedding and visiting friends in Indianapolis. I spent today listening to a couple sermons, two entitled,  “Choosing to Trust.” As I listened to the words of James MacDonald, and reflected on my thoughts over the past month, even past 5 months, something became abundantly clear – trusting God is a choice. One that must be made multiple times a day, but the only way to grow one’s trust in God is to recommit things to Him. After the sermon, I said out loud to God in my car, “I trust that Your plans for me are good because You are good, and You love me. Your will, not my will, God.” I kept driving, half listening to the next sermon, half overanalyzing my life, (what I can I say, this feeler is also very analytical when it comes to trying to figure out situations) I started to get upset and anxious again. I felt convicted to repeat the same words out loud that I had said 15 minutes ago, “I trust that Your plans for me are good because You are good, and You love me. Your will, not my will, God.” A calm swept over me as I remembered an image that has been floating through my head for the past couple days. In this image, I’m on a tight rope taking one baby step at a time away from land, but unsure where exactly this tight rope is leading me. After each step I take, the Lord whispers, “Do you still trust me?” I grasp His hand a little tighter as I adjust and try to take the next step battling every fiber in my being that just wants to sprint back to the security of land. James MacDonald said in his sermon that we surrender things to the Lord and tell Him that we trust, and then we may have to do the same thing 30 minutes later or days later. He also reminds the audience that we will always have to deal with uncertainty. Perhaps that’s where God has me right now, trying to teach me how to deal with uncertainty in a healthy way, and not overanalyze every element of my life.

My goal this week is when I get overwhelmed, uncertain or upset about my circumstances to repeat the words I said in the car, “I trust that Your plans for me are good because You are good, and You love me. Your will, not my will, God.” Even if I say these words 10 times in a day, it will eventually make it from my mouth to my heart. So many things are out of my control right now, but I do have a choice to make – will I choose to trust God with my circumstances, with this season, and with my life? It starts right now, and each and every moment.

The Visible & the Invisible

I had a hard day today. It was one of those days that I regretted putting on make-up, ate ice cream out of the carton at 11am and considered going back to bed instead of into work. I’m tired of hearing that I don’t have enough experience for jobs, or being asked what my long-term plan for my life is. I’m convinced that anyone who can tell me what they think their life will look like in 10 years should be kicked hard in the shins. It’s just not reality. Not for me, and not for most people – I’ve asked around. I sat in my car for a couple minutes after a quick trip into JoAnne’s Fabric and had a yelling match at God in my head. It went something like this, “Lord, I know you have purpose and the fact that I am where I am right now is somehow good for me, I just don’t see it. I’m done. I’m ready to just be done. I want to know why I’m here because I can’t see your purpose in it. You say wouldn’t waste experience and here I am doubting that I can even do ministry, I feel so completely disregarded. I don’t see it.” Uncertainty brings out the doubter in me, that’s for sure.

This evening I’ve been trying to work through some of this stuff. I know my circumstances aren’t going to change overnight, but I want my attitude to change, but for me I struggle to fake things, I can’t fake an attitude change, I need to change the belief, or figure out how do that. As I’ve been reading through the Gospel of Mark, I found myself judging the disciples just a little bit – feel free to judge me now, I deserve it. Jesus’ disciples watched Him feed 5,000 people and then the next time there were a large number of people to feed (4,000), they wanted to run for the hills thinking it was impossible. Reality is, without God both of those situations are impossible. The amount of food that they had in front of them could feed a family, not thousands of people, but it did. In between those two events, Jesus calms a storming ocean even as the waves are crashing up onto the ship that the disciples are in. Without God, the disciples and the ship would have been no more.

As I’ve thought and prayed through these events, I’m reminded just how much I have in common with the disciples. When things get rough, I fixate on the visible reality right in front of my eyes. My inexperience, my joblessness, my singleness, my lack of community, and the list goes on. Just as the disciples did. They fixed their eyes on the visible – multitudes of people to feed and the raging seas. I, just like the disciples, forget that there’s another part of the story. It’s invisible. That’s why it’s easy to forget. Even as I reflect back on my pity party in my car, one word came up numerous times – see. There is an invisible part of my reality – God’s goodness cannot always be seen to me. He has prepared me to whatever comes next; He is teaching me about His character, even as I wallow in self-pity. He declares that the best is yet to come. He continues to ask me to take one more step of faith into unchartered territory, against what make sense to my rational (pretend I’m rational) mind. But I want to see evidence, I don’t just want to believe it might be there, I want to see the purpose. One of the most beautiful things about God to me is how He weaves the visible and the invisible together all for His glory. But my earthy perspective prevents me from seeing the weaving some days. God, would you grant me the eyes to see how you’re weaving the invisible and the visible together in my life? And on difficult days, like today, just help me to believe that the invisible exists and that there’s more than what I can see.

“…blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” John 20:29

“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 5:18

Life in Transition

I don’t do well with transition. Not for a lack of trying or praying. It was actually my transition to college when Jesus captured my heart because I couldn’t make sense of my own life anymore. Anyways, I started praying for my transition out of college last summer, and throughout the semester I haven’t stopped. The prayers have looked different – help me finish well, prepare community for me wherever I end up, not my will, but Yours, God. This transition has already been particularly difficult, and I’ve confessed to friends feeling lost, broken and confused. I feel like a sheep wandering aimlessly. I’m just struggling with how to move on post-college, which leaves me paralyzed and unsure if I want to get out of bed in the morning. I toss and turn all night and then it takes all my strength to put one foot in front of another and walk to class.

In the midst of feeling so broken, or as I keep referring to myself, “a hot mess”, I’m trying to say good-byes, finish up discipleship for the year and celebrate a great time living with my roommates. While my brain is running a million miles a minute, the Lord spoke a sweet truth to me this afternoon. I was confessing and crying and upset that I have nothing let to give, nothing left to offer. God so kindly reminded me that I have never had anything to bring to the table. It has never been about what I have to offer. God declares that His power is made perfect in my weakness. I have never felt so weak in my life.

My sister encouraged me to make a list of all the times I’ve felt overwhelmed, inadequate and paralyzed by the future and claim truth over it. It was beautiful to process through God’s goodness in seasons when I felt overcome by my emotions. My ability to acknowledge that God is good is not conditional on how I feel. I walked to campus yesterday and told the Lord that because my feelings are fleeting, I will cling to what I know. I know that God is good. I know that God is faithful. I know that God is working all things for my good. I know that despite that I bring nothing to the table except my tears, God will use my weakness for His good.

Dead to Sin

I started this semester flat on my face in sin. I was crying out to God and desperate for His grace. Well, I’m always desperate for His grace, but the first week of the semester reminded me of it. I had talked big game about wanting to truly enjoy my last semester at IU, but every fiber of my being felt like I was starting it off on the wrong foot. I started to realize that some of the decisions I was making were not good for me, or pointing people to Christ, but instead leading them into sin. The more I sat in my sin, the farther God seemed to be from me.

So what’s a girl supposed to do when God feels distant? Well, first I cried. Then I prayed, some sad pathetic, wallow in self-pity prayers. Finally, I talked to a couple close friends and confessed my sin. And then I prayed some more. Here’s what I began to understand: God doesn’t call me to flee from sin for His sake, but for my own sake. Sin clouds my judgment. Sin makes me question my identity. Sin isolates me from community. Sadly, there was some sin behavior that I had become very comfortable with in my life. In my daily quiet times, I would ask God that He reveal Himself to me, but I wasn’t actually looking for Him; I had become content with the way I was living.

Thankfully, God is good. Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross is once and for all. He died a brutal death so I can live in freedom from condemnation. When my flesh and Satan tell me that sin is okay and can be compromised with, God’s Word can fight the lies. Sin is serious. Sin affects my view of God and my view of myself. God calls me (and all believers) to purify myself from all ungodliness. Why? So I can see and experience Him. I’ve spent some good time in Romans 6 the past couple weeks, asking God to speak to me. Paul writes to the Romans, “For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin – because anyone who has died has been freed from sin” (6:6-7). My old self was crucified on the cross with Christ. Why? So the body of sin might be done away with. Sin has lost it’s power on me, until I give power back to it. The more power I give sin in my life, the less I will see Jesus because Jesus is the opposite of sin. There is only so much time in my day, if I fill it with sinful things, and things not for the Lord, the less I give Him.

My identity is not that of a sinner. I am a daughter of the highest King. I have been chosen and not rejected. But, I forget that. I choose to sin and put myself and my desires above God. I give sin power in my life again. When you give Satan an inch, he’ll take a mile… he’s sneaky and manipulative like that. I want to see Jesus and walk closely with Him, which right now looks like taking drastic measures to flee from sin. I pray that I can live out what Paul writes to the Philippians, “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain the resurrection from the dead” (3:10-11). Here’s to choosing Jesus over sin, even when sin seems like not a big deal, because sin will leave me wanting more; only Christ can truly satisfy.


I’m learning lots this summer. I’m also healing in places that I did not realize I needed to heal. I’m thankful for the Lord for this; I’ve also gotten very convicted about what I value in life. And if the way that I live is reflective of these values. So, as I start to prep for next school year & start to try on different things I want to do post-college life, I decided to write about what I value. I think it’s important to evaluate… which is different critiquing because I want to reflect and grow, not sit around and talk about all the things that are wrong with me and wrong with the way that I’m living. First and foremost, I value Jesus; His death on the cross, His spirit in me and the example He set for me. It is because of Him that I feel compelled to even talk about the other stuff. Because I want to be more like Him and be more changed by His love. So here we go…

I value honesty. And because I value honestly, I will tell you that I’ve watched a lot of Grey’s Anatomy this summer. A lot. Like 160 episodes. And I’m not ashamed of it. But on a more serious note, honesty and realness walk hand in hand for me. When I don’t know the answer, I will be honest and admit it, sometimes too quickly. The high value I place on honesty sometimes gets me in trouble because 1) I assume that people actually care what I really think and 2) I’m not always graceful in telling what I believe to be true. I’m working on both of those though, honestly.

I value growth. Even when it hurts. Which it usually does. Because it has to. I am a work in progress; I’ve seen that growth in my life looks like one step forward and two steps back, but at least I’ve taken that one step forward. We’re all constantly changing. It’s hard, but it’s good. I want my life to reflect Jesus more and more, but that requires me to die to myself and to be transformed into the image of Christ, which is growth. Growth in a person who loves herself less and loves Jesus more. I value growth in myself and I also value it in others. I give snaps for small steps of faith and get excited over the tiniest little thing that demonstrates growth.

I value stories. I’ll do almost anything for the sake of a story. One thing I’m sure of – God writes beautiful stories. He’s the best author. I love reading stories – real and made up – and I love listening to people tell their stories. Stories inspire me, they teach me and they force my eyes upward to God, the one who has carefully tangled all of our stories together from the beginning to the end.

I value truth and grace. While these should be two separate values, I have trouble living them out equally in my life, so I’ll keep them together now. I want to speak more truth and extend more grace. I value the truth that is spoken in the Bible and the grace that God demonstrated towards me & humanity in Christ’s brutal death on the cross. In my life, most of my problems come from a place of not valuing truth and grace enough because if I did, I’d fear and respect God more. And want to obey more. But hey, I’m learning and growing.

I value people. And their opinions. This goes hand in hand with valuing stories, but I love people so much that I want to spend my whole life fighting with them and alongside them. I believe that each person is created in God’s image and that there’s something good in each of us worth fighting for. I wish I was better at investing in and listening to people. Maybe if I stopped watching so much Grey’s Anatomy I would. I can’t wait for heaven where I’ll get to learn about people and spend eternity with them. If I can pry myself away from dancing with Jesus and asking Him lots and lots of questions.

I could keep going. I value freedom. I value family. I value friends. I value fitness. But I think this is my starting point. At this point in time these what I believe to be important in my life. The things I will fight for. I want to live in light of what I believe to be important. I want to walk closely with Jesus and have what He values become what I value. I pray that this be true of me, that I can value what God values above what the world does and because of that, He can be glorified.