We Still Love You, Daddy
Stories
Contents
What's Up This Week
A Story to Live By: "We Still Love You, Daddy" by Chuck Cammarata
Shining Moments: "Life's Purpose"
Good Stories: "The Gifts Are Unrelated" by Paul Lintern
Scrap Pile: "Lift Up the Cross and Live" by Carlos Wilton
What's Up This Week
In this week's epistle reading from Ephesians, Paul describes how we are saved by the amazing gift of God's grace -- and this edition of StoryShare relates some of the different ways that grace comes to us. Chuck Cammarata shares a powerful lesson he learned about God's grace from the proverbial "mouth of a babe" in A Story to Live By, and this week's Good Stories includes a charming tale that shows how we can embody that grace for others through good works. In the Scrap Pile, Carlos Wilton offers insight into the multi-layered connections between the strange story of Moses' "snake-on-a-stick" in the Hebrew scripture and this week's Gospel text.
A Story to Live By
We Still Love You, Daddy
by Chuck Cammarata
For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.
Ephesians 2:8
Twenty years ago when I was a new pastor in my first church, fresh out of seminary, and anxious to make my mark in the world, I went through a period where I was so immersed in my ministry that I describe it as my time of career obsession. I was working seven days and five nights a week. Seventy-five hours was a normal week for me. And even though I lived next door to the church I was spending almost no time at home.
One night, after that had been going on for several months, I came home from a church meeting at about 9:30 p.m. As I closed the front door, my oldest daughter, Lori, who was five years old at the time, called out to me. She said, "Daddy, come up and give me a good-night kiss."
So I went upstairs to her room and sat on the edge of her bed. We talked for a minute or two. I asked about her day and told her about mine. It was the normal small talk of family life -- nothing major. I was about to lean down and give her a good-night kiss when she said to me some words I will never forget: "Daddy, why don't you play with us anymore?" She was referring to herself and her younger brother and sister.
I was stunned. After I choked back the tears, I explained to her about being so busy and wanting to do a good job for God and the church. She asked why God would want me to be at church and not with her. And it hit me -- God wouldn't want that. I wanted that. I wanted it because I wanted to be successful and important. But it really had nothing to do with what God wanted for me. In fact, I began to understand right then, as I sat on the edge of my daughter's bed, that it was sin for me to work so hard and neglect my children.
I apologized to her right then, and told her I would try to do better. I then leaned down, kissed her good-night, and turned to go. But as I got to the door Lori called out to me again. This time she said something to me that her mom and I had said to her many times when she had misbehaved. Her words went something like this: "You know, Daddy, even though you don't play with us anymore I still love you."
Once again I was touched with tears. But as I stood there staring at her with those tears in my eyes, I understood that it wasn't so much my little five-year-old beauty who was speaking to me as it was the voice of God coming to me through my baby.
God knew that I needed to hear words of grace that would strike my heart, that I might truly understand the depth of God's love and the breadth of God's forgiveness. My little girl helped me to understand that "It is by grace that you have been saved through faith, and this not from yourselves, it is the free gift of God..."
Chuck Cammarata is the pastor of Fairview Presbyterian Church in Fairview, Pennsylvania. He is the author of the CSS titles Lighting the Flame and Lectionary Worship Workbook, and he has contributed worship resources for The Immediate Word.
Shining Moments
Life's Purpose
For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.
Ephesians 2:10
Holly was washing the dishes, listening to her favorite gospel quartet on tape, when two men pulled up the driveway and came up the walk. They identified themselves as Federal Bureau of Investigation officers and asked Holly for her identification. They asked to come inside.
They were very polite when they asked about her husband's assets. Holly shared with them that she had questioned Jeff in the beginning about the steady stream of "toys" he brought home. But Jeff was so charming and he had convinced her that he was rewarded with perks for being such a great salesman. Holly showed them little notes that had come with the "perks" -- each one professing Jeff's talent at sales.
At first the "bonuses" were T-shirts -- then silk neckties. Then they turned into fine grain leather boots and an onyx ring. A full-length leather coat was followed by leather suitcases. Soon the "perks" turned into trips, a fishing boat, and a new sports car. Jeff brought home a reasonable paycheck, but bragged how these "benefits" made his dull job exciting. Holly always felt God had taken such good care of them through the years.
The officers were very kind to Holly as they questioned her. They asked to see the garage, the three sports cars, Jeff's jewelry, and the mink coat. They made lengthy notations in a notebook.
The men spoke slowly and looked Holly straight in the eye. They asked her point-blank how Jeff had accumulated such extravagant items on a mid-range salary. Then they told her: they had proof that Jeff had embezzled at least $800,000 from the company. Holly felt faint and nauseous. She was in shock.
Jeff didn't come home that night. Instead, he called her three days later, saying he had gone to another country and "she should go on without him." He told her he had made a very big mistake, that he was about to be caught, and needed to leave. Jeff told Holly he loved her.
It took Holly three months to realize Jeff was gone forever. And it took as long to convince the banks to change papers and possessions into her name. Holly was dulled and moved as if by remote control. She lacked energy, but she found inner strength: she was five months pregnant.
Holly moved into an apartment, then three years later moved into a small house. She made a comfortable life for her little son. When her son was seven, she married a man who adored her, a man who loved her son.
Her new husband, Bill, wanted children desperately, and by their third anniversary they had two girls. They were ecstatic, yet their joy was short-lived. Their youngest got leukemia and died on her second birthday.
But Holly and Bill continued to live life and trust in God. The years after their daughter's death were painful and difficult, but they concentrated on their two other children and made a good life for them. Holly's happiest days were watching her children graduate from graduate school and high school in the same week.
Holly loves Bill and feels God truly comforted her during her difficult periods in life. They feel they can survive if they hold close to their faith and each other. They know God has a purpose for their life.
(From Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit [Series II, Cycle B] by Constance Berg)
Good Stories
The Gifts Are Unrelated
by Paul Lintern
Ephesians 2:1-10
Lydia loved to give things away -- crafts, baked goods, items she picked up at auctions or sales. It seemed her mind was always thinking about who might enjoy a pick-me-up, an act of encouragement, an expression of love.
When she baked, she baked enough to fill several paper plates to take to neighbors, people at work, her daughter's teacher, some shut-ins at church.
When she learned a new craft, everyone knew it, because Lydia would share with them.
Once, at a garage sale, she spent a dollar for a whole box of old animal figurines -- muddy, greasy, ready-for-the-trash figurines.
She cleaned each one with an old toothbrush, glued it to a three-by-five card, and wrote a scripture verse on the card.
On the card with a little bird, she wrote: "Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"
Placing a sheep on a card, she wrote: "The Lord is my Shepherd."
One figure was an armadillo; on that card, she wrote: "Put on the whole armor of God."
And the figure of the pink and purple mouse, dressed in red bow tie and rainbow-colored top hat, on that card she wrote: "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds."
She greatly enjoyed this project, because she pictured in advance each person to whom she would give that figurine. The zebra was for the nurse who cared for her aunt, the lion for the old man who lived alone in the house behind her, the turtle for the little boy at church who broke his leg.
As she delivered them she enjoyed the responses of others and her own joy within.
One day, soon after she had delivered the figurines, Lydia was surprised to see at her door old Mr. Lyons (the one to whom she had given the lion). He handed her a little box which contained a beautifully carved teakwood dove -- smooth, intricately detailed, right down to the feathers and the compassionate eyes.
Lydia's eyes widened. "Oh, Mr. Lyons, this is beautiful. Where did you find this?"
His eyes sparkled as he said, "Inside a piece of wood; of course I had to whittle away some of the wood to find it."
"I am so overwhelmed," said Lydia. "This is so beautiful, such a special part of you. I don't know what to say. I gave you so little. You gave me so much. How can I ever thank you?"
"You already have. This is my gift to you. Your gratitude is your gift to me. They are not dependent on each other; they are both gifts, like God's gift of grace, and our gifts of gratitude."
He smiled and excused himself to return home. Lydia smiled with a tear in her eye and a rush of joy in her heart. As she walked back to the kitchen, she saw that Mr. Lyons had placed a card in the box. It read: "For we are what God has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life."
Paul Lintern is the pastor of Oakland Lutheran Church in Mansfield, Ohio.
Scrap Pile
Lift Up the Cross and Live
by Carlos Wilton
The anthropologists would positively have a field day with Moses' bronze serpent on a stick in Numbers 21:4-9. They'd flip open their notebooks and write it up as a totem, a fetish, a talisman. "Such things are used in primitive cultures," they would surely pontificate, "to ward off plagues and evil spirits. Displaying an image of the thing one most fears unleashes a certain sympathetic magic that causes its maker to feel protected. Primitive people the world over practice this sort of 'sympathetic magic.' "
It is, admittedly, a bit of a shocker to discover this sort of thing here in the Bible. With all the layers of redaction and editing that went into the composition of the Pentateuch, this little story has survived -- and, in fact, its very strangeness suggests that it's an absolutely genuine historical artifact. Nobody could make this sort of thing up. Every once in a while in the Bible these wild images of very ancient religious ideas crop up. (Jacob wrestling with the angel is one example, as is the account of the clay household gods that Jacob and his wives carry around with them.)
This ancient tale would have remained buried deep within the Old Testament, squirreled away like some dusty family heirloom, were it not for the fact that Jesus refers to it. In the third chapter of John's Gospel, in the middle of his famous dialogue with the Pharisee Nicodemus, Jesus trots out the old story of Moses' snake-on-a-stick. From here, Jesus goes on the quote the sublime words of John 3:16, the memory verse beloved both of Sunday school kids and guys in football stadiums holding bedsheets.
So what does Jesus mean when he says, "the Son of Man be lifted up"? Some say he's talking about the cross, some the resurrection, some the ascension. Most likely, it is the cross -- because the cross bears the closest physical similarity to what this ancient object must have looked like. When the poor, afflicted snakebite victims gazed upon that magical talisman, they were healed. When you and I look in wonder upon the cross of Jesus Christ, we too are touched to the heart.
Just after Jesus speaks of the Son of Man being lifted up like Moses' snake in the wilderness, he adds these words: "that whoever believes in him may have eternal life." The cross of Jesus is not altogether an image of abandonment and despair. For the human race, it is also an image of hope.
Moses raises the bronze serpent in the wilderness so the Israelites may look upon it and live. Maybe God raises Jesus on the cross for all to see, so the people of the world may look on him and live. If the bronze serpent is a way for ancient people to deal with their fear of snakebites, then maybe the cross of Jesus Christ is the way in which people of every age may deal with their fear of death -- and not just death as the cessation of biological life, but eternal death, cosmic oblivion, the black hole of existential despair. In the wilderness, Moses elevates an image of the thing ancient Israel most fears. On Calvary's hill, God raises up an image of the thing you and I most fear -- and somehow, gazing upon God's crucified Son, we know that there is no human suffering that is utterly beyond the reach of our Lord's healing and sustaining love.
Carlos Wilton has been the pastor since 1990 of Point Pleasant Presbyterian Church, in Point Pleasant Beach, New Jersey. He previously served as assistant dean and director of admissions at the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary. Wilton is a graduate of Washington College (B.A.), Princeton Theological Seminary (M.Div.), and the University of St. Andrews, Scotland (M.Phil. and Ph.D.). In addition to his parish responsibilities, Wilton is also an adjunct professor at New Brunswick Theological Seminary and a member of the writing team for the online preaching resource The Immediate Word, as well as the author of Lectionary Preaching Workbook (Series VIII, Cycle B).
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply click here share-a-story@csspub.com and e-mail the story to us.
**********************************************
StoryShare, March 26, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
A Story to Live By: "We Still Love You, Daddy" by Chuck Cammarata
Shining Moments: "Life's Purpose"
Good Stories: "The Gifts Are Unrelated" by Paul Lintern
Scrap Pile: "Lift Up the Cross and Live" by Carlos Wilton
What's Up This Week
In this week's epistle reading from Ephesians, Paul describes how we are saved by the amazing gift of God's grace -- and this edition of StoryShare relates some of the different ways that grace comes to us. Chuck Cammarata shares a powerful lesson he learned about God's grace from the proverbial "mouth of a babe" in A Story to Live By, and this week's Good Stories includes a charming tale that shows how we can embody that grace for others through good works. In the Scrap Pile, Carlos Wilton offers insight into the multi-layered connections between the strange story of Moses' "snake-on-a-stick" in the Hebrew scripture and this week's Gospel text.
A Story to Live By
We Still Love You, Daddy
by Chuck Cammarata
For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.
Ephesians 2:8
Twenty years ago when I was a new pastor in my first church, fresh out of seminary, and anxious to make my mark in the world, I went through a period where I was so immersed in my ministry that I describe it as my time of career obsession. I was working seven days and five nights a week. Seventy-five hours was a normal week for me. And even though I lived next door to the church I was spending almost no time at home.
One night, after that had been going on for several months, I came home from a church meeting at about 9:30 p.m. As I closed the front door, my oldest daughter, Lori, who was five years old at the time, called out to me. She said, "Daddy, come up and give me a good-night kiss."
So I went upstairs to her room and sat on the edge of her bed. We talked for a minute or two. I asked about her day and told her about mine. It was the normal small talk of family life -- nothing major. I was about to lean down and give her a good-night kiss when she said to me some words I will never forget: "Daddy, why don't you play with us anymore?" She was referring to herself and her younger brother and sister.
I was stunned. After I choked back the tears, I explained to her about being so busy and wanting to do a good job for God and the church. She asked why God would want me to be at church and not with her. And it hit me -- God wouldn't want that. I wanted that. I wanted it because I wanted to be successful and important. But it really had nothing to do with what God wanted for me. In fact, I began to understand right then, as I sat on the edge of my daughter's bed, that it was sin for me to work so hard and neglect my children.
I apologized to her right then, and told her I would try to do better. I then leaned down, kissed her good-night, and turned to go. But as I got to the door Lori called out to me again. This time she said something to me that her mom and I had said to her many times when she had misbehaved. Her words went something like this: "You know, Daddy, even though you don't play with us anymore I still love you."
Once again I was touched with tears. But as I stood there staring at her with those tears in my eyes, I understood that it wasn't so much my little five-year-old beauty who was speaking to me as it was the voice of God coming to me through my baby.
God knew that I needed to hear words of grace that would strike my heart, that I might truly understand the depth of God's love and the breadth of God's forgiveness. My little girl helped me to understand that "It is by grace that you have been saved through faith, and this not from yourselves, it is the free gift of God..."
Chuck Cammarata is the pastor of Fairview Presbyterian Church in Fairview, Pennsylvania. He is the author of the CSS titles Lighting the Flame and Lectionary Worship Workbook, and he has contributed worship resources for The Immediate Word.
Shining Moments
Life's Purpose
For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.
Ephesians 2:10
Holly was washing the dishes, listening to her favorite gospel quartet on tape, when two men pulled up the driveway and came up the walk. They identified themselves as Federal Bureau of Investigation officers and asked Holly for her identification. They asked to come inside.
They were very polite when they asked about her husband's assets. Holly shared with them that she had questioned Jeff in the beginning about the steady stream of "toys" he brought home. But Jeff was so charming and he had convinced her that he was rewarded with perks for being such a great salesman. Holly showed them little notes that had come with the "perks" -- each one professing Jeff's talent at sales.
At first the "bonuses" were T-shirts -- then silk neckties. Then they turned into fine grain leather boots and an onyx ring. A full-length leather coat was followed by leather suitcases. Soon the "perks" turned into trips, a fishing boat, and a new sports car. Jeff brought home a reasonable paycheck, but bragged how these "benefits" made his dull job exciting. Holly always felt God had taken such good care of them through the years.
The officers were very kind to Holly as they questioned her. They asked to see the garage, the three sports cars, Jeff's jewelry, and the mink coat. They made lengthy notations in a notebook.
The men spoke slowly and looked Holly straight in the eye. They asked her point-blank how Jeff had accumulated such extravagant items on a mid-range salary. Then they told her: they had proof that Jeff had embezzled at least $800,000 from the company. Holly felt faint and nauseous. She was in shock.
Jeff didn't come home that night. Instead, he called her three days later, saying he had gone to another country and "she should go on without him." He told her he had made a very big mistake, that he was about to be caught, and needed to leave. Jeff told Holly he loved her.
It took Holly three months to realize Jeff was gone forever. And it took as long to convince the banks to change papers and possessions into her name. Holly was dulled and moved as if by remote control. She lacked energy, but she found inner strength: she was five months pregnant.
Holly moved into an apartment, then three years later moved into a small house. She made a comfortable life for her little son. When her son was seven, she married a man who adored her, a man who loved her son.
Her new husband, Bill, wanted children desperately, and by their third anniversary they had two girls. They were ecstatic, yet their joy was short-lived. Their youngest got leukemia and died on her second birthday.
But Holly and Bill continued to live life and trust in God. The years after their daughter's death were painful and difficult, but they concentrated on their two other children and made a good life for them. Holly's happiest days were watching her children graduate from graduate school and high school in the same week.
Holly loves Bill and feels God truly comforted her during her difficult periods in life. They feel they can survive if they hold close to their faith and each other. They know God has a purpose for their life.
(From Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit [Series II, Cycle B] by Constance Berg)
Good Stories
The Gifts Are Unrelated
by Paul Lintern
Ephesians 2:1-10
Lydia loved to give things away -- crafts, baked goods, items she picked up at auctions or sales. It seemed her mind was always thinking about who might enjoy a pick-me-up, an act of encouragement, an expression of love.
When she baked, she baked enough to fill several paper plates to take to neighbors, people at work, her daughter's teacher, some shut-ins at church.
When she learned a new craft, everyone knew it, because Lydia would share with them.
Once, at a garage sale, she spent a dollar for a whole box of old animal figurines -- muddy, greasy, ready-for-the-trash figurines.
She cleaned each one with an old toothbrush, glued it to a three-by-five card, and wrote a scripture verse on the card.
On the card with a little bird, she wrote: "Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"
Placing a sheep on a card, she wrote: "The Lord is my Shepherd."
One figure was an armadillo; on that card, she wrote: "Put on the whole armor of God."
And the figure of the pink and purple mouse, dressed in red bow tie and rainbow-colored top hat, on that card she wrote: "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds."
She greatly enjoyed this project, because she pictured in advance each person to whom she would give that figurine. The zebra was for the nurse who cared for her aunt, the lion for the old man who lived alone in the house behind her, the turtle for the little boy at church who broke his leg.
As she delivered them she enjoyed the responses of others and her own joy within.
One day, soon after she had delivered the figurines, Lydia was surprised to see at her door old Mr. Lyons (the one to whom she had given the lion). He handed her a little box which contained a beautifully carved teakwood dove -- smooth, intricately detailed, right down to the feathers and the compassionate eyes.
Lydia's eyes widened. "Oh, Mr. Lyons, this is beautiful. Where did you find this?"
His eyes sparkled as he said, "Inside a piece of wood; of course I had to whittle away some of the wood to find it."
"I am so overwhelmed," said Lydia. "This is so beautiful, such a special part of you. I don't know what to say. I gave you so little. You gave me so much. How can I ever thank you?"
"You already have. This is my gift to you. Your gratitude is your gift to me. They are not dependent on each other; they are both gifts, like God's gift of grace, and our gifts of gratitude."
He smiled and excused himself to return home. Lydia smiled with a tear in her eye and a rush of joy in her heart. As she walked back to the kitchen, she saw that Mr. Lyons had placed a card in the box. It read: "For we are what God has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life."
Paul Lintern is the pastor of Oakland Lutheran Church in Mansfield, Ohio.
Scrap Pile
Lift Up the Cross and Live
by Carlos Wilton
The anthropologists would positively have a field day with Moses' bronze serpent on a stick in Numbers 21:4-9. They'd flip open their notebooks and write it up as a totem, a fetish, a talisman. "Such things are used in primitive cultures," they would surely pontificate, "to ward off plagues and evil spirits. Displaying an image of the thing one most fears unleashes a certain sympathetic magic that causes its maker to feel protected. Primitive people the world over practice this sort of 'sympathetic magic.' "
It is, admittedly, a bit of a shocker to discover this sort of thing here in the Bible. With all the layers of redaction and editing that went into the composition of the Pentateuch, this little story has survived -- and, in fact, its very strangeness suggests that it's an absolutely genuine historical artifact. Nobody could make this sort of thing up. Every once in a while in the Bible these wild images of very ancient religious ideas crop up. (Jacob wrestling with the angel is one example, as is the account of the clay household gods that Jacob and his wives carry around with them.)
This ancient tale would have remained buried deep within the Old Testament, squirreled away like some dusty family heirloom, were it not for the fact that Jesus refers to it. In the third chapter of John's Gospel, in the middle of his famous dialogue with the Pharisee Nicodemus, Jesus trots out the old story of Moses' snake-on-a-stick. From here, Jesus goes on the quote the sublime words of John 3:16, the memory verse beloved both of Sunday school kids and guys in football stadiums holding bedsheets.
So what does Jesus mean when he says, "the Son of Man be lifted up"? Some say he's talking about the cross, some the resurrection, some the ascension. Most likely, it is the cross -- because the cross bears the closest physical similarity to what this ancient object must have looked like. When the poor, afflicted snakebite victims gazed upon that magical talisman, they were healed. When you and I look in wonder upon the cross of Jesus Christ, we too are touched to the heart.
Just after Jesus speaks of the Son of Man being lifted up like Moses' snake in the wilderness, he adds these words: "that whoever believes in him may have eternal life." The cross of Jesus is not altogether an image of abandonment and despair. For the human race, it is also an image of hope.
Moses raises the bronze serpent in the wilderness so the Israelites may look upon it and live. Maybe God raises Jesus on the cross for all to see, so the people of the world may look on him and live. If the bronze serpent is a way for ancient people to deal with their fear of snakebites, then maybe the cross of Jesus Christ is the way in which people of every age may deal with their fear of death -- and not just death as the cessation of biological life, but eternal death, cosmic oblivion, the black hole of existential despair. In the wilderness, Moses elevates an image of the thing ancient Israel most fears. On Calvary's hill, God raises up an image of the thing you and I most fear -- and somehow, gazing upon God's crucified Son, we know that there is no human suffering that is utterly beyond the reach of our Lord's healing and sustaining love.
Carlos Wilton has been the pastor since 1990 of Point Pleasant Presbyterian Church, in Point Pleasant Beach, New Jersey. He previously served as assistant dean and director of admissions at the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary. Wilton is a graduate of Washington College (B.A.), Princeton Theological Seminary (M.Div.), and the University of St. Andrews, Scotland (M.Phil. and Ph.D.). In addition to his parish responsibilities, Wilton is also an adjunct professor at New Brunswick Theological Seminary and a member of the writing team for the online preaching resource The Immediate Word, as well as the author of Lectionary Preaching Workbook (Series VIII, Cycle B).
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply click here share-a-story@csspub.com and e-mail the story to us.
**********************************************
StoryShare, March 26, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
