You are browsing the Blog for Relationships & Dating - eirejames.com.

← Previous Entries
avatar

2009

January 1, 2010 in My Life, Reflections on Grief

I have tried to repress my inner desire to write about the past year, or to talk about the coming one. However, I just can’t avoid it. Something about the mile marker of not only a new year, but a new decade as well seems to me to need some kind of written recognition. So with that, I throw in my thoughts to the heap of opinions on the year 2009.

I must say that I am none too sorry to see 2009 depart. My year was rocked with the intrusion of cancer into my mother’s life, and ultimately, her death. Yes, it was a hard year.

Seeing someone you love under the curse of a disease like cancer is incredibly hard and challenging. I don’t know how many times I went to bed last semester crying out to God for some kind of normalcy in my life. People would talk of plans for the break, how normal it would be, and I was faced with a return to a very abnormal situation. People would talk about plans for the summer, and I would wonder if I could even grant myself the idea of planning on one more break with my mother, much less any sort of summer plans. I watched from a distance as my mother continued to battle the disease, wondering just how much information I was getting over the phone. I didn’t really know how to talk about it with people, and people didn’t really ask me about it very often. There were times everything seemed as though it could be normal, but a call home would often remind me that it wasn’t.

How does one of the most influential people in your life simply cease to exist, in one year?

I’m perhaps still very much in shock when I think about one year ago. We went on a hike recently that intersected a similar hike my family took last year at this time. It was almost surreal to me to think that just a few short months ago, life was normal. I’m coming to terms with the absence, but not with just how quickly it really happened. Wow, if I had only known where I’d be now…

I think at the start of a new year, people often wonder what the future holds. I certainly do. But in this past year, I’ve realized just how glad I am that I don’t know the future. If I had been told a year ago, as my mom and I lived out a normal, happy mother-son relationship, that she would be gone a year later, I’m not sure how I would have handled it. Had I been told at Spring Break last year that it would be my last glimpse at the normal routine life of my mother, would I have welcomed those words? Doubtfully. And even after learning of her cancer, and it’s severity, had I been told that she would be dead before the close of the year, I don’t know that I would have been ready for it.

After all, when are you ready to learn that someone you love is about to die?

I think it is the mercy of God that we don’t know the future. My people told me after my mom’s death that they didn’t think they could have handled a similar situation the same way. That is certainly a testament to the grace God showed me and my family, and still continues to do so. But it also is a reflection of the result of walking the path before you. A year ago, I wasn’t ready for this; six months ago, I wasn’t ready. Now, I’d hesitate to say I’m ready, but I am at peace. I wouldn’t have been a year ago.

That isn’t to say there weren’t good moments of 2009. I particularly loved my study trip to Ireland. I’ve longed to travel overseas for years, and the opportunity to study for six weeks in another country was the best possible answer to that longing. Of course, it also further gave me the travel bug too. But I enjoyed my brief moment in Ireland. It was the best possible contrast to the news of my mother’s cancer.

Another highlight was the spring break trip I took with my friends, to my own backyard, quite literally. I was fortunate to bring a large group of college friends to my house, and do some camping nearby. I love where I have grown up, and it is a joy to share that with others. Of course, it too was a tainted trip, for it would be the last time I saw my mother well.

There were trips to Chicago, Nebraska, and Cafe on Broadway. Laughter, shared memories, and times with people. I was surrounded throughout the year by good people. My friendships grew, and I met new people. And in the middle of the most difficult news of my life, I was surrounded by more genuine friends than I think most people have. The only times I spent alone were the ones I chose to spend alone; that speaks very highly of more than a few people’s character in the circle of relationships I am blessed with.

My relationship with God grew in many ways, for nothing turns you to God more than a crisis at home. Quiet times that seem optional when all is well suddenly become the only way to keep going from day to day. Too bad it sometimes has to be that way, but at least it produces a good result.

And I enjoyed my family. Before the onsought of cancer, when everything was normal, I enjoyed sharing my college experience with my dad, mother and brother. I loved hearing about the changes at home, the books my mother was reading, the jobs my dad had, and the new drivers permit my brother held. I enjoyed the breaks I was home, getting to spend time with them. Then cancer came. But though cancer intends to destroy, it did not destroy my family. My close family became even closer, as we stood by my mother’s side, starting each day by praying with and for her, pausing in the midst of the day to pray again for her, and concluding the day by praying again. My mother didn’t want me to stay at home, even though she was ill. I think that would have been hard for her to have seen: the future of her child altered by her cancer. Of course it still altered my life, but not before it gave me a new appreciation of my mom, and the rest of my family. Nothing makes you hug someone tighter, than the realization of just how frail this short life really is.

So 2009 is over. I’m glad it is, but it would be incorrect to call it a horrible year. For with God, even what should have been the darkest year of my life, is only a dip in the stream. Had my mother not become ill, it would have been probably a fantastic year. But then again, some of the best lessons were from the reality of her condition. Both at home, at school, and among friends, life had a different perspective. I think I was more intentional with my life as a result of my mom’s cancer. It made 2009 just a little bit better at times. I hope the coming year brings more joys than 2009 did, but I also know that 2009 laid the foundation for what lies ahead. For it is just a step in the path. A cracked, uneven step from my perspective, but nonetheless important on the way. A year from now, come what may, the events of 2009 will affect the events of 2010. That should be interesting to see.

Welcome twenty-ten, it’s good to see you.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
No Comments »

avatar

Looking at Loss

December 21, 2009 in Reflections on Grief

Tell someone you just lost your mother, and immediately you’ll have more notes, hugs, and sympathy than you know what to do with. It is good and it is needed. I find it interesting that, though people may not have experienced the same thing, universally people understand how hard it is to lose someone you love.

I think some people assume I must be having an incredibly difficult time in the wake of my mother’s death. Certainly, it is hard, but I think I’ve laughed more than I have cried in the days since her parting. The day I found out, several people told me that they thought they were more emotional about it than I was. How can someone learn of the lose of their mother, a very close friend, and that same day turn around and genuinely laugh and smile?

The shortest and most simple answer is the peace of God. Without God, I know my perspective on everything would be incredibly different. God promises peace, and he gives it generously to those who ask for it. It probably sounds cliché to the reader, but in a way I can’t even begin to describe it; in the most difficult time of my life, God has been there.

Christians know of God’s promise to never leave or forsake us, but I think at times it is easy to feel left and forsaken. In an hour where it would be very easy to feel that God has forsaken me, I have found instead that God is closer than ever. In Him I have joy, and that joy isn’t dependent on circumstances. I’ve always hoped and believed that it would be there through the darkest storms, and now I know it can be. I may have lost my mother, but my joy did not depart with her.

But perhaps another part of my grief, is understanding that there are two ways of looking at it.

On the one hand, it would be very easy to look at the death of my mother and feel cheated and robbed. No twenty year old should lose there mother; I think most people believe that intuitively. It can be very easy to start remembering my mom, and then start looking at all the lost opportunities. My future, my career, marriage—should I be so blessed, children, the lessons I learn, the people I know; there is so much that she’ll never get to see or talk about. Yes, it is very hard to think about those things, and it can create a feeling of being robbed.

On the other hand, and the view I choose to ascribe to as best I can, I can remember my mom’s life and all of the good memories with her. As I have remembered, talked about her, looked at family photos, and the home she created, I know so well how blessed I was to call her ‘mom’.

I suppose I’m biased, but she was an incredible woman. It was the love of a gracious God that allowed my life to not only intersect with hers, but to be shaped by it in the way only the role of ‘mother’ can shape a child. There are reminders of her motherly love everywhere I turn, and rather than be frustrated by the loss, I rejoice in the great gift I was given in a mother. In some ways, I can’t even feel sorrow knowing how much I really had.

Certainly, it is easy to say I lost so much; and I did. But by that very same token, I had so much. For whatever reason, God chose to make that relationship end earlier than most mother-son relationships do. But I am intensely grateful that even as brief as that time was, it was good time.

Some people don’t even get to know their parents, some people live in broken homes, and some have parents who don’t love their children as they should. To me that seems the greater loss. I may not have had a long relationship with my mother, but the years I did have were good years. I’m thankful for that, and that every time I remember her, it will be with a smile and a laugh, because that was who she was. I won’t have the pain of a lifelong relational wound whenever I think of her.

Ultimately I don’t really like using the word ‘loss’ or ‘death’ since because of the sacrifice of Christ, my mother’s death was really only a temporary separation. It is a loss only in that I must live these few short years on earth without the present-ness of my mother’s relationship. And to that, I can only say, I truly had so much. I have not lost, but gained; for now I can say that even though she is no longer here, my relationship with her is better than before. It may sound strange, but I appreciate her now even more than I did a year ago. I’ve always know I was blessed to call her mother, but I see that now more than ever in her absence. That too is a gift, for since I will see her again, I can give her an even bigger hug, and say “I’m so glad to see you mother.”

I’ll shed my tears, and I’ll have my sorrows, but it is only a reminder of what a gift I had. To my God, I am thankful for the beautiful years with my mother. To my mother, I am thankful for the love and care she showed. And to my friends and family, I’m thankful for the incredible support you have shown me. Yes, I have not lost, but gained. I truly have so much, and for that, my tears are tears of gratitude and joy.

What do you have?

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
1 Comment »

avatar

Something to be Thankful For

November 18, 2009 in Cancer, My Life

Sometimes I feel like all the discussion on being thankful at Thanksgiving becomes cliche. I’m a thankful person, I’m grateful for the things that God has given me. But with Thanksgiving drawing near, this year I’m finding that being thankful has many new dimensions.

 

I write this as an encouragement to my (in particular) college readers to be thankful for something this Thanksgiving: your family. I know that ‘family’ and ‘friends’ are often the first things that we say when we list what we are thankful for. But going beyond that, I encourage you to be thankful for the time you have with your family this Thanksgiving.

 

If you aren’t familiar with my life of late, my mother was diagnosed with cancer over the summer–the second time in her life to receive a cancer diagnose. Unlike eleven years ago, however, the diagnoses this summer was terminal. There is no medical treatment for her, and her time-frame, according to the doctors, is very short. Now my mother’s story is still unfolding, and the time she has is up to God, not the doctors, but her situation has provoked a lot of thinking for me the past 6 months.

 

In particular, I realize as Thanksgiving approaches, I have a certain amount of jealousy towards my friends as they talk about their Thanksgiving plans. In general, the pain of my mother’s situation doesn’t come up talking to others–even when I’m talking about her. Talking about fall break was not a problem at all. But recently I’ve noticed in myself an ache whenever I hear about Thanksgiving plans. I’m going home, and really looking forward to seeing my family, so why does this topic cause this reaction in me?

 

You see, what I am coming to realize is that I realize what I’m missing. The majority of the people I talk to will be spending Thanksgiving with their families, or friends. There will be the usual traditions for each respective family, food, fellowship and memories. What will I be going home to? My family–and plenty of my own good conversations and memories. But Thanksgiving for me this year looks like something totally new and different. There won’t be the typical Thanksgiving day because, in truth, no day is exactly typical anymore. My mom can’t cook, and that is hard not because of the food so much as because of the change. This Thanksgiving for me is not normal. I am confronted with a situation that, baring the grace of God, means my family won’t be the same a year from now. In a season that is so family focused, the reminder of the frailty of life is an even more constant reminder.

 

This thought strikes me even more because, one year ago, everything was fine.

 

Normal. I cannot express how much I miss the concept of “normal”. One year ago, I thought everything was going great, and it was.

 

But things can change quickly. I went home last spring for Spring Break. It was a great time with my family and with some of my friends. But guess what–that was the last time I saw my mother “normal”.

 

My return from JBU after finals ended was to a mother who could barely walk to the door to give me a hug. Of course, at that point we thought it was only an inner-ear infection (oh how I wish it had been!). Within a couple of weeks, with my departure to Ireland, she didn’t even stand up to hug me goodbye, or drive with us to take me to the airport shuttle. And it was in Ireland that I learned she had major cancer, and a very short time-frame of life left. Thats a span of just about two months. Two months, and my entire life changed unalterably forever.

 

I share the timeline with you because I want to make a point: we don’t know what the future holds.

 

I know how easy it is, especially in college, to take your family and friends for granted. It is hard to picture life changing at all. But it does.

 

My goal is not to be depressing at all. The future can–and will–also hold many joys. And I hope too that if you see me, you aren’t hesitant at all to talk about Thanksgiving. I need to hear “normal” and I want to be excited about what you have in store for you. So don’t fear that talking about Thanksgiving, or anything, might be too hard for me to hear. I need that conversation more than you may know. But what I do ask is that when you see me, you’ll remember too that things can change and that you won’t take your time with those you love for granted. Unless you have ever lost someone close to you, especially from some unnatural and unexpected cause, valuing the time you have with others is incredibly easy to take for granted.

 

This Thanksgiving, take a minute and thank God for the time you have with the ones you love. Enjoy them, and don’t let the moment pass you by without enjoying it to the fullest you can. You can’t know what the future holds, but you can enjoy what God has given you in the moment. That’s what I’ll be doing this Thanksgiving, enjoying the precious time God has given me with not just my mom, but my entire family. I hope and pray there are many more Thanksgivings with them, but I realize now so much better that the future is not certain. I only hope I can make the most of the present, and I hope you can do the same.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,
1 Comment »

avatar

The Words of my Mouth

August 10, 2009 in Devotional Thoughts

“May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight,
O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.”
Psalm 19:14

If God were to audit you speech, what would he find? Would your words be pleasing to Him? This year words and speech have been on my heart a lot. The scripture says a lot about our words and our speech, but I wonder how seriously we take that sometimes. Gossip, complaints, words against our brothers and sisters in Christ, cruel jokes, unkind speech…these are all things I have heard come from the lips of Christians, and from my own lips. How sad it is that we fill our thoughts and words with these things!

This is a blog I have been intending to write for some time now, but keep putting it off because I keep finding new things that relate to this subject, and I keep wrestling with it myself. So instead of writing one blog on the topic, and trying to say everything (which for me would result in a small book, considering how wordy I am) I have instead decided to devote a category of my blog to “The Importance of Words.” Here I intend to post scriptures and stories that relate to this. I believe this is critically important to our Christian walk, and I for one want to look at it more closely.

I want to quote James 3:9-12 to start this “series” off. It really struck me what he says concerning the words that we speak about others.

“With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.”

I believe that “cursing” isn’t just speaking a spiritual curse over someone, as a witch might do. I’ve always read verses on cursing as meaning something along those lines, a curse; a spell. But what if it was more than just that, what if it were any negative word we spoke? What if our grumblings against other people, especially other Christians, was the same as cursing them? What if our thoughts about others were just as powerful as our words?

Ouch.

If then, that is what God means when he says not to curse one another, we ought to take this seriously. Our mouths praise God, and our mouths speak words against our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. When we speak against other people, we are speaking against a person made in the likeness of Almighty God. As James says, “This should not be.”

Judgment lies in the hands of God, not ours. I don’t believe this means to never say anything against the actions of another person, or that a wrong should not be addressed. Sometimes it is good to note how one might handle a situation differently than another person did, and sometimes a situation needs to be corrected. But we must be careful to distinguish between learning and gossip. Too often I think this type of conversation, “I don’t think So-and-So did that right” becomes just plain gossip and grumbling. One example I have heard among many single people is grumbling against dating couples—something I too have done. Though I have been hurt by decisions others have made, I want in no way to let that become grumbling: cursing, as James puts it. My heart has held onto decisions of others at times, and I have criticized in my heart and in my words them for those decisions long after it was the appropriate time to do so.

This type of thinking nearly brought some friendships to a close for me. I became guarded as I saw others doing things I didn’t like, and that in some cases hurt me. I also let lies form in my mind, comparing past actions to present, and concluding things that lead me from desiring friendship. I held onto old hurts, that though forgiven, I was unwilling to completely let go of. Things that happened in one friendship started to affect how I saw all of my friendships. Of course, when you are hurt, you become guarded—not always a good thing. Coupled with my struggles with loneliness, it became a potent combination that became close to terminating many good friendships with good people. God thankfully stopped me in that process, and healed that in my life.

That is why this is such a crucial area of our lives.

By allowing words and thoughts to crop up about others—by allowing ourselves to “curse” them—we foster something we do not want. It opens the door to hurt friendships—because you are speaking negative, hurtful words about others. It opens the door to lies—because you start to believe more and more lies about the people you are speaking about. It prevents you from seeing the good in their lives—because you become focused on their faults. It does not edify, but rather it destroys and tears down, at the expense of an image bearer of the Most High God.

They may seem like trivial, harmless words to you, but they are not harmless. Words are a powerful weapon that can be used for good or for evil; for life or for death. God takes words very seriously. We call the scriptures the Word of God. God spoke the world into existence. His words are powerful, and so are ours. We should guard ourselves then, with the words—and thoughts—that we speak. To do otherwise is to add a heavy weight to our spiritual walk. It hinders our ability to walk the Christian walk, something that should frighten us.

I for one do not want to let both praise and cursing come from my mouth. There is no place for it in my life, according to scripture. Certainly even though I have been working on this area for a while, I am not perfect. But by the grace and love of Christ, I hope to change. And I challenge you to pray about the words you speak. Ask God to show you what you are saying that is right, and what you are saying that is “cursing.” Ask Him to come and change your heart and your words. It’s time to grow up as Christians, and build each other up instead of tearing down. Let us consider the weight of all our words, and change our speech accordingly. It is critically important to our Christian walk.

May He find the words of your mouth, the meditations of your heart, and the words of my mouth and meditations of my heart pleasing to Him.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,
No Comments »

avatar

The Questions I am Asking.

February 14, 2009 in My Life

What is a friendship worth to you?

Are the people you hang out with important to you, and if so, how do you show that value to them?

I’m a question guy. I spend much of my life thinking about questions, and what the answers to those questions could be. Today, even, someone saw me and asked if I was doing alright. Apparently I looked depressed; I wasn’t, I had just finished a class that covered some of the Holocaust. So I was thinking. Pulling themes from that, books I’ve read lately, and current life. Anyway, nothing to smile over, but I personally was doing fine. Digression aside, my point is that I seem to come up with a lot of questions as I cogitate my life, and what goes on around me.

Continual topic of questions: friendships, and people.

Last week, I people watched. I also blogged about it. Summary: basically I sat in the caf for a good 45 minutes to an hour, in the middle of a high-traffic area, and only three people acknowledged my presence in any way. In some ways, I wasn’t too surprised. In other ways, I was shocked. It wasn’t hard to seem me, I was even trying to make eye contact with people I knew. Nothing. So, I’ve been thinking about the implications of that this past week.

One, how do I come across to the people I know? Talking about the situation, someone commented that, knowing that I am an introvert, and do actively seek time by myself, if they were to see me would probably leave me alone. Which was interesting. From my perspective, I seek time to myself in a place other than the caf. Yes, I do go sit by myself sometimes, but I also have no issues with someone I know sitting with me. I just don’t want people feeling ‘sorry’ for me because I’m alone; not people leaving me alone per say. If I truly want to be alone, I make sure I will be left alone. In my room, on a walk outside of JBU, a drive…I have my ways. Anyway, the comment was interesting because it made me wonder what people think of me (not a new question for me, or most people I would suspect). And specifically, do I come across in a way that would make someone question whether or not they would talk to me if they saw me by myself. Interesting…

Do I do that? (Reoccurring question; keep reading)

Another question, how ingrained in our own lives and worlds are we that we miss the world around us. Sitting that day in the caf, I was ‘ignored’ by friend and stranger alike. And by ‘ignored’, I mean no eye contact, no glance in my direction, no talking, nothing. I’m sure people saw me, it’s not as though I was invisible. And I think most of what happened was simply because people were focused on the task at hand: getting food (which is quite important). But, are we so wrapped up in what we are doing that we don’t notice something outside of what affects us? Of course we see people all the time…but do we notice them? Or are we just going through life, and unless it involves us, are we content to just leave them alone?

Do I just walk through life like that?

The sad truth is, I don’t just wonder if I do; I know I do.

I have walked passed so many people, and completely ‘ignored’ them.

I have seen people I know, and made no effort to go out of my way to say anything to them.

Even to close friends.

Why?

Is my life so important that I can’t deviate my planned course for one minute to say ‘hi’? Am I too comfortable in my own life, that I don’t want to step out a bit and interact?

So, taking such questions into consideration, I tried to be at least a little bit different this week. I slowed down a bit as I gathered my food from the different stations. I looked at people. Not in the way that ignores their presence, but actually noticing they exist. Making eye contact. Talking to people.

It’s interesting, even trying to make eye contact, few people do. I have been trying to catch people’s glances as they walk by, and some do, and some act like they don’t want to admit that I am even there. But, if nothing else, hopefully I haven’t acted the same way.

Why? Why is this even important?

Because, I think friendships have value. People have value. To just walk by with my head down, or avoid eye contact, is to treat a person in a way that doesn’t dignify them with that value that they have. I don’t think that’s right.

The other night, I was working through some personal issues I have with my friendships. I’m going to be open here, this is something I work through a lot. The details aren’t important, but basically I was dealing with feeling left out. Somehow I seem to do this a lot. For unjustified reasons, I use pointless examples to convince myself that I have been left out, and that people don’t care about me. It’s a lie, I know it’s a lie, yet I buy into it again and again. It’s the trivial things usually too, things that no one intends to mean anything at all. Yet, being the over-analytical person I am, I read into them. Some days it might even be walking down a side walk, and feeling completely non-existent as people walk by.

It’s a weakness that I am having to turn over to God, bit by bit, piece by piece. I wish I didn’t go through this, that I would learn. Yet, it draws me closer to God. The only place I know to go with that frustration and that insecurity, is to God. And every time, every time, he picks me up.

In fact, he did the other night. Something had happened, or more accurately, hadn’t happened for me, and so I was struggling with feeling left out. A danger this leads me to sometimes, is to not care about the friends I do have—after all, if I feel like they don’t care about me, why should I keep working to have the friendship? (selfish, yes; wrong, yes; yet I have this question go through my head time and time again) So, that was the place I was at. I prayed a simple prayer: “God, highlight the important friendships in my life; I question how much people value my friendship, show me people that do.”

In the past 26 hours since I have prayed that prayer, here is what has happened. Somehow, my feelings of ‘aloneness’ and feeling left out completely disappeared. The issue that had caused this in the first place, well it’s still there, but I think I view it in a correct light. Not only that, but multiple situations, little things, have happened since then, answering my prayer so well. Just one example. Right after, almost literally, praying that prayer, something happened. I was sitting in a secluded corner of Walker, only a few people were there. I had wanted to be in the prayer closet, but it was occupied, so I chose a corner of the student center for myself. I had my Bible and an iPod. I was in my own world as I could be. A friend of mine came in at the other end of the building, proceeded to head towards the dorms, but he noticed me. And he stopped, changed directions completely, and came to my table to say ‘hi’. I don’t even remember the conversation, it probably lasted a minute at the most. But that single event meant a lot to me. God answered my prayer in that simple action. My friend may never even know what that meant to me. He wasn’t trying to affect me in any way, only to talk a bit. I had enough value to him in that moment to justify a change in his plans to interact with me.

So, where I’m at right now is asking the question, how do I convey to the people around me that they have value, and that I recognize that? What are the simple things I can do to show that, because it is often the simple things that say the most.

I fail at this in 101 different ways. But I hope to fail only 100 ways next week, and 99 ways the next. God will certainly have to show me this again and again. I will have prayers exactly like that again. I will feel alone and left out again. I’ll be guilt of the exact same ‘ignoring’ other people again. And each time, hopefully by God’s grace, I will be a little better. It seems worth it to me, even if I still feel like I go through the same basic issue again and again. The steps may seem insignificant, almost non existent. But better to take them than to never try at all.

After my people watching experience (which, by the way was NOT one of my ‘feeling left out’ situations), I think this may be something a lot of people could be better at. Imagine what could change if those small, insignificant decisions were made to actually notice people.

What if we walked down the sidewalk and looked at people, instead of at our feet?

What if we, as we rush through the lines of the caf, we take note of the people around us? Nothing extraordinary, just eye contact and a smile. It says a lot.

What if, instead of focusing on the next place we need to be, we take a moment to go out of our way to say ‘hi’ to someone?

What if we just tried to show that we care?

These are the questions I ask. These are the answers I am trying to find. Do you?

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
5 Comments »

← Previous Entries