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Posted on May 24, 2013 in church stuff, faith shifts | 18 comments

affiliation, certainty & conformity to freedom, diversity & mystery

every day people are straying away from church

i am in the thick of it writing the first manuscript of faith shift: hope for spiritual refugees, church burnouts and freedom seekers. i’ve had all 5 kids at home, all kinds of never-ending refuge craziness, on top of may being the busiest month of the year. of course i waste time i don’t have asking myself “what in the %(#&@%!^!!^ was i thinking, saying yes to this project?!?”

but it’s too late now, and as i much as i like to complain, it is fun pulling it all together. and just when i think it doesn’t matter, i get an email or have a conversation in real life where i am reminded how many of us are in the midst–or on the other side–of a radical faith shift and how crazy &  lonely & freaky it can feel.

when it’s all said and done, faith shifting involves a huge amount of grief. we lose so much, all kinds of things that seemed to hold us together for so long. what was once crystal clear becomes muddy.  what felt comfortable now feels foreign. what worked, now doesn’t.

i believe that one of the central parts of a faith shift is moving away from the core values of affiliation, certainty, and conformity that are embedded into much of contemporary christianity and moving toward a faith that values freedom, diversity, and mystery.

it’s crazy to me that this process is often perceived as radical or sinful or rebellious, but we can’t escape the fact that most of our traditional church systems–especially conservative or fundamentalist ones–are built firmly and solidly upon the core values of affiliation, certainty, and conformity.  they keep a lot of wheels spinning round; they are reliable, clear, predictable and make groups work.

here’s the short version of what they mean to me:

affiliation –  a sense of being part of a team or club or something bigger than us.  if you’re like me, it felt awesome to be adopted into a new “family” in the early years of my faith and i related to the feeling of being connected to other christians not only in my church but in the wider world, too.  knowing which team we’re on is powerful.

certainty – black and white, right or wrong, good or bad, strong or weak, godly or ungodly.  much of life before a faith shift is built on certainty about what God means, feels, thinks, expects.  part of our certainty includes helping other people be clear on what’s right and wrong, too.

conformity – groups have norms and behaviors that we as humans have a natural aptitude for adapting to. we learn what it takes to be part and we do it.  we learn by watching and joining in.  some of it is conscious and some of it is far more unconscious, building on our desire to somehow belong.

as i look at these three values of my early faith it’s easy to dismiss them as all bad. while i now disagree with many  methodologies behind them, i respect that part of healing and moving forward to new places requires making peace with the past.

affiliation, certainty, and conformity used to be big deals to me. they meant everything. they guided the way i thought, talked, behaved, and connected with God.

then they stopped working.  they outlasted their usefulness. they no longer resonate.  i won’t do anything to be part, my certainty faded away years ago, and any demands for conformity make me into a crazy person.

i’m trying not to look back with disdain but instead embrace my deep desire to keep walking toward three compelling & worth-pursuing values on the other side of a faith shift–freedom, diversity, and mystery.

freedom – instead of people pleasing and doing what everything we can do to conform to be part of the group, freedom is  finding our voice and passion and feeling free to lead, grow, learn, experience, practice, try without asking for permission.  freedom also helps us let go of trying to control or convince others and accept people just as they are (and ourselves, too). it’s a deep and strong security in who we are apart from a group or label.

diversity – homogeneous groups make me nuts now.  once you’ve tasted diversity and are around a wide range of beliefs, theologies, and life experiences, we can never go back. living in the tension of diversity and what it means to love each other despite our differences is so glorious (and way harder, too!)

mystery – embracing a bigger God that surpasses what we can get our head around, “i don’t know’s”, and far more expansive ways to connect with God beyond only the Bible. some people are really scared of this word, but those who have unraveled certainty value the magnetic beauty of mystery and the healing, hope, and challenge it brings.

freedom, diversity, and mystery do not need to be feared.

and we don’t necessarily have to leave church completely to find them (although i respect sometimes it’s necessary); we just might have to leave “church-as-we-knew-it” and find some new forms that we would have never before considered as a possibility.

many systems fear freedom, diversity, and mystery because they cannot be controlled or contained. affiliation, certainty, and conformity are fairly easy tasks and create a uniformity that is far simpler to manage. letting faith out of the box and giving people freedom jacks with an industry and man’s ability to manage God for other people.

but when i read the gospels, i can’t see how affiliation, certainty & conformity in the ways we’ve made them out to be was what Jesus had in mind.

yeah, we long for freedom, diversity, and mystery for a good reason–it’s far more consistent with “faith.”

peace, hope and courage to us all as we slowly & bravely move from affiliation, certainty & conformity to freedom, diversity & mystery. it’s a bumpy, beautiful, often terrifying path but so worth it because it all points toward love. 

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Posted on Apr 18, 2013 in faith shifts, healing, jesus is cool, the refuge | 30 comments

losing beliefs, not faith.

faith is khalil gibran

it’s been a wild and sad week around here. i’ve been around some pretty amazing open broken hearts and i am grateful.  thanks, too, for all your love & prayers for our little community; they mean more than you know. sometimes what happens when it comes to blogging is that i get an idea, know exactly what i want to say about it, never take the time to write it down, and then some kind of crazy thing happens and it gives the whole thing new perspective. a few weeks ago we finished up our walking wounded: hope for those hurt by the church class. it’s always such an amazing experience, to have a safe place to process grief and loss and find a way to move forward and a lot happens in those 4 weeks.

a big topic for so many of us is how hard it is to untangle our experiences with people & the system from our experiences with God.  they are so enmeshed with each other that as we separate from church-as-we-knew-it, we often don’t know how to still hold on to God.

the same thing can happen with belief and faith.

beliefs become so tangled up based on our church experiences and what we’ve been taught for so many years that we are supposed to “believe as a true-blue Christian”  that as we shed, unravel, deconstruct certain beliefs, we wonder if we’re actually losing all of our faith.  wondering if the last belief falls to the ground, any other last shred of faith will dissolve into the air and we’ll be left with absolutely nothing.

oh, how many times i have wondered this!  especially when i look at doctrinal statements or “what we believes” for certain ministries that i can no longer fully align with and keep my integrity.  as a pastor who really is passionate about Jesus and healing and transformation, it can feel really scary and i wonder “is what’s still left enough?”

i keep finding it is.

faith is different from beliefs or dogma. 

in so many ways, faith is what’s left when everything else is stripped away.

it’s that enduring crazy unexplainable thing that sustains when nothing else can.

it’s more powerful & stronger & more enduring than a list of beliefs and boxes to check or initial.

it supersedes language.

i keep remembering that doctrinal statements don’t save people or draw people to God–faith does.

i think of how many times in the gospels Jesus tells people “your faith has saved you” in some shape or form. not “your belief in all the right things has saved you”

to the “sinful” woman who busts into simon the pharisees house, “your faith has saved you” (luke 7:50)

to the hemorrhaging woman who desperately touches his robe for healing and blind bartimaeus who wanted to see, you faith has healed you” (mark 5:34 & 10:52).

to one leper out of ten who went back to thank Jesus for healing, “your faith has made you well” (luke 17:19)

for each of these versions (saved, healed, made you well), the greek word is sozo, which means “to save, to keep safe and sound, to make whole, to heal, to restore to health.”  sozo comes from the root word soaz which means “safe.”

i love this imagery. our faith helps us be made more whole, more safe, restored to greater health.

these people knew nothing, really, except a belief that maybe Jesus could help them.  they had a humility, a desperation, a desire, a hope.  that’s all they needed.

our systems have set up so many hoops for people to have to jump through, so many bullet points to memorize, so many belief statements to commit to, so many barriers to a free & wonder-filled faith.

after a week like this past week, when someone you love and care about takes their life, a long list of beliefs doesn’t really seem to bring any relief, healing, or wholeness. what does, though, is a crazy enduring faith that God is with us no matter what, that emmanuel-ness can never be shaken, that God shows up despite different theologies or doctrinal statements or words that even make sense.  that Jesus loved her deeply, fully, madly, and somehow knew the depth of her suffering.  that love covers a multitude of sins. that in some bizarre and unexplainable ways light always creeps out of the darkness, reminding us of what’s really important and it’s a very short list.

so many times i am in conversations with such dear and amazing people whose beliefs are unraveling and they think they’re losing all of their faith. when really maybe it’s actually just the opposite.

as the list of “i’ve got to believe this to belong and keep God happy” decreases, a faith that is less list-driven and more heart-driven, less good-behavior-focused and more freedom-focused, less fear-based and more love-based slowly & surely increases.  

yeah, Jesus said a mustard-seed was pretty darn powerful.

we can shed all kinds of beliefs and still have a strong faith.

this week, doctrinal statements didn’t help me. all the things i used to hold on to so tightly out of fear didn’t save me.

but my faith in a God who is in the darkest of the dark with us and cares very little about a long list of beliefs, yet cares very deeply about our hearts sure did.

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Posted on Apr 1, 2013 in ex good christian women, faith shifts, healing, identity, jesus is cool, spiritual formation | 9 comments

resurrecting.

resurrection definition

some synonyms for “resurrecting”:  awakening, bouncing back, breathing new life into, brightening, coming to life, making whole, overcoming, reawakening, recovering, rekindling, renewing, renovating, restoring, resuscitating, snapping out of it, springing up, strengthening, waking up.

yesterday was resurrection sunday. a day where we tell the easter story and Jesus risen from the tomb and remember that out of the death & darkness, hope and new life emerge. i am so thankful for resurrection and all that it means and the entire week at the refuge was a really beautiful & sweet one. without friday & saturday of Jesus’ story, sunday means nothing. without death & suffering, there is no joy. our past is always part of our future. our stories are always a strange and holy mix of sorrow & joy, beautiful & ugly, dark & light, despair & hope.

while i love the word “resurrection” and all that it means, i have been meditating more on the word “resurrecting” this past week.

resurrecting.

resurrect-ing.

it’s a verb. it’s active. it’s ongoing.

it’s not an event but a way of living.

one of my favorite lines in a poem is from wendell berry, one of the most often quoted around easter time. he says, “practice resurrection.”

so many of us are resurrecting in all kinds of unique & wonderful & scary ways.

we’re waking up.

we’re healing.

we’re shedding things that hinder.

we’re coming to life again after a season of painful loss.

we’re finding our voice.

we’re uncovering our passions.

we’re discovering life in unlikely places.

we’re showing up instead of hiding.

we’re thawing hardened hearts.

we’re loving in new ways.

we’re trying new things.

we’re loosening our grip on things we once held tightly.

we are rebuilding after deconstructing

we are resurrecting.

while i love sharing this scripture from 2 corinthians 5:17 when we baptize people, “the old has gone, the new is here”, in my day to day living, i like to change it a little (at our wednesday house of refuge we sometimes call it the KIV version of the bible, kathy’s inconsistent version) to say “the old is always dying, and the new is always coming.”

that’s much more what real life is like for most of us.  

the old is always dying, the new is always coming.

this week is the refuge’s 7 year birthday. it’s often difficult for me to describe how significant this is for all kinds of reasons. when we started the refuge, we were a bloody broken mess after getting fired from our old church and had no business starting a new one. but thankfully God uses battered worn things to make new beautiful ones. for 7 straight years we have slogged it out relationally, spiritually, and emotionally in community.  there have been so many wonderful things about it and a whole helluva a lot of hard things, too.  i have had so many sleepless nights longing for an easier path. so many days i am just plain  sick and tired of relationship and love and all that God has laid on my heart about “church.” so many moments where i feel confused about where we’re going and why we’re here.  so many days where i wish we had a different past so our present could somehow be magically better.

but no matter how wacky it has been, it also one of those God-given places i can keep practicing what resurrecting means.

where the old keeps dying and the new keeps coming–not only in my own life but in our life together as a community.

where there’s no finish line, no “i’ve arrived”, “we have this nailed down”, no “i’ll never struggle with that again!”

where i keep learning all kinds of things i need to learn about awakening, bouncing back, breathing new life into, brightening, coming to life, making whole, overcoming, reawakening, recovering, rekindling, renewing, renovating, restoring, resuscitating, snapping out of it, springing up, strengthening, waking up.

where i keep remembering that resurrecting is not born out of life & ease & comfort & light.  it comes out of death & trouble & discomfort & darkness.

but it’s always coming. again, again, and again.  all kinds of lovely slivers of hope. joy. peace. love. mercy. forgiveness. grace. justice. beauty.

death and life, life and death. the old always dying, the new always coming.

resurrecting.

resurrect-ing.

* * * * *

ps: i wanted to let you  know, too, that we are hosting our next online class for ex-good-christian-women starting april 15th. 4 weeks of strength & encouragement & challenge to keep resurrecting. we don’t have a next date planned so if you want to catch it, phyllis mathis and i would love for you to join us!  each time we run one of these classes i am always amazed at the healing and action that emerges.

Ex Good Christian Women's Club. Register now.

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Posted on Mar 27, 2013 in advent & lent, faith shifts, healing | 19 comments

easter hope(less)

ring the bells that still can ring

it’s easter week. a little hard to believe because it seems like yesterday we were talking about christmas and how hard it can be. i am one of those people who like easter. even though my faith has shifted in all kinds of ways, the beauty and power of the resurrection story resonates deeply in my heart. embracing life as a series of fridays-saturdays-and-sundays has helped me over the years and i think that being born again and again is part of our ongoing work to become better human beings and less divided.

at the same time, i realize this time of year is so freaking hard for so many people.

i wrote when easter is hard in about 30 minutes last year and it stirred up a lot of strong feelings. this holiday used to be so many people’s very favorite, the trophy of a strong and vibrant faith.  then, when things fell part and the pillars of our faith crumbled, it has become a place of pain & sorrow & loneliness.

for many,

it feels like a party’s going on that we’re no longer invited to.

we can’t sing the songs because we don’t even know what those words mean anymore.

we know we can’t just go sit in church and listen to a salvation message because we might crawl out of our skin.

we are 100% sure we won’t be responding with “he is risen, indeed” because it feels forced.

we won’t be on facebook on sunday because we will be perpetually annoyed.

we want to feel hope & joy & life but we aren’t sure it comes through this holiday anymore and don’t want to fake it.

we have family members who are praying for us to come to church with them this sunday and we want to honor them but at the same time aren’t quite sure we can stomach it.

some have let go of Jesus in ways that used to feel so good and kind of miss him.

many others are trying to hold on to Jesus in a pure & authentic way but all of the hubub around easter is messing with that.

some are lonely.

some are tired.

and so many would love to feel the stirrings of new life again.

we’re all in different places on this and i am sure you could add so many other things to the list. as a pastor on the fringes, i always feel the crazy tension of this week and am glad to be part of a community that somehow does the best it can to celebrate resurrection and respect that so many of us are in weird places on it. at the same time, i know that many refuge friends sit in our wild & crazy church and feel the same feelings on that list.

easter is just really hard when we’re in the midst of or on the other end of a faith shift.

the earth has tilted and we are wobbling to find our space and our bearings.

part of the easter story is the promise of new life. that out of death & suffering & lament, new life emerges. i believe that story is being told in so many right now–our faith stripped away, we are living in the darkness and grief of all that was lost.  it can seem like a perpetual winter, like we’re stuck in friday’s death & saturday’s lament.  

but here’s what i truly believe in every part of my soul–spring will come.

spring is coming.

we may not feel it yet. the ground is still hard and frozen, but underneath the surface are seeds that are growing in the darkness. seeds of a free-er faith, seeds of a simpler faith, seeds of hope that God is bigger than we have been taught, seeds of life and hope and joy and mercy and love and peace and courage and beauty.

our shoots all pop up at different times and in different ways.

for some, easter isn’t as hard this year as it was the last. that’s something to celebrate!  for others, the shoots are so fragile, and you need to be extra gentle with yourself and tend carefully to the beautiful & tender hope that is trying to emerge. and for others, it just feels so freaking sad and you’re reading this thinking that winter will last forever.

we have a saying at the refuge that my dear friend tami coined–sometimes when we don’t have hope, we have to borrow it from each other.  this easter, if you are hanging on by a thread, my hope to lend is that it won’t always feel this hard.

i never expect that people will be able to sit in an easter service without breaking out in hives, although that’s definitely a bonus.

but my persistent hope is that over time all of us would feel more alive, more free, more loved, more loving, more connected, more peace, more passion, more hope, more resurrection over time.

yeah, i do believe easter always comes, in unique & surprising & unexpected & beautiful ways, but maybe not with all the hoop-la and bells and whistles, and probably not only on march 31st.   there are 364 other days in the year, and i’m really glad for that.

my heart is with you as you grieve what has died, as you celebrate what is starting to coming to life, as you thaw and find your way through this season.

with love and hope, kathy

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Posted on Mar 18, 2013 in faith shifts, healing, spiritual formation | 28 comments

10 ideas to re-engage with the Bible if we’ve become allergic to it.

i kind of miss the bibleshifting faith takes its toll in so many ways–changed friendships & relationships, loss of connection & belonging in churches, and disorientation on how we connect with God.  so many of the old ways stop working.  what used to fill us up now sometimes repels us. what used to feel so comfortable now feels so foreign. i can’t tell you the number of times over the past chunk of years i have tried to grind down on old spiritual practices that used to bring me so much life only to come up empty.

one of the things i am sad about for a lot of us is how our relationship with the Bible, a source of so much life & hope & goodness, has often become twisted & tainted.  for all kinds of reasons, some of us have become a little (or a lot!) allergic to it.  sometimes when we read it, we have a weird filter that all of the words go through that blocks us from stirring our souls & inspiring love and change.  it can cause us to cringe, harden our hearts, to feel cynicism instead of hope.

i often tell people who find themselves extra-allergic to the Bible to take a break from even trying.  there are all kinds of ways to engage with God other than the Bible and a healthy separation (just like when a marriage is in trouble) can often provide a space for healing. but what happens when we kind of want to try again?  when we feel a stirring to re-engage with the Bible in a way that won’t kick our allergies into full-gear?

this post isn’t for everyone; some of you are feeling great about the Bible and others of you have it safely on the shelf right now to give yourself more time to heal.  this post is for those of you who are feeling like maybe it’s time to give something a try again, who miss the beauty & challenge of it, who are wanting to re-connect with it in new ways.

these are some thoughts off the top of my head that have helped me over time.   i’d love for you to add yours to the list because the more ideas we have to choose from , the better.

10 ideas to re-engage with the Bible after we’ve become allergic: 

1. take one passage we really like or one that comes to mind or gives us hope and meditate on just it for a while.  i do this a lot and i remember how much i like certain verses, how much comfort they bring, and that i don’t have to study them, exegete them, put them in their proper context, know the greek word for it for it to do something in my heart.

2. take that same passage and look it up in different versions (i like biblegateway for that).

3. practice lectio divina, which is one of my favorite practices because it takes out “studying” the bible and replaces it with intersecting emotionally with the passage.  read it from different angles.  notice words.  notice feelings. notice soul stirrings.  some passages that i like are:  psalm 23, psalm 40:1-3, isaiah 43:1-4, isaiah 61:1-4, matthew 5:3-10, colossians 3:12-15, ephesians 3:14-19, luke 15:11-32.

4. read a passage and then re-write it in our own words. there are a lot of different versions by different people, as well as different translations.  it’s ok to let yourself be inspired too, and see how it sounds.  another thought is to collage it or draw it with images or pictures.

5. read a parable and ask ourselves these questions: 

what is a different title for it?
what feelings does it stir up?
what does it tell us about the tendency of human beings?
what does it tell us about our own hearts and lives?

6. after reading something, take some time and journal about it, reflecting on some questions like this:

this passage stirs up these feelings (comfortable, easier ones & harder, more uncomfortable or annoying ones)
originally, i was taught that this passage for sure meant…
i wonder if it could actually mean…
today, it makes me consider…

6. after reading the passage, ask “how does this point me toward loving God more?  loving others more?  loving myself more?”  

7. i know this is a stretch and it can definitely go either way, but for some it might help to imagine reading it for the very first time, before you knew anything or heard anything from a pastor or studied it inductively or…

8. read a psalm and then write one yourself.  this are some prompts that can guide us:

God, i am feeling really…
right now,  life is…
i long for you to…
i am wondering why..
i am trying to remember that…
i am thankful for…

9. read the passage as if it were being read to a community of people, not just you.  rachel held evans had a good post last week that addresses this & we talk about this a lot at the refuge, how the scriptures are communal.  what does it call us to together?

10. try just the red letters, the words of Jesus (remembering that he says some pretty tricky and confusing stuff in there, too).

a few words of warning:

let go of expecting God to show up in the ways we were used to. some of the spiritual high i used to experience is truly gone.  it’s not that i don’t hear from God or feel my heart stir or feel conviction in a powerful way, but i have come to respect that some of the “high” i used to experience is nowhere to be found.  it’s been so helpful (and tricky) to accept that that season is gone for me and had it’s place in my spiritual story.  now the question is how can i feel connected to God in new ways.

find the good.  any little stirring, any little bit of hope, any open door is a lovely gift.

be gentle with yourself (and maybe God, too).  be careful of leaning into shame or “i-shouldn’t-feel-this-way-something’s-wrong-with-me” and trust that healing this allergy takes a long time.

remember it’s okay to find what worksat least for now.

i’d love to hear your thoughts on this and what you’d add to this list!

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Posted on Mar 6, 2013 in faith shifts, the carnival in my head | 20 comments

faith shift: hope for spiritual refugees, church burnouts, and freedom seekers

we're not crazy

really exciting news around here that i’m happy to finally get to share. yesterday i received the final signed contract to write faith shift: hope for spiritual refugees, church burnouts, and freedom seekers (that’s the working title) for convergent books, a new random house imprint!  

it’s a long crazy story how it all came about but they approached me last year right as i started the rebuilding after deconstructing series with some hopes for a project together. i felt honored at the prospect and a little scared, too, because i have had some weird publishing experiences and am in the thick of things with the crazy work of the refuge & all these kids.

yet, after that series ended & i saw what it stirred up, i knew i wanted to make it into something more comprehensive & accessible, with real and raw stories and tangible possibilities to help people navigate through these crazy shifts. so many of us have unraveled but have become very lost when it comes to resurrecting something new.

in the fall the editors and i began working through what that might look like and this book is what emerged.

it makes me smile whenever i think of it.

it’s for spiritual refugees, who have somehow shifted in what we believe and lost our certainty, our churches, and all kinds of other things.

it’s for church burn-outs, who are done with the same old same old but don’t know how to intersect with God & faith & community in a new way because there are so few options or guides.

and it’s for freedom-seekers, those who are done feeling stuck & bound & caged by the system and long for a free-er and more active faith.

i am all three of these.

and i am always in need of hope & ways to keep moving toward love.

faith shifts are hard, but so much new life can come out of them.

i’ve got a wild amount of work to do in the upcoming months but am looking forward to digging in. i feel honored to get a chance to work with some amazing editors who really believe in this book. i’m also glad for the opportunity to tell some of your stories, if you are willing to share them more intentionally.  a lot of us here are finding our own messy way and i’d love to have some of your feelings & experiences help those who come behind us feel less crazy & less alone.

yesterday, i had a new post up at sheloves magazine, part of the monthly down we go column i write the first tuesday of every month. it’s called not enough and too much, and the timing is definitely ironic. you can go over there and read it, but trust me, i’ve got both of these feelings in full swing right now related to this project! oh,i will need God’s help with crazy brain. my hope & prayer is that i can just be me, share what i & my friends keep learning through these scary & beautiful shifts, and have a little fun in the process.

thank you for reading here, for being part of this wild & unexpected journey the past 5 years, for all your love & support.  i am so grateful for this space to keep hacking through this hard stuff together in search of beauty and hope and freedom.  along with the refuge, this blog community has been one of my greatest joys and both have helped resurrect my faith in all kinds of lovely & surprising ways.

peace and hope, kathy

* * * * *

ps: i wanted to add, too, that we pushed the date back one week for our next walking wounded: hope for those hurt by church online class so it’s starting this upcoming monday march 11th. we don’t have another one scheduled for the rest of 2013 so if you have been thinking about it but haven’t been quite sure, we hope you will join us for this round. 4 weeks, at your own pace, no need to be online at a specific time. i know it’s a brave step, but our experience in past groups is that it has been a really helpful way to get traction and healing when we’re feeling stuck, lost, and wondering which end is up when it comes to church and/or faith. you’re not crazy (well, maybe sort of), but you’re definitely not alone.

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