Greetings, body of Christ. It's your friend Martin Zender writing from the edge of the bottom of the Floridan peninsula. As I re-read this newsletter from September of last year, I am reminded of how many times I don't take my own advice. But I'm getting better at it. 

 

I don't consciously look back at my life, but I can't help it when momentous events of the past (both good and bad) lay wait for me and pounce unannounced. Sometimes it's a great feeling (my transcontinental bicycle trip), and sometimes not (divorce). But in either case, am I truly serving myself?

 

The best way to live, according to our Lord, is to take one day at a time. I find that even this is sometimes too much. I sometimes need to reduce this to the more bite-sized one moment at a time. I always feel terrible when I forget someone's name—especially the name of a person I have met more than once. Well, I used to feel terrible about this, but not anymore. (I have progressed from feeling terrible to merely feeling bad.) Not only is it human, but it is an indication, perhaps, that the past is fading away. 

 

Perhaps I'm just searching for any excuse besides the one having to do with getting older. 

 

I'm going to have to do a political show on MZTV, probably tomorrow. Some of you like this, some of you don't. Don't worry. Whether you vote yes or no, my presentation will always be entertaining. After that, I will finish Romans 11, and then—conference videos!

 

Thank you to all who made the Missouri conference a smashing success. Thanks to Mike and Marsha and Elizabeth Knotts, who not only organized the whole dang conference, but put me up (or put up with me?) for three nights. I love you all. To everyone else who brought or prepared food—amazing job. Thank you, Chris Carnahan, for recording every talk. You, the body of Christ, are going to like it. 

 

It's always great chatting with you folks every Sunday. It beats going to church.

 

Enjoy this newsletter. Live for the moment. Anticipate the coming of Christ for His body. 

 

Eat chocolate. 

 

Yours from the peninsula, 

 

Martin