Salvation is on its way. . .

[ I began this note New Year’s Day. I added pieces to it on and off for a week or so before dropping it. Now I’ve come back to it. I share it now with you. Perhaps it’s a good time to do so. ] The New Year is barely underway, yet things are as CRAZY as ever. Happy New Year! [ belated, now. ]

Since I began this post on New Year’s Day, things haven’t changed much globally, though. There’s still the talk of a small financial hiccup that could lead to a major melt down of economies all over the world—or not. Your guess is as good as anyone’s guess. And people actually get paid to guess about these things. They don’t have to be right in their predictions. They just spout them off and move on to the next impending crisis meant to worry us.

I’d earlier written that the outlook for the new year is much the same as the events reported throughout the world as we closed out last year. Namely, refugees flooding into “safe-haven” countries, the ever-expanding Islamic State, terrorism, freak storms and other threats to our safety, and violence against and by law enforcement personnel. Oh, and of course we’ll see even more coverage on the American political scene. [ Here it is April, and that’s still accurate. ]

The common denominator in all events reported is that we need solutions to all that is going on in the world. The conclusions we are to reach is that the state of the world isn’t good, but there are people offering solutions that are good. It’s all about saving the world. It’s about salvation. Seriously!

What does salvation mean to us? What is the opposite of salvation? I’ve thought about these questions in the past. They return to me as I reread what we call the “transfiguration” of Y’shuaJesus, Matthew 17:1-13.

Salvation, according to Easton’s Bible Dictionary, means: “. . .the deliverance of the Israelites from the Egyptians (Ex. 14:13), and of deliverance generally from evil or danger. In the New Testament it is specially used with reference to the great deliverance from the guilt and the pollution of sin wrought out by Jesus Christ, “the great salvation,” (Heb. 2:3).

Simply put, salvation is an action that directly benefits us. It is an action of G-d through Y’shuaJesus toward us. The Name Jesus comes to us from the Hebrew name Y’shua. It literally means L-rd Saves. As John Parson puts it, it is “understood in light of G-d’s redemptive power and saving acts.”

But to a very secular world, salvation means something different. Science offers salvation when it gives us solutions to “help” us make our lives “better.” We have financial experts who offer the salvation of wealth, and the management of wealth. We have the medical establishment that includes the pharmaceutics industry that offers the salvation of health and healthy living. We have an automobile industry that offers the salvation of better and safer cars. We have military and law enforcement that offer us the salvation of protection, safety. And we have politicians that offer their own brand of salvation in creating laws to govern our lives, to make our lives “better.”

it is the last hour, and as you have heard that antichrist is coming, so now many antichrists have come. 1 John 2:18

The Biblical opposite of Salvation is the antichrist. Antichrist, according to Easton’s Bible Dictionary, refers to “against Christ, or an opposition Christ, a rival Christ. The word is used only by the Apostle John. Referring to false teachers, he says (1 John 2:18, 22; 4:3; 2 John 1:7), “Even now are there many antichrists.”

(1) This name has been applied to the “little horn” of the “king of fierce countenance” (Dan. 7:24, 25; 8:23- 25).
(2) It has been applied also to the “false Christs” spoken of by our Lord (Matt. 24:5, 23, 24).
(3) To the “man of sin” described by Paul (2 Thess. 2:3, 4, 8- 10).
(4) And to the “beast from the sea” (Rev. 13:1; 17:1- 18)”

So. . .

So, here we are and in the Northern Hemisphere we’re looking at summer coming. Well, here in the American State of Georgia that is very true. But just a couple weeks ago, snow and storms made their way through some northern states. It’s been five months since New Year’s Day. The Dow is climbing again after dropping severely. Nobody even notices anymore. The price of silver dropped, and now rises. Gold is following that pattern, too. Even the price of oil, which dropped so low folks were thinking it would cause a crash, has begun to rise just enough that it’s not a big topic. Yet still voices of doom cry that the economy is going to fail, that riots overwhelm the resources in cities, and martial law will be declared. And on and on and on. . .

Salvation. Buy this. Do this. Prepare for this. Worry about this. . . and that. . . and a whole lot of other things. It’s enough to make a person. . . CRAZY.

But not that’s not all. Rumors abound about political candidates for the highest office in America, the presidency. Controversy surrounds the death of a conservative Supreme Court Justice, Justice Antonin Scalia, who’d served since his appointment by President Reagan in 1986. We’ve got people attacking the right of Christians to conduct their business affairs according to Christian values. For two-hundred years America has stood for freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom to bear arms, freedom from unlawful search and seizure. Today these freedoms are being attacked. Not from foreign enemies, but from within our own borders, by people who are native-born citizens. We’re either being led to believe that the world is ending, or the world is ending.

It’s enough to drive a person. . . CRAZY!

What’s a person to do?

O keep my soul, and deliver me:
let me not be ashamed; for I put my trust in thee.
Let integrity and uprightness preserve me;
for I wait on thee. Psalm 25:20,21

Too simple?

It seems to me that the secular world wants it to be complicated to match the CRAZINESS of the world. The secular world is still filled with chaos. We still need to persevere in our preparations for any event, any disaster, that might come our way. We must be wise. We must be gentle. We need to be reminded occasionally that we need not worry. He who called us to Him, He who offers true salvation, will come. It will be in His time. It will be in His way. Like Gandolf in the Lord of the Rings, our Lord Y’shuaJesus will not be late; He will not be early; He will always be right on time. His time. His way. His truth.

I am rereading Romans. I came to chapter five and really didn’t like what I read. But there it is. We will experience tribulation. We will. Not only that but we will glory in tribulations. Wow. Okay. We’ll glory in tribulation. Ouch. But it has its reward.

Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also:knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope: And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us. Romans 5:1-5

Our L-rd Y’shuaJesus is our salvation. And that’s the only thing that’s not CRAZY!

Preaching and . . .

. . . keeping it simple is like writing a well-crafted letter—it takes time. It takes time to say things clearly, concisely, cutting to the very core of the lesson. It takes research. Above all it takes prayer.

On the other hand, there is Alan Redpath. During a lecture to students at a seminary, Pastor Redpath gazed deeply into the eyes of the gathered seminarians for what must have seemed a very long time. I’m sure they must have squirmed as his eyes roamed the room piercingly, seeing into hearts. Then he did the most amazing thing. He began to sing, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” And he continued until there were no dry eyes in among those gathered to hear him speak.

I wasn’t there. I read about it. I don’t recall what he preached. Whatever it was, it was overshadowed by the way he captured the hearts of the students, by the way he directed their hearts toward the Lord Y’shuaJesus.

It seems to me that in a church the congregation may hear many sermons and increase their knowledge about G-d greatly. At the same time, I wonder how many come to actually know Him. Evangelist Art Katz spoke about this to a church not too many years ago. He told the congregation that their pre-planned service was a shame. He didn’t mince words. He spoke as a Prophet hoping to elicit some response from the people, to shock them to opening their hearts to G-d. He wasn’t there to please the gathered, but to speak the truth of the Living Holy G-d of Israel.

He spoke, too, of devastation, the type of devastation experienced by Job, and the devastation of six million murdered Jews during World War II—the Holocaust. He said that we can be totally correct in our thinking, but totally unacceptable to G-d. He used the example of Job’s “friends” who spoke to him correctly, and were told they need to make sacrifice for their folly. Job, who was righteous and persecuted, came an astounding conclusion that honored G-d. (Job 42:5,6)

I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear:
but now mine eye seeth thee.
Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent
in dust and ashes.

It is good to know about G-d. Preaching can help us know about G-d. Great preaching is simple: through it we become like Job, abhor ourselves and repent in dust and ashes. We see G-d, not through our intellectual, edited way of thinking, but we experience Him as face to Face. We, like Job, say: “I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee.” (Job 42:2)

Persecution and Death to Christians

It didn’t end with the fall of Rome. It didn’t end with the decay of the coliseums.

PAKISTAN EASTER SUNDAY SUICIDE BOMBER TARGETS CHRISTIAN WOMEN AND CHIDREN

A suicide bomber killed at least 65 people mostly women and children, at a public park in the Pakistani city of Lahore on Resurrection Sunday. “More than 300 others were injured” police chief Haider Ashraf said. “The park was manned by police and private security guards. We are in a warlike situation and there is always a general threat but no specific threat alert was received for this place,” he added.

The blast occurred in the parking area of Gulshan-e-Iqbal Park, a few metres away from children’s swings in a busy residential area. Eyewitnesses said they saw body parts strewn across the parking lot once the dust had settled after the blast. “When the blast occurred, the flames were so high they reached above the trees and I saw bodies flying in the air,” said Hasan Imran, 30, a resident who had come to Gulshan-e-Iqbal Park for a walk. Media footage showed children and women standing in pools of blood outside the park, crying and screaming and rescue officials, police and bystanders carrying injured people. Dozens of women and children were seen being wheeled into hospitals, covered in blood. Many of the injured were transported to hospitals on taxis and auto-rickshaws due to a shortage of ambulances. Hundreds of citizens arrived outside hospitals to donate blood. Local television channels reported that many of the dead bodies were being kept in hospital wards as morgues were overcrowded.

The Taliban faction Jamaat-ul-Ahrar claimed responsibility for the deadly attack on Easter Sunday, saying it intentionally targeted Christians. “The target was Christians,” a spokesman for the faction, Ehsanullah Ehsan, said. “We want to send this message to Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif that we have entered Lahore. He can do what he wants but he won’t be able to stop us … our suicide bombers will continue these attacks.” Islamist militants in Pakistan have attacked Christians often over the past decade.

“Many are in operation theatres now being treated and we fear that the death toll may climb considerably,” Salman Rafique, a health adviser for the Punjab provincial government, said.

“We were just here to have a nice evening and enjoy the weather,” Nasreen Bibi said at the Services Hospital, crying as she waited for doctors to update her on the condition of her two-year-old injured daughter. “What kind of people target little children in a park?” When the army was called in to control crowds outside the park some distraught, sobbing relatives clashed with police.

(From Renewal Ministries Fellowship)

Resurrection Day

Slide-Israel-110 — Garden Tomb, Jerusalem, Israel (c) Wil Robinson 1988

Purim

Here’s some history on the celebration of Purim, which is today.

The Persian empire of the 4th century BCE extended over 127 lands, and all the Jews were its subjects. When King Ahasuerushad his wife, Queen Vashti, executed for failing to follow his orders, he orchestrated a beauty pageant to find a new queen. A Jewish girl, Esther, found favor in his eyes and became the new queen—though she refused to divulge the identity of her nationality.

Meanwhile, the antisemitic Haman was appointed prime minister of the empire. Mordechai, the leader of the Jews (and Esther’s cousin), defied the king’s orders and refused to bow to Haman. Haman was incensed, and convinced the king to issue a decree ordering the extermination of all the Jews on the 13th of Adar—a date chosen by a lottery Haman made (hence the name Purim, “lots”).

Mordechai galvanized all the Jews, convincing them to repent, fast and pray to G‑d. Meanwhile, Esther asked the king and Haman to join her for a feast. At the feast, Esther revealed to the king her Jewish identity. Haman was hanged, Mordechai was appointed prime minister in his stead, and a new decree was issued granting the Jews the right to defend themselves against their enemies.

On the 13th of Adar the Jews mobilized and killed many of their enemies. On the 14th of Adar they rested and celebrated.

(from Chabad.org

Been too long. . .

. . . that I’ve made notes on this electronic page. I’ve failed to write, to journal, to set thoughts to electronic paper, let alone real paper. I’ve told myself that it takes so long, that I don’t have time. I’ve told myself I really don’t have anything to write about, or that there’d be anyone that would be interested anyway. As with other times there are no real excuses. Yet, this last month, though I’ve thought so highly of myself that I convinced myself that I’m really doing pretty good, beneath it all, I’ve really felt hammered, like a bent nail stuck in a piece of hard wood that is continually being hit, to be made straight. On the bright side:

. . . we must through much tribulation enter into the Kingdom of G-d.

We are destined to feast with the Lord. We are! Thank you Lord Y’shuaJesus.

I have been going through slides and negatives, scanning them and putting them on a the computer. Here’s one I am particularly fond of. It was taken at a pastoral conference in Lake Hume, Californina, which is up in the Sierra Mountains. I don’t recall the name of the man in the photo, unfortunately.

Tranquil Lake Hume, and a time of contemplation and communion. (c) Wil Robinson, 1987.

I awoke this morning dreaming of a pastor conducting a wedding. “I now,” he said, “pronounce you. . . er. . .ahhhh. . . married.” My first thought as I rose from my bed was that it wasn’t too terribly long ago that no one would think a thing if a pastor said, “I now pronounce you man and wife!” We’ve learned different ways, now. While it may not have been intended, the old way said a wife is the property of a man. I suppose most men and women wouldn’t think of their husband or wife as real property, yet there a few that do so. I know a person who, ten minutes after being pronounced a man’s wife, found herself in total bondage to crazy person, and suffered thirty years of abuse. And even now, after divorce, church folks give her emotional grief for her “sin” of divorce. It’s not, of course, limited to women being abused. Bobby’s wife may not outwardly display her ownership over her husband, yet she is so self-centered, so narcissistic, that she considers herself the only real person that exists–everyone else is simply an extension of her.

So for the last decade or so, pastors pronounced a newly married couple husband and wife. Works for me. T’s a natural choice of words. But that’s not why the pastor in my dream was having a problem. He was struggling with what are the standard words today, in America. An America that is turned upside down. And America that says marriage is between two people, not between a man and a woman. I could go like this: “I now pronounce you husband and husband.” Or “wife and wife.” Should the pastor completely drop the gender aspects, saying, “I now pronounce you spouses”? Maybe it should be “I now pronounce you married.” Is that general enough? Non-specific enough? Give me a break. I’m too old for this nonsense.

I can hear Jim Morrison (Doors, 1967), singing “This is the End. . . ”

Train ’til its right. . .

I’ve heard it said that some train until they get it right, while others train until they get it wrong. What’s that mean? Well. . .

Quite a while ago, while bumming around India, I was blessed to contract a persistent stomach bacteria, which came and went in varying degrees of severity for a number of months. I was just a day ahead of the monsoon rains, which made my travels especially hot and humid, with little relief. Despite this I was given the grace to take it all in stride.

On one particular adventure/trial, I travelled in last class on a train with two Brits and two Sweds. We ran into each other while trying to find a few feet of space in a crowded train car. One of them gained access to the overhead baggage shelf that was empty, and we all clamored up to join him. There we rode for twenty-three hours and twenty-three minutes. At the time, I hadn’t known where I was to go, only that I was to be on that train. I’m not sure which pair of guys, the Brits or the Sweds, was headed to Kashmir, but we all thought that a good place to visit. We deboarded the train and hopped a bus north into the mountains of Kashmiri. As the bus arrived, local rental agents boarded suggesting houseboats to stay on. I, along with the Brits and Sweds and a Jordanian man, teamed up to rent a houseboat from one of the rental agents. We deboarded the bus and were led across a path to the lake and a large houseboat.

"Dal LakeVR2" by Basharat Shah - Flickr: Dal Lake. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dal_LakeVR2.jpg#/media/File:Dal_LakeVR2.jpg — “Dal Lake” by Basharat Shah

Everything was perfect. Well, sort of. The picture-perfect houseboat turned out to be moored by a sewerage outlet from the town. But it only stunk during the day. While the rental included three meals a day, my stomach issues returned with a vengeance, and I could barely eat. But atop the houseboat in the cool of the evenings we all sat around and talked. Despite everything, I was apparently successful at displaying my faith in Messiah Y’shuaJesus, and they saw and leaned something that was meant for them. At the end of our weeks aboard the houseboat, we all went different ways. I hopped the bus south, connecting to a train bound for New Delhi. As always, the train was packed. I found a foot of space in which to place my backpack and kneeled over it and slept all the way to Delhi. The training of these trials was going well. I seemed to be getting it right this time. That seemed to be the point of the trails, to get through them all and to do so while getting it right.

As the train pulled into the station in New Delhi, my stomach was acting up again, and I need to find a loo, as the Brits call it. I managed to stand up. But try as I might I just couldn’t make any headway to the door, as crowds of people tried to push their way into the already packed train car. Al of a sudden I stood to my full six-feet-five-inches and roared. I must have looked to the Indians as a giant bear about to attack. They pulled themselves out of my way. And. . . I’ll not soon forget the old man that was just steeping up onto the car as I barreled through the doorway. His hat fell from his head onto the step. I nearly ran him down. I nearly crushed his hat beneath my feet. I don’t know, but think I did at least retrieve his hat for him. As I walked down the platform, I felt horrible. I’d been doing so well. I’d been getting it so right. My trials took me to that point of success and beyond, until I broke. I found myself realizing exactly what I was capable of. I had it in me to be the worst of the worst. I was overwhelmed. At the same time, I realized that I liked myself. I Liked Myself. I’d trained to get it right, but went beyond and got it wrong. To The Point That I Broke Me. Now I could see myself as G-d sees me, saved through the salvation of Messiah Y’shuaJesus. He and only He experienced a life on Earth getting it totally right, without sin. He died that I might live. I’d known that. But as I walked the platform in search for a loo, I Knew It. And I knew it in a much more pure way.

Train beyond getting it right; train until we get it wrong. Then understand our condition on Earth and the Salvation from G-d.

The Terror of G-d’s Voice

“Ever since man sinned, and heard God’s voice in the garden, unusual appearances of God have been terrible to man. They fell prostrate to the earth, till Jesus encouraged them; when looking round, they beheld only their Lord as they commonly saw him.” —Matthew Henry

He was still speaking when, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” When the disciples heard this, they fell on their faces and were terrified. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise, and have no fear.” And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only. —Matthew 17:5-8

“We must pass through varied experiences in our way to glory; and when we return to the world after an ordinance, it must be our care to take Christ with us, and then it may be our comfort that he is with us.”—Matthew Henry

Matthew Henry’s conclusion, the lesson he sees for us from Matthew 17, what is subtitled the Transfiguration of Christ, is that we will go through life experiencing many wondrous things, seeing many powerful transformations, but we are not going to remain in them, for they are shadows only of things to come. We return to the mundane, the ordinary, and must take care to bring the Lord back with us, to walk with Him Who walked like common men and women walked.

So, in our common life of Earth, as we walk the mundane path set before us, as we experience the terrors and the wonders, we must hear the Voice of our L-rd saying to us:

Rise, and have no fear.

Christmas Eve in Georgia. . .

. . . crashing on the couch, listening to music, candles flicker on the mantle. And I’m thinking how just two weeks ago it was cold enough to light a fire to keep the chill off. But this evening it’s sultry, warm, sticky. It’s more like middle Florida.

It’s Christmas Eve. It’s time to think of family. It’s time to think of friends. It’s time to thank the L-rd for the Birth of Messiah Lord Y’shuaJesus.

It’s time to light my lantern, too. It’s a tradition. It began with my grandfather’s miner’s lantern, which my Mother brought with her from Wales. My parents bought their sons lanterns like her father’s, and we all light our lanterns on Christmas Eve. We are connected in this way. Tradition!

May G-d Bless your Christmas celebration.

I Wanna Go Home. . .

Hours before dawn this morning, while walking in the desert, I came upon a small group of young men and an old flatbed truck. The men appeared to be American Indians. A foal trotted along side the truck, falling on a sharp hook that protruded from the truck’s bed. Blood oozed from the wound. I suggested that the foal needed attention, and though there was some dissent, they finally agreed. I had to open a cattle crossing and carry the foal a short way to a large ranch house. The foal was taken somewhere by someone, while the group of men remained. Eventually they led me desert to an older man in the house. I asked to use the toilet, and the old man and the group of men lead me through a large living room toward the back of the house. We walked by a number of bedrooms and through a large community sleeping room with many single beds in it. All along the way through the house many of the mens’ wives greeted us. They appeared to know me and that I was coming. Finally we emerged through a doorway into a restaurant.

In the restaurant, under bright lights, I looked closely at the men. They were older than they looked. I looked again and saw that they were my age and I knew them vaguely. They were all saying to me that they were happy to have be back. One man showed me a block of soap that they’d developed for a car wash, and wanted me to tell them why it didn’t work now, though had worked several weeks ago. I had no clue, yet it came to me that a few weeks ago the soap was new, now it was aged and had lost its potency.

Another of the men spoke of his wife, in hushed, intimate, tones; she’d been injured some time ago and the insurance company paid for complete restricting of her jaw. In a more recent injury, the insurance was doing little to help. As he spoke it dawned on me that I’d known these men as a child.

A woman appeared then and we spoke about my going away, and that I regretted it. She said it was what it was, and that now I was back and that too was as it was to be. She was happy I was back.

Soon we wandered back into the house and the older man I’d met earlier showed me my bed, saying it was my old bed. It was in the community bedroom with many other single beds. As I lay down, the woman that I’d spoken came and lay next to me. She said she missed how when we were kids we’d all slept together on the floor.

I felt content. I felt appreciated. I was home. I now only vaguely knew I’d had a life away, but now I, home, that life was a million miles away. In the distance ‘yotes (coyotes) sang to a tranquil yellow dawn.

I awoke from my dream only minutes before the alarm sounded. I went to the kitchen to make my wife some coffee for her commute to her office. As I did so I thought of the dream. I began to connect the house in the dream to a ranch house I remember as a child. In the house lived a girl that was like a sister to me. In the house there was a room behind the living room in which we’d played. She told me that it was where the ranch hands once lived. I was born only a few miles from her, on a small ranch, in the desert, in the foothills of a mountain range, a hundred of so miles east of Los Angeles.

The dream and the reality of my own life merged. A childhood friend was a Mexican-American Indian, the son of my Father’s First Sergeant. My Father had built up a small ranch soon after WWII, and invited to it a woman he’d met in England while staging with the 101st Airborne Division for D-Day. She was the daughter of a Welsh miner, from a small village in South Wales. When my Father met her, she was a nurse stationed near the Army post. Their first date was a true blind date; it was in a black out. She arrived by boat in New York, and they married. I was born on the ranch a few years later.

After this I will pour out My Spirit on all humanity;
then your sons and your daughters will prophesy,
your old men will have dreams,
and your young men will see visions.
I will even pour out My Spirit
on the male and female slaves in those days.
I will display wonders
in the heavens and on the earth:
blood, fire, and columns of smoke.
The sun will be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood
before the great and awe- inspiring Day of the Lord comes.
Then everyone who calls
on the name of the LORD will be saved,
for there will be an escape
for those on Mount Zion and in Jerusalem,
as the Lord promised,
among the survivors the Lord calls. —Joel 2:28-32 (emphasis added)

Mulling all this over, I recalled that my parents had appeared briefly in the dream, also. I also saw in the dream that I’d been very unhappy at myself that I’d left the ranch, which is how I’ve felt in reality. I left the ranch, was torn from the ranch, why my Father’s National Guard infantry company was activated for deployment and combat in Korea. I never knew why my Father sold the ranch, but he must have felt couldn’t afford to hire ranch manager to run the ranch in his absence.

After my Father returned from Korea, we never returned to the ranch or that small desert town, except on an occasional visit. That burned beneath my skin; it galled me throughout my life. I can still taste the bitterness. I not only had been uprooted, but my Father was taken from me when I so very much needed stability and him. I also wanted the simplicity and security of the ranch I knew in my child mind. Yes, my Mother settled us on the coast south of Los Angeles, and my Welsh aunt came to live with us. Yes, they spoke Welsh and I learned it too, though don’t speak many words now, for its long been forgotten. Yes, I came to love the salt air, the smell of the sea, the cry of the gulls, and the water—oh, the blue-green salt water. But something was torn from within me that never returned—at least not until this morning’s predawn dream.

The sense of contentment, the feeling of appreciation for me by those dream people on that dreamed ranch in the desert still warm me now, several hours later. And the feeling of welcome and the hugs of true friendship are so pleasant. What I take from this dream is that there shall come a time that I will one day go home and this life, with all its highs and lows, its beauty and ugliness, will fade away and the true reality of who I am will come to be. I will be home, among true friends, among those that truly love me, truly accept me.

I love You LORD!