birds-eye hindsight

My childhood was daydreams, tag-along, unsheltered innocence.

My teen years were awakening.

My college years were a perpetual combustion reaction.

Law school was a wet blanket on a fire, full of smoke and smolder.

Moving back home was a gunshot, I the bullet.

And today I float easy, water swelling beneath me

And smile.

ain't no valley low enough

I've been working on several deep posts for a while now. There was a period of 2 or 3 weeks when I got a lot of great ideas for a blog post, things I wanted to figure out and hopefully share. But I'm feeling my "deep season" recede from me. I work on the posts that still interest me, but don't really try and press through to what I'm trying to figure out or trying to say. The deepness was born of struggle and pain, and I'm not really struggling or in pain anymore.

Then I found that the current absence of "deepness" from my everyday musings sort of reinforces an idea I had, and I managed to finish a post after all:

Much is made of the mountaintop experience. That perfect day, that sublime moment, when all was right with the world and you are the recipient of all wisdom from a loving Creator with whom you have perfect communion. We yearn after these moments--the victory and joy--and we are wisely warned that such moments as these are no firm foundation for a lasting faith.

Because such moments are fleeting, and tomorrow, the descent into the valley begins again. And then, the climb to the next mountain. Our mountaintop experiences are shaped by the climb that got us there.

Sometimes, we think we're on a valley floor that will never end, a ravine with no available ascent on either side. Then suddenly the surrounding cliffs will part and we'll find ourselves on a mountain plain with a gentle climb on grassy slopes. Sometimes the way up is a nearly vertical climb, or even a negative incline, and every moment counts and requires our utmost effort, but the view from the top allows us to see our path for miles ahead.

The most important lesson I tell myself on the climb that makes up the greater share of my life is this: For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Whether climbing or taking in the view, the love of God is right there beside me.

you have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile

For years, perhaps my entire life, I've been plagued by an arrogant demeanor. No matter what I try to change or how hard I try to overcome it, my outside just doesn't match my inside. Because I am honestly not the kind of person who wants other people to feel lesser.

I've pinpointed when it's worst with the help of kind and honest friends and peers:

#1: it only presents a problem in two areas of my life--music and work. The two places where I am most passionate about what I do.

#2: Even in these passionate areas, it only happens when I'm trying to solve a problem.

#3: It's a first impression problem. Invariably, if a reasonable person will just stick it out with me, they'll learn how to see past the veneer to the heart underneath.

I'm never satisfied with simply chalking this characteristic up to "that's just who I am." Because it's NOT who I am. What is up with this complete inability to accurately portray my heart?

when sorrows like sea billows roll

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent. Ps. 30:11-12 (ESV)

Think of the psalmist who composed the lines above. He was mourning (according to most versions, other versions say "wailing" or "sobbing" or "wild lament"). Mourning does not happen to blissful, undisturbed people going about commonplace lives. The psalmist claims that his mourning was turned into dancing so that his glory could give PRAISE to God.

I tend to think this psalm was written after God had already done something amazing for the psalmist, and not as a prayer of faith. I like to ask myself what the psalmist would have been thinking while in the midst of his mourning. Do you think he grumbled and resented God for allowing horrible things to happen to him? Do you think he felt disillusioned with life, and thought (even for a moment) that the promises of God were bankrupted by the enormity of his pain?

We are often very quick to express our desire that our lives be a testimony, or a witness, to the glory of God and the gospel of Christ. But often I think we speak that sentiment heedlessly, without due consideration for WHAT exactly the Lord will ask us to witness ABOUT. We cross our fingers and hope that we get the "cattle on a thousand hills" testimony--riches and fame to the glory of God.

What happens if God's perfect plan for your life is to witness the harder things about the gospel of Christ: forgiveness, reconciliation, grace, mercy? These are lovely words to define, but painful to demonstrate effectively. And there's no question that we are MEANT to demonstrate them. (1 John 3:18). We are not simply God's little children with our hands open to receive blessing; we are the very breathing body of Christ himself. It stands to reason that each of us is called to exemplify an aspect of His nature. Technically we're called to exemplify ALL aspects of His nature, but there's grace for that inevitable failure!

So how will we react when the witness God formed us to bring doesn't exactly fit our definition of an "extraordinary" life? What if we are meant to show God's power in healing (which first requires disease, injury, heartache) or forgiveness and reconciliation (which first require broken relationships) or mercy (which first requires betrayal) or grace (which first requires failure)?

Are we prepared to be the people we claim to be?

but i will go through the fire, if You want me to

But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day. The way of the wicked is like deep darkness; they do not know over what they stumble.
Proverbs 4:18-19

I've heard sermons preached on Prov 4:18 before. The general gist has been that if a man is righteous, his prosperity will increase and not diminish.

This verse was spoken over me once, in such a way that it seemed to mean exactly what it said, and had nothing at all to do with my finances. So the application was a little obscure. I was reminded of this verse the other day and decided to read it with the verses surrounding it.

I think verse 19 helps understand verse 18. Both verses refer to a path. Both righteous and wicked have a path laid before them. But the wicked's path is shrouded in darkness, which is its distinction from the lighted path of the righteous.

The wicked do not know over what they stumble because they cannot see it. That does not mean that the righteous will not have stumbling blocks in his path--simply that the way will be well lit for him, and he will be able to identify what makes him stumble, and either avoid or conquer it.

I think the point of these verses is not that only the wicked will have problems in their life. But our God will not leave us to wander in darkness.

canta y no llores

"The crucible is for silver, and the furnace is for gold, and a man is tested by his praise." Proverbs 27:21 (ESV).

That verse is underlined in my Bible. I love it for a few reasons.

This past year or so has been the hardest of my adult life. It seems like there was opposition as I turned every corner. Yet, last October I received a word that God was choosing THIS year (this past year) to be the year when He poured Himself into me. That particular word went on to command, in no uncertain terms, that I was to praise.

Notice how the Lord didn't say it was going to be the best, or most prosperous, year of my life. He said He chose this year to pour into me, and told me to praise.

Even though this has been the worst year ever, I've never been happier. And I think it's because through every trial, I have done as instructed. I have praised. The verse above talks about refining fires--fires that determine the quality of a metal and purge it of impurities.

Our praise is both a demonstrative for the quality of a person and the mechanism by which we become people of quality. When I was telling a dear friend about a problem I was facing, she said, "Wow, and you're still up there praising." And I said, "What else is there to do?" How convenient would it be to fall to pieces? To back out of my oath to God when the pain begins? But what reward is there in that? I would much rather stand within the flames with His name on my lips than to slink defeated into the shadows.

The title of this post comes from the traditional Mexican song "Cielito Lindo." Canta y no llores, porque cantando se alegran, Cielito Lindo, los corazones. "Sing and don't cry. Because singing gladdens the heart." The rest of the song makes no sense at all to me, but I've always loved that refrain. Canta y no llores. It looks like Proverbs agrees.

P.S. (a very nerdy and overly-thorough post script) I'm always careful with quoting the Bible in a public forum like this. I try to make sure I read enough translations of the verse I'm going to quote so as to make sure that I'm getting a complete picture. According to several of the more modern English translations, and ALL the Spanish ones I could find, the verse above does not refer to a man's act of praise, but rather what determines the quality of a man is the praise he receives from others, or his reputation. I certainly think that's true in a sense, but there is little spiritual gain for me in that. The Amplified bears out my interpretation, though I suppose I could do some cross-referencing to further support it. Oh my.

i write more often than it appears here...

...really, I do. At any given moment I have about 2 or 3 draft blogs on different topics. Sometimes they get finished, sometimes they languish. Sometimes it's just a piece of song I liked for a title, but don't really have anything to say about it yet, and I throw it into a draft just so I won't forget it later...

let it be a sweet, sweet sound

Our pastor began a new series on Sunday about relationships. The first message was a opener about how to live in harmony with one another. He kept using the word harmony in the context of "absence of conflict." And it reminded me of a thought that has been running through my spirit for about a year now:

"God is in the harmony."

As a musician/singer/songwriter, I know that harmony is a tool that adds depth and diversity to a musical composition. As a performer, I know that there are few things that shoot adrenaline through my system faster than a well executed 3-4 part harmony. I've seen people singing along as the team sings the melody, and then when the song builds and the voices break into parts, I see them fall on their knees, lift their hands, or turn their smiling faces heavenward. God is in the harmony.

Which isn't to say that He ISN'T in the melody as well, but I think there's a particular truth to be learned by considering musical harmony from a spiritually analogous perspective. Pastor said Sunday that most conflict arises from "differences" between people, and pointed out how our differences from our loved ones often rub us the wrong way. He said, "It would all be so much easier if we were all the same!" The church laughed, and I thought, "But then there'd be no 'harmony' because when everyone is the same, it's 'melody.'" There MUST be people singing different notes in order to get the richest sound. Sometimes the best-sounding harmony is "dissonance" (where two notes very close to each other are played producing a "clashing" sound).

So let us rejoice in our differences, and be "quick to hear" the harmony it brings.

i believe you have forgiven me, and by your grace i will forgive

The hits just keep on coming.

What I love about tough times in life is the peace that God grants me in the middle of turmoil. Sure, that circumstance just beat me to a pulp and left me bloody, bruised, and broken, but Jesus wasn't just making up catchy names when He called the Holy Spirit a "Helper." Also, "Comforter."

But it's uncomfortable, you know, when your brother betrays you, and the only "help" you get from the Holy Spirit is a gentle, "Seventy times seven." But the one thing about my faith and its application in my life that has always seemed quite straightforward is forgiveness. How can I withhold that which was so freely given to me?

There is nothing emotional about forgiveness. If you wait until you feel like forgiving someone, it will never happen. Forgiveness of others is a RESPONSE to the forgiveness you've been granted. It is an act of worship.

how could I know the morning if I knew not midnight?

I got a job after nearly 7 months of unemployment. It's a litigation position in Houston, uptown.

I find I don't blog as much as I'd like to, and it makes me wonder if I should reformat to a themed blog--experiences of a young attorney? the life of worship ministry? relevant study of scripture? I think my Facebook account covers what's actually happening in my life enough that this medium could be a different kind of outlet.

No one reads it, anyway.

it wasn't long til i learned to see life wouldn't always be easy for me

It's been a full year since I last updated this blog. Oh dear.

So many things have happened, a cursory rundown of the highlights seems tactless. Plus, it's probably better to focus on today, rather than the heartbreaking year I've had.

Currently unemployed. Stressed and not sleeping well. Living for the days I get to leave the house to go to church.

Such a depressing period in my life. I keep telling myself to reach out to God, and really immerse myself in His word--as I haven't had this much time on my hands since college--but most days I find myself triumphant if I get out of bed and do the dishes.

I never realized how much I needed regimen until it was all taken away from me. I feel, most days, like my brain is melting. I look for things to do while I'm doing things already--watching a movie and surfing the internet, doing a crossword puzzle, researching for a book I might one day write, walk Savannah and read a novel...things I used to squeeze into the small amount of leisure time I used to have.

I'm intrigued by the idea of going into business for myself. I am daunted by the sheer number of attorneys in Texas, though. And afraid I won't have what it takes to hustle. I find myself dreaming of government jobs and jobs in education--where the bottom line isn't the bottom line and I could contribute and do some good in the world.

The money was never the reason I chose my profession (though it's nice, when you have it). I just thought it made more sense to fight injustice from INSIDE the system.

And I have to trust that God means what He says, and that He hasn't brought me this far to leave me.

climb every mountain

Today we journeyed to Lost Maples State Natural Area, in the South Texas Hill Country west of San Antonio. Generally, it is about a 2 1/2 hour drive. However, we missed the turn off and drove 40 minutes out of our way to Kerrville, TX, thus extending the drive time a little. The road was very curvy and hilly (the part we were never supposed to have driven, yet ended up driving twice), and on the drive back down Savannah began to get a little green about the gills. She has a known history of car sickness, so to save my friend's upholstery we flipped a backseat down and I threw a leg over Savannah and forced her to lay down without moving or jostling for the rest of the trip. She fell right asleep, once stationary.

A 5 mile hike up rocky terrain to the height of 2200 feet awaited us when we arrived, but we were prepared with water (human and doggy bottles) and granola, and planned to go slowly and take MANY pictures (objective obtained, by the way).

The sun rose high during the course of our trip, and was right overhead as we began our ascent. We had two friends with us, a friend's tiny little Cocker Spaniel, Pepper, and, of course, Savannah. Pepper was a trooper but you could tell she was flagging by the time we got to the top. Savannah? She was having the best day of her 14 month life! I admit that putting her in a harness rather than a head collar was a bad idea, and I won't do it again, as I don't relish the thought of being pulled 5 miles...again...but I have to admit it came in handy, on the steep slopes, to be tethered to the strongest, most athletic member of our little group. She was in her element, leaping and bounding up the slopes, straining against the harness when I lagged behind (which I did often, as I'm not in nearly as good of shape as my svelte little girl). I finally gave her to J so I could focus on breathing, but once we all got to the top, we really felt like we accomplished something--despite the fact that no work had been done, no files billed, no plans drafted, no corrections made, the sense of having done something important remained. I don't think I'd ever climbed so high before--and right now my ankles and thighs are protesting any repeat performance--but I loved it.

We got to the "scenic overlook" and my friends and J began to take pictures out on the ledge overlooking the world. The view was magnificent. You saw the Medina River valley and all the adjacent cliffs and escarpments, all absolutely covered in that rarest of the rare (for South Texas) and the admitted goal of our little expedition this morning--trees changing color. We oohed and ahhed all the way over and during the entire hike over maple trees in brilliant yellow, orange, and red. Due to an ample downpour we'd gotten earlier in the week, even the evergreen, or late-turning trees were somehow greener. I hung back and handled the dogs, at first blaming Savannah for my reticence to go so far toward the edge. Finally someone took Savannah from me and I went out to take a picture with my husband amidst the glory of God's creation. My fingers gripped tightly to the back of his shirt as picture after picture was taken, and I felt vertigo gripping me before I'd even peeked over the ledge. I smiled brightly for the camera and explained to J in an aside that I'm quite afraid of heights, and was perfectly comfortable admiring the view from a safe distance. There wasn't even a railing, for Pete's sake.

We descended, and made it to a clear, cool pond. The dogs drank and wet their tired paws, and I chunked Savannah overboard, because she's entirely too scared of the water for such a large dog. She swam her way out and shook herself off 3 centimeters from where I was sitting--I guess I deserved it--but then was happier for being wet and cool. Mommy always knows best.

Now, sunburnt of shoulder and wind-whipped of face, I listen to the heavy sleep-breathing of my family in the other room. It is peaceful, after a day filled with so many visual and physical stimuli, to tap away at my keyboard and think, "Today was a good day."

you ain't nothing but a...

It occurred to me that my facebook gets a little "doggy" sometimes. Savannah is my favorite pastime.

Today we went to the park, as we do every week. Savannah is becoming somewhat of a therapy dog. Not for humans, but for other dogs. When we first got Savannah, she was 2 months old and afraid of EVERYTHING. She couldn't be more than 2 feet away from me without freaking out. It took SEVERAL months, but eventually she began to come around, to be more social with dogs (though still reserved with strange people). And now, she's teaching other fearful dogs that there's nothing to worry about.

Today we met a greyhound. I'd seen her there before, with her Italian Greyhound and Whippet family. Her name is Francesca, and her owners rescue Italians. She's the same age as Savannah, but is blind in one eye, and therefore has a little bit of a fearful nature. After all, she's a sight-hound. Not having the use of one eye is like a human having their dominant arm cut off.

She was muzzled, which never deters Savannah and me, because we know that a muzzle is just a tool, not a warning sign. They were all walking around the track, so Savannah and I came up behind them and I struck up a conversation with Francesca's owners. Savannah just walked beside Francesca.

After a couple of laps, Francesca became interested in Savannah. Savannah turned and offered to play. Francesca tentatively played back. After a couple more laps, they were all over each other, and Francesca was playing with other dogs as well. Her owners told me that this was a triumph for their shy lady, and gave me their contact information so the experience could be repeated. By the end of the visit, Francesca's muzzle came off and she and Savannah opened up in a game of chase. Savannah couldn't keep up, though it was interesting to watch her try and match the greyhound's speed. Though they're built similarly, the greyhound has much less mass to move, and more muscle to move it. An 80 pound Ridgeback has no chance against a 55 pound greyhound.

Tomorrow we'll go hiking in Lost Maples, where Savannah and my friend's dog Pepper will have to hike as a pack, while Pepper's owner and John take pictures.

I'm proud of Savannah for being so lovable, and for knowing exactly what another dog needs to help them just be a dog. She's laying at my feet now, tired out and waiting for her bath.

I've always loved dogs. But I had no clue I could love a dog this much.

what a lovely way to burn

I always mean to blog, and then never get around to it. I think up what I'm going to say during the commute home, and then forget to actually go type it in the reality of my homelife.

Speaking of homelife...I'm formulating a plan to get my little family OUT of my in-laws' house. It's been great for what it's been, and really came quite in the nick of time--we were completely out of money. But we're back on our feet, in a modest way, now, and I think it's time to fly the coop--I love my mother in law but don't get along with my father in law at all. Or at least I think I don't, but its hard to say for sure until we exchange more than 3 words to one another. They're good people, but its oppressive, and we're young enough to feel the itch to stretch our legs.

My puppy is staring at me from her crate, where she's been chilling for most of the last few days, while I've been laid low with fever and a pretty bad head cold. I'm unforgiveably behind on work (and probably shouldn't be blogging, therefore) but at least have an excellent excuse for it. I'll see if I can't catch up at least on the higher priority stuff today, as J has quite a bit of school work to take care of as well.

I thought we were going to be able to make it to Wisconsin for Christmas, but it looks like we won't be able to. Tickets are verrrry expensive just now and with my escape plan formulating...I just don't think it's possible. Disappointed, but J and I have started thinking maybe we'll run away to Padre for Christmas, or something. It would be a nice change of pace.

and if the Son has set us free...

This might just be a blog for the sake of blogging. I think I'll try to do a regular post once a month or so.

I was listening to Nichole Nordeman's "Finally Free" and thinking about the freedom that comes in Christ. 20 years after becoming a Christian I still feel so bound up by personality and idiosyncracies and experiences. I've always struggled to find the meaning, you know? Which traits are there for good and which for not so good and what can I learn from every experience. And to some, that may seem sort of coldly analytical, but I know myself. Though I develop callouses every now and then, and trip over my pride at times, I can say that I am teachable.

Of course, being teachable doesn't mean I always learn my lesson.

I think that the freedom that comes with knowing Christ is His grace. You can screw up, and it's okay, because the forgiveness is right there for the asking. And you don't have to agonize and over-analyze every time you slip up (my problem) because all that is just part of the bondage of sin--from which you are free. Learn your lesson, repent, change, move on. Strength to strength.

*****

My birthday is exactly one month from today. 25! Lower insurance rates! Woo! I think I want to go to Sea World. I've lived here 3 years now and have never gone. And Sea World is so much more FUN than Six Flags! Yeah, definitely Sea World.

*****

The Wisconsin trip was a blast, though I must admit that having to wrap up in blankets in July is redonkulous. I expected it to be a little warmer than that! Savannah was a wreck when we got home. She was so tired she couldn't even garner the proper enthusiasm. Just knocked out for like 24 hours. And she's got this strange cough/sneeze thing going on that I think she picked up at the kennel. It's getting better. John and I are both having sinus issues, though--I'm pretty sure it's the house we live in. We've lived there for 8 months now and the only reprieve I've had from sinus problems was the week we were in Wisconsin!

I'm off to explore every boundary and every door--yeah I'm goin' North...

You know you're a grown-up when:

The weekends take on new significance and importance, as the only freedom available during your week.
Caffeine also takes on a new significance and importance, as the only thing that can jump-start a Monday morning.
Vacation actually means something. Not just break from school, which is very carefree altogether, but a get-away from work.

Speaking of vacation--how excited am I about Wisconsin? VERY stinking excited. I can't wait to get out of the heat and into light scarves, jackets, and jeans. Lighting a fire at night because it actually gets cold. Swimming in the river, basking in the sun, eating AMAZING food, and getting to know my family a little better than last year.

Wisconsin has always been a retreat for me...and I think my Dad worked hard to make it that way. I absolutely LOVE living in Texas, and I wouldn't change a thing about my life so far, but there's something about the peace and serenity of the hills and valleys of rural Wisconsin that just speaks directly to my soul...

...and reminds me of the Meadow, and Hazel, and running around barefoot and hardly clothed--or else dressed to the nines in my aunts' discarded formalwear...

and I rejoice that I had those days, and that there are better yet to come as my family continues to grow.

I love you guys, and I'll see you soon!

"up where the hunted hide with ease,
under the arms of eyeless trees,
up where the answers fall like leaves,
oh and your love is all I need,
yeah, I'm goin' North."

like a boss

I figured I'd blog a little more often about the new-found interest my life has attained.

Today's Attorney Lesson: Being the Boss

OK, so clearly there is only one BOSS at this firm--the guy with his name on the door. But there's a firm hierarchy in which I, as an associate attorney, am no longer the low man on the pole. At the top there are the partners (the Names), directly below them are the associates (arrayed by experience and length of time w/ the firm), below them are the paralegals (who, in my opinion, are the backbone of the profession) and below the paralegals are the general support staff--intake, secretaries, runners, receptionists, etc. There's also an office manager, who, as far as I have ever been able to tell, has the impossible job of keeping everyone happy.

So I have my "very own" paralegal, who helps me out with the clerical aspects of my job--the faxing, the routine client calls, calling doctors for medical reports, etc. Earlier today I was sitting in my office about to draft a document (about which I was only 65% sure) and it occurred to me that maybe I'm not the one who does that. So I marched over to a more senior associate's office and asked for a briefing on HOW TO USE my legal assistant.

I've never been "above" anyone before. I've always been the assistor, not the assistee. It's kind of nice, knowing that there is someone who has my back if I just get super overwhelmed or anything. And that I probably don't have to send faxes myself anymore--I hate faxing. It's like the most unreliable method of communication EVER DEVISED.

So that's Brenna's lesson for today. How to roll like a boss.

big wheel keep on turnin'

I got a job as a workers comp attorney in South SATX. I'm so excited I can hardly contain myself.

It's like I'm seeing everything for the first time. Through new eyes. The eyes of an attorney--a productive member of society. A grown up. I get up early and work all day.

But in a lot of ways I still feel like the 18 year old who left home 7 years ago and has been supporting herself ever since. I still feel like a kid who's just getting by until her ship comes in. But it's arrived, and I'm on board.

In other news, we'll be heading to Wisconsin at the end of this month. I've been in need of a vacation, I think. I can't wait to see my ENTIRE family and just chill out, eating and laughing and talking.

with every breath I take in, I'll tell You I'm grateful again

I passed the bar. I was in Target, doing some shopping, when I pulled out my phone to check my shopping list and thought, "Oh, well, I'll just open the internet browser and see if they posted the results." They were there.
*Tap "Pass List"*
*Tap "S"*
*Stare crazily at screen*
*See name*
*Scream and cry.*

I'm not going to say it was the greatest day of my life. But I will say I felt relief and elation like nothing I'd ever felt before.

So...if anyone knows of job openings for attorneys in the greater San Antonio area, let me know!

I know I promised puppy pictures--I'll ask J to give me some (he's the photographer) and I'll post them next time--hopefully sooner than 3 months from now!

in the heat of the day, with each stone that I lay

Well, I know it's been quite a while. My fall semester was ridiculous, taking 17 hours like a crazy person so I could get within the required hours to take the bar exam early.

And I am! Taking the bar, I mean. I've been studying (and only studying) for a month now, and there's less than 3 weeks to go! 3 years of preparation, and it all comes down to this. The test itself is 3 days long, starting Feb 24 at 9 am and ending Feb 26 at 4 pm. This is not just a test of mental aptitude and knowledge of the law--this is a test of physical, emotional, and spiritual endurance. We did a practice exam the other day and I almost fell asleep during the afternoon session. I'm going to have to train harder.

Because I haven't REALLY been studying as MUCH as I should, I suppose. But for some reason, just as always, I don't feel panicked. I study hard, and then I play with my puppy (pictures to come!) or hang out with my husband...who is also super busy--it was a good choice registering him for 15 hours while I took the bar! He doesn't feel so neglected...of course, I suppose I will starting in March! ha!

Anyway, and as usual, it's a wonderful life. God is blessing the Bible study I lead for the women in the law school, and my marriage is happy and healthy. Savannah (puppy) unfortunately has to stay in a crate much of the day, but that will change after the bar. So many things will change after the bar!