God has plans which mortals don't understand. He rests in the womb when the new baby forms. Whispers the life dream to infinitesimal cells. It is God who lies under the thoughts of man. He is cartilage. Memory.

It is God in the house when the curtains lift gently at the windows, and a young child sucks his itching gums. We do not understand the mysteries of God. God the winter. Summer, Septembers. Moody dark tones of fathers dying. The splash and laughter. Children playing.

Work is life. Work is opportunity.

I'm a team player. But I will say that I've never been a 'yes man' in my life.

Down where I grew up, able-bodied people do that which we believe God created them to do. Work is a blessing; it's not a curse.

One thing we cannot put a number on is the number of casualties because people were never connected to their purpose in life.