Last Thursday I launched a new small group. We watched a clip from Return of the King, The Ride of Rohirrim, and for the first time I was reminded of how I once felt like Merry. He was the hobbit that rode on the horse with the king’s daughter, the one who sleighed the Nazgul. It was like borrowed courage, a guy riding on the horse of a woman. Do any of you guys feel that way, that sometimes the courage isn’t real; it’s borrowed from someone else? Let me hear what you have to say. Lance