I've always wanted to be somebody, but I see now I should have been more specific. --Lily Tomlin It's good to be back.  As I write this on Thursday, I'm assuming that I've continued to feel better and that, on Sunday morning, I'm actually with you again.  I have no specific reason to think that this won't be the case.  I'm not sick as I write this.  But then again, I didn't write last week's article thinking I would be so "indisposed" when Sunday actually rolled around (I hear Keith had a more colorful description of my status).  Thanks, by the way, to Keith for stepping in.  It's nice to have somebody like him around-someone who thinks enough and who thinks well enough to have something worth saying at a moment's notice. So here we all are once again, whoever "we" is.  If you're reading this, then you are among the "we."  If you're not reading this, then...why am I even talking to you?  I guess I'm actually not.  That made my brain hurt a little bit. It's really amazing how much I assume.  I am typing this out on Thursday assuming that there will be a Sunday in a few days.  I am also assuming that, on that Sunday, I will be at Norfolk Church of Christ.  I am assuming that I won't be the only one there.  I am assuming that some of you will be joining me.  As I type it, I can imagine the specific people who will be here and reading this on Sunday morning.  In doing that, I am making two assumptions: that you have actually made it, and that you, the one I'm picturing, are actually reading this.  I'm not exactly crazy for making these assumptions.  If the past is any indicator (and it usually is), I can make some reasonable assumptions.  But, still, I could be wrong on all of these counts. I guess what I'm saying is that we all have to make assumptions-a lot of them.  We have to make them in order to keep from going crazy, in order to have some sense of reality and security.  Can you imagine how scary the world would be if we couldn't reasonably expect some things to happen?  If all of life were chaotic and random? This includes my identity.  I have reason to believe that I am still me.  Every morning I wake up and the person in the mirror, although he has changed over time, is still me.  But even though I've known myself as long as anyone, my knowledge is still limited.  You might even say that every day I have to rediscover who I am. And sometimes I lose sight of who I am.  I forget.  The same problem is happening with the church in Colosse.  One of the reasons that Paul is writing is in order to remind them about who they really are, that they "have been raised with Christ" (Colossians 3:1).  My hope is to remind those of you who are followers of Christ that the same is true of you.