What are my fruits? By what will I be known? What will be the epitaph on my grave? Let it be some version of: She loved. When times were hard? She loved. When the poor cried out? He loved. When they tried to feed her a shiny, red apple of poison? Even then, she loved. To love is to bless, which is the fiercest act of resistance there is. So do that. Resist. And love. And feel the warmth of God’s smile upon you.