I read these words the day after I had toured the ruins of an 11th Century Buddhist temple in a closed country in Asia. After climbing many stairs and passing by two preliminary structures , which the former glory could still easily be imagined, we arrived at the main sanctuary. We were greeted by a giant Buddha. Intimidating in size. Magnificent in craftsmanship. Beautifully decorated. But, overwhelming silent. For hundreds of years this Buddha and many others like it have greeted thousands... no millions... of worshippers at this place the same way. Stone cold! I stood there and watched as this rock stared into space. He could not hear. He could not speak. He could not move or be moved by incense, prayers, or devotion. Our God is moved by our prayers. Our God sees and hears. Our God cares for us… and them. Truly, there is no rock like our God.