#that must mean everyone else struggles to care about jimmy. If that makes sense

[square-blunt]

You're in my heart, in my heart, in my head.

chapter two fucking finally. take it. fucking take it.

TW- MCD (major character death), suicide, like the fic ends in suicide and it's not good. Angst. there is so much angst-

WC: 2034 Ao3: :) First chapter: :)

Jimmy didn’t tear his eyes away from Scott once.

After they got ripped apart, all the neurons in his body were screaming at him to stop struggling and to go limp- he could feel the muscle in his back ripping apart but he had to. He didn’t feel the physical pain. But his heart was hammering so hard and he was screaming much louder than he thought was possible- screaming to Scott, praying and hoping that he could hear him over Joey- and maybe he did.

Because Scott never stopped looking at him.

And then, Scott smiled at him.

It was sweet, and weak, and it was tired. It should have been full of life, but instead- Scott used all his energy to give Jimmy that smile. It was sickeningly comforting- Scott, who was about to be sacrificed, about to have a knife through his heart- was comforting him, and Jimmy couldn’t sob any louder. He knows his screams and sobs and pleas won’t do anything to stop the inevitable. But with a sound that Jimmy will never be able to get out of his head, the inevitable comes to fruition. As the knife falls, Jimmy does too. The hooks that held onto his back retract and Jimmy crashes to the ground, rocks cutting into his hands. Part of him is grateful that he fell when he did. Whatever higher power was looking out for him must not have wanted him to see the knife going into Scott’s chest.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t imagine it.

As soon as he hits the ground he looks back up, just in time for Joey and Xornoth to disappear into smoke, and for the obsidian altar to crumble into dust- and Scott's body to roll off. Jimmy catches sight of Scott's limp hand and he turns away, holding his side, trying not to throw up.

He focuses on that.

Trying to keep the contents of his stomach down, swallowing thickly, he focuses on the burn of his head, his throat, and his heart.

His heart hurts.

It hurts more than any weapon could ever come close to inflicting.

After looking at Scott for so long, promising himself that he'd never look away, it's funny that now he physically can't bear to look up.

It's because Scott was alive then.

And now he, and possibly everyone else, is dead.

But he can't stop himself from crawling, very painfully, over to Scott. Only then does he notice how much blood there is. His, Scott's, it doesn’t matter- or it did.

Because Scott's blood should have stayed in his body.

Why didn't Jimmy speak up?

Xornoth had told Jimmy everything.

Their plan, why they were doing it- how they knew it was going to work.

They told Jimmy about a past life- a past three lives to be exact. And Jimmy remembered. It was like Xornoth had a key that finally gave Jimmy what he knew he was missing. And of course, he had fallen in love with Scott.

Of course, it was Scott.

Of course, it was Scott who came to his rescue. Everything else was a blur, of pain and hurt, but the kiss. Jimmy knew he had to. He had to let Scott know that he knew- that he remembered.

It was worth every second.

And even now he can feel the phantom of Scott's lips on his own, Scott's hair between his fingers, he can feel it more than the dull throbbing of his heart and his back. Physical pain couldn't reach him, his mind was already too busy imploding on itself to register anything else.

He feels the phantom of Scott's warm hand in his own.

He reaches out and takes his cold, real hand again.

Jimmy brushes away the dust and the blood, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles, and he stops at the ring finger. There's a simple silver band.

Jimmy spawned into Empires with a matching gold ring.

Only now does he know why.

He gently slips the ring off Scott's finger. He knows he shouldn't, but if it's all he can have of Scott- he's gonna take whatever he can get.

He moves up, noticing the detail on the sleeve of Scott's shirt. He wasn't wearing anything fancy, but he was still the most beautiful living thing Jimmy had ever seen. Scott had been wearing a sky blue t-shirt and brown pants- one could die in a more regal manner, but Scott still looked more amazing than any star in the night, any bird in the air… any flower in the field.

"It felt right," Jimmy says, voice unrecognizable even to himself. It only makes him cry more. Scott was his everything- Scott completed him. And Jimmy doesn't know who he is without Scott. He knew he was one half of a whole but didn’t know whose half, and now he has to live as a half without his other.

His communicator buzzes.

He doesn't care.

It's probably a death message.

He hopes Xornoth won't torture his family the way they did his lover.

He knows they probably did.

It buzzes again.

He grips Scott's hand tighter, maybe if he squeezes hard enough, it'll squeeze back.

Please, please, squeeze back.

Jimmy takes a deep breath.

At least Scott's eyes are closed.

His communicator buzzes again.

He still doesn't care.

He thought he'd be more distraught.

Looking down at Scott, his perfect, sleeping face, he thought he’d be screaming at the skies, clawing at his heart- trying to scratch the pain away, but he’s not. He should be mad, he should be trying to find Joey, at least, and hurt him as much as he had been hurt, but he’s not. He should have tried to swap back, but he knew his life wasn’t the end goal. He should be crying, letting the tears wash away all of the dust and dirt and blood but he’s not. He’s not doing any of it.

His communicator buzzes.

He’s holding Scott’s hand.

He’s holding Scott’s face.

He’s kissing his forehead.

He’s smoothing out his hair.

His communicator buzzes.

He notices Scott’s necklace, and that’s when he cries.

It’s a gold poppy flower- crudely made, rushed, unpolished, it was something Jimmy made. Jimmy himself was crudely made, rushed, and unpolished, so it makes sense that anything he made would be too.

His communicator buzzes.

He had given it to Scott a few hours before they arrived on the battlefield and Scott spent the next minutes staring at it while Jimmy got some things together.

Jimmy spent those minutes staring at him.

And then he died and lost everything.

Scott’s his everything.

And he’s lost it again.

His communicator buzzes.

He cradles Scott's head in his lap, staring down into his face.

He closes his eyes.

The ground under him changes. Rocks stop digging into his knees, and instead, there's soft wool. The smell of dirt and blood is replaced with clean linen and firewood.

What's worse, he can't feel Scott in his hands anymore.

Jimmy's eyes snap open.

His communicator buzzes one last time.

He's kneeling on cyan and yellow carpet, this must be somewhere in Rivendell. But it feels suffocating. It feels wrong.

Jimmy looks up and sees why.

Outside the windows the sky is red- this really is the end of the world. But the elephant in the room is that Xornoth is standing right in front of him. One of the last living things on this planet. Jimmy doesn't give them the victory of meeting their gaze.

"Codfather, Solidarity, sweet swamp boy- you hold many titles, don't you, Jimmy?" Xornoth says, manic glee in their voice. It makes Jimmy want to throw up.

"Just kill me. Please." Jimmy whispers, pain raw in his voice.

"No. I won't kill you, and you can blame your beloved Scott. The whole "can’t hurt you" condition in his heroic sacrifice doesn't feel heroic now, does it?" Xornoth looms over him, a shit-eating sneer of terrifying joy on their face. “Besides, why would I kill you? You were the key to the lock, the final piece to the puzzle, the gear that made this entire plan work- I should be thanking you. None of this could have happened if you weren’t there. He would still be alive if it weren’t for you- they all are dead because of you. Thank you, Jimmy. You seem to be often thanked for causing things that you stand against in the end. But that’s the way of life, is it not? People taking advantage of you for one reason or another, and then rubbing it in your face when they use you to get what they want. But don’t worry, no one will ever be able to use you again. Isn’t that what you wanted? You were pushed around by everyone, and now both you and I are free.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Jimmy says, maybe if he pisses them off enough they’ll just kill him anyway.

“No, you’re not. I am powerful, you are pitiful. I am armageddon, you are a disappointment. If death is theater, then I am Shakespeare, and you are a prop, a pawn. You were meant as something to be used. I was trying to offer a hand because as much as you hate yourself for it, you were the only reason why this plan worked. But if you insist on continuing to pretend that you have even a sliver of honor left then I will leave you to rot. But I promised not to lay a hand on you. In hindsight, not being able to kill you might have actually been a bad thing. See my plan was, Jimmy, I was going to kill you after all this, but your death would be instant and painless, but it seems that Scott has fucked something else over for everyone else. I was going to show you mercy, I wouldn’t torture you with a long and painful death or make you watch as- well, I guess I already did that, huh.” And they laughed . They laughed and laughed like it was the funniest thing in the crumbling world. They laughed at Jimmy, at his pain, it echoed off the walls of the dying church, sucking the last good out of the air to fuel the hysteric voice of insane victory.

Jimmy’s hope was flooding out with it.

Xornoth snaps their fingers, still laughing, and the world around Jimmy changes again, soft carpet to hardwood floors, still air to blistering wind- he's in his alliance tower.

He takes the heads down without looking at them, he can't bear to look.

He goes straight down the tower without looking.

It's a good thing he didn't.

He would have seen the bodies of everyone- ally and enemy- swinging from the rafters.

At the bottom of the ladder, he finds a rope of his own.

He doesn't even question it.

He silently finds a nearby tree and gets to work.

The Empire is deathly quiet- even the wind has died out.

He feels eyes. They're watching him. It feels familiar- watching a final soul end it all after everyone he knows is long gone.

He finishes the knot, throws the other end up and over the tree to tie it off.

He decides to build his own gallows as well.

Three blocks should be tall enough.

He puts the noose over his head like a medal- a winner's medal. That's what he was.

He won.

He takes the step.

And he's back in Scott's arms.

Finally.

#gremfics #empires #empires smp #flower husbands #flower husbands angst #suicide tw #scott smajor #he's fucking dead everybody dead #solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #sweet swamp boy #i hate writing

[hopscotchandlemon]

Cradle

TW:

Pregnancy 

Words: 2701

Audience: General

You paced around the ground floor of the house, she’d be here any minute and you still didn’t know if you should tell her. A loud knock on the door shakes you from your self-made worry pit. She lets herself in as she always does.

(Y/N)! She exclaims, It’s been ages, great to see you,’ as she embrace you in a bear hug, some of that worry melts away. Jack was one of your oldest friends and someone you trusted implicitly.  She holds you at arm’s length for a moment.

‘What’s wrong? She queried, studying your face. ‘I’m sensing something is not cool. Are you missing your cowboy?’

It had been Jack that had introduced you to Jethro over two years ago. He was that bit older than you, but you’d felt comfortable in his company straight away. He wasn’t an easy person to get to know, in fact he’s kept you at a distance for quite a long time, but if there was one thing you had in abundance, it was patience. It was that perseverance that had led to the two of you getting together and you moving in. Jethro had been on a mission for almost three months, a mission that was meant to be over in 2 weeks. You weren’t able to contact him and had to wait for him to arrive home. “Missing your cowboy” was understatement of the year.

‘Yeah, somethin’ like that,’ you replied.

You knew you didn’t respond to that properly. You knew Jack was going to question you further. Maybe you wanted her to. Maybe this secret was eating you up

‘Like *what* exactly though?’ she asked. You looked at the floor.

‘I’m pregnant,’ you blurted out.

Jack paused. ‘Wow, congratulations that’s great news, she celebrated before taking a moment to study you again. ‘It is great news, (Y/N), isn’t it?

‘Yeah it’s just…’

Jack hesitated, trying to read your face.

‘He doesn’t know,’ she realised, suddenly understanding your hesitation.

‘No,’

You sat down, Jack instinctively sat down next to you.

‘How many weeks are you?’ Jack asked.

’22,’

‘Woah,’ Jack was amazed you’d kept your secret so long.

‘I was already 12 weeks when I found out,’

‘How have you kept this quiet for so long? Jack was amazed.

‘Baggy clothes and avoiding social functions,’ you shrugged.

‘But Abby has been here, she can literally smell pregnancy hormones?’ Jack contested.

You chuckled. ‘Well I must have put plenty of deodorant that day.’

Jack looked at you. She notes the bags under your eyes, the worry lines etched on your face. She knows you’re struggling, not necessarily with being pregnant, although it is obviously taking it’s toll. You are not coping with the stress of keeping this a secret. This should be a happy time, but you can’t celebrate because you don’t feel you can tell anyone.

‘Do you think Jethro is going to be happy?’ you ask, wracked with the anxiety of not enough sleep and too much time to think. What if he gets back and is not impressed with your news. You didn’t think you could cope with that heartbreak.

‘Oh sweetheart, if I know one thing it is that he will be thrilled,’ she said softly, putting her arm around you. ‘I bet he has a crib built in no time.’

You smiled at the thought of a homemade crib. You’d not bought anything yet because you didn’t want to be found out and because it didn’t feel real yet, even though the fluttering you felt in your belly was most definitely there.

‘Let me make some discreet enquiries.’

‘You won’t…’

‘I won’t tell a soul and I will not allude to it either.’ Jack interrupted. ‘No one is going to know until you, or Jethro want them to.

‘OK.’

She smiled at you. ‘In the meantime, get some rest, you look rough.’

You rolled your eyes, ‘Thanks Jack, you’re such a comfort.’

***

Jack picked her moment to see the Director well. He’s just had some good news so was too distracted with that to ask too many questions.

‘Hey Leon,’ she smiled as she entered his office.

‘Jack, to what do I owe the pleasure,’

‘It’s about Gibbs…’

‘You don’t have the clear….’

I know. I don’t want to know where he is or what he’s doing, I went to see (y/n) at the weekend and she’s struggling.’

‘Jack, you know this is part of Gibbs’ job and if she can’t cope with it…

‘No, I don’t mean that. She’s physically struggling. She was reluctant to tell me anything but she looks ill.’

‘Maybe I should go see her…’

‘If you go, she is going to think the worst has happened. Don’t do that to her. All I’m asking is that if there is a juncture to pull him out, or for him to make contact, that you consider it. You know this is the happiest he’s been in years, if there is something wrong, he needs to know.’

Vance considered this. If anyone else had tried to suggest how he manage his agents, they’d get the hairdryer treatment. But Jack was right, Gibbs had been much easier to deal with since he met (Y/N). She seemed to have taken the abrasive edge of him.

‘I’ll see what I can do. Keep an eye on her Sloane,’

Jack nodded. ‘I will Leon.’

***

Jack was a regular visitor from then on. While you were too scared to buy baby stuff, she was not. She made you pack a baby go bag and bought cute outfits. She often turned up and you’d burst in to tears on her, full of panic about being pregnant and not being able to tell the one person you needed to. Also, you were having to see your obstetrician more regularly as you blood pressure was high and you were showing other signs of pre-eclampsia and that worried you too.

4 weeks later you still don’t have Jethro back. You’ve woken up feeling particularly grotty and with a sense that something really isn’t right. You call Jack but her phone goes straight to voicemail so you call a cab and make your way to the hospital.

***

Jack was in MTAC. Much to her relief, Gibbs was back in the U.S and being de-briefed. All being well, he would be back with (y/n) this afternoon. She’d seen a missed call from (y/n) but she figured she’d ring her back with the good news once it was all confirmed and she was given clearance. She was on her way to see Vance when she got a call from a number she didn’t recognise. She answered but stopped dead when she realised it was the hospital. She rushed in to the director’s office

‘Leon, you’re going to have get them to take Gibbs to the hospital now. (Y/N)’s in surgery and she’s really not well. I’m going there now, get him to ring me.’

Vance immediately got on the phone and Jack ran to her car. She arrived at the hospital and Gibbs called her as she got an update from the nurse.

‘Jack, what the hell is going on?’ he yelled over the noise of the vehicle he was travelling in.

‘How far away are you? I’ll meet you outside,’

Jack duly met a frantic Gibbs outside the hospital. She led him inside and found somewhere quiet to tell him the news. His face was a mixture of emotions, shock, worry and a tiny bit of joy at hearing he was going to be a dad again. That emotion was outweighed by his concern for (Y/N). Jack waited with him. It wasn’t too long before a nurse approached them. Jack took Gibbs hand.

‘Congratulations, you have a little girl and she weighs 1 pound 8 ounces. She’s going up to neonatal intensive care ask we speak but you will be able to see her once they’ve got her stable.’

Jack watched Gibbs face wash over with delight. He was rarely this easy to read but these were extreme circumstances.

‘What about (Y/N)?’ he asked.

‘She’s in recovery. You should be able to see her in about 45 minutes. She’s asked that you tell her if you have a son or a daughter.’

Jack smiled at (Y/N)’s gesture. She gave Gibbs hand a squeeze. He was trying to absorb all the information he’s received in the last hour. This morning was thinking about where to take (y/n) out for dinner. Now he was sat at the hospital waiting to meet his new daughter.

Eventually Gibbs was called through to see (y/n).

‘Surprise,’ you say, still groggy from the anaesthetic

He smiled at her as he took a seat. ‘We have a daughter.’

‘We do?’ Jethro nodded, intertwining his fingers with yours. ‘Have you seen her?’ you added.

‘Not yet. Wanted to make sure you were ok first,’

‘Go make sure she’s ok. She’s really early.’

‘Ok. I’ll be back soon. You want Jack?’ You nodded

He kissed your forehead and left to get Jack.

***

Gibbs was directed to his daughter’s crib and nurse beckoned him over. There was a plastic incubator surrounded by machines. He looked in and saw this tiny little bundle of pink. He figured she would fit snugly in to one of his hands. The nurse explained all the machines and what they were doing. Gibbs nodded as he took in all the information.

‘Touch is really important from premmies. If you want, you can put your hand through that gap there and touch her hand.’

Gibbs didn’t need to be asked twice although he was slighty hesitant because she was so fragile looking. With a single finger, he stroked her minute hand. The nurse took photos for him to take away and assured him once (y/n) was recovered from surgery, she would be able to spend some time with her. Grasping his precious photos , Gibbs thanked the nurse and went back to (y/n)

As she walked towards (Y/N)’s room, he met Jack.

‘She’s asleep, thought I’d leave you guys alone for a while,’ Jack mused.

Jethro handed her one of the pictures the nurse had given him.

‘Oh Gibbs, how precious,’ she gasped.

‘She’s about the size of my hand,’ he sighed.

‘Doing ok?’

‘Yeah so far to good. Keep the photo, I’m guessing you’ll need something to show the team,’

‘I will indeed. You happy for me to share the news?’

Gibbs nodded, putting his arms around Jack and giving her a hug.

‘Thanks for looking after (y/n),’ he whispered in her ear.

‘It was a pleasure. I’m away to blow everyone’s minds with this,’ she smiled, waving the photo as she walked towards the exit.

Jack walked into the squad room. Within seconds, Nick, Ellie and Tim had all asked how (y/n) was.

‘Right I’m not repeating this a million times, round everyone up,’ she stated. Within minutes the entire team, including Jimmy, Abby and Vance, were assembled.

‘Ok. (y/n) is doing well. She’s out of surgery and just about awake. I want to introduce you to this little bundle of joy,’ she passed the photo around. ‘A little girl who has arrived at 26 weeks weighing in a 1lb and 8oz. She’s in NICU and only Gibbs has seen her.

‘Wait, he didn’t tell us?’ Abby shrieked, staring lovingly at the photo.

‘Gibbs didn’t know until he was at the hospital,’

‘So, (y/n) didn’t tell anyone?’ Bishop queried.

‘She was waiting for Gibbs to get back. She’s had a really rough last few months and I happen to know she’s bought practically nothing so we have work to do.’

***

‘You got any names?’ Gibbs asked.

You shook your head. You hadn’t allowed yourself the luxury of thinking about names and given you were on pretty strong painkillers, you didn’t think you dare suggest anything now. Instead you looked at the photo Jethro had given you when he’d got back from seeing your daughter. You could barely have imagined you’d be able to make something so perfect. You’d been promised you could go and see her tomorrow, as long as you were sufficiently recovered. Yawning, you sank into your pillows a bit more.

‘I’m going to leave you to get some rest,’ Jehtro soothed, kissing your hair. I’ll be back later,’

You’d hummed in agreement and a drowsiness overtook you as you fell back into a chemically induced sleep.

***

After a shower, clean clothes and a nap, Gibbs felt refreshed, but he was still taken aback by everything that had happened that day. He grabbed some clothes and toiletries for (y/n) and headed back to the hospital. Before going to see (y/n), he popped up to NICU to see his girl again. He smiled at her because he couldn’t get over how perfect she was. The nurse told him she’d need help with her breathing for a little while and that she’d need to feed via a tube to start with but that was doing really well. He stayed for half an hour, stroking her tiny arm and talking to her. He thanked the nurse and went to see (Y/N)

***

You felt a bit more with it after your nap. You’d managed to eat something and get a wash. You were sat up in bed when Jethro arrived. He sat himself next to you on the bed, put his arm around you and kissed you.

‘I’ve missed you,’ you say, resting your head on his chest.

‘I know, missed you too. Wasn’t expecting this though.’

‘I wasn’t either,’ you sighed. ‘I’ve been thinking about names. What about Hannah?’

You watch Jethro think it though before nodding his head. ‘I like it, Hannah it is.’

***

You woke up with a nurse doing your obs. You wince as you try to reposition yourself. The nurse promises to come back with some painkillers. You notice Jethro asleep in the reclining chair next to you and you smile as you realise you are going to meet your daughter today. The nurse returns with breakfast and your meds. She also puts a take-away coffee in front of Gibbs. You give her a confused look.

‘Some one called Jack just dropped it off.’

You smiled as you nodded your head.

‘I’ll call up to NICU when you’re up and ready and arrange for you to see your daughter. You’ll need a hand getting to the shower, you might be a bit wobbly.

‘He’ll be able to help,’ you say, pointing your head towards Jethro. ‘Once he’s had his coffee.’

***

Jethro pushed your wheelchair up to the NICU you looked all around you, taking in the number of incubators in the room. You were introduced to the nurse who has been looking after Hannah. You stand up so you can finally see your little girl. The photo didn’t do her justice, she was beautiful. You gently rubbed her delicate skin. Her tiny hand grabbed your little finger.

‘Remember to breathe,’ Jethro whispered, his arms holding your shoulder, his chin resting on your shoulder. He was right, you had held your breath the moment you’d seen her.

‘She’s…’

‘Perfect. Just like her mom,’ Jethro whispered, planting a kiss on your cheek.

You were discharged from hospital after a week. You were at the hospital every day to be with Hannah. Jethro went back to work but he went to see her every day.  Hannah stayed for another ten weeks, gradually passing milestones like breathing on her own and able to feed normally. She gave you some frights along the way, but when the day came to finally take her home you felt elated. Jethro went on personal leave so he could spend time with you both.

You cradled Hannah in your arms as you took the elevator. Jethro smiled at you. As you reached your floor, the doors opened, and you stepped out. There were the whole team waiting to see you and meet Hannah for the first time. You felt a sense of pride that Hannah didn’t just have you and her dad: she had a whole group of people who loved her and would move mountains for her.

#Leroy Jethro Gibbs #ncis fanfiction #ncis x reader #jacqueline sloane #leon vance #ellie bishop #nick torres #jimmy palmer #Tim McGee #angst and fluff #so much fluff #daddy gibbs

[dailyaudiobible]

06/26/2019 DAB Transcript

2 Kings 9:14-10:31, Acts 17:1-34, Psalms 144:1-15, Proverbs 17:27-28

Today is the 26th day of June. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible, I am Brian and its great to be here with you as we move through the center of the week, which I guess is why it's called hump day, we’re getting over the hump and moving to the back half of the week. But no matter what part of the week we’re in we’re always taking the next step forward through the Scriptures, which would take us back into the book of second Kings. We’re reading from the Contemporary English Version this week. Second Kings Chapter 9 verse 14 through 10 verse 31 today.

Commentary:

Alright. So, in the book of Acts we’re continuing along with Paul on his second missionary journey and we should note the way that Paul adapts what he's saying to who he's saying it to. So, in Thessalonica Paul’s in the synagogue, he’s opening the Scriptures and he's explaining how Jesus is a part of the Jewish story and a part of the Jewish heritage. And, so, many come to faith in Jesus and others are against him because they're envious or jealous and angry mob kicks Paul and Silas out of town. So, they go to Berea. Paul's in the synagogue again. The Berean’s are diligently searching the Scriptures. And, so, Paul's right there to interpret. Many come to faith, many get jealous. The they’re out of town again. So, then Paul’s in Athens where spirituality is very diverse but very open and he's talking about the unknown God because they worship many, many gods, including any unknown God that they may not have known about and Paul offers to them very concise, very simple explanation of how he sees the gospel. And, so, let’s look at that again. Let’s listen to what Paul says as if we’re in Athens and we don't have any of the background of the Bible, we don't know other than just sensing that there's a God out there. This is how Paul explains to a person who worships an unknown God. The thing is, we’ll all agree with it, we’re reading it out of the Bible. But consider, do you functionally believe this? Do you live as if this were the truth? So, Paul says, “I want to tell you about this God that you're worshiping that you don't know. This God made the world and everything in it. “He’s the Lord of heaven and earth, and He doesn't live in temples built by human hands. He doesn't need help from anyone. He gives life, breath, and everything else to all people. From one person, God made all nations who live on the earth, and He decided when and where every nation would be. God has done all this so that we will look for Him and reach out and find Him. He isn’t far from any of us and He gives us the power to live to move and to be who we are. We are His children, just to some of your poets have said. And since we are God's children must not think that He's like an idle made out of gold or silver or stone. He isn't like anything that humans have thought up and made. In the past God forgave all this because people did not know what they were doing but now He says that everyone everywhere must turn to Him. He has set a day when He will judge the world's people with fairness and He has chosen the man Jesus to do the judging for Him. God has given proof of this to all of us by raising Jesus from death.” So, there you go. We should find great comfort in that, great encouragement in that, but also put ourselves in the position of somebody who's never heard this before so that we understand the kinds of people that Paul is trying to reach and we should also notice that Paul adapts the way that he interacts with people based on who it is that he's trying to talk to, which doesn't mean he is trying to change his message, it means he's trying to enter a person's story from where they're coming from instead of trying to force-feed where he's coming from. A pretty invaluable lesson for us in this day and age.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for this simple concise truth of the gospel from the apostle Paul here in the book of Acts. It reminds us of the fact that we are Your children. We also acknowledge the fact that we don't know all that we think that we do and a posture of humility in entering into each other's stories is the way of Your kingdom. Come Holy Spirit we pray. And we ask in Jesus’ name expectantly as we surrender, as we allow You to have space and access to our hearts and our day and our actions. Come Holy Spirit we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

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Coming up in less than two weeks, the 7th of July, is our annual Daily Audio Bible long walk. It's happening on a Sunday this year so it kind of makes it easier. And we do this every July 7th. It's a day to give ourselves permission to say, “look, “I'm in the middle of the year, I have journeyed halfway through this year and come to this point with the rhythm of the Scriptures being in my life.” And by now we can see what the Bible does as we put it in our lives every day. So, it’s a day to regroup and go for a long walk with the God of the Bible who is revealing himself to us through the Scriptures. Yeah, just to spend the day saying all of the things that there just aren't time to say. Like we’re just too overcommitted, too out of balance, we’re running too hard. So, we take this one day and go for a long walk, go somewhere beautiful whether near or far and go for a long walk and we can say everything that needs to be said and to allow space because the Lord has some things He's been wanting but we’re just too busy to listen. So, what if we took a day and gave it to listening and just spending time with God and appreciating that life is happening all around us and we’re ignoring it. That's the 7th of July and yeah, it’s a very individual thing, but it's also a very communal thing that we’re doing as a community all over the world. And you just take your phone. You probably have your phone or something with you anyway. Snap a picture of wherever it is you go or take a little video of wherever it is you go and post it up to our Facebook page, facebook.com/dailyaudiobible and then we’ll post them up and they become these beautiful little moments that we get to share with each other, little windows into each other's lives and where it is that we are on the planet and where it is that's beautiful where we are and we get this wonderful picture of God's beauty all over the world on one day. So, make plans for that the 7th of July.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible as we navigate the summer months, then thank you profoundly for your partnership. There's a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253, is the number to dial.

And that is it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello, this is Christy in Korea. I am a first-time caller and I have been listening since January, but I am quite a way’s behind. I’m actually 10 weeks behind when you were at the More conference because on that Saturday I was giving birth to my first child. So, I just wanted to share that God is really awesome and I know there’s a lot of women and men out there struggling with infertility. And my husband and I were able to get fertility treatment and now we have a beautiful healthy boy after a loss last year and God…God is amazing, and I know he has a made a promise and I just wanted to__. Also, I heard there was another listening from Korea. You’re not alone. There’s another listener here and I just want to say hi. And I try to pray…I don’t pray for everyone, but I do pray for some people and I want you to know that I can’t remember who you are that I do try to pray for you and that you are being prayed for across the world. And, please pray for my husband because he is kind…I don’t know…agnostic and I see God making movements and I would just like to see him making more movements and thank you for everything you do, and I will try to catch up. Thank you.

Hey family this is Viola from Maryland I hope you’re all doing well. Brian and Jill God bless you. Family I want to encourage you to give to Daily Audio Bible. As Brian always says, this is the summer months and things always slow down during the summer months. So, give and God will bless you. Okay. Doug from Alabama, I’m praying for healing for you brother in the name of Jesus. The word of God says in Philippians 4:6 that you shall not be __ for anything but in everything that prayer and supplication make your request known to God. And, so, pray brother. As people pray for you also pray. And I pray that the peace of God who passes all understanding will flood your heart and mind and God will give you wisdom on how to take care of the __ situation. God bless you my brother. __ from New Zealand I’m praying for little baby willow. Oh, my goodness. God’s such a powerful God. I pray that God will touch this baby and heal her body. You will call back with great testimonies in the name of Jesus. Father Lord of heaven, I pray that you will arrive with healing in your wings over little Willow in the name of Jesus. __ I’m praying for favor for your brother-in-law, that you will get that wisdom. You know, God has a heart for families. I pray that Give her favor and she’ll be reconciled, she’ll be able to be with your son  __ Tyler in the name of Jesus. Rob from Canada, I am praying for Jimmy your son. I know how disheartening that can be. Lord of heaven, I pray that you will touch Jamie oh God, Father you that made the __ go away in the first place, I pray that that __ will be thing of the past in the name of Jesus, that every __ body will die in the name of Jesus because it’s…the word of God says that by the stripes of God, that by the stipes of Jesus Christ Jamie has been healed. I’m praying for you __ my sister. I pray that God will flood your business with clients in the name of Jesus. And lastly, Ben from London, I’m praying for your daughter and fellow kids, that they would do well in their __. God bless you….

Hi, DABbers this is Christchurch New Zealand calling. I really need your prayers for my brother. He is a good man but in a failed relationship with an erratic woman who has turned his two daughters against him. This has been going on for 16 years but severe in the last two and I feel that’s gonna break him. He’s strong, fit, hard-working, self-employed and continually gives to their demands to the point of them living or often going without. He wants to see his girls. There’s always a reason why he can’t. Even if he makes a date they find a reason to go out and so he doesn’t see them. He thinks about walking away but is not in him. I actually don’t know how he can still go on because it doesn’t of the Lord. So, I’m asking my DABbers if they can break every curse of his life and pray for the peace of the mind…of his mind and from the pressure that he gets in the demands of him continuing having to find work. He needs a lot of money to find each week to support the family and that there’ll be a breakthrough for his family somehow, that they’ll just be kind to him, they’d be easier on him. He’s positive and he’s always for them. So, would you pray with me please. Thank you.

Hey, God bless. This is Matthew Fouts. I’m calling from Interstate 10 in Mobile Alabama. May God bless you from the South all over the world. The Lord has a word, His word is truth and His word tells us that we must look past our present problems to see the face of Jesus. You must set aside the problems that You face every day and look for the face of Jesus. Jesus is greater than our problem. Jesus is the Lord, He is high and lifted up and we’re all facing something today, we’re all facing a giant, we’re all facing challenges. His word says to rejoice. So, we rejoice through the trials, we rejoice through the tribulations and we say that Jesus is Lord. We yield to the Father, we yield to the voice of the Father and we say, “Father, here we are. Send us.” Father, we’re here to do Your will. We believe in His son Jesus. We are covered by the blood and You are greater than any problem we shall face. Father, we thank You and we love You and we love each other in the name of Jesus. God bless you all.

[thenameofaslan]

Hey, The Name of Aslan followers! 

Currently we stand at 7 members, and to keep things unique, instead of using existing character names, we will be going by Narnia-inspired names we created ourselves! Our names are Veriele, Ailora, Gianah, Astriella, Haaven, Lailenah, and Elledia. Allow us to introduce ourselves! Below we will be sharing some facts about ourselves & our interest in Narnia. 

Hello! I’m Veriele!

Favourite book:

My favourite book tends to change a lot. Of course The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a classic, and in and of itself it’s possibly the most magical story of the 7. However, I also love The Magician’s Nephew for the beautiful creation of Narnia it shows us. Then The Horse and His Boy really stands out from the other books, and I love the characters and their growth so much. But I think when it comes down to it, The Last Battle holds the most special place in my heart. The ending chapters are so full of life and beauty. The parade of returning characters in Aslan’s Country is stunning and hits my nostalgic heart hard. And those final lines just fill my heart with joy! It’s a hard choice, as the entire series is absolutely lovely, but I do think The Last Battle stands out to me most of all.

Favourite Aslan quote:

I love a lot of Aslan’s lines, but I think my top 3 are “Courage, dear heart,” “Do not dare not to dare,” and “Now you are a lioness.”

Favourite Bible verse:

In the entire Bible it’s hard to choose just one, but Revelation 21:5a fills me with a special kind of joy. “He who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!’”

Songs that remind me of Narnia:

A lot of songs remind me of Narnia, but to name a few: Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World, North by Sleeping At Last, and Long Live by Taylor Swift.

What kind of content or art I make/enjoy:

I make edits, analytical posts, and I write the occasional fic!

Hi everyone, I’m Ailora!

Favorite book:

For the Christian themes, my favorite will always be The Last Battle. The ending few chapters make me cry. I also love the atmosphere of Voyage of the Dawn Treader, especially the ending.

Favorite Aslan scene:

It’s so hard to choose just one. I guess I’d have to say the scene where Aslan appears and walks beside Cor on the mountain pass in HAHB. I love Aslan’s gentleness with Cor, but also the sense of wonder when he starts to reveal himself and how he’s been acting in Cor’s story. I love that during the entire scene, Aslan is walking beside Cor to protect him from falling off the mountain, and also that he is guiding Cor to exactly the place he needs to be. I love Cor’s response to seeing Aslan, and I love that Aslan leaves him a footprint-full of cold water at the end. It’s just a beautiful picture of God’s provision and love and kindness and knowledge of us.

Favorite Bible verse:

Again, hard to choose. But for now I’ll say Ephesians 3:17-19: “That you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”

Hi, I’m Gianah.

How I got interested in Narnia:

I got interested in Narnia when my friend forced me to watch The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I immediately bought the collection of all seven books, joined tumblr and then got even more obsessed with it. Once I found out other people actually really liked the series, I started to be more invested. The rest is history.

Favourite Bible Verse:

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ 29:11

Kinds of art or content I enjoy/make:

I love both writing and painting/ drawing. I love making analysis texts so much, and also narrative texts.

Hey everyone! I'm Astriella :)

How I got into Narnia:

I've loved Narnia since I was about twelve, when I was first allowed to read the books (I think I burned through all 7 in about a month!). Even then I loved finding “hidden meanings” in stuff and Narnia is a treasure trove of allegory and allusion!

My favourite non-human character:

My favorite has to be Jewel the Unicorn.  Both because unicorns are amazing and majestic and all, but because of his loyalty for Tirian, his sacrificial love, and his gentle gentility.

My favorite Aslan moment: 

It has to be from VotDT, from the Dark Island where nightmares come true.  Lucy, up in the crow’s-nest, looks down on the havoc and chaos on deck as the sailors panic in terror, and whispers to Aslan, begging for help. And help comes in the form of an albatross, which circles the crow’s-nest before leading the ship to safety; but in that moment Lucy hears Aslan’s voice whisper to her, “Courage, dear heart.” That scene means a lot to me because anxiety always provides plenty of possible nightmares, but I know my God will lead me to safety and He gives me courage.

Hello! I’m Haaven!

How I got interested in Narnia:

 I literally cannot remember a time when I wasn’t. I grew up on the series. My true obsession with it, however, would have begun in about 4th grade when I found the entire series in the school library and read them all for the first time.

When/how I became a Christian?

 I could talk for a very long time on this, but I’ll try to keep in short(ish). I grew up in a Christian home so I always kind of knew  that I needed Jesus, but I didn’t know how to go about it. I was also the most shy person you would ever meet, so I wasn’t about to ask anyone how, either. But then when I was ten, I went to church camp for one week during the summer for the first time. (I wasn’t sure I really wanted to go, but my mom convinced me with, “Well, your sister will be there, so you’ll be fine!” haha.) And, I guess you could say, the rest is history (since this is the short version, haha). :P

Favorite Narnia-esque songs:

 I have so many, but I will limit myself to three: All the King’s Horses by Karmina (totally an Edmund/ movie!PC!Peter/ Eustace song!), Up All Night by David Archuleta (okay, yes, I know this is a love song, but if you think about it as Lucy and Aslan especially in LWW… It’s adorable, okay?!?), and Beautifully Broken by Plumb (sort of a post-Last Battle Susan song).

Hi! My name is Lailenah.

Favorite non-human Narnia character:

This is a tough question, because the majority of my faves aren’t human! Hwin and Bree, Mr. Tumnus, Reepicheep, the centaurs, and then of course Aslan in his completely own category...But I’m going to have to go with Puddleglum because I LOVE him. Many heroes tend to be optimistic, hopeful, and outgoing people, but Puddleglum’s the opposite. And yet he’s still a very caring, courageous, and loyal individual; he stays true to his faith and encourages the others to do the same, especially in the scene where the Green Witch tries to enchant them so they deny that the world above and Aslan exist. And when everything is at its most hopeless point, he’s the one to offer hope in the form of, “We’re just four babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play world that licks your world hollow. That’s why I’m on Aslan’s side, even if there’s no Aslan to lead it.” He’s not a ray of sunshine, but he can be a gleam in the darkest places, when it’s most needed. And sometimes I feel like as a Christian, some people expect that you must always be “joyful” (aka wear a cheerful smile, be optimistic, and act outgoing) to be a good witness and influential for Christ. But Puddleglum reminds me that I can be real, I can be honest, and I can be an encouragement to others even when I am at a low point (in fact, being with others during their low points because I understand how it feels might be when I am most needed!). My faith and my effectiveness to others as a Christian is not less because I am not an extrovert. It is not less because I struggle mentally and feel exhausted because of anxious or depressed thoughts. No. I was created the way I am for a reason. I have the challenges I have for a reason. We all do, and that’s okay. No matter our differences, we’re not less than anyone else in God’s loving eyes, and He has a unique time and place for each of us to serve as His light as Puddleglum did.

Favorite Narnia book:

It’s always been the Last Battle. I love how intense it gets in this book, how the evil is overwhelming, the stakes are high, and the battle between right and wrong is at its climax. It feels like the good guys are losing as their already sparse armies dwindle, and the main characters are being forced into the stable. Sometimes that sense of being overwhelmed mirrors how I feel when I look at all the scary, sad, and bad things happening in the world today, but I’m encouraged by the characters who still are soldiers for Aslan’s cause, who keep going and trusting in what’s right in spite of that and in spite of the fact that can’t see what’s coming next. And then, of course, Aslan’s country. I love seeing all the familiar faces from throughout the series and the joy and rest they find in eternity with Aslan and their loved one. It shows that it truly is worth it all.

What kind of content or art I make/enjoy:

I have always loved to write!  So fanfiction and meta are definitely my favorite ways to participate. Bet you couldn’t tell that I tend to drone on. ;)  (I also make mood boards on occasion.)

Hi, Elledia here!

Favourite book: 

A Horse and His Boy or Silver Chair

What age we got interested in Narnia: 

I SAY 7, but I grew up watching the BBC miniseries, so I don’t know for sure.

Favourite Aslan quote:

 “And I was the Lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.”

When/how I became a Christian:

 Raised in the church/missionary brat. I decided when I was around eight that I wanted to be baptized and though there’ve been some bumps along the way, I’m growing in Christ as best as I can.

Narnia-esque songs: 

“If You Want Me To” by Ginny Owens reminds me a lot of Narnia, for some reason.

Kinds of art or content I enjoy/make:

 I write, so fanfic and metas are my thing, but I enjoy all kinds of art.

Anyways, it’s great to meet you all! We hope to interact with you all more in the future, and as we begin creating original posts for this blog. Our ask box is open, should you have any questions! Thanks for following us! <3

#thenameofaslan #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #c. s. lewis #text #mod

[life-of-lizbet]

another "celebrity" sighting (yesterday) and sorry for the long Independence Day post

For those of y'all who don’t understand Independence Day weekend in Wolfeboro, let me explain…

Everyone with a summer house/family with a summer house/etc. flocks to Wolfeboro for the long weekend to escape the madness that is the Boston and its suburbs and New York City and it’s suburbs. (My friend’s mom has a lake house in Wolfeboro, and their friends from California are up for the week. I’m not kidding when I say everyone flocks here- I’m just glad I’m not working.)

I’ve already explained Jimmy Fallon and Mitt Romney (and other politicians) in my previous posts. Yesterday my dad told me that another “celebrity” was in the store. I say “celebrity” with quotations because it’s not like the average person would know who this dude is, like with Jimmy Fallon (okay maybe his stache would throw you off) or Mitt Romney. The owner of the Boston Celtics (basketball) was in yesterday. I was like “no way!” Wyc Grousbeck is his name, and according to my dad in the past he’s given two of our coworkers tickets to see the Celtics play. You can’t make this crap up, I’m tellin’ ya!

Okay, back to Independence Day in Wolfeboro. As I sit here writing this (~9:40 am), the parade is gathering to step off at 10 am sharp. This is the first year (I’m pretty sure ever?) that I won’t be in Wolfeboro for Independence Day, and it’s actually kind of sad. For the last 6 years I’ve marched in the parade with the Cate Park community band, and before that I’d always watch the parade with my family- each year it would be a different combination of my family, depending on who was around. Sometimes my aunt would come over from Maine, other years we’d watch the parade with my grandparents, and still others we would watch it with my grandmother and her friend (and whoever she invited along).

The last 6 years that I’ve marched in the parade (last year with my brother, he plays the trumpet), we’d have to be out of the house by 9 am, give or take, to make it into town by around 9:15 am. Depending on the year, my mom would drive me up to the starting point, up South Main Street (which turns into North Main Street) or as the case was last year, my brother and I simply walked from the store parking lot up South Main Street. It’s about a 7-ish minute walk uphill, depending on how fast you can book it. My mom found it easier to dump us (or just myself, if my brother wasn’t marching) in the parking lot. I’d hike up the street with my saxophone and music in hand, ready to take on the parade.

A few short stories from Independence Days of years past-

It must have been either 2 or 3 years ago now that this happened. So the way the parade works, is everyone lines up in order of groups. We’re the band, and we march, so we’re like the third group to go off. Therefore, we line up at the very front. Every other group lines up behind us. This parade lineup stretches god knows how long, snaking its way down residential streets. (You wouldn’t drive down that road unless you lived there, kinda deal.) Alrighty, now you have sufficient background for this story to actually make sense.

So when the parade begins, we turn left onto North Main Street, where we will march for the entirety of the parade. Just over halfway through, North Main Street becomes South Main Street, but it’s still the same road that we’re marching on. Anywho, as parade begins and we step off, we begin by playing one of the two songs we’ve chosen to march with. (We have small copies of the songs, both of which are about 5"x7".)

Once we finish the first song, we continue marching along while the drummers play to a beat so we can catch our breath and switch songs. One of the older ladies in the group (probably mid-60’s) who plays the flute was waving to one of her friends or a family member or something, but when she waved she did so with the hand that was holding the flute and BAM! it landed on the pavement. She managed to drop her flute while waving because she opened her hand 🙈😂 My god, that was hilarious. And go figure, the flute wasn’t damaged (as far as she could tell.)

Another story-

So when we finish the parade, it wraps down a side road where the private high school is. Then everyone disperses once we hear the news on when to show up for the Independence Day concert in the park that night. So we walk down the sidewalk, back the same way we came. The perks of being in the beginning of the parade- you can watch most of the parade after you’ve finished marching!

So I walked back to the store parking lot, took care of my instrument and put it in the car. Then I joined my mom and brother to watch the parade. At some point, three local people (one of them being my eye doctor), were marching along dressed in regalia that made them look like they stepped out of the year 1800 or something. They were carrying rifles and every so often along the parade route, they’d stop and shoot into the air. (The dogs never approved of this, and they made it clear.) This time, they stopped pretty much right in front of us. Now, they try to make them all go off at once- you can probably see where this is going. They aimed, they fired, and only two of them went off. The other poor soul struggled mightily. So, he tried again, and nothing but laughter from the parade-goers. Finally, he made it go off, to a sarcastic “yay” approval from the parade-goers. Whata time.

(As I’m writing this, the parade is stepping off in Wolfeboro. Happy Independence Day!)

Now, another thing to understand about Wolfeboro- because everyone and their third cousins are up for the week, that creates a lot of people who need to be fed one way or another. Many people will go out to eat once or twice, but on Independence Day, everyone is having a cookout with burgers and dogs and beer and chips and soda and macaroni salad and coleslaw and EVERYTHING. And I mean EVERYTHING. So that means that everyone has to flock to the grocery store to buy food. The locals (us who live in Wolfeboro year-round) understand that unless you are in and out of the grocery store by like 8:30am on July 3rd, don’t even bother. It’s that bad. The past few summers I’ve been working on the floor putting up freight. (Basically when the truck comes, we quickly unload all of the dairy and frozen foods and grocery items and then scramble to get it all on the shelf as quickly as humanly possible, because by 9am, you’re screwed if everything isn’t up on the shelves yet.) It’s stressful, but let me tell you time absolutely flies when you’re running around tying to get everything on the shelf so customers don’t trip over boxes of pancake mix or 12-packs of yogurt.

That’s just a very long-winded way of saying the store is packed on Independence Day weekend. Last year I had the pleasure of working a 12 hour shift on July 3rd (sarcasm is oozing from this remark, just as an FYI.) I worked 6 am to noon on the floor, putting up freight, filling the gallon water display, filling the beer and wine, filling the ice (I’ll get to that in a moment), filling the ice cream, and finally helping my dad fill the milk and orange juice cases. Phew. It’s a lot just thinking about it all.

Now, when people buy bags of ice, they either buy the 5 pound bags, which are your basic $2 bags of ice that you would usually find at your local gas station or convenience store. We also sell 10 pound blocks of ice (rarely do we sell any of these), and 25 pound bags of ice for $6.49. (It’s cheaper to buy one 25 pound bag of ice than 5 5 pound bags of ice, which is why people often go for the 25 pound bag of ice.) Now these things are rather large, and we can only fit so many of them in the freezer located in the entrance/exit hallway of the store. We can probably fit about 10-12 bags in there, but the overflow freezers outside store many more. So if own customer buys two 25 pound bags of ice, another customer buys one bag, and another customer buys three bags, well, we’re getting low on ice. So we always have to keep and eye on the ice to make sure we have enough that people can grab.

Enough on ice. Back to the chaos that is July 3rd in Wolfeboro. Because everyone flocks to the grocery stores to stock up on food and plates and beer and wine and everything else, everyone grabs a shopping cart as they enter the store. Sometimes families will grab two or three carts- it’s honestly like they’re feeding small armies. People who live on one of several islands on Lake Winnipesaukee take their boats to the town docks, so they will have to take their shopping carts down with them to the docks. We don’t require that they bring them back to the store, although some are kind enough that they do. We usually send a bagger down a couple of times over the course of the day to bring the carts back. It doesn’t take them more than 10 minutes to go down to the docks, chorale up 3 or 4 carts, and bring them back. The only problem is, it’s so busy we don’t have time to send baggers down to the docks to fetch carts until someone realizes “crap, were down to threes shopping carts in the hallway.” By then it’s maybe 10 am and one hell of a mad dash to get carts back to the store so people can shop for their food.

My home sickness (is it though? I’m not sure tbh) is probably quite evident from this post. To be fair, this is the first Independence Day I’ve spent away from home and away from my family. While I would have loved to been home for the long weekend, I’m actually kind of glad I’m not. My best friend from back home is at her summer internship at Western New England University, my mom and dad both had to work today, and I probably would have had to put up with excessive drama at home relating to everything going on at my parents work. I guess the drama can wait until I’m home and back at work in three short weeks.

Until then, Happy Independence Day, and I’ll keep y'all posted on crap my mom and dad fill me in on.

#sorry for the long post #independence day #celtics owner #wolfeboro

[7r0773r]

Tree of Smoke by Denis Johnson

“. . . . The point is — aha! yes! the bastard has a point and isn’t too damn drunk to bring it home — this is the point, Will.” Nobody else ever called him Will. “St. Paul says there is one God, he confirms that, but he says, ‘There is one God, and many administrations.’ I understand that to mean you can wander out of one universe and into another just by pointing your feet and forward march. I mean you can come to a land where the fate of human beings is completely different from what you understood it to be. And this utterly different universe is administered through the earth itself. Up through the dirt, goddamn it.” (p. 63)

***

[Kathy] set down her shoes inside the door, made her way to the bedroom. She groped for the flashlight on the nightstand and undressed by its dim illumination. On the nightstand also lay Timothy’s book, she’d found it among his things, the dreadful essays of John Calvin and his doctrine of predestination, promising a Hell full of souls made expressly to be damned, she didn’t know what to do with it, kept it near her, couldn’t help returning to its spiritual pornography like a dog to its vomit. She found a match, lit a coil of insecticidal incense in a dish, crawled under the mosquito net, drew the sheet to her chin . . . Certain persons positively and absolutely chosen to salvation, others as absolutely appointed to destruction . . . Lying there in the stink of her life with her hair still wet from rain. She didn’t touch the book. (pp. 83-84)

***

The priest seemed to sense Skip’s disarray. He was solicitous. “We all have a spiritual trial to go through. When I was a little boy I was very hateful toward the Jews because I said they were the crucifiers. I was very contemptuous of Judas too, because of his betrayal.”

“I see,” Sands said, and saw nothing.

Carignan seemed to struggle. The words stuck in his throat. He touched his mouth with his fingers. “Well, it’s very much for each person to experience alone,” he said, and whatever truth he meant to get at, his eyes were the visible scars of it. (p. 106)

***

He had more on his mind than his love life. He worried about his mother. She didn’t make much money at the ranch. She exhausted herself. She’d grown thinner, knobbier. She spent the first half of every Sunday at the Faith Tabernacle, and every Saturday afternoon she drove a hundred miles to the prison in Florence to see her common-law husband. James had never accompanied her on these pilgrimages, and Burris, now almost ten, refused to serve as escort — just ran away into the neighborhood of shacks and trailers and drifting dust when the poor old woman started getting herself ready on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

James didn’t know how he felt about Stevie, but he knew his mother broke his heart. Whenever he mentioned enlisting in the service, she seemed willing to sign the papers, but if he left her now, how would it all turn out for her? She had nothing in this world but her two hands and her crazy love for Jesus, who seemed, for his part, never to have heard of her. James suspected she was just faking herself out, flinging herself at the Bible and its promises like a bug at a window. Having just about reached a decision in his mind to quit school and see the army recruiters, he stalled for many weeks, standing at the top of the high dive. Or on the edge of the nest. “Mom,” he said, “every eagle has to fly.” “Go ahead on, then,” she said. (pp. 138-39)

***

On the last page, another note in the colonel’s hand:

Tree of Smoke—(pillar of smoke, pillar of fire) the “guiding light” of a sincere goal for the function of intelligence—restoring intelligence-gathering as the main function of intelligence operations, rather than to provide rationalizations for policy. Because if we don’t the next step is for career-minded power-mad cynical jaded bureaucrats to use intelligence to influence policy. The final step is to create fictions and serve them to our policy-makers in order to control the direction of government. ALSO—”Tree of Smoke”—note similarity to mushroom cloud. HAH! (p. 254)

***

[E.M. Cioran] Doubt collapses onto us like a disaster; far from choosing it, we fall into it. And try as we will to pull out of it, to trick it away, it never loses sight of us, for it is not even true that it collapses onto us—doubt was in us, and we were predestined to it. (p. 357)

***

Skip on his knees at an open footlocker, lifting out the troughs of card files — a musk of paper and glue, slight nausea, anger, those many months with these odors in his mouth, al of it a waste — and found the T’s and flicked through the cards by their edges and plucked out three entries in his uncle’s block printing:

ToS

A pillar of smoke stood above the Ark like a cedar tree. It brought such a beautiful perfume to the world that the nations exclaimed, “Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like a tree of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all the powders of the perfumer?” Song of Solomon 3:6

ToS

And I will give portents in the heavens and on the earth, blood and fire and palm trees of smoke. The sun shall be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes. Joel 2:30, 31

ToS

“cloudy pillar” — Exodus 33:9, 10. literal — “tree of smoke.” (p. 445)

***

[Trung] watched people passing on the street. Surrounded by souls he didn’t know he woke to the world in its true scale, not a room with a window that looked at a wall, but an entire world in which he was lost. Whatever the details of the situation, whatever the nature of the problem, whoever had let him down, he was lost. 

And to think how careful he’d been, and how pointlessly. It wasn’t that he regretted the mistake. He regretted the hesitation. Doubt is one thing, hesitation another. I waited three years to decide. I should have jumped. Doubt is the truth, hesitation a lie. (p. 484)

***

The patient’s two comrades squatted by a tree not far off, ready to fetch whatever might be needed, as if they had anything to fetch. The man’s family kept out of the way in one of the hooches, all but a toothless mamasan who enacted a ritual of private significance only a few meters away, out in the relentless sunshine, in the smoke of the charcoal fire and the steam from the pot where the instruments boiled: a dance of ominous hesitations, and sudden leaps, and arabesques. Dr. Mai permitted the display without comment, and Kathy welcomed it as boding well for the patient. The idea that among the ragged, the crazy, the whirly-eyed, the frothing-at-the-mouth, among the sideways, among the mumblers, shufflers, laughers, a bit of loving scrutiny would turn up the blessed poor in spirit, the burned visionary, the holy vagrant — she’d always entertained it, this romance. (pp. 530-31)

***

He’d lived almost twenty-five years, his hardships colored in his own mind as youthful adventures, someday to be followed by a period of intense self-betterment, then accomplishment and ease. But this morning in particular he felt like a man overboard far from any harbor, keeping afloat only for the sake of it, waiting for his strength to give out.

When would he strike out for shore? When would he receive the gift of desperation? He stayed under the covers in the chilly, Lysol-smelling room until the management knocked on the door. He asked for ten minutes, showered, and went bak to bed to wait for the knock that meant business. (p. 538)

***

[Jimmy Storm] “Man, it’s no good if he’s doing it for money. You’ve gotta do it for the thing, man, the thing. You need a reason, you need to be sent by the signs and messages.” (p. 592)

***

The headman raised a hand and the circles parted for a quartet of women, each clutching the corner of a blanket. They laid it before the priest — a pile of hacked wooden carvings, most no bigger than a hand, several others up to half the size of any of their Roo worshippers. The four women threw back their heads and bawled like children as the headman attacked the figures with his axe. As he worked at it, getting them all, and as the women knelt to collect the pieces and add them to the pyre, Mahathir said, “They break their household gods and throw them on the fire because the gods haven’t helped them. These gods must die. The world may end with the death of these gods. The sacrifice of the soul of the stranger may prevent the world’s end. Then new gods will rise.” (p. 594)

***

Chosen to suffer penance because no one else is left. Traversing inordinate zones, the light beyond brighter or dimmer, never enough light, nothing to tell him, no direction home. One figure yet to be revealed in his truth. 

Everyone had unmasked himself, every false face had dissolved, every dissemblance but one, his own. (p. 596)

***

The scene before [Kathy] flattened, lost one of its dimensions, and the noise dribbled irrelevantly down its face. Something was coming. This moment, this very experience of it, seemed only the thinnest gauze. She sat in the audience thinking — someone here has cancer, someone has a broken heart, someone’s soul is lost, someone feels naked and foreign, thinks they once knew the way but can’t remember the way, feels stripped of armor and alone, there are people in this audience with broken bones, others whose bones will break sooner or later, people who’ve ruined their health, worshipped their own lies, spat on their dreams, turned their backs on their true beliefs, yes, yes, and all will be saved. All will be saved. All will be saved. (p. 614)

#denis johnson #book quotes

[theliterateape]

American Shithole #2 — How Deep Is Our Shithole?

by Eric Wilson

Ugh, what a week already.

I have entertained adding the occasional silver lining/ray of sunshine to a column that could likely depress more often than elate. This would require a subheading. American Shithole: Turds of Wisdom, or American Shithole: Kernels of Truth, perhaps.

Or, American Shithole: I Just Can’t, Today.

If I do include any rose-tinted hangover editions, they will be few and far between, because this country is a hot mess on a lost weekend. America has tossed its keys in the sewage drain, taken its shirt off, and is wandering around a Walmart somewhere with one flip-flop on, looking for paint thinner.

What’s worse is that when we survive this administration, a lot of our issues will still be here. They were here long before too many of us got drunk on fear, populism and stupidity.

So I watched the State of the Union, and if you had happened to be listening from the next room, you would have been privy to cackles, expletives, and you might have even heard an eye-roll. The President did actually address a few of the following issues that ultimately he will do nothing about:

Our infrastructure is indeed collapsing, as it has been for decades. Our interstates and bridges are in dangerous disrepair. When the Eisenhower administration — a republican administration mind you — set in motion a tax plan requiring the wealthy to shoulder significant expense for new infrastructure, the plutocrats in response undermined middle-class and poor families for three generations; in what has become an ongoing effort to maintain a conservative voting bloc by pitting Americans against each other.

We haven’t adequately invested in infrastructure since.

Public schools have been shortchanged at every turn by the ruling class. It only requires a reporter to shove a microphone into the face of a Trump supporter for evidence of an undervalued education. Or, if you are feeling particularly courageous, a Jimmy Kimmel street interview.

The only true danger to any aristocracy has always been an educated and well-informed populace. We’ve had nearly three generations now of Americans voting against their own self-interests, and the dumbing-down of rural America in particular seems to be worsening.

Healthcare is a joke without a punchline. If keeping the citizenry ignorant isn’t sufficient, or if you can’t keep them all dumb enough, then keep them scared for their lives. Nothing works better — if scaring the shit out of people is your intent — than the indifferent bureaucracy of insurance companies and America’s special brand of super-capitalism strip-mining human misery for market value.

The real danger posed by Obamacare is that it offered hope to the hopeless. It is as if the healthcare available prior to the Affordable Care Act — basically unaffordable access to bottom-of-the-barrel health services, and the crippling debt that still somehow followed — was expected to be taken as a blessing, a kindness from our benevolent benefactors, and not an insidious effort to leverage struggling Americans into quiet submission.

Powerful people like the Koch brothers were very angry that the poor and needy of our country were able to taste the merest hint of true freedom that Universal Healthcare would provide.

This too is the ultimate function of student loans, where America stands again as an outlier, saddling our best and brightest young people with an albatross right out of the gate. The only purpose of these enormous debt burdens on our youth is to create leverage and fear.  

Speaking of scholastic environments, as of January 23rd we have had eleven school shootings this year. This year that started, this month. Eleven. That’s more than the rest of the western world’s countries combined. Let that sink in a moment — if anything can sink in amidst this ceaseless maelstrom of fear, greed, lies, horrific violence, and profound stupidity.

“Where’d you get your figures, Librul?”

We have access to data for school shootings worldwide, for one, because these atrocities rarely happen anywhere else — I am assuming this is because in non-shithole countries, the images of your own dead children in classrooms is so fucking horrific, people actually do something about it.

Or we could just keep flooding our communities with bump stocks and military-grade assault weaponry, because you know, freedom.

We are one of the only western countries where opioids are only available from a physician, and somehow unrelated, we are the only country suffering from a catastrophic opioid addiction crisis. A crippling death sentence that has no geographical, class or racial barriers has already shuffled a few of my favorite artists off this mortal coil. I guess that song I wrote for Tom Petty “Running Down a Fentanyl Prescription” will have to remain unrecorded gold.

The situation is already so toxic in some smaller communities that literally no family has been left unchallenged and unchanged. Why are rural communities hit hardest? Infrastructure, in part. Everything is connected.

Drug distributors that saturated this small West Virginia town with 20 million painkillers probably sleep like kittens.

Weaving like a drunk on a highway throughout this quagmire of poverty, ignorance, poor health, drug addiction and despair, we have our embarrassing legacy of racism and prejudice. Thriving, it seems, in the basements of weary mothers everywhere. Along with a disgusting resurgence of misogyny that I was not expecting either — certainly not from those significantly younger than I am. Throat-punching these mongoloid fucks should be considered civic duty.

And then we have men, some once-revered, that turned out to be rapists — that have in some cases, systematically abused power and position over the course of decades. If the situation were normal, I would probably take weeks to unpack how disappointed; disgusted I feel by Charlie Rose, and others I admired. Or even linger over the Schadenfreude I have experienced for shit-bags I never liked in the first place. I’m looking at you, Matt Lauer.

We just don’t have the time to reflect, not these days.

Ultimately, in Machiavellian fashion, moderating and doling out most of this misery we have the billionaires, whose lives are so far removed from anything remotely representing normal human existence, it begs the question: who are these greedy fucking assholes? In my opinion, billionaires are the real dead weight for humanity. Dead weight created in a soulless economic construct gone haywire.  

A report in Newsweek recently shared some numbers that I find most troubling for a group of people I already despise. If the billionaires of the world were to share just 1/7th of what they earned this past year — not the billions they already horde, just 15% or so of what they accumulated on top of that this year — extreme poverty and starvation would end.

Instead, the Koch brothers will invest more than they ever have before in an attempt to win 2018 elections for the republicans that they have already pocketed long ago. All just to stay as rich as possible. That is what this has always been about. This is about obscenely overvalued gluttons staying obscenely overvalued, no matter the human suffering.

We — and by “we” I mean those of us that are influenced by generosity and compassion, and some sense of fucking decency — must truly resist. We must find ways to rise above our own instincts as Americans; with our seemingly ingrained worship of the ultra-rich. Look, I don’t want to have to keep breaking it to you, but these guys are fucking assholes.

These (547 or so) comically overvalued and overpowered individuals aren’t all evil, but the damage done by the worst among them (Koch Brothers, Mercers, etc.) is incalculable. There is also the stifling effect of having that much value out of circulation; even if they weren’t guilty of tampering with American politics — creating the Tea Party, for example — their greed manifested is strangulating the pursuit of happiness for nearly everyone else.

On top of the heap we have Trump — dumbest, luckiest douchebag of them all. Faux billionaire, if there ever was one. The Giant Orange Idiot is nearly universally despised by friend and foe alike — with the notable exception of his base, that bastion of intelligence worried about brown people coming to take their dirt piles. Hey Cletus, no one is coming for your fucking shitty dirt pile in Bumblefuck Nowhere, U.S.A.

Trump also has the support of the evangelicals, who as I have stated, are one rung above the flat-earthers in problem-solving and critical thinking capabilities.   

If we continue down this path, the United States is in danger of becoming this century’s answer to Nazi Germany, or at least an oligarchical, nationalist, modern-day version of it. And if you think that’s bombastic, then I suggest you review your history books, and perhaps take another look around you right now. This hollowed-out husk of an American Dream — is ripe to turn dystopian nightmare — and that is something to which I hope we will not silently bear witness.

Before this starts reading like a manifesto, or a really painful civics report, I think it’s time to wrap this one up. What can I say? Being forced to watch Trump speak for 90 minutes makes me chatty. Or barfy. Yes, by Thursday’s posting, I am sure that the memo has already blown up.  Be strong my beautiful brothers and sisters. Find your line, and fucking hold it.

I would like to close with a pleasant thought that came to me a year ago now:

There will come a day, perhaps you’ll be on a date or spending the evening with a good friend, you’ll be enjoying a quiet exchange over a comforting meal, and the conversation will turn. One of you will inhale sharply and say, “wow, we haven’t heard that name in a while.”

A moment of silence may pass with reflection. You’ll both sigh, perhaps grin, and that grin might broaden into a smile.

I don’t know what year it’s going to be. I don’t know if I will live to see it, but the collective ‘we’ are going to have this moment. It’s going to be a magical moment.

I hope this thought brings you some comfort, my fellow Americans.

Stay tuned next week for American Shithole: Skid Marks of Justice?

#State of the Union