#Tozer in the Morning

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

The Trustworthiness of God's Behavior

by Aiden Wilson Tozer

God said to Moses, "I AM WHO I AM. This is what your are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'" — Exodus 3:14

Science observes how the power of God operates, discovers a regular pattern somewhere and fixes it as a "law." The uniformity of God's activities in His creation enables the scientist to predict the course of natural phenomena. The trustworthiness of God's behavior in His world is the foundation of all scientific truth. Upon it the scientist rests his faith and from there he goes on to achieve great and useful things in such fields as those of navigation, chemistry, agriculture, and the medical. Religion, on the other hand, goes back of nature to God. It is concerned not with the footprints of God along the paths of creation, but with the One who treads those paths. Religion is interested primarily in the One who is the source of all things, the master of every phenomenon. For this One philosophy has various names, the most horrendous that I have seen being that supplied by Rudolf Otto: "The absolute, the gigantic, never-resting, active world stress." The Christian delights to remember that this "world stress" once said "I AM," and that the greatest teacher of them all directed His disciples to address Him as a person: "When ye pray, say, Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name." The men of the Bible everywhere communed with this "gigantic absolute" in language as personal as speech affords, and with Him prophet and saint walked in a rapture of devotion, warm, intimate, and deeply satisfying.

#Aiden Wilson Tozer #The Trustworthiness of God's Behavior #devotional #Exodus 3:14 #Tozer in the Morning #March 14 #2023

[manicpixiedreamjop]

oooohhhh 28 - "I know your friends" with either solittle or armitozer please! <333

(Putting this one under a cut bc it got a bit long!)

“What the fuck happened to you?”

It’s not as if Edward has any say in where Sol goes or what he does, as Sol had been kind enough to remind him on his way out the door earlier when Edward had asked where he was going (“None of your fuckin’ business Neddie, you’re not my boyfriend and you’re not my mum, so fuck off, yeah?”). He feels justified in asking now though, as Sol stumbles through the door just past one in the morning, lip split, brilliant black eye blooming on the right side of his face.

“Got in a fight, didn’t I?” says Sol, tugging open the fridge and leaning into it, pulling out a beer and immediately holding it up to the bruise on his eye. His eyes look slightly out of focus, and Edward doesn’t know if it’s from the injury or if he’s been drinking already too.

“With who?”

“Does it matter?”

“Your face is bleeding, Sol,” says Edward, shoving himself to his feet and walking across the kitchen towards him. “So yeah, I’d say it fucking matters.”

“A friend,” snaps Sol.

“What friend?”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know your friends.”

“Can we not with the third degree, right now?” asks Sol, and this time Edward is sure he’s drunk. Better that than concussed, he supposes. “My fuckin’ head is killing me.”

“Do you think it’s because you got punched in the face?” asks Edward, but he softens his voice, taking the beer out of Sol’s hand with one hand and turning his chin towards the light with the other. The bruise is nasty, but the cut on his lip isn’t as bad as it had looked when he’d walked in, only crusted with old blood, already mostly closed. “Come on, Sol,” he continues, even softer this time. “What’s going on with you?”

Sol lets out a long, slow breath through his nose, and finally looks at Edward properly, eyes big and far softer than Edward ever gets to see them when Sol’s sober. “Was seeing someone,” Sol says finally. “Didn’t work out.”

“They did—” Edward says, forcing himself to stay calm, to push down the anger rising in him, sure it’s the last thing Sol needs right now.

“I thought—” Sol starts, but he cuts himself off too, shrugging awkwardly. Edward realises all at once that his hand is still on Sol’s chin, but can’t bring himself to move it, especially not when Sol leans into the touch. “I don’t know what I thought,” he continues after a moment, and then, before Edward can say anything else, Sol leans forward and kisses him.

He tastes like blood and whiskey, his several days of stubble scratching against Edward’s chin, and Edward is already opening his mouth and leaning back into the kiss before he quite processes what he’s doing. Because they don’t do this, him and Sol. They’re flatmates, they’re old friends, and maybe they’ve gotten off together a few times when they were drunk, and maybe Edward fantasises about getting down on his knees and sucking Sol off every time Sol comes home from the gym all flushed and sweaty and grinning, but they don’t do this. Edward has never even dared allow himself to want this.

“Sol,” he says, pulling away, forcing himself not to react to the small, disappointed noise that Sol makes. “You’re drunk.”

“And?” asks Sol. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you. That I haven’t wanted you for… for fuckin’ ever.”

“You’re drunk,” Edward says again, as much to himself as to Sol. “And bleeding, and… Let’s just get you cleaned up, alright? We can talk about this in the morning.”

Sol stares at him a moment longer, eyes still wide, before his face hardens again and he steps back, holding the beer can back up to his eye.

“I can deal with it,” he says tersely. “I’ve had worse.” Edward doesn’t know if he’s still talking about the black eye or not.

“Sure,” says Edward, taking a step back as well. “Yeah. I’ll just… leave you to it then.”

“Cheers,” says Sol, and then he’s stepping away, out of Edward’s orbit, and down the hall towards the bathroom.

#cw physical abuse #(happens offscreen) #ANYWAYS THEN THEY WAKE UP IN THE MORNING AND NED MAKES SOL BREAKFAST AND THEY KISS ON THE MOUTH #SORRY I DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE SOMETHING ANYWHERE BETWEEN STRAIGHT UP ANGST AND STRAIGHT UP FLUFF #solittle #trantors #thank u for the prompt kiss kiss i adore u #my writing #little #tozer

[solomon-tozer]

Terrortober 2022, 04: History

"I'm not that sort of man!"

Tommy freezes, his body going completely rigid as Solomon's hand stops short of the caress he was about to give. The Sergeant's face goes lax, and then he looks down, his hand falling from where it ghosted against Tommy's cheek. "Sorry, I thought…"

Tommy knows what Solomon thought. It makes his face flush, his body already aflame from that gesture. He looks away too, aware that he's shaking, because he doesn't know why he lied. He is that sort of man. He just doesn't wish to be, because nothing good ever lies that way. He learnt that the hard way, with only good luck keeping him from the lash, or worse.

Solomon clears his through. "I, um…"

And Tommy nods, ready to accept whatever excuse Solomon gives. He's ready to push the whole thing aside, to pretend it never happened.

Only, he knows he can't forget. No matter how hard he tries, the moment is lodged within him now.

"I should…" Solomon tries again.

As Solomon turns and slips away, Tommy wishes he was a braver man. He wishes he had the courage to stand up and confess to who he is, to reach out to Solomon and call him back.

But he doesn't.

He cowers instead, and hides the thing he wants most from the world, and from himself.

It would have ended badly anyway.

Prompt list / All my Terrortober 2022 fills.

#the terror amc #solomon tozer #thomas armitage #tommy armitage #armitozer #terrortober2022 #armitage x tozer #my writing #i mean what else do you think about at nearly 4 in the morning?

[suddenly-frankenstein]

i lost the post where someone said that Tozer deserved a shirtless scene, but YEAH TRUE.

so here is some marine's morning routine

#getting dressed for the one more horrific day in the arctic yaaay #and ofc including the corset #because ahhh tight uniform #ah my poor sweet puppy #i had a terrible day so I drew this as a treat #the terror #the terror amc #the terror fanart #solomon tozer

[hiswordsarekisses]

This came up in my memories and I had to share again. This made me cry the first time and this morning it made me cry again!!!

“Many years ago, in a Moscow theater, matinee idol, Alexander Rostovzev, was converted while playing the role of Jesus in a sacrilegious play entitled “Christ in a Tuxedo.”

I He was supposed to read two verses from the Sermon on the Mount, remove his gown, and cry out, "Give me my tuxedo and top hat!"

But as he read the words, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted," he began to tremble.

Instead of following the script, he kept reading from Matthew 5, ignoring the coughs, calls, and foot-stamping of his fellow actors.

Finally, recalling a verse he had learned in his childhood in a Russian Orthodox church, he cried, "Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom!" (Luke 23:42).

Before the curtain could be lowered, Rostovzev had trusted Jesus Christ as his personal Savior.

~ Shared by David Arnold

“The Bible is not only a book which was once spoken, but a book which is ‘now’ speaking” (A.W. Tozer).

“For the Word of God is living and powerful.” Hebrews 4:12

God’s Word is alive - it is not a book - it is the person of Jesus Christ. “In the beginning was The Word ~ And The Word was with God ~ And The Word Was God.” (John chapter one)

And when He returns, “His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems, and he has a name written that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is THE WORD OF GOD.” Revelation‬ ‭19‬:‭12‬-‭13‬

[derry-rain]

creation: wrapped

so, a quick roundup of some of my favourite highlights of the last year of creating fandom content. In 2023, I published many gifsets and edits (I am not counting) and published over twice the number of words as I wrote in 2021, according to ao3.

favourite fic written: it's a smallish one, but it's glut thy sorrow on a morning rose, which is an eoin-centric paddy/eoin, in an au in which eoin lives, but is sent home due to how severe his injuries are. it mostly centres around his anger and vulnerability during the healing process.

fic exchanges/fests entered: i joined in several challenges this year:

Heavy Artillery Rarepair Exchange (1 fic, Runner/Leckie - The Pacific)

Heavy Artillery Holiday Exchange (2 fics, Liebgott/Tipper, Liebgott/Grant/Heffron - Band of Brothers)

Hickeyshipping (1 fic, Tozer/Hickey - The Terror)

Yuletide (2 fics, Jade & Donna - From, Collins/Peter - Dunkirk)

SAS Kink Heroes (and Kinky Christmas heroes) (9 fics, all starring Mike Sadler)

Year of the OTP (8 completed fics, 1 WIP, out of a goal of 12 fics - pretty happy with this. All Paddy/Eoin - SAS Rogue Heroes)

Of the above, my favourites were HA's everything's the same as it was, a Runner/Leckie zombie apocalypse au fic and come now and i'll show you what i keep, a Paddy/Eoin merfolk/fairytale au.

favourite gifset/edit posted: it's a tossup between this eugene sledge (the pacific) gifset and this one of mat cauthon being the best girldad (wheel of time) . i'm also very fond of this most times, a ghost is a wish eoin/paddy gifset.

other highlights: I commissioned the wonderful @elyksina to create a piece of art of Dalish!Eoin McGonigal, based on my SAS: RH Dragon age AU. It's perfect and I could not have hoped for more.

Also have to mention the hot roy summer creations of which I was a very small part. Roy Cobb squad, rise up. I love you very much.

THANK YOU everyone who left a like, a kudos, comment or reply on any of these. every single note was warmly appreciated. I hope that you enjoyed these works as much as I enjoyed creating all of them.

Let's see what happens in 2024!

#sas rogue heroes #band of brothers #the pacific #derry_rain: 2023 wrapped

[saints-who-never-existed]

Rereading The Terror

Chapter Twenty-Five: Crozier

This is it, lads - Carnivale! D: And boy is there a lot to dig into!

Crozier and Fitzjames retire to Erebus for much of the evening - neither of them want much part in the festivities so they sit drinking whisky in silence. Cannae blame them really.

There's a delightful mention of Mr Murray, the sailmaker - he's described as being old with a wizened visage, and is dressed up like a mortician. I had a half-remembered hunch about him so looked it up to check - homeboy was 43 years old in real life! Harsh, Simmons, very harsh!

When it's time for the feast - consisting of the polar bear Fairholme shot - it's Jopson and Hoar, Little and Le Vesconte that come to fetch the Captains. There's something quite sweet about that that I can't quite put my finger on - very formal somehow.

Once they're back out on the ice, there's good news and bad news. Bad news is that the men have clearly figured out how to brew some bootleg booze and are all absolutely plastered. The good news - as far as I'm concerned - is that it's Le Vesconte along with the other officers and stewards - who are dishing out food to the men. It's just a lovely little role reversal that makes me smile.

Also interesting is the frequent mention of Le Vesconte's gold tooth. I imagine it's a reference to the remains that were found that were thought for years to be his but were later identified as Goodsir's by the presence of a specific metallic dental filling?

Once they're all digging in to the food, it's quite an eerie free-for-all: "It was as if more than a hundred predators were revelling in their kill."

Then, it's time for a song and a show! The song is 'Rule Britannia' and the show involves Hickey on Manson's shoulders, both of them trussed up in a costume made from the hides of the slaughtered polar bears. With them is a man dressed up ghoulishly as a decapitated Sir John which I really shouldn't find as funny as I do. I've written "Objectively hilarious" next to this passage.

As the singing swells to a climax and Sir John's grandfather clock strikes midnight, shit then hits the fan with Tuunbaq's eerie arrival: "Crozier saw that there was a second large white shape in the room. It stood on its hind legs. It was farther back in the darkness than Manson and Hickey's bear-hide-white glow. And it was much larger. And taller." "There came a second roar...The sound ground so low into the bass regions, grew so reverberating, and emerged so ferocious that it made the captain of HMS Terror want to piss his pants right there in front of his men."

From then on, all is chaos. We have a description of a man in a harlequin costume (one of the doctors as, just like in the show, they're all in matching clown/harlequin costumes) running past Crozier in flames. We all get Fitzjames described as "...the only figure not costumed and not running" which jumped out at me for some reason.

Crozier and Fitzjames make it out of the now-burning Carnivale tent - Crozier with an unconscious George Chambers on his shoulder - only to find the Marines firing indiscriminately into the fleeing crowds, trying to take down Tuunbaq. "CEASE FIRE! GODDAMN YOUR EYES, SERGEANT TOZER I'LL BREAK YOU TO A PRIVATE FOR THIS AND HAVE YOU HANGED IF YOU DON'T CEASE THAT FUCKING FIRE IMMEDIATELY!"

Eventually, the other officers start rallying round and you know I'm looking out for my special boy when that happens: "Lieutenant Little came up through the smoke and steam...saluted clumsily, his right arm was burned, and reported for duty. With Little at his side, Crozier found it easier to gain control of the men..."

So there we are, all that's left is to tally up the awful toll in the morning...

#The Terror #The Terror AMC #Observations #Random Observations #Meta #Rereading The Terror #Terror Spoilers #Francis Crozier #James Fitzjames #Thomas Jopson #Edmund Hoar #Edward Little #Henry Le Vesconte #Dundy #Cornelius Hickey #Magnus Manson #Tuunbaq #again i apologies for tagging everyone

[oughtnots]

10 first lines, tagged by @lieutenant-catboy-little !! <3

Rules: ‘share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.’

Next Job, gen, T, beef + montrose chat about what comes next

"They've left Emerich in his workroom for now."

2. only forward, always forward, Crozier/Fitzjames, T, fitzjames is dead and the survivors cannibalize him

"It was not the first time that Francis had wished for a doctor for James."

3. Blood on the Concrete, Hickey/Tozer, E, hickey runs a fight club and convinces them to rob a museum

"Sol doesn’t see the blow coming until it hits him."

4. Without Desperation, Collins/Goodsir, T, sci fi--goodsir is the scientist brought to an alien planet, collins is his diver tour guide

"The rush of cool air as Harry Goodsir fits the helmet over his head makes him wince."

5. Hitting Aces, Harry/Kim, T, kim's pinball backstory becomes relevant to the current investigation

"REVACHOL. ’46.

KIM KITSURAGI –

It is morning in the Greater Revachol Industrial Harbor."

6. An Abundance of Good Blood, Aziraphale/Crowley, T, adam goes missing after aziraphale and crowley share an ill-discussed kiss

"Anthony J. Crowley did not, as a rule, receive post."

7. what we have left, Pilkington/Tozer, M, tozer can see the mutineers' souls

"He thinks it's his imagination at first."

8. As Bullet Speaks to Gun, Crozier/Fitzjames + Jopson/Little, T, hickey is court-martialed after the expedition is rescued

"The room was dark and smelled of dried lavender."

9. Bring Me Your Garden, Neil/Eva, T, neil's illness worsens while he and eva try to navigate whatever lies between them

"It gets worse."

10. Drama: Lamp and Light, gen, T, a sonnet from the perspective of drama

"The disco lights drip silver-curtained rain; The man is old and broken on the stage."

i think a lot of people have already been tagged for this but i'll tag @explorersaremadeofhope, @hereforthenuances, and @blue-bismuth :)

#the adventure zone steeplechase #the terror #disco elysium #good omens #to the moon #my writing #not gonna tag everything associated with these snippets but hehe pls check out if any of these interest you

[bilgewater01]

2,3, 10, 22 for violence

2. I think every character would top or bottom given enough incentive; I make my faves bottom more often because I find that hotter but I do acknowledge they'd do either; however I don't think Des Voeux would bottom easily in his natural state. He doesn't trust anyone, he would not turn his back on you + he has more interesting things in mind + he wants to be called "Mr. Des Voeux" even in the relaxed social structure of mutiny camp, this is not a man who likes to be denigrated in any perceivable capacity (note: Des Voeux in my Devious is not the show version of the character therefore doesn't count, as for him propositioning Hickey in that one piss fic, well idk it fit there, really it isn't very rigid with me)

3. Worst take is something common among casual watchers and probably/hopefully not the fandom people; namely that Hickey is 100% evil and that Gibson was just his manipulated victim, something like "even the other gay guy was sick of Hickey's shit" when talking about the breakup scene

10. Either "Gibson overlooked the red flags on Hickey" (as he himself wasn't the worst boyfriend Hickey could ask for with that whole accusing him of rape at the slightest sign of adversity), or, something I am somewhat guilty of participating in, that Armitage wants to be a sex slave of the Marines and not a Marine himself. He didn't kill two of the unarmed natives himself only to be perceived as a "uuoohh pls daddy Tozer hold me in your strong arms and breed my boypussy until pregnant🥺🥺" (I do it more in the spirit of "by God I love the smell of Marine balls in the morning" which is funny and gives him some agency. I generally do not like men without agency, even or especially if they take it up the ass, it's 2yaoi4me you know)

22. The Terror, a novel by Dan Simmons from 2007 particularly the parts where Hickey and Manson ♥️

but serious answer regarding the show would be Hodgson's fucking Blood Meridian monologue

#the terror #important questions

[boilyerheid]

Please, might I have another snippet of 1. stitch and bitch please?

"Can I help you, Sergeant?"

"I was hoping to take Mr Armitage up on a very kind offer he made." Tozer is ruddy-faced, as usual, and his cheeks dimple as he smiles. "I mentioned being terrible with a needle and thread, and he offered to mend a torn shirt for me. If it's not convenient I can-" "No, no that's fine Sergeant Tozer," Tommy pipes up, sending half his mending pile to the floor in his haste to stand up. Billy and Jopson exchange a flat look at the display, but graciously don't comment. "I'll get it back to you in the morning, if you have watch tonight."

"Much obliged, I'll owe you a favour."

"Not at all, I'm happy to lend a hand."

Thomas and Gibson manage to contain their ire until the cabin door closes behind the Sergeant.

"Terrible!"

"Disgusting."

"Shush!

#the terror fic #my fic #stitch and bitch

[tomjopson]

Edward wondered if kids still hung out here. He hadn’t been gone that long, but then a lot could happen in four years. He kicked a discarded beer can and watched it ricochet off a stack of tires. Morosely, he followed it, gave it another kick. This time he misjudged his power, and the can went flying into the tall grass beside the barn.

He sighed. Trudging through the grass, he felt burrs snagging on his trousers, and morning dew clung to the ground, tinging his socks with damp. He nudged his shoe along the weeds, looking for the can. He didn’t find it. But he did find an odd clump of clay, centered in a patch of clover like a misshapen flower.

It was an ear, he realized. A human ear—half-decomposed and abandoned like trash by the barn.

Edward Little/Solomon Tozer • 22k words • Rated E • {Read on ao3}

#solittle #litzer #edward little #solomon tozer #the terror fanfic #the terror fanfiction #lozer #my writing

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

Nothing Is Above God

by Aiden Wilson Tozer

"I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." — Isaiah 41:10

The problem of why God created the universe still troubles thinking men; but if we cannot know why, we can at least know that He did not bring His worlds into being to meet some unfulfilled need in Himself, as a man might build a house to shelter him against the winter cold or plant a field of corn to provide him with necessary food. The necessary is wholly foreign to God. Since He is the Being supreme over all, it follows that God cannot be elevated. Nothing is above Him, nothing beyond Him. Any motion in His direction is elevation for the creature; away from Him, descent. He holds His position out of Himself and by leave of none. As no one can promote Him, so no one can degrade Him. It is written that He upholds all things by the word of His power. How can He be raised or supported by the things He upholds? Were all human beings suddenly to become blind, still the sun would shine by day and the stars by night, for these owe nothing to the millions who benefit from their light. So, were every man on earth to become atheist, it would not affect God in any way. He is what He is in Himself without regard to any other. To believe in Him adds nothing to His perfections; to doubt Him takes nothing away.

#Aiden Wilson Tozer #devotional #Nothing Is Above God #Isaiah 41:10 #Tozer in the Morning #February 2 #2023

[manicpixiedreamjop]

for prompt: “we’re both always doing laundry in the building laundry room at like 3am" from @bloomrebounds

pairing: solomon tozer/edward little

cw: frequent references to ned’s mental health, including self-isolation, lack of self care and panic attacks

***

Ned did not know why his depression decided that the middle of the night on a Monday was the time he was finally able to get off his couch and get started on the chores he’d been putting off for weeks, but if it meant he would finally have clean shirts to wear instead of the same hoodie he’d had on for the last three days straight, he was just going to let it happen. Which is what brought him to his apartment building’s laundry room at just past three in the morning, only to discover all of the machines already in use, and a large man with dirty blonde hair sitting on top of one of the dryers, a small, battered paperback in one hand.

“Hi,” said Ned, still clutching his laundry basket in front of him, not sure what else to do. The fact that he wouldn’t have to see anyone else had been part of what had pushed him to leave the apartment in the first place, still dressed in his stained hoodie and old, threadbare pyjama pants.

The man jumped slightly, looking up from his book and pulling out one earbud. He was handsome, Ned realised, because of course he had to be, when Ned was dressed like this and couldn’t remember off the top of his head the last time he had showered.

“Hey,” said the man. “Sorry, didn’t think anyone would be down here this time of night or I would’ve left one open.”

“That’s okay.” Ned’s voice was rough from the last few days of disuse, and he cleared his throat quietly. “I’ll just. Uh. Come back.”

“These should be done in-” He twisted where he was sitting to look at the time on the washing machine, and Ned could see the flexing of the muscles in his side under his very tight white t-shirt. “Five minutes. If you want to wait.”

Ned didn’t want to wait, didn’t want to let himself be perceived by this stupidly handsome man at the height of his depression pit, probably smelling of sweat and coffee and desperation. He also knew that if he went back up to his apartment now, he would not be coming down again that night. He dropped his clothes hamper on the floor and leaned back against one of the washing machines. He hadn’t even bothered bringing his phone downstairs with him, so he picked a spot on the wall to stare at, and tried to brace himself for five minutes of awkward silence.

The man did not, however, as Ned had expected, go back to reading his book. Instead, he studied Ned for a few long moments, then dogeared his page and put it down beside him. “I’m Sol.”

“Ned.”

“You lived here long?”

Ned shoved his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t sure he was feeling up for small talk, but he also didn’t want to be a dick when this guy was clearly trying to be nice. “A year, about,” he said. “It’s near my job and it’s cheap, so.” He didn’t mention that it had been several months since he’d actually been to his job in person, managing to convince them to let him do his work from home when socialising had started being Too Much earlier that year.

“What do you do?”

“It’s not very interesting.”

“Try me.”

“I’m a data analyst for a tech company. Look at their inputs and outputs, figure out what they need to improve on.”

Sol let out a bark of a laugh, slightly jarring in the small, quiet space. “You weren’t kidding, that sounds boring as shit.”

Ned was surprised to find himself smiling back, just a little. He wasn’t sure he remembered the last time he smiled. It felt strange on his face. “It’s kind of relaxing,” he said, lifting himself up onto the dryer beside Sol, putting them at eye level. Sol had nice eyes, he found himself thinking, and he didn’t even try to push the thought away. “I like pattern recognition and that sort of thing. Feels like solving a puzzle or something.” He expected Sol to scoff at him like most people did when he said things like that, but instead he just nodded.

“I can see that. I mean, not for me, I’m shit at that sort of thing, but - whatever works.”

“What about you?” asked Ned, and he was pleased to realise he wasn’t even asking out of some sort of sense of obligation, he genuinely wanted to know. “What do you do, I mean.”

“Security,” said Sol. “For a fancy law firm downtown. Usually don’t mind it too much but they’ve got me on graveyard shift the next couple months while my coworker’s on paternity leave and it’s fucked my whole schedule.”

“Hence the laundry at 3am.”

“At least it’s quiet in here this late. Well, usually.”

Ned had just opened his mouth to apologise for intruding when he saw the twinkle in Sol’s eye and the smile at the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll try to be quieter,” he said, shooting Sol a grin of his own.

They smiled at each other for a beat longer than Ned expected, and something, long dormant, seemed to awake and twist slightly in his chest.

Before Ned could say anything else, the washing machine next to Sol turned off with a little chime and Sol slid off the dryer and to his feet.

“What’s your excuse then?”

“My excuse?” Ned followed Sol down off the row of dryers and walked back to his clothes hamper, ready to start filling the washers as soon as Sol was done transferring his clothes over.

“For doing laundry at 3am. From what you said about your job it sounds like one of those 9 to 5 types.”

“I’ve been working remote for a while. Health issues.”

“Nothing too bad I hope?”

Ned paused, trying to figure out a way to explain his situation without telling a complete stranger ‘my brain’s fucked and I was having panic attacks about getting out of bed every morning.’ “Chronic but not life threatening,” he eventually settled on.

Sol nodded, taking a step back from the washers. “Good. All yours.”

“Thanks,” said Ned, stepping around Sol to get to the washers. They were close enough in the cramped space that their shoulders brushed as Ned moved past him, and, unless Ned was imagining things, Sol pressed gently into the contact for a split second before he stepped away.

“Same time next week then?” asked Sol, pressing the start button on the dryer.

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” said Ned with a confidence he wasn’t sure he completely felt. “Might have something else next Monday at 3.”

Sol snorted, picking up his book and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. “See you ‘round, Ned,” he said, and then he was shoving open the door back into the hallway, and Ned was alone again.

For the first time in a long time, he wished he wasn’t. For the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to seeing someone again.

He put his quarters in the machine, picked up his laundry hamper, and walked back to the flat, and, once he got inside, turned on the shower.

#solittle #solomon tozer #edward little #amc the terror #my writing #little #tozer #prompt fill

[solomon-tozer]

A Soldier for a Sailor (Armitage/Tozer)

For my 2022 @theterrorbingo prompt 'Protectiveness'

-

I tried. God knows, I tried.

Each day since I came to know you, Each minute I had to spend, I spent in solemn service Of you.

In the morning when you awoke I’d watched all through the night. My newfound mission in this life Was to keep you safe— To see you hale and hearty To know you’d be all right. My newfound mission in this world Was to guard your life.

If you knew or not, I didn’t care. It changed nothing for me. You were the light, the life, my sun. And I? Just a Marine.

A soldier for a sailor, Red amongst a sea Of men far more deserving— You, not me.

All those years I’d spent in service, I’d never truly served, My hands had merely moved, My lungs had merely breathed. But then each breath held meaning, And my heart, it learned to fear Because there was something I couldn’t bear to lose Someone I held dear.

Whatever happened, whatever came You were supposed to live. I wanted it so badly I’d have given all I had to give.

I tried.

I tried to save you, To give you every chance.

I wanted it so badly.

But you followed me instead.

#the terror amc #solomon tozer #thomas armitage #armitozer #theterrorbingo #my writing #terror bingo 2022 #can't remember if i tagged last year's stuff #will reblog with the ao3 link

[yhwhrulz]

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional for April 23

Tozer in the Morning The Unchanging Need of the Human Heart

We of the twentieth century have exactly the same basic needs as the people of the first century. We feel the weight of sin and mortality just as they did. We long for peace and life eternal exactly as they did. We are tortured by fears, stunned by losses, grieved by betrayals, hurt by enmities, made heartsick by failures, scared by threatening death, chased by the devil and frightened cold by the thought of coming judgment. They sat in their simple houses and worried by candlelight. We speed along in sleek, shiny cars and do our worrying between stoplights. But the end result is the same for everybody: slow progress backward toward old age and the grave with no place to hide and no friend to help.

God called His Son's name Jesus because He knew the human race needed deliverance from sin; and He sent the angels to announce "Peace on earth" because He knew the world needed deliverance from the gnawing tooth of inward fear. And nothing basic has changed. We today need Jesus, and we need Him for the same reasons they needed Him 2,000 years ago. The more things change, the more they remain the same.

Tozer in the Evening MAN'S EMPTY PROMISES

We have listened throughout our lifetime to the continuing promises of peace and progress made by the educators and the legislators and the scientists, but so far they have failed to make good on any of them. Perhaps it is an ironic thought that fallen men, though they cannot fulfill their promises, are always able to make good on their threats! Well, true peace is a gift of God and today it is found only in the minds of innocent children and in the hearts of trustful Christian believers. Only Jesus could say: "My peace I give unto you. Let not your heart be troubled; neither let it be afraid!" Surely the "great" of this world have underestimated the wisdom of the Christian, after all. When the Day of The Lord comes, he may stand like Abraham above the burning plain and watch the smoke rising from the cities that forgot God. The Christian will steal a quick look at Calvary and know that this judgment is past!

Copyright Statement This material is considered in the public domain.

[hiswordsarekisses]

The following quote by A. W. Tozer really stuck out to me as I was scrolling this morning because we have been reading through Romans again here as a family. Definitely slowly and prayerfully study Romans!!! Many churches over the years have cherry picked - not only verses - but 1/2 verses!!! Context always matters!!! “The truth is that while Christ dwells in the believer’s new nature, He has strong competition from the believer’s old nature. The warfare between the old and the new goes on continually in most believers. This is accepted as inevitable, but the New Testament does not so teach. A prayerful study of Romans 6 to 8 points the way to victory. If Christ is allowed complete sway He will live in us as He lived in Galilee.”

- A. W. Tozer