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10yrsyart · 3 years

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Signs of Jesus return

i felt lead recently to compile some of the signs and current events pointing to Jesus’ soon return. i don’t know who this is meant for, but i know it’s for someone. so i hope that whoever reads this finds it helpful and informative 💙 (this is not complete either, as there are too many to list)

The Fig Tree Generation:

Jesus often used a fig tree to describe the country of Israel in His prophecies. “Now learn a lesson from the fig tree. When its branches bud and its leaves begin to sprout, you know that summer is near. In the same way, when you see all these things, you can know His return is near, right at the door. I tell you the truth, this generation will not pass from the scene until all these things take place.” (Matthew 24:32-34)

In Psalm 90, Moses describes a generation being “70-80 years,' and Isaiah 66:7-8 says, “Before the birth pains even begin, Jerusalem gives birth to a son. Who has ever seen anything as strange as this? Who ever heard of such a thing? Has a nation ever been born in a single day? Has a country ever come forth in a mere moment?” This did happen. In 1948, Israel became a nation in a day, after almost 2000 years. Israel needed to be a nation to fulfill its part in the Tribulation, so the countdown couldn't start without them. The imagery of birth pains is used in the Bible to describe the troubles that the world will go through before the Day of the Lord, meaning Israel must become a nation before the Lord's return.

1948+80 year generation= 2028. But since Jesus said “everything” (Rapture and Tribulation) would happen before the fig tree generation passed away (turns 81), we have to take away 7 years from the 2028 final count. That leads us to 2021-May 2022 approximately (right before they turn 74).

The Jewish Temple:

The book of Daniel speaks of the time during the 7 year Tribulation, when the Antichrist will come and take over Israel. “The ruler will make a treaty with the people for a period of one set of seven, but after half this time, he will put an end to the (daily) sacrifices and offerings. And as a climax to all his terrible deeds, he will set up a sacrilegious object that causes desecration, until the fate decreed for this defiler is finally poured out on him.” (Daniel 9:27) “The day is coming when you will see what Daniel the prophet spoke about- the sacrilegious object that causes desecration standing in the Holy Place.” (Matthew 24:15)

The second Jewish Temple was destroyed in 70 A.D., and hasn't been rebuilt since. The Holy Place is a specific spot inside the Temple, and the daily sacrifices and offerings that go along with the Jewish Law are only performed with the Temple in use.

As of 2021, the preparations for the Third Temple are nearly complete. The plans are laid out, the priests have been trained in the rules and rituals, the materials are all gathered. One source even says that theoretically the Temple could be built in a matter of 3-6 months. All they are waiting for is the go ahead. Those of the Jewish faith don't believe that Jesus is their Messiah, and many expect that the building of Third Temple will coincide with their own messiah making his appearance.. It's noteworthy that they're so close to building it after all this time.

The Abraham Accords:

In September 2020 the Abraham Accords were officially signed, setting up a peace deal with multiple Middle Eastern countries, including the United States. Since then other countries have added themselves to the peace treaty. There hasn't been a deal like this in the Middle East in a long time, much less centered around Israel. When the Antichrist comes to power, he strengthens a treaty or proposal of peace that already exists, and so the Abraham Accords have come at a significant time.

“Nation will go to war against nation, and kingdom (ethnicity) against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, and there will be famines and plagues in many lands, and there will be terrifying things and great miraculous signs from heaven.” (Luke 10-11)

Wars:

So many of the great wars in history have been within the last hundred years. War is not an uncommon thing for humanity, but the impact is much greater now, as is the frequency of wars on the horizon. Currently, many of the World Powers are already declaring war and/or making preparations. China threatening war against Taiwan and it's allies, Iran desiring to destroy the US and wipe Israel out as a nation, and many more threatened. It's not a question of if but of when.

Earthquakes:

The frequency of earthquakes has drastically gone up over the last couple years, not only in numbers but also in magnitude power. As I'm writing this (8/22/2021), we've had over twelve 7.0+ earthquakes in the last two weeks. That's not a normal level, not even taking into account all the earthquakes of lower magnitudes. Volcanic activity is rising as well. Many volcanoes that were previously thought to be dormant are awakening, some even erupting. Iceland's volcano Fagradalsfjall was thought to be dormant for 6000 years, until it erupted last March. (“Dutchsinse” on Youtube is a good source for seismic activity.)

Famines:

Because of the change in weather patterns, with flooding and wildfires and droughts, many of the worlds “bread baskets” (where a large portion of their food is grown) are not producing enough food. A shortage is already coming on America, not to mention all the other nations that are in the midst of one. Greece, Turkey, Australia, Italy, California and Oregon (US) are all burning at record rates. And mass flooding is impacting just as much area, like Indonesia, China, New York (US), Haiti, Germany, and more.

Plagues/ Diseases:

Everyone is aware of the effect of the C Virus on the world, and now a new variant is appearing. Diseases like Ebola and the Bubonic Plague are re-emerging. Animals are experiencing these effects as well. Massive animal die offs are happening all over the world, from mysterious diseases and unknown causes. Various plagues have swarmed countries, for instance the mass attacks of locusts that have eaten through parts of Africa, and the infestation of billions of mice in Australia.

Signs in the Heavens:

“And I will cause wonders in the heavens and on the earth- blood and fire and columns of smoke. The sun will become dark, and the moon will turn blood red before that great and terrible day of the Lord arrives.” (Joel 2:30-31)

As I mentioned earlier, volcanoes all over the world are waking up and erupting at an alarming rate. The super volcano centered in Yellowstone Wyoming (US) has been showing worrying signs of stirring as well.

In 2014, two Blood Moons landed on two of God's Feasts, which carry significance. Then in 2015 there was a Solar Eclipse, followed by another two Blood Moons that landed on the same Feasts as the previous year. In 2017, the Great American Solar Eclipse drew a line across the US. In 2020, the “Bethlehem Star” made an appearance as Jupiter and Saturn almost merged in the sky. Though it's not the same cosmic event as the true “Star” that heralded Christ's birth, its rarity and symbolism is important. This August 2021 we just had a rare Blue Moon.

The Revelation 12 Sign:

“Then I witnessed in heaven an event of great significance. I saw a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon beneath her feet, and a crown of twelve stars on her head. She was pregnant, and she cried out because of her labor pains and the agony of giving birth.” (Revelation 12:1-2)

In September 2017, this sign appeared in the sky for the first time ever. The constellation Virgo represents the woman, and the nine stars of Leo plus 3 wandering stars lined up as her crown. The moon was near her feet in the constellation and the sun was at her shoulder shining on her “clothes.” Then Jupiter entered the middle of the constellation (her stomach) and stayed there for nine months and left. Jupiter is generally considered to represent a ruler, and the child in Revelation is believed to represent the Church (Jesus' Body). The rest of Revelation 12: 3-5 speaks of the child being snatched away from the Dragon (the devil), which represents the Rapture of the Church before the Tribulation. So it's incredibly significant that the first part of this prophecy was fulfilled in the stars. (There's also a type of 4 year grace period before judgment in scripture (Luke 13:6-9), so 2017+ 4 years warning = 2021).

The Vaxx System:

“He required everyone- small and great, rich and poor, free and slave- to be given a mark on the right hand or on the forehead. And no one could buy or sell anything without that mark, which was either the name of the beast or the number representing the name.” (Revelation 13:16-17)

This is not about whether or not to take the vaxx, it's about the mentality around it. The animosity in the world media keeps growing towards those who don't wish to take it. The results don't add up to how single minded they are becoming, and it's easily paving the way for regulations to be carried out by brute force. There are stricter and stricter limitations to those who don't feel safe taking it, like being unable to shop at a grocery story or go to work... In the future, the world won't blink twice about a universal Mark of much greater magnitude and greater consequences. The consequences of refusing won't just mean an inability to buy or sell, but death.

Alien Disclosure:

As of 2021, the US government has released the information they have on Unidentified Flying Objects, confirming the possibility of aliens. The first main stream event involving the alien conspiracy was the Roswell Incident of 1947, about a year before Israel became a nation. The reason why this is so significant is because 1) the Fig Tree prophecy was about to start when Israel revived, beginning the End Times countdown and 2) 2 Thessalonians 2:11 says the people left after the Rapture will believe a “Great Delusion.” Even a couple years ago, the thought of aliens coming down and taking people away would have been laughed at, but not now. Satan is the Prince of the Air; he uses his demons and spirits to appear as other things, so as to lead people away from the Truth of God. He knew when Israel became a nation the clock was ticking for the need of a believable lie. Now people could easily believe that all the Christians that disappeared were “beamed up” by aliens. (We don't know specifically what the Delusion will be yet, but this is certainly a possibility.)

Dreams and Visions:

“ 'In the Last Days,' God says, 'I will pour out my Spirit upon all people. Your sons and daughters will prophecy. Your young men will see visions, and your old men will dream dreams. In those days I will pour out My Spirit even on my servants- men and women alike- and they will prophecy.' “ (Acts 2:17-18)

Around the end of 2019 to the beginning of 2020, End Times dreams skyrocketed. The sheer amount that can be found on Youtube is astounding and it continues to grow. Dreams about the Rapture, dreams from Jesus, dreams about disasters that are coming; people from all over the world are sounding the alarm. And these aren't internet celebrities or self proclaimed prophets; these are every day normal people, some of which weren't even Christian to begin with. The amount of non-Believers that have had Jesus appear to them to save them continues to grow as well.

I personally felt an awakening through the Holy Spirit sometime around early 2020, that Jesus was returning soon. And the more I've studied Bible prophecies and current events I know that it's fast approaching. Although it's important to test the spirits of dreams to see if it's really from God or not, the message of the majority is clear. Time is short.

(This was just a small selection of the MANY signs that God continues to send as warnings. The frequency and intensity is rising like it never has before. A more in depth list can be found, along with Bible references and news sources, at https://www.ithasbeenwritten.com/ )

To You:

For those of you who are un-Believers, I am not writing this to be a fear monger. When evidence and reports come in that there's a bomb in a building, the people inside need to know about it. Even if it ends up being fake, the risk isn't worth it. This isn't just one fanatic Christian with a dream trying to convince everyone the end is near, this is the whole world. No matter what you believe about Bible prophecies, these current events are real things that are happening, and show no signs of slowing down. The good news is that Jesus died to save you from all this. He died to clear our sin debt and give us the hope of Heaven, a place we could never get to on our own. And His signs are saying He's coming soon to rescue everyone who accepted His sacrifice and entered His family.

“If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” (Romans 10:9)

For those Believers that don't think Jesus is returning soon, please pray about it and study His word. He was angry at the Pharisees of the generation of His first coming, because He said, “You know how to interpret the weather signs in the sky, but you don't know the how to interpret the signs of the times!” (Matthew 16:3).

Matthew 24's “no one knows the day/hour” is not saying that we won't know the season in which He will return. If it were, He wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of giving so many signs of the closeness of the event. “So you, too, must keep watch! For you don't know what day your Lord is coming.” (Matthew 24:42) “But you aren't in the dark about these things (signs), dear brothers and sisters, and you won't be surprised when the Day of the Lord comes like a thief.” (1 Thessalonians 5:4) Are you watching? Let's do our best to be a light as much as possible before it's too late.

“So when all these things begin to happen, stand and look up, for your salvation draws near!” (Luke 21:28)

#Christianity #Jesus Christ #faithstuff #bible verse #revelation #salvation #The Rapture #end times #the tribulation

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faerielleart · 3 years

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Hi sorry you don’t have to answer this! But I’ve seen you speak about LGBTQ+ and from my understanding you are a part? So I want to ask I have been dealing with my self identity and struggles and I want to ask if you can share experiences and how you find out since I think I am not straight to be sure… Thank you I hope this ask doesn’t put you in uncomfortable place.

yo anon hello!! 👋 no worries, i’m not in any way uncomfortable and i’m always happy to help if i can

first of all, keep in mind that not everyone’s experiences are the same and what i went through in my journey to exploring my sexual identity might be completely different from what someone else went through, hence take what i say with a huge grain of salt and know that everyone’s experiences are perfectly valid

alright hhhhh well my story’s pretty funny actually LMAO i think i already answered this some other time iirc? but yeah i started “having doubts” in middle school. i wasn’t interested in boys, i was genuinely meh in front of any dude my female friends found cute, i never thought about dating and i never thought about marriage. some people (my family) called me a “late bloomer”, my classmates secretly made fun of me for being “gay”.

thing is, i was obviously gay but i didnt know at the time- however everyone else did 💀💀💀 i was out there saying shit like “i wish men didn’t exist” “i wish the planet was only populated by women” and stuff like that on the DAILY and each time my classmates looked at me like 👁👄👁 and it was like the class’ inside joke that i wasn’t a part of. i was bullying victim unfortunately and i was the class punching bag 🚶‍♀️

one day, i was at my (at the time) best friend’s birthday party and all the girls in class were invited with some boys to her house. i remember we were playing truth or dare, my turn came and i chose truth; there was this girl who hated me with all her heart for no reason whatsoever and loved humiliating me while pretending to be my friend and i was too much of a pushover to say anything to her, anyway bitch started laughing and yelled in front of everyone “IS IT TRUE THAT YOU’RE A LESBIAN?????” and i was ,,,,, pretty much shocked. firstly i thought that was a dirty word, i had never known lesbians irl and i only knew gay men and i kinda associated lesbians with something taboo? i think i was maybe 11 or 12 years old but it was all peer influence, i was lucky to have parents who were never homophobic and never taught me to hate? so this “hesitation” towards this word was something that was instilled into me by my schoolmates who treated it as if it was something shameful and to make fun of. anyway, i told that girl to mind her own business and i was silent and sulking for the rest of the party.

several days later i was at the mall with my parents who asked me what was wrong bc i had been behaving weirdly since the party and i remember telling them exactly “we were playing a game and [girl’s name] asked me if i were…” and i didn’t finish the sentence. “if you were?” and i still was hesitant to answer but then i said “gay” in a really small voice and i remember getting super flustered and feeling so embarrassed?? and my parents just looked at each other and i think that was the start of everything lol in the next years through middle and high school i was so confused about myself i was refusing to label myself bc i thought i was “figuring myself out” and for a long while i thought i was bisexual. i used to tell my ex best friend about these doubts that i had and she was always a bit weird about it 🧍‍♀️

she randomly asked me shit like “do you wanna have sex with a guy? if you had a boyfriend would you have sex with him? would you suck his dick?” and shit like that and i always was so embarrassed about answering those questions? because my answer was always a straight up no, but i thought something was wrong with me if i didnt wanna do stuff with men. despite that, i still didnt truly question my attraction to men, i just went “yeah i mean all girls secretly think that men are ugly right that’s normal” for SO MANY YEARS LOL i thought everyone had the same experience??? i reached the point where i was 100% sure of my attraction to girls and i was forcing myself to be attracted to men as well bc “that’s the right thing for me”. i forced myself to be enthusiastic when my friends talked about boyfriends, i forced myself to pretend to have a crush on celebrities and THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING BUT LIKE ONE TIME I WAS WATCHING THIS TV SHOW WITH MY MOM AND THERE WAS I THINK ORLANDO BLOOM AS A GUEST AND I GOT THE IDEA OF PRETENDING TO BE HAPPY TO SEE HIM BC I THOUGHT HE WAS “THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MAN EVER” AND I SPENT LIKE HALF AN HOUR INSISTENTLY TELLING MY MOM “LOOK AT HIM HE IS SO ATTRACTIVE OH I AM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM” TO SHOW MY MOM I LIKED MEN 💀💀💀💀💀💀 I DID THAT A LOT IT’S LIKE I WANTED VALIDATION FOR IT i want to bury myself in sand thinking of this

anyway after an extremely failed coming out to my grandma whom i saw for the first time ever expressing disgust at the thought of me potentially being attracted to women i was terrified to do it again and i refused to tell any other member of my family. i still haven’t truly come out and i don’t think i ever will tbh even if i know my parents would love me and accept me regardless i still think of my grandma’s reaction and i start legit crying whenever i think of that

march 2020 comes and i finally accept that i am a lesbian. how did that happen? i was watching harry potter and i went “holy shit i wanna fuck hermione” literally that’s it nothing else. nothing else. that was that. that’s how i knew 100% i was a lesbian and i was tired of pretending i wasn’t. don’t ask me why, don’t ask me how but that’s literally what happened.

and that’s when everything started making sense tbh? like i just felt as if i had a huge huge burden lifted off myself for the first time ever? i said it out loud and i felt happy? the more i said it, the happier i felt? through the years i had always known deep down i didn’t like men, i was just pretending i was, comp-het was hitting me SO HARD and then finally i stopped letting it influence me.

what helped me was asking myself extremely specific questions after that to be sure, in the same fashion my ex bestie used to be weird about it when i “came out” to her. i imagined myself in really specific situations with fantasy boyfriends, i asked myself what i liked about men and the answer was always “nothing”, i asked myself “could i be capable of falling in love with a man?” and the way i was setting standards so high and ridiculous for any human for my “dream man” was the obviously negative answer to that question, i asked myself more intimate questions like “if it came down to it would you ever actually sleep with a man?” and the answer was always a solid no. basically putting myself in theoretical situations is what helped me finally understand. i had done that through the years and my answers were the same since the beginning, but i still refused to admit the truth to myself, until one day i just stopped.

and that’s my journey LOL it’s kinda pathetic tbh,,,,,, i could’ve been much happier with myself if i had just admitted it to myself since the beginning, bc deep down i always knew. would’ve spared me years of not feeling okay with myself, would’ve spared me years of surrounding myself with the wrong people who caused me terrible pain every time i heard them say lesbians are disgusting. but anyway, what’s done is done and i’m just happy now i get to be free and accept myself for who i am, unapologetically. on the internet. bc in real life i’m still traumatized 🚶‍♀️

i think questions are the easiest place to start. imagine yourself in situations, ask yourself how would you act and why. figure yourself out bit by bit and take your time to understand what you like. don’t ever let yourself feel pressured by anyone, don’t even let yourself feel pressured by the need of labels. don’t let anyone tell you your experiences are wrong or not valid, don’t let anyone tell you there’s a set way to explore your identity, don’t force yourself to do anything you’re not comfortable doing. if you need to vent, my dms are always open. be happy exploring your identity, there is no right way to do it. and remember that you’re always valid. 💜

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pamphletstoinspire · 3 years

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Hope against Hope

The three theological virtues – Faith, Hope, and Charity – are what distinguish Christianity from natural “virtues.” They are not easy to practice, or even to understand. But as the great Charles Péguy has God say in his long poem The Portal of the Mystery of Hope, “Faith doesn’t surprise me. . . .I am so resplendent in my creation. . . .Charity does not surprise me. . . .These poor creatures are so miserable that unless they had a heart of stone, how could they not have love for each other.”

Most people, however, even forget that Hope is a theological virtue, which is strange because, as Péguy’s God rightly says:But Hope. . .that is something that surprises me. Even me. . . . That these poor children see how things are going and believe that tomorrow things will go better. . . That is surprising and it’s by far the greatest marvel of our grace. And I’m surprised by it myself. And my grace must indeed be an incredible force.

Péguy (b. 1873) was almost an exact contemporary of G.K. Chesterton’s (b. 1874), and in several respects was the French Chesterton. GKC would no doubt have enjoyed this God with a sense of humor about His special graces in Creation. Strictly speaking, of course, God cannot be “surprised.” Yet there’s a great truth here about the eternally “surprising” nature of Hope – real Hope – as we begin 2021, with all the hopes and fears, true and false, that arise before the virginal space of another year.

True Hope, the belief that “tomorrow things will go better,” can only be about our final human destiny, because in the short run things always look and are pretty awful. What most people regard as hope means a series of deceptive stopping places. They start a new year hoping to lose weight, find a new job or mate, and these are goods, just – even when we keep the resolutions – not lasting or ultimately satisfying.

There are, of course, evil hopes. Some of the young women who celebrated Argentina’s approval of abortion in the closing days of 2020 – with the barest of whispers about the value of all life from the Argentinian pope – talked of their “hope” that women would now be able to pursue their “life plans” and be “happy.” They should talk to their sisters in America who, as our colleague and friend Mary Eberstadt has documented, are unhappier than ever about their lives and their relations with men.

Good policies can help us, but politics, in general, can only do so much. Take this week. We have been warned for over 2500 years “put not your trust in princes in mortal men who cannot save.” (Ps. 146) And the psalmist had not seen a modern democratic politician. Yet we’re all agitated, to a degree rightly, about the Senate runoffs in Georgia tomorrow and the Electoral College results the following day. A Biden presidency – especially combined with a Democrat-controlled Senate – would mean more slaughter of the innocents in the womb, more damage to the family and to sanity by the “woke,” more threats to religious liberty under our first anti-Catholic Catholic president.

Many people were hoping for a Trump re-election, which at least would have had the virtue of holding off such developments for a few more years. But that seems highly unlikely now despite last-minute efforts. And as Catholics we should be absolutely frank with ourselves: If the deluge did not come this year, it would have soon enough.

Let’s recognize, in its depths, a situation that Catholics, almost alone, are capable of appreciating: We are in a period of cultural decline, made all the more painful in that – unlike in the past – it has nothing to do with material or military failure. It has a great deal to do with the ways that unprecedented wealth has made us believe that we, in our superior wisdom, can simply dispense with God, nature, our great spiritual and intellectual traditions, and the wise and holy figures of the past, largely it sometimes seems because our gadgets are more numerous and work better than theirs.

This realization has a further corollary: there’s no quick fix in politics, religion, economics, etc. There are temporary victories, and we should fight for them. But if there is a fix, it’s going to be a slow one, mostly in education, a clawing back of the future in the same way that for the past century or so, a false progressivism and even outright Marxism has insinuated itself into our cultural bloodstream. It’s hard to have the patience for the “long march through institutions” that the radicals have had. But we see that it worked for them. And can for us.

And that has to begin within the Church itself, which means actually learning what the Church teaches as opposed to what some say the Church teaches. For instance, it’s not been enlightening, to say the least, to see how some Catholics have been tearing each other apart over differing approaches to things like the anti-COVID vaccines, which is neither charitable nor hopeful.

The Vatican and our bishops have damaged their credibility in recent years on several fronts. But they along with absolutely rock-solid pro-life thinkers such as Fr. Tadeusz Pacholczyk of the National Catholic Bioethics Center have made clear how longstanding Church teaching, including the relative sections of the Catechism (1868ff.), distinguishes between vaccines that are morally acceptable (Pfizer and Moderna) and others that are not. Fr. Pacholczyk even provides (click here) both a clear summary of the teaching and a comprehensive chart listing the various vaccines in development, their moral status, and the reasons for moral judgments. You may choose, personally, to take a more rigorous stand. But you may not say it’s the only Catholic judgment.

We’re entering a time when we’re all going to have to become both simpler and deeper in our commitment to the Truth, and more sophisticated in figuring out how to live out that Truth amid multiple and complex challenges. But no one ever said that our Hope, however “surprising,” lies in what’s easy or obvious.

By: Robert Royal

#hope against hope

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zipstick-writes · 4 years

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Inktober 2020 Day 4 - Radio

Virgil loved singing, and he had the most amazing voice. Now, if you asked, Roman would deny knowing anything about this, because he knew Virgil wouldn’t be too happy about it. But sometimes, when he thought nobody was around to hear him, Virgil would sing quietly to himself. And sometimes Roman would sneak over to his bedroom door and listen to him sing. And if you were to ask Roman, he’d say that it was the most beautiful sound in all the world. He and Virgil had been living together in the same apartment for a few months when Roman first heard him sing. Roman had been pretty sure he’d developed a crush on Virgil for a while at that point, but as he walked down the hallway and past Virgil’s room and towards his own carrying a basket of clean laundry, he heard it. Virgil had been in there for a while doing some homework, and was singing along to Thnks fr th Mmrs. Roman froze outside the doorway and listened. It wasn’t the sort or music Roman would typically listen to, but Roman was transfixed. His voice was incredible. He stood there listening until the song finished, at which point he remembered he was supposed to be putting his laundry back in his closet. It was then that he realised that he’d fallen completely head-over-heels for Virgil. Wow, I really am in love with him. - Roman was in his room, doing an English assignment. It was to analyse a passage from some old-timey outdated “masterpiece” novel for techniques that the author definitely didn’t intentionally put there. He was pretty sure he’d forget everything about the book as soon as he’d finished it. Anyway, the point is, he hated it, and he had his digital radio playing on low volume in the background to make the homework slightly less unendurable. A song Roman hadn’t been paying attention to finished, and the radio host, Robert Something-or-other-Roman-couldn’t remember began speaking. “Next up, by request of an anonymous listener, a cover of Thnks Fr Th Mmrs performed by rising star Chemical Imbalance,” That piqued Roman’s interest. He put down his pen and turned up the radio. I'm gonna make you bend and break (It sent you to me without wait), Huh. That voice sounded familiar. Roman wasn’t quite sure how he recognised it. Say a prayer, but let the good times roll, In case God doesn't show (Let the good times roll, let the good times roll), Now, hold on a second. “Is that.. Virge?” He listened for a while longer, becoming more and more sure that it was Virgil’s voice on the radio. One night and one more time Thanks for the memories even though they weren't so great He tastes like you, only sweeter One night, yeah, and one more time Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories See, he tastes like you, only sweeter, oh “Holy.. Okay, it really is him.” Roman muttered. He paused and took a deep breath. “I’ve really been living with a famous musician this whole time and had no idea. I’ve been crusing on a famous musician and had no idea” Roman got up, homework long forgotten, and crept down the corridor towards Virgil’s room. He hovered by the door for a few moments, wondering what on earth he was supposed to say. Hey, I heard you singing on the radio, also I listen to you sing sometimes, also I’m literally in love with you because of your voice? He’d sound like an idiot. You know what, screw it. I’ll just improvise. That’ll work. Right? Taking a deep breath, he knocked rapidly on the door. “Come in.” Came Virgil’s voice from inside. Roman stepped in the doorway, hoping Virgil couldn’t tell how nervous he was. “You alright, Princey?” Shit. “You don’t normally knock.” “Yeah, I uhm.. I guess I-I don’t. Do that?” “Roman, what’s up?” And, dammit, that look of concern on Virgil’s face was making him more nervous. He took a deep breath. Might as well get it out all at once before he lost his nerve. “Are you Chemical Imbalance?” He blurted out. Virgil’s eyes widened slightly. “How did you know that?” “Well, I uhm.. I was listening to the radio and a song came on and it was your voice and- “ “Wait a minute,” Virgil said, cutting him off. “How do you even know what my singing voice sounds like?” “I… maybe sneak to your door to listen to you sing? Sometimes?” Roman said. He could feel his face heating up and hoped it wasn’t visible.” “Oh.” Virgil mumbled, and for a second Roman was worried he was mad. “That’s uh, fine I guess.” Roman let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “And uh, there’s one more thing.” “Yeah?” “I think I might be in love with you?” Virgil was silent for a moment. And then he opened his mouth. “Are you kidding? I’ve been in love with you for two years and you only decide you like me when you find out I’m a famous singer? Selfish asshole!” In love with him for two years? “No, Virge, I swear that’s not what I- “ “No! Shut up! You know how long I spent wondering if maybe, maybe, there’s a chance you’d liked me back? How paranoid I was about you rejecting me? And you have the fucking audacity to only tell me you feel the same after you find out about my career? After you learn there are people who admire me? After I put off telling you for two years?” And shit, tears were building in Virgil’s eyes. He’d fucked up big time. “Virgil, I promise it’s not like that!” “Get out of my room!” And just like that he fled back to his room and cried.

Roman knocked on the door. “Virgil, could you open the door? Please?” “No! You’re a selfish prick!” “Please, will you just give me a chance to explain?” It felt just above a whisper, and when Virgil was silent on the other side he thought he hadn’t heard him. “Please?” There was a sigh, and then Virgil responded, “Fine.” Slowly, Roman opened the door, feeling very suddenly lost for words. “Well? Out with it.” Virgil snapped. “I know it seems like I only like you because you’re famous, but that’s not true, I promise!” He paused, searching for something else to say. “The truth is, I uh, I’ve liked you for.. A while.” “How long is a while?” Virgil questioned, seeming slightly skeptical. “Well, since a bit after we moved in together, I guess. But I really only realised when I… started listening to you singing.. Which I think was in.. March of that year?” He paused again. “After that I was pretty much head-over-heels for you. The whole you-being-a-famous-rockstar think kind of just added to it.” He said, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. Virgil’s eyes widened. “God, Roman, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you liked me, and I was mad ‘cause I thought- “ “It’s not your fault, Virge. It’s mine for being a dumbass and blurting it out without thinking it.” He said, chuckling. “Yeah, you were kind of a dumbass.” “Yeah, sorry. I’ll just… go.” Roman turned and headed for the door, but stopped when he felt Virgil tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. He spun back around and stared at Virgil confusedly. He was surprised to see that his face was flushed bright red. Virgil leaned forward slightly, and muttered, “What-“ “Just shut up, Princey.” Virgil said, smirking. He pulled Roman closer. Roman froze and his eyes widened as their lips met. This was not how he expected this to go. Slowly, Roman relaxed and brought his arms up around Virgil. Virgil’s lips were soft, and Roman found himself leaning into the kiss as his eyes closed. Virgil was a Really Good Kisser. Just as suddenly as he had pulled them both together, Virgil was pulling away, a shy smile on his lips. Even after it had happened, Roman didn’t quite believe that after a full two years of pining, he was actually kissing Virgil. “Woah.” He said breathlessly. Roman stood with his arms around Virgil for a few moments, before he pulled him into a tight hug. “Virge, I love you so much.” Virgil smiled at roman and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “I love you too, Princey.”

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #inktober #inktober 2020 #fanfiction #my fics

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instruth · 4 years

Text

DAILY EXODUS

Daily self imprisonment

By thy inner government

Two camps in thy temple

The proud and the humble

Inheritance by way of greed

Self interest a genetic breed

Support the rulers to feed thy need

Ignore the poor and let them bleed

Fiery tongues speaking a twisted truth

Even the rooster crows from another roof

Pluck out thine eyes in the dark kingdom

Selling thy soul to trade thy own freedom

Get out! Move out before it is too late

These are the signs to thy deathly fate

The raven leaves its feather at thy front door

Forked tongues digging thy grave any day

before

The mud of slavery stiffens thy knees

And the wine of desire drowns thy pleas

Running the tracks of the burning sands

Hot wind pursues to vaporize the begotten

plans

Listen to the shouts of all the offsprings

oppressed

Fatherless ambition breeding only sons well

distressed

Where crowns are gained by tricky feeds

What sincere men have earned by deeds

Gather thy families, march the long road

Away from the treachery of a kingly load

Cross the split river of sins to a freedom land

Fear not the threats of charms by a heavy hand

For what thou hast created thou must be much

humble yet

By the same power destroy all that thou did

wittingly beget

Climb the mountain to judgment and laws

Till the blind can see all the devilish flaws

Lo and behold ! A bush on fire!

Yet it does not burn, only transpires

Upon holy anointed ground, remove thy earthly

shoes

Penitence reigns a land promised to only the

rightful issues

©Johnny J P Lee

01 July 2020

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kusunogatari · 4 years

Text

[ Naruto OC x Canon Ship Week 2020 - In Love and War ] [ @naruto-ocxcanon-ship-week || @uchiha-madara ] [ Suigin Ryū, Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna, Terumi Mei, Senju Tobirama ] [ Verse: To Rule Them All ] [ Trope: Arranged Marriage ]

Standing along the edge of her chamber balcony, a lone woman rests marless hands along its railing. From the lofty perch, she gazes down into the valley that twists and winds between snow-capped peaks. Moonlight paints the scene in soft greys and shadows.

She should be sleeping...but she can’t begin to find rest.

A soft sigh plumes in the chilled night air. Like the fog that often blankets her homeland, it drifts slowly, unhurriedly out from the cliffside castle. Carved from the very mountain face, it watches over the vale unblinkingly, waterfalls cascading out past its windows to join the river below.

The rumbling of the water is usually enough to lull her to sleep. But tonight, too much weighs on her mind.

Far, far too much.

Her eyes don’t see what lies before them, flickering in thought in their sockets. The eddying news and arising conflicts won’t stop flowing, keeping her conscious.

What should she do…?

It’s now more than ever she wishes for her mother’s guidance. Someone older, wiser, to help steer her in the right direction.

But she’s alone...and with war on the horizon, her kingdom surrounded on all sides.

Since the first recordings of history, they’ve remained detached from the other nations and their squabbles. With their world’s holy sites all contained within her borders, that influence of faith has allowed them to stand alone, untouched, for centuries. A careful balance maintained between the other lands to avoid overstepping and claiming too much influence over a place that - in truth - belongs to them all.

But now…? War once again threatens to rise. And the balance is crumbling. Rather than seeking to protect her lands, the others now seek to conquer it.

And without an army, a neutral place of peace...Ryū fears they will fall like wheat to a scythe. Unless the gods themselves intervene...they have no defense beyond the walls of the mountains. The chosen people of the valley do not fight. They’ve never had to.

To spill blood on the sacred land was to invite the wrath of the gods.

But that fear seems to be waning in the other nations. And their lack of restraint may be the end of the valley people chosen by the pantheon.

And she fears there is nothing she can do but pray.

Fingers curl against the railing, nails trying to dig into the stone and threatening to snap. Her people look to her for guidance: both a priestess and a queen. But now…? She feels utterly unprepared to lead them. Protect them. Without the perilous balance outside their borders...how can she keep war at bay?

Her head bows, heavy with every life depending on her. There has to be something she can do...something to stave off their slaughter.

...wait…

Like a beetle boring into wood, a thought worms its way into her mind. One that goes against centuries of tradition. At first, she flinches from it by reflex. And yet it lingers, tempting and luring.

...what if she were to tame one of the warhounds? Offer it what it wants...and in return, turn its teeth against the others? Marry a warlord...and position his army at their gates?

Never has her line tied itself to another. Never have they broken the careful neutrality maintained to ensure equality for the others in the eyes of the gods. If she does this...if she shows a bias to one land over the others...will it be enough to save them?

Or will it bring only ruin?

...what choice does she have?

To give another influence over her lands...is that the price she’s willing to pay to protect it? Are shackles preferable to gravestones?

In silence she weighs her odds...before turning to retreat inside.

She has letters to pen.

"My king!”

Gloved palms braced against the table that bears his maps, Madara turns at the voice of a messenger. “This best be important.”

“A message, my liege.”

“...from?”

“The priestess of the mountain valley.”

Immediately, dark brows furrow. What could she want with him? An expectant hand raises to accept the parchment, unfurling it and proceeding to read.

The further he goes, the more his face slackens.

Around him, everyone stills, awaiting his reaction.

“...prepare my horse.”

“Sire…?”

“I have a meeting to attend. Izuna!”

Stepping up beside his brother, the younger man replies, “Shall I hold the fort?”

“Yes. Await my orders. Until then...consider us at ease. But be ready at a moment’s notice.”

“Of course.” He eyes his brother thoughtfully. “...that must have been some letter.”

As he straps on his armor, a mischievous smirk curls Madara’s lips. “I may have just been handed victory on a silver platter.”

Izuna’s brows lift. “...that simply?”

“Oh, there will be obstacles. But none I cannot handle. Especially if it means avoiding this war altogether.”

“You? Eager to avoid bloodshed?”

“...as much as I enjoy the fire in my veins at a proper battle...I’m not so easily consumed as not to realize it costs the lives of my men. Besides...victory is what tastes sweetest. And one I can take single handedly will be ambrosia itself.”

“...then I wish you luck.”

“Luck will have nothing to do with it, brother. It’s all a matter of will.”

Watching Madara leave the chamber, Izuna folds his arms with a sigh. Curiosity burns at the letter’s contents, but he knows he’ll be made aware in due time. A meeting, and skipping a war…?

...that alone gives him some idea.

“...spread the word that our armies are to remain on alert. Until the king returns or sends word, we remain here at the ready.”

“Aye!”

Astride his Friesian, Madara wastes no time, digging heels to the beast’s sides and heading inland. Nor does he bother himself with escorts. They’ll only slow him down, and he wants to be prompt. The sooner he arrives, the sooner he’ll settle this matter himself.

So, the queen’s decided to take things into her own hands, has she? Allay war by holding a council that will serve in its stead. Let the kings, queens, and generals do the fighting themselves for once rather than hide behind their armies. Let one emerge a victor, claim the spoils...and put to rest this silly balancing act.

And Madara knows, in a contest of will and limits, none will stand in his way. The only thorn he can foresee is that bastard Tobirama now that Hashirama is gone. But he’ll handle that too when he must.

To lay claim to the holy lands of their continent will be to grip every heart that follows the gods. In his goals to make all equal and loyal to one ideal...such a position is paramount. No more wars. No more squabbling. He’ll make sure the lines drawn between men will finally fade into one unity.

No matter how far he must go.

Like any gods-fearing man, he’s made the pilgrimage himself more than once. The way is already familiar. But there’s still a moment taken upon cresting the lip of the valley to appreciate its majesty.

...it really is a beautiful place. No wonder the gods call it their cradle. In all his travels, he’s never seen a place more fitting for them to consider setting foot upon the soil. The thought of bringing war here is indeed distasteful.

No wonder she’s willing to bow her head to protect it.

Easily marked an outsider, he ignores the stares as he makes his way up to the castle. He understands and respects their suspicions. Besides, it won’t be long before he can put to rest their fears and earn their admiration. If he’s to be the first king of this reclusive land, he’ll do it the right way.

Presenting his letter, he allows his mount to be stabled as he’s led inside. The palace carved from the white stone of the cliff face has always impressed him, looking birthed from the mountain itself. With the forested lip crowning it and the waterfalls that curtain its face, it looks much like a fairy queen’s domain.

Speaking of which...he’s never individually spoken to the priestess queen of the valley. She who both rules and shepherds. Her sermons have always been impassioned, and he won’t deny her ethereal beauty: the ghostly-white countenance that’s said to be a mark of the gods’ blessings to her lineage. But until now, he’s had no reason to approach her directly. Almost like an idol herself, kept behind a wall no outsider could pass.

...but that’s all set to change.

To his annoyance, several of the other monarchs have already arrived. Though it can’t be helped, given proximities. The land of his people lies mostly along a coast compared to the valley at the heart of their landmass, pushed to the edges over time. They all give him the same sour, upturned-nose glances, clearly displeased at the presence of the warlord.

His reputation is no secret: willing to carve through anything to get what he wants. Spilling blood like others pour wine. Claimed to be a monster masquerading as human, more likely to kill a man than embrace him.

While his bloodlust is indeed true, born from a line used to fending for itself...he still remembers the talks of old with another princeling. Another soul that, in truth, wished for peace. While their methods were always different...Madara did - and still does - desire a stop to be brought to wars.

He’s just more willing to be...absolute.

But this might be just the break he’s looking for. A new angle to bring all men into line. Surely between the lady of faith and the lord of power, there will be little standing in their way of finally putting the marches of wars to rest.

...but first, he’ll have to take care of the competition.

“And here I thought this was to be a peace council. Yet here prowls the dog of war.”

Dark eyes sliding to their corners, Madara aloofly considers one of the other land’s queens: a woman of flaming hair and even more flaming temper. “Dog or not, I was beckoned just as you were. Any other judgments, I’m sure, will be made by our hostess. Until then, I’ve little need or want of yours.”

Arms tucked into voluminous sleeves, Mei considers him with equal parts disdain and intrigue. “And are the rest of us supposed to accept your presence without hesitation, pretending you’ve not wounded us in the past?”

“Any I’ve wounded have done so to me in turn. Perhaps not as successfully,” he adds with a smirk, earning a glower, “but don’t paint yourselves as guiltless martyrs. Any who spill blood are equally guilty. Lost life is lost life, no matter what banner or slogan you hide behind. I protect my people as you do yours.”

“And yet none will deny your barbarity. Not even you.”

“I’ll not bother to call a rose by any other name in an attempt to hide its thorns. But my brutality is necessary. Nothing more or less. It is only with teeth I can bite back choking fingers.”

“They’d not choke if you didn’t bite first.”

Immediately, a flare of temper seems to climb Madara’s spine like a flame along a trail of tinder. But he doesn’t reveal his hatred, only turning to Tobirama with a mock air of surprise. “I think by now there’s little point in which came first...only that it continues. And must end.”

“A continuation in which you are just as guilty,” the Senju retorts without pause.

“Well, perhaps a second opinion is just what we need, then. Let the true neutral decide what will become of us warmongering heathens. Don’t act as if you’ve never wielded a blade out of spite, Tobirama. In the eyes of the gods, we are all guilty.”

“And yet, some more than others. I look forward to them striking you down at last.”

“...we’ll see about that.”

“Your majesties…?”

At the timid cut-in, the regals turn to an attendant who wastes no time in bowing under their gazes. “The last of the expected parties have arrived, and...her holiness will see you now. Please, follow me.”

After no small number of distrustful glances, the gathered royals follow in the young woman’s wake. While the display of weakness irks Madara slightly, he also can’t blame her. Surely there’s been no assembly like this in their land before, nor for such a purpose. Being exposed to so much power at once must be quite the shock for any below their rank. Anyone in her shoes would be hard-pressed not to panic.

But in this land, all who serve their lady are absolute. Fear is nothing in the face of their devotion. While the priestess queen may serve the gods, it’s the people who in turn serve her. Long have rumors circulated of the valley people being so blindly loyal as to throw themselves on pikes for their monarch. She is the vessel through which the gods speak. To allow her to come to harm is to commit the ultimate blasphemy.

Already, he thinks of how this will be useful.

A short walk later, the lot of them are led into an expansive sitting room. “Her ladyship wishes for you all to remain here, and to attend an audience with her individually. Her impressions are to be unbiased by the others and their opinions, so...while any of you are within her chamber, the rest are kindly asked to wait patiently here.”

“Is this simply to be a contest of our most tactical liars, then?” Tobirama dares to ask, teeth gritting. “Are we not allowed to vet one another?”

“Within each of you is inherent bias depending on friends or foes,” the little servant in turn refutes, and Madara can’t help a lift of his brow as she stares the king down. “Her ladyship, in line with our lands, wishes to remain neutral. The gods will guide her. Mortal opinions can never be pure.”

The Senju’s lip lifts in a snarl, but before he can refute, Mei steps in. “Please tell your ladyship we will be patient and obliging. We all wish to avoid war. If this is what it takes, so be it. The rest of us won’t let temper lead us astray.”

For that, she’s given a venomous look...but other leaders murmur in agreement, and Tobirama begrudgingly concedes.

Wordlessly, the woman nods, and turns into another room.

“...best make yourselves comfortable,” Mei then sniffs, finding herself a perch as others do the same.

Always pleased to see the Senju put in his place, Madara offers a hint of an appreciative smirk in her direction, lounging in a plush chair tucked in a corner. An elbow rests on its arm, chin braced along his knuckles.

A few minutes later, one of the monarchs is asked inside.

And so it begins.

“Have you need of anything, my lady?”

Pouring herself a goblet of water, Ryū gives the attendant a glance, and then a smile. “For now, no - thank you, dear. Twice over for bringing the others here. I trust they were obliging…?”

The tick of hesitation is telling. “M...mostly, my lady.”

“Tell me no more. We’ll see how their conduct fares. You may go.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Left to her own devices for a moment, the priestess draws a long, calming breath. Time to see if her plan will bear fruit...and not the sort to poison the starving masses. Another handmaid tends to the door, calling in each of the other monarchs to stand their trials.

Her interviews are simple, yet extensive. All manner of aspects of their rule - their platoons, their policies, their positions and their people - are peered into with the highest scrutiny. And all throughout, Ryū places her trust in a sense that has never failed her. One she remains convinced comes from the insight of the gods.

Never has she been lied to and the falsehood gone unnoticed.

It’s a feeling that follows her always. And with varying intensity, it reveals to her just who is willing to be truthful...and who thinks it wise to lie to the mouthpiece of the gods. None of the remarks are challenged until each conversation is over, the priestess calmly laying out her accusations. All rebuke and fluster and give flashes of temper, but she cannot be convinced otherwise.

As each monarch reemerges with varying degrees of disgruntlement, the rest clearly become wary.

And she saves the best for last.

“King Madara, of the Uchiha.”

Realizing his position and having done his best to remain patient, the Uchiha takes to his feet and makes his way toward the side chamber. He’d suspected he’d be reserved for the tail end given his reputation, but it was worth seeing Tobirama come out with a clenched jaw and scarlet neck of temper.

Well worth it.

Approaching the door, he gives yet another mousey serf a glance. Does she employ no one but nervous handmaids? Putting the thought aside (it’s hardly of any use), he steps inside and gives the room a curious once-over.

It’s a simple study, lined with shelves of scrolls and tomes. At the rear is a stained glass window, out which he can see one of the falls. Behind a desk of solid wood sits his hostess, and another moment is taken to observe her.

Her dress, unlike that worn for her sermons, is simple: plain white fabric with light hints of gold embroidery. Prim and modest, she looks far more the role of a priestess than a queen. Likely intentional.

“Would you care for some water?”

“...I would,” he replies shortly, accepting a goblet she pours him. Once quenched, he offers, “I must admit, it’s been too long since I’ve visited the valley. I hope that bears no weight on my qualifications?”

“Your lands are far, and your people often troubled. I cannot fault you for remaining where you are needed most by those that follow you. Though they may reside here, the gods can hear us no matter how distant our call.”

“Hm…” He considers her thoughtfully. “...may I also be frank in my surprise at this...decision. But in the same breath, I’ll put forth I think it wise.”

A hint of surprise lifts her brows. “...do you?”

“Relying on the wills of others for your safety puts your fate in their hands. While the other nations were willing, for a time, to be considerate of you...it seems the time has come where they put their own interests over the gods.”

“...do you do the same?”

“I concern myself foremost with my people. Whatever I can do for them to better their lives, I will do. No questions asked. I am their sword, and their shield. For them I will weather any storm, and I will cut down any threat.” His chin declines. “...I know this land’s distaste for violence. But I won’t attempt to hide what I have done. The gods may choose to smite me for it, but I will not stand idle and allow my people to come to harm rather than take any measure to protect them. Until I come to my judgment day, it is my people I answer to. Not gods.”

To his honest surprise, her lips curl into a coy smile. “...I commend you for your honesty and your dedication,” she murmurs. “Many have attempted to conceal their actions, seeking to tilt my favor. But there’s no hiding truth from the gods.” A knee lifts to crest the other, the long skirt of her gown rustling quietly. “Do you recognize the weight of the lives you take to protect another?”

“Of course. Any other man breathes and dreams as those under my banner do. Any life lost - no matter what side of a line - is one that should be mourned. If I could snap my fingers and draw all under one crest so that such lines could not be crossed, no reason given to kill what could in fact be a brother because of one loyalty over another, then I would do so. But until then...I protect what is entrusted to me. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And if those within the valley were to be taken under that banner?”

“Then they would receive every ounce of my dedication as those born beneath it. An alliance is a promise. And I keep my promises. So long as I drew breath, it would be drawn for them all.”

A long moment passes of her silent consideration before continuing with her interview. Further and further she needles him, digging into the psychology and methodology of his leadership. And at each inquiry, he answers honestly, bearing all and refusing to feel shame for it.

Not once does she feel him lie.

By now, the day has begun to slip into evening, and a small respite is taken to light the sconces in the study. “We’re nearly finished. A supper is being prepared for you all.”

“How long are we expected to remain? I have a standing army to return to.”

“A few days at best, if my expectations are met. While my impressions are mostly made and there’s likely little else to glean...I am not one to rush important decisions. But so too do I respect the time and obligations of you and the others. I beg your patience.”

“And you’ll have it. I’m simply curious. My brother maintains the ranks in my stead, and I trust his judgment.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“...I once had four,” Madara eventually replies after a small pause. “But life is brutal, and war the paramount. Now...we are the two left of five. He is my right hand. I rely on him heavily.”

“I see…” Ryū lets her chin rest in a hand. “I’m without siblings. My father is unknown to me, my mother long dead. While I consider every person within my lands to be my family, my flock...I realize it is not the same. I envy you, in a way.”

“I’m sure he would be delighted to have a sister.”

The rather obvious nudge snaps her eyes to him, expression unreadable. “...I have one last question for you.”

“And I will do my best to answer.”

Silvers stare at him, unblinking. “...my intentions, I’m sure, are plain. To resist destruction by a flood of new war, I intend to ally myself with one of the other nations. That alliance will grant me an army, and hopefully give pause to the others before they consider bringing battles here. However...I know that, beyond my lands, the webs of friends and foes are complicated, and ever-changing. Depending on my choice, prior brothers in arms may be forced to become enemies. So my question is this: have you any reason - any at all - to possibly falter should this position become yours? Would you ever hesitate in raising your swords and your shields to defend this valley, and the people in it?”

“No.”

The blunt reply earns a blink, especially as no hint of a lie bleeds through his tone. “...just that easily?”

“Just that easily.” Shifting his posture, Madara leans inward, expression completely unwavering. “My people have been betrayed more times than I could count. We’ve not held an alliance since I was a boy...perhaps even longer. For generations we have been marked as nothing more than war-hungry dogs. And while we will never back down from a fight...it is not what we want. We fight for one reason only: necessity. Survival. The world has turned its back on us, declared us untrustworthy and forever drunk on blood. So perhaps that is something you should consider, priestess.”

Watching him warily, Ryū nonetheless holds her ground as he approaches, shrinking the gap between them to a breath.

“...is this what you want to anchor in your harbor? A man called a monster, a killer? Someone willing to go to any length, no matter what ire it will earn him?”

“...that’s precisely what I want.”

...it’s his turn to be taken aback.

She stares up at him, just as calm. “...I am all out of options, Madara,” she murmurs, dropping all other pretense. “My people face annihilation. We are sheep circled on all sides by wolves. Which is why I don’t want just a wolf. I want someone with nothing to lose. Because that is exactly what I have become. I want someone who, when the inevitable comes, will fight with no holds barred. Someone the other wolves fear. Because that fear will be what keeps us safe until the swords swing.”

Eyes flickering over her face, he lingers a long moment before conceding back to his seat. “...I see. Surely you already knew, then, what you were really looking for. These interviews weren’t to find who you wanted...but to gauge the standings of what will be left.”

She gives a grave nod. “To know who will be possible allies, who can be swayed...and who will see my declaration as one of war.”

“I’ve already a fair idea of those,” he assures her.

“I did not...but now I do. Which leaves only one last formality.” Reclining in her seat, Ryū crosses a knee, hands folding atop her lap. “...will you accept my proposal of an arranged marriage, Madara of the Uchiha? And with it, accept the position of army general, and the duty of protecting my people, my lands, and the cradle of the gods?”

“Is ‘king’ not one of my titles?”

“You are the king of your people. I am the queen of mine. I am unsure how either will view the other. And we have never had a king before.” Her lips flicker into a smile. “...both sides will surely need to do their own...adjusting. You will have every right and privilege that comes with a marriage to my line. Just, I’m sure, as I will inherit those of one to yours.”

...she’s avoiding the answer directly, he muses, considering her carefully. She doesn’t want foreign influence over her people...I can understand. Especially given the vast cultural differences. Surely such details will be determinable later. For now...best we settle the basics. I can whittle at the rest as we go. Leaning back with a sigh, he replies, “...then yes. I accept.”

“...good. We can discuss the rest tomorrow. For now...we have a dinner to attend.”

“Nothing works up an appetite like politics.”

All righty, day three! And I'm officially out of buffered posts :'D BUT I'm determined to do more, so hopefully I'll have some time between now and...tomorrow to get something else done. But for now, THIS post! So this is for Phoenix, the mun behind @uchiha-madara, and is our ship between her Madara and my OC Ryū. We've had a verse with her in the founders era and a concept...somewhat similar to this? But this setting is a bit different, and with far different context, so...hopefully it was still interesting to read xD I haven't gotten to write this verse much yet so a lot of it was experimental. But overall I really like how it turned out, and hopefully Phoenix does too! I love the dynamic between these two...there's almost always drama and tension and hhhhh I live for it xD Anyway, I've got irl things to handle now, so I best skedaddle. But I'll do my best to be back tomorrow with another piece for another ship! Until then, thanks for reading!

#narutoocxcanonshipweek #noxcsw #uchihamadara #suigin ryū #uchiha madara #uchiha izuna #terumi mei #senju tobirama #to rule them all [ au ]#arranged marriage

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arcticdementor · 4 years

Link

In July of 1976, I attended the Democratic National Convention in New York City, at which Jimmy Carter was nominated. For me, it was a dream come true. I was at a national political convention holding a valid press credential, taking pictures, going to briefings, wandering around on the convention floor, bumping into Dan Rather, and watching democratic process of choosing the next leader of the free world. It was heaven. I had aspired to do this since I was 7. Really.

…

And so it came to pass that I was in NY in 1976 with press credentials, which got me on the floor of the convention, standing with the Georgia delegation at the precise moment that Jimmy Carter became the Democratic nominee. It was a transformative celebration. People in that delegation were crying and hugging, and the man standing next to me exclaimed as Carter was nominated, "Oh, my God, the Civil War is finally over!" In his mind, in this moment, in this place, there was reconciliation, and Georgia was once again part of the Union. It affirmed my childhood belief that there was magic in these spectacles.

I have thought about that moment a great deal in recent days as I watch what appears to be the unfolding of a new civil war in America. Alas, that joyful Democrat's proclamation in 1976 was premature. The Civil War is not over. Jumping in and out of the TV broadcast of what passes for a political convention, it seems there are forces in this country that do not want the Civil War to be over. Reconciliation and cohesion are not on their minds. There is no magic in this endeavor — only outrage and resentment.

This is not a Democratic Convention, but rather a convention of persons calling themselves Democrats. There is no Democratic Party because there is nothing democratic about it in the most important sense of the word. It is the antithesis of democracy. They prattle about unity, but what each of the speakers really wants is obedience to the agenda of whatever unhappy soul is speaking at the moment.

…

This pantheon of disconnected grievance is not the convention of a political party engaged in the sacred and privileged task of trying to nominate a leader. This is certainly not the conventions — Republican or Democrat(ic) — that I remember, with people wearing funny hats, cheering, embracing, contending, and eventually leaving with a newfound purpose. Those events were filled with gravitas and joyful moments for the parties and America. The convention of old was a happy and holy endeavor, a civil religious ceremony of anointing the standard-bearer, and it was filled at the end with the joy of accomplishment. These four nights have been a grudge match. Truthfully, it wouldn't be any more fun to watch if it were in person in Milwaukee.

In truth, this is not a convention. It is a tribute to our current Orwellian language that it is even called a convention. No one has convened. Everyone on screen looks as if he is in a hospital on a solitary death watch or maybe already at the funeral. If these people win in November, the lights will go off in the heart of America, and we will never laugh again. Why in the world would we want to watch that?

So, instead of watching this gloomy group, I have spent the evening watching other things of interest and looking at Twitter and Facebook occasionally to see if anything of moment has happened. Nothing has. No surprises. No soaring rhetoric. Not a new or novel idea from anyone.

…

I've decided I have enough things to be unhappy about this 2020. The dour Dems are just no fun. I will wait for the president's next speech. At least he makes me laugh, and he reminds me of a time when I thought politics was the sacred duty of Americans working to fulfill our ideals in a vibrant and happily contentious democratic republic.

After all, issues aside, who wants to go on a death march?

#judith sherwin #american thinker #dnc

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pope-francis-quotes · 4 years

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9th May >> (@ZenitEnglish) #PopeFrancis #Pope Francis’ Homily during the celebration of Holy Mass in Casa Santa Marta for the Fourth Saturday of Easter: Pope Offers Mass for Daughters of Charity of St. Paul. The Holy Spirit Makes the Church Grow.

Pope Francis on 9th May 2020, offered his Saturday Mass for the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul who help the Pope and live in the Casa Santa Marta. In his homily, he said the Holy Spirit makes the Church grow, while the evil spirit tries to destroy it with envy, power, and money, according to the report published in Vatican News.

In his homily, the Pope recalled the memorial of Saint Luisa de Marillac, who co-founded the Daughters of Charity with Saint Vincent de Paul. A community of the nuns lives in the Casa Santa Marta, and run the pediatric dispensary in the Vatican. Her feast day was earlier on March 15 but since it fell during Lent, it was moved to May 9 in 2016.

A painting of the foundress was placed at the side of the altar in the chapel for her feast.

“Today is the commemoration of Saint Luisa de Marillac,” the Pope said at the start of the Mass. “Let us pray for the Vincentian sisters who have been running this clinic, this hospital, for almost 100 years and have worked here, in Santa Marta, for this hospital. May the Lord bless the sisters,” he said.

In his homily, Pope Francis commented on the passage from the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 13:44-52) where the Jews of Antioch “filled with jealousy and with violent abuse” contradicted Paul’s statements about Jesus. They incited the pious noblewomen and the famous people of the city, provoking persecution that forced Paul and Barnabas to leave the territory.

Speaking about the power of God, the Pope recalled the Responsorial Psalm, “Sing to the Lord a new song, for He has done wondrous deeds; His right hand has won victory for Him, His holy arm. The Lord has made His salvation known…”

In the Acts of the Apostles, the Pope noted, the whole city of Antioch gathered to listen to the Word of the Lord, because Paul and the Apostles preached boldly, and the Spirit helped them. But seeing the multitude, the Jews were filled with jealousy and opposed Paul’s preaching with insults.

On the one hand,” the Pope noted, “there is the Holy Spirit who makes the Church grow. On the other hand, there is the evil spirit that tries to destroy the Church.”

It has always been this way – one goes ahead but the enemy comes to destroy. He said there are many difficulties and martyrdom in this growth, in this struggle. As the Word of God makes the Church grow, persecution often arises.

“The Church,” the Pope pointed out, “strives ahead between the consolations of God and the persecutions of the world”. And when the Church “has no difficulties there is something missing”. He added: “If the devil is calm, things are not going well.”

The Pope said the instrument that the devil uses to destroy the proclamation of the Gospel is envy and jealousy. It is the devil’s anger that destroys.

Witnessing this struggle, the Pope said, it is good to realize that the Church goes ahead between the consolation of God and the persecution of the world.

There is always this struggle – the Holy Spirit creates harmony in the Church and the evil spirit destroys, even today.

Temporal powers, the Pope pointed out, are an instrument of this envy. “Temporal power can be good, people can be good but, in and of itself, power is always dangerous.”

“The power of the world is opposed to the power of God, and behind the power of this world lies money.”

The Pope said that ever since the morning of the Resurrection, temporal power and money have been used to silence the truth.

The Holy Father concluded saying that a Christian should place his or her trust in Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, and not in temporal power and money.

The Masses in Francis’ chapel normally welcome a small group of faithful, but due to recent measures’ taken by the Vatican, are now being kept private, without their participation. The Holy Week and Easter celebrations in the Vatican were also done without the presence of faithful, but were able to be watched via streaming.

It was announced at the start of the lockdowns in Italy that the Pope would have these Masses, in this period, be available to all the world’s faithful, via streaming on Vatican Media, on weekdays, at 7 am Rome time, along with his weekly Angelus and General Audiences.

On May 4th, the country entered its so-called ‘Phase 2′, where it will slowly relaxing some of the lockdown restrictions.

Public Masses in Italy with the faithful will resume on Monday, May 18th, according to a statement of the Italian Bishops’ Conference. There will continue to be various safety measures in place, in order to protect the faithful.

In Italy where nearly 30,000 people have died from COVID19, public Masses are still prohibited. To date, in the Vatican, there have been twelve cases of coronavirus in the Vatican, confirmed a recent statement from the Director of the Holy See Press Office, Matteo Bruni.

The Vatican Museums are closed, along with the Vatican’s other similar museums. There have also been various guidelines implemented throughout the Vatican, to prevent the spread of the virus.

9th MAY 2020 17:56POPE'S MORNING HOMILY

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scrumptiousalpacadeer · 4 years

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My Easter - Removing The Mask

Easter 2020 will forever remain in my memory as the one that hit me like a truck; an invitation I answered body and soul; the Easter where I fully allowed myself to ‘go there’, to pass through the impossible threshold of the crucifixtion and come out the other side. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this happened at the heart of the Covid-19 lockdown; Easter-time this year felt like a glaring luminous invitation to journey inwards. Besides, what else was there to do?! I couldn’t meet with friends, go to cafes or pubs. I was forbidden even to drive to the woods and romp in the leaves. All of sudden the world had stopped, there was no running away this time. I was called, finally, to confront myself with eyes wide open. It’s Holy Week, and I’m being given some very clear marching orders: “its safe to come out now. Its time to remove the mask.”

I can’t recall which particular day it was; perhaps Palm Sunday or Holy Monday, but I received a very clear instruction to write a full, unfiltered confession to myself of the real conditions of my life so far. Somehow it felt entirely correct that I would undertake this task whilst journeying with Christ through his betrayal and crucifixion, for I knew that in order to do this I would be visiting the blackest times of my life; times of pounding lovelessness and cruelty, impossible violence and running blood. I knew that I would need to visit the desolate landscape of my youth, to pull off the grim mask of civilization I’d worn all these years and fully encounter the betrayals by those who were supposed to love me. Hardest of all, I knew at the core of my confession was a fully sighted look at the violent, disconnected person those early losses had turned me into; I would have to gaze up at the sky-scraping height of the walls of defense I’d built around myself; wall that had at times fully eclipsed the sun. I would need to meet all the gentle souls I’d hurt betrayed since that time, believing so wholeheartedly that I was full of stinking rot and no consequence on this earth.

Somehow I knew I wasn’t alone. The deal seemed to be that if I fully surrendered to this, as much as my consciousness would allow, that I would be fully met and held every step of the way. ‘Don’t worry’ a voice said, a deep silent voice inside, ‘it’s safe. I’m here. I won’t leave you..even when it might feel like I have, when things get sticky, I haven’t. I’m always here.’

I was being invited to set myself free and even though there was some trepidation, as with all big journeys into the unknown, there was also a deep excitement, for I knew that if I could come thorugh this portal, there would be a whole new world waiting; a new beginning.

So I jumped out of the plane without a parachute. Upon guidance from The Christian Comunity Church I set up a small shrine on a chest of drawers in my bedroom. It consists of an alabaster statue of Mother Mary cradling a baby Jesus, three candle holders and a clay heart, un-painted and hastily sculptured by my daughter. This was a pilgrimage man must undertake alone; but the world was allowing me a luxurious amount of personal space – the only visitors would be delivery men (!) and my daughter was staying with her father just down the road. I didn’t know at the beginning that my confessions would take nine days, or that some days the words would come in such a torrent. My writing life has always been a response to a physical impulse, a ‘pull’ for something to come out, but never before had I been tugged like this, a fish on a hook. Some days I typed four or five hours straight.

Each morning I breakfasted and went to my little church, dead on ten o’clock. I followed the service advised by the church. I turned off my phone, lit seven candles, read the Gospel aloud, attempted to clear my mind, and said the Lords Prayer – the first time, in forty five years living on this earth, that the words resonated within me with meaning. Every time I said ‘Thy will be done’ I was reminded that this was a task of surrendering to something far bigger than me, not something to ‘push ahead with’ in my head. Those days of intellectual figuring out were no help here. Often on those Easter mornings I asked for strength to keep going. I asked for my faith to be renewed when I felt lost. At the moment of Consecration, in my imagination I feasted hungrily on the bread and drank thirstily from the cup, in fact, it’s more truthful to say I gulped on the life force of Christ. I needed His strength for the day ahead; I needed to be lit up with his light.

Nights I slept in my daughter’s bedroom, waking up each morning of Holy Week to her glorious pictures of elves and sprites; her display of animals photos torn from magazines; a penguin she’d adorned with a speech bubble with the words ‘I’m cold’ scribbled in biro and a baby seal, that she’d adorned with a bow on its head. I woke up to her letter from Santa Claus tacked to the wall and her kitten calendar. It gave me great comfort to sleep in an eight year old’s world, for I knew that my journey required me to be as vulnerable and awe-struck as a child; to recall what it was like to reveal my heart without any thought or consequence.

My appetite lessened; I ate a lot of toast and drank gallons of tea. I typed sitting on the floor with my computer on an upturned crate. Often I wouldn’t dress until late afternoon. After writing I would reward myself with a walk out into the lanes and woodland tracks of Ashurst Wood.

It seemed hugely significant that although I would be plummeting to my death, in the background there was an abundance of fuzzy life; Laura, our tortoise-shell cat had given birth to six kittens on April 4th. They were still limp and blind, but fattening with each second in a cardboard den. As I typed in my daughter’s room, a dark beginning of life resounded silently from the kitten corner.

I gave my confession the title Turning Point. One of the central themes of my Easter 2020 undertaking, if not its core, was letting my sister, Sally Ann, die. But to do this, to grant her her final wish, I knew I needed to tell her story as honestly as I could; to bear witness to her suffering and reveal it to the world; to not conjoin with the world we’d both been born into and ‘cover her up’. Only then would she rest in heaven; only then could I live on earth in freedom. Sally, my dark mysterious sister, ahead of me in the world by three years, committed suicide at our family home in January 1990. She was nineteen years old and I was sixteen at the time.

Somehow I knew that journeying back to the hell of that that time, almost thirty years ago, back to her trimester of suffering when each day felt like a crucifixtion, would lead me into heaven. At some point during these days I experienced a powerful shift in my thinking; a revelation. I realised that for thirty years I’d been living with a fundamental ‘untruth’ - a lie that had at times proved almost fatal. This lie was two-fold and lay at the core of my heart, and in lifting the lid on it, I experienced such a physical release that I was able to kneel down and weep at my little church. I could begin to let go.

The first lie was that I’d thought that I’d had to stop loving my sister because she was no longer here; because of the shame that society places on suicide; because there was no adequate help in the suburbs of Bedfordshire in the early 90s for such an act of self-murder in a three bed semi, because our relationship had been so difficult; because nothing I did seemed to make her happy; because it had all been so hopeless; because my father had told me to buck up two weeks after her death - ‘life goes on Christine’ - all of that meant that I’d detached myself from all the love I felt for my sister, I’d erased it all; I’d cut myself off from my history in shame, forgotten all the nights we’d shared sleeping in the same room; all the good times and laughter we shared, despite her cruelty, despite the confusion. This Easter I was given the gift of remembering myself as a loving child; I recalled; I felt viscerally, in my body, that despite everything, I had loved her. Now wasn’t that something? Wasn’t that a miracle? And then the impossible happened; she took herself out of the game and left me here on earth in devastation. This Easter I needed to reclaimed my heart somehow. ‘It’s ok’ the voice said, ‘speak out. You have nothing to be ashamed of’.

The second lie that I began to put to bed was that somehow my heart was ‘malformed’ or ‘useless’ in some way, because the love I sent forth hadn’t been able to save Sally. For the two months leading up to her suicide, every day when I returned from school, she only got worse, not better. Somehow, and somehow I could offer this up this Easter, I had thought myself a ‘murderer’.

And underneath the civilized mask I wore, the truth was that I’d treated myself often as one would treat a murderous child; I’d kept her locked away, persecuted myself, let people and things I adored fall by the wayside, abandoning myself and my fellow man over and over.

Somehow the grim violence of Christ’s death, the humiliation, the heart-breaking conversation he has with God before-hand ‘isn’t there another way we can do this?!’ rang out to me this year. I finally accepted the devastation of his death. I had to allowed the tsunami of grief and I sat at his feet through-out; I sat at the feet of my dying self in full compassion for her helplessness Only in opening myself to my full vulnerability would I get to the green pasture on the other side. Only by allowing the truth of the world of violence I’d been born into would I undergo the glorious transformations of those violences. Christ’s death reversed a big lie I’d been imprisoned by; that our shadow life is best kept quiet – ‘oh no, don’t you understand?’ he says, ‘the blackness is the very place from which light is born; the point where everything can change; the place where you’ll learn to love. But – and I know this is a bummer - you have to die first.’ If I truly wanted to continue living in my body then it needed to be with wounds revealed. It was so wholly, genetically, biologically different in every way to the life of appearance I’d been forging ahead with.

On the evening of Easter Saturday I drank a small measure of gin for courage and sent Turning Point out into the atmosphere, emailing to my dear friend and writing partner Matilda Leyser. I hung in the balance, waiting for the world to change – daring to believe the unbelievable. Then things got weird; at almost exactly the same time of clicking send and removing my armour, I got attacked. I received a long email, aggressive in tone, from my neighbour informing me that my tom-cat, George, had got in to her house and urinated on her bed. “Please be a responsible pet owner”, she said. “and keep your cats locked in your house from now on.” Isn’t the world like that? I thought. We take the ultimate leap to freedom, and someone, someone you least expect, will swipe you with a long diatribe about cat wee.

But I knew that this was a good sign; a sign that just in me trying to be real, the world had shifted. Wasn’t it time for me to confront the possibility that a good life was waiting for me? Wasn’t it time to forgive my neighbour her trespasses and move on - to a place where I could play the piano without being told to shush? Wasn’t it time to stop communing with misery and take responsibility for my happiness? Doesn’t the resurrection tell us that there’s a chance; that we’re meant to live in abundance?

Easter Monday I thought I’d be overwhelmed with joy but that came later – in fact, in took a couple of weeks of disorientation and yet more grief before I could begin to grasp the sheer revolutionary, upturning power of Jesus’s resurrected body. I read St Luke 24: 39 over and over; “Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself; hand me, and see;” He was back, wounds and all. He was eating with his friends and rejoicing. Their hearts were singing. The old dark world was gone and things could only get better.

A week after Easter my daughter returned home and reclaimed her room. Like every human being on the earth at this time, we have no idea what is going to happen next.

* * * **

A couple of days ago I watched the Billy Wilder classic The Apartment. It’s a simple tale of love and redemption in 50s New York, but there’s a darkness at the centre of the film that surprised me. Fran Kubelik, a central character and love interest played (Shirley MacClaine) is ‘brought back to life’ after attempting suicide on Christmas Eve by the man who loves her, Bud Baxter (Jack Lemmon) and a doctor. and his neighbour. It’s a disturbing scene because she doesn’t want to revive; she’s injected, slapped, given smelling salts, extra strong coffee and finally walked up and down the apartment by the two men like a rag doll to keep her awake. Bud cares for her over the next forty eight hours, hiding his shaving razors for fear she’ll try again; just as my parents hid dangerous implements in high cupboards as my sister’s death wish intensified.

She recovers, and in the glorious ending of the film, Fran has a sudden epiphany. Sitting in the restaurant with her cruel lover, she sits bolt upright, the camera focuses on her widening eyes: she realises that she’s in love with Mr Baxter, the kind man who saved her life. Perhaps she realises that she’s loved him all along. Choosing love, she leaves her old life behind, and sprints through the streets of New York to Bud’s apartment. Her high heels clack up the stairs to his apartment like rapid gun fire. He’s packing up his apartment; he wants something better than loaning out his home as a glorified knocking shop to his bosses and their mistresses. “What are you doing?” Fran asks him.

“I don’t know, …….I just gotta get out of this place’.

They sit with glasses of champagne and prepare to play Gin Rummy:

‘I love you Ms Kubelik. Did you hear what I said? I absolutely adore you.’

“Shut up and deal.’

And so, upon reflection I would say that my Easter has been a bit like those final scenes of The Apartment. I’ve heard love calling, I’ve got up from the table and am running towards it. I’m moving quickly, with the chance at being human, allowing the wounds and scars of the old world to propel me into the new; coming alive from the inside.

I’m ready to drink champagne with friends and play with a whole new hand.

In gratitude to Luke and the priests at the CCC for the milk and honey they provided this Easter: their correspondence, insights and guidance through this Easter-time.

May 2020 Copyright Christine Rose

#Christian renewal #personal resurrection #raised consciousness #spiritualawakening #surviving grief #easter2020

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dailyaudiobible · 4 years

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05/31/2020 DAB Transcript

2 Samuel 17:1-29, John 19:23-42, Psalms 119:129-152, Proverbs 16:12-13

Today is the 31st day of May welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is wonderful to be here with you today. Can you believe it? The last day of the 5th month of the year. And, so, like we’re beginning a brand-new, shiny, sparkly week even as we’re ending this month. And tomorrow we’ll be in month six, but we’re not there. We’re here. We’re on the last day of month five and our journey has taken us…man…our journey has taken us to the highs and the lows and all the in betweens. In the biblical story that we’re reading from second Samuel, the story of King David's life, we’re seeing a lot of highs and lows and in betweens and that this one would be considered a low right now. King David's son, Absalom, is trying to take over the kingdom. And we pick up that story from second Samuel, chapter 17 today. We’re in a new week so we will read from the God's Word Translation this week. Second Samuel chapter 17.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for bringing us into yet another brand-new week, another reset, another restart, another opportunity to consider the road out in front of us, knowing that that's all we can do is consider it. It is out in front of us. But step-by-step, day by day, moment by moment, choice by choice we will write the story of this coming week and we thank You that we have Your word to…to inform those choices, to speak to the things that we will deal with. We thank You for the comfort of Your Holy Spirit to comfort and…and rebuke and discipline and lead us into all truth. We thank You for the Spirit of wisdom at every crossroads crying out, “this is the way You should go.” May we slowdown in this brand-new shiny, sparkly new week to pay attention to what You have given us to show us the way. And even as we end a month, the fifth month. Five months in this year we've been here every day moving forward and You have been here every day leading. And, so, we are grateful, we are humbled. And as we release this week and look forward into the new month, we ask that You lead and guide us as we continue to participate by paying attention, by being awake, by having eyes to see. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus. We ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, it is home base, it is where you find what's going on around here.

This is the last day of the month of May. That's what's going on around here. So, we’re ending a month and beginning a week and preparing our hearts and minds and I guess even bodies to move into the new month because we have to take all those things with us into the new month. And, so, yeah, what a season we have been in. And…wow…it's exciting to know that we will be marching forward together into this new month.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, thank you. We…well…the Global Campfire would be extinguished if we were not in this together. And, so, thank you for your partnership as we move forward into the summer. There is 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 mail, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. That's it for this month. We release it. It now becomes a part of our history and a part of our story, a part of our story together as we move through the Bible this year. So, that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hey, this message is for Chris from Michigan. You dialed in on May 21st about your teenage daughter telling you that she wanted to commit suicide. And, so, I want to pray for you right now. Father, Lord You are in heaven and You are our Father and You are a mighty Father and You have invited us into Your royal eternal family of God along with Your heavenly hosts in the kingdom of heaven. And Lord we praise You that the kingdom of heaven will one day be united with the kingdom of earth. And Lord we praise You Father because You are our protector Father. You’re not an absent Father. You are our heavenly holy all loving all-knowing all sovereign Father and nothing can separate us, nothing can separate us because of Your eternal son, because of our elder brother king Jesus. We worship Your son. We make much of Jesus and we thank You Lord that we live in a family where we are part of the family which we support each other. We not only support each other we lay down our lives for each other and that is Jesus, that is what he has done. And I pray that that same power that seem Holy Spirit would rush upon Chris, would rush upon Chris as the call to be a father, Lord to relentlessly pursue his daughter, to relentlessly lay down his life to protect his daughter in the name of Jesus. Lord, that he would do whatever it takes Lord. Father, that he would do whatever it takes Lord. to look his daughter in the eye and remind her every day, every day that she is precious, that she is loved. And Lord most importantly in this time where his daughter feels so alone, so afraid...

Hey DAB family this is Jordan in Texas and I just want to say, man I love you guys and I’m glad to be a part of this family. And I wanted to pray for my brother in Australia, Terry, who called today May 28th to ask for prayer against his addiction to pornography. And man, I’ve been there, and I know a lot of men who have and have found freedom even after 20 years. And, so let me pray for you and…and everyone else, anyone else who’s struggling with the same stuff. So, Lord I pray for Terry and Australia. Thank You for his boldness to…to ask for prayer for…for something that is very hidden and can be very shameful. Lord, I pray that You would touch his heart. I pray that You would go into those deep places in his heart that are hurting that…that he’s found that some side…some kind of false comfort in pornography, Lord that You would heal him of those things, that he would be bold and take courage to go into those places to find healing. And God I just thank You for that. I pray that You hook him up with a group of men that he can talk to be and vulnerable with and honest with. And God I just pray for healing. I pray that he would taste freedom from this addiction in the name of Jesus. And Terry if you want to email me, you’re more than welcome to - [email protected]. Love you brother have a good day.

Hi this is Katie in Kentucky. Gosh, I’ve been listening to the Daily Audio Bible regularly when I’m out running as that’s always been a place where I just…I don’t know…my heart just opens up a whole lot more and I keep not calling in. I keep having things that I want to say. So, I stopped running today stood to the side of the road and here I am calling in. And there’s so much I want to say. My heart is just breaking for this world. It’s…I just listened to the story about where David sent people with a good message and the people he sent it to received it and said, “oh, it’s a trick” and they challenged their assumptions and it led to…I mean desecrating people, it led to mocking people. I just see our world that way. And I guess my prayer today is that we would just look at one another as a child of God and that we could see that each one of us matters, that no matter whether you wear a mask or don’t wear a mask or you want to open the economy, don’t want to, you know, whatever. I juts…my prayer for this country right now in this world is that we can just all see each other as a child of God, that Jesus died for each one of us, and to start connecting with people instead of making assumptions about why they’re doing what they’re doing. Thank you all for…for all your prayers as you call in. I didn’t use to listen to prayer requests and now I feel so much more connected to this community and I just __ your hearts. I have so much to pray for that I just __ really happy with this world. So…

Hey family it’s Jesse from Washington I think it’s the 28th of May. In a fire right now and man I don’t know what I would do without the Daily Audio Bible, without God’s word speaking to every…100% of the situations that I get myself into or find myself in. There’s a lesson every single day that He applies to my life and to my heart. I want to thank you for all of your prayers for my marriage and for me. Thank you, Kingdom Seeker for your prayers. Woo! That’s all I gotta say about that voice. And I just want to challenge everybody this week and every week to tell somebody about the Daily Audio Bible and give them a testimony to how it’s changed your life and how it even helped you today in some small lesson or big lesson. I mean, everyone needs to know about this. And I tell you, even going to church I would be lost if I had to wait six days before I…I got the word, if I didn’t have time to pick up Scripture I don’t know where I will be family. So, I challenge all of you to tell somebody about this. Tell them about your journey, the tools you’ve learned from this, something. But spread this out. Everyone needs this. And I’m excited for the blessings that are coming in this fire, for the lessons I’m learning and for all the lessons and blessings that are gonna come after this fire. I thank You Father. I thank you family. Love you all. Good…

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wellesleyunderground · 4 years

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Wellesley Writes It: Interview with Anissa M. Bouziane ’87 (@AnissaBouziane), author of DUNE SONG

Anissa M. Bouziane ’87 was born in Tennessee, the daughter of a Moroccan father and a French mother. She grew up in Morocco, but returned to the United States to attend Wellesley College, and went on to earn an MFA in fiction writing from Columbia University and a Certificate in Film from NYU. Currently, Anissa works and teaches in Paris, as she works to finish a PhD in Creative Writing at The University of Warwick in the UK. Dune Song is her debut novel. Follow her on Twitter: @AnissaBouziane.

Wellesley Underground’s Wellesley Writes it Series Editor, E.B. Bartels ’10 (who also got her MFA in writing from Columbia, albeit in creative nonfiction), had the chance to chat with Anissa via email about Dune Song, doing research, publishing in translation, forming a writing community, and catching up on reading while in quarantine. E.B. is especially grateful to Anissa for willing to be part of the Wellesley Writes It series while we are in the middle of a global pandemic.

And if you like the interview and want to hear more from Anissa, you can attend her virtual talk at The American Library tomorrow (Tuesday, May 26, 2020) at 17h00 (Central European Time). RSVP here.

EB: First, thank you for being part of this series! I loved getting to read Dune Song, especially right now with everything going on. I loved getting to escape into Jeehan’s worlds, though sort of depressing to think of post-9/11-NYC as a “simpler time” to escape to. My first question is: Reading your biography, I know that you, much like Jeehan, have moved back and forth between the United States and Morocco––born in the U.S.A., grew up in Morocco, and then back to the U.S.A. for college. You’ve also mentioned elsewhere that this book was rooted in your own experience of witnessing the collapse of the Twin Towers on 9/11. How much of your own life story inspired Dune Song?

AMB: Indeed, Dune Song is rooted in my own experience of witnessing the collapse of the Twin Towers on 9/11. As a New Yorker, who experienced the tragedy of that now infamous Tuesday in September almost 19 years ago, I would not have chosen the collapse of the World Trade Center as the inciting incident of my novel had I not lived through those events myself. So yes, much of what Jeehan, Dune Song’s protagonist, goes through in NYC is rooted in my own life experience. Nonetheless the book is not an autobiography — I would consider it more of an auto-fiction, that is a fiction with deep roots in the author’s experience. The New York passages speak of the difficulties of coming to terms with the tragedy that was 9/11 — out of principle, I would not have chosen 9/11 as the inciting incident of my novel if I did not have first hand experience of the trauma which I recount.

EB: Thanks for saying that. I feel like there is a whole genre of 9/11 novels out there now and a lot of them make me uncomfortable because it feels like they are exploiting a tragedy. Dune Song did not feel that way to me. It felt genuine, like it was written by someone who had lived through it.

AMB: As for the desert passage that take place in Morocco, though I am extremely familiar with the Moroccan desert — and have traveled extensively from the dunes of Merzouga to the oasis of Zagora — this portion of the novel is totally fictional. That being said, I am one of those writers who rides the line between fiction and reality very closely, so if you ask me if I ever let myself be buried up to my neck in a dune, the answer would be: yes.

EB: How did the rest of the story come about? When and how did you decide to contrast the stories of the aftermath of 9/11 with human trafficking in the Moroccan desert?

AMB: Less than six months after 9/11, in March of 2002 I was invited back to Morocco by the Al Akhawayn University, an international university in the Atlas Mountains near the city of Fez. There I gave a talk which would ultimately provide me with the core of Dune Song: the chapter that takes place in the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine, where following a mass in commemoration of the victims of the 9/11 attacks, an Imam from a Mosque in Queens was asked to recite a few verses from the Holy Quran. The Moroccan artists and academics present that day were deeply moved by my talk (which in fact simply recounted my lived experience); they told me that I should turn my talk into a novel. I thought the idea interesting and began to write, but within a year the Iraq War was launched and suddenly a story promoting dialogue and mutual understanding between the Islamic World and the West seemed to interest few, so I moved on to other things. Nonetheless, the core of Dune Song stayed with me.

Years later, as I re-examined that early draft, I realized that if I was to turn it into a novel, it had to transcend my life experience — and that is when I turned to my knowledge of the Moroccan desert and my longstanding interest in illegal trafficking across the Sahara desert. I returned to Morocco from the USA in 2003 thanks to Wellesley’s Mary Elvira Stevens Alumnae Traveling Fellowship to research what will soon be my second novel, but truth be told I got the grant on my second try. My first try in the mid-90s had been a proposal to explore the phenomenon of South-North migration across the Sahara and the Mediterranean. I remained an active observer of issues around Trans-Saharan migration, but I went to the desert three or four times on my return to Morocco before I understood that this was where Jeehan too must travel. My decision to bring Jeehan there probably emanated out of the serenity that I experienced when in the desert, but if Dune Song was to be more than just a cathartic work, I realized it should also attempt to draw a cartography of a better tomorrow — and so Jeehan would have to go to battle for others whose fate was in jeopardy because of a continued injustice overlooked by many. It seemed clear to me that Jeehan’s path and those of the victims of human trafficking had to cross. Her quest for meaning in the wake of the 9/11’s senseless loss of life depended on it.

EB: I really loved the structure of the book––the braided narratives, moving back and forth between New York and Morocco. How did you decide on this structure? And how and why did you choose to have the Morocco chapters move forward chronologically, while the New York chapters bounce around in time? To me it felt reflective of the way that we try to make sense of a traumatic event––rethinking and obsessing over small details, trying to make sense of chaos, all the pieces slowing coming together.

AMB: Fragmented narratives have always been my thing, probably because, as someone who straddles many cultures and who feels rooted in many geographies, I felt early on that fragmented forms leant themselves to the multi-layered stories that emanated out of me. My MFA thesis was an as-yet-unpublished novel entitled: Fragments from a Transparent Page (inspired by Jean Genet’s posthumous novel). Even my early work in experimental cinema was obsessed with fragmentation — in large part because I believe that though we experience life through the linear chronology of time, we remember our lives in far-less linear fashion. I agree with you that trauma further disrupts our attempts at streamlining memory. The manner in which we remember, and how the act of remembering — or forgetting — shapes the very content of our memory is essential to my work as a novelist, for I believe it is essential to our act of making meaning of our lived experience.

In Dune Song the reader watches Jeehan travel deep into the Moroccan desert. We also watch her remember what has come before. And we witness her struggle with her memories, which is why the New York chapters bounce around in time. The thing she is frightened of most — her memories of seeing the Towers crumble, knowing countless souls are being lost before her eyes — this she cannot remember, or refuses to remember clearly. And it is not until she is in the heart of the desert and is confronted with the images of the collapse of the WTC as beamed through a small TV screen in Fatima’s kitchen, that she takes the reader with her into the recollection of that trauma. Once that remembering is done, her healing can truly begin — and the time of the novel heads in a more chronological direction.

EB: While this is a work of fiction, I imagine that a significant amount of research went into writing this book, especially concerning the horrors of human trafficking. What sorts of research did you do for Dune Song?

AMB: As I mentioned earlier, beginning in the mid-nineties, the issue of human trafficking across the Sarah became a subject of academic and moral concern to me. But the fact that I grew up in Morocco, and spent many of my summers in my paternal grandmother’s house in Tangier, sensitized me to this topic very early on. Tangier, is located at the most northern-western tip of the African continent, and therefore it is a weigh station for many who aim to cross the Straits of Gibraltar with hopes of getting to Spain, to Europe. I recall a moment when as a teenager I gazed out over the Straits from the cliff of Café Hafa, where Paul Bowles used to write, and imagined that the body of water before me as a watery Berlin Wall. One of my unpublished screenplays, entitled Tangier, focused on the tragedy of those who risked their lives to cross the Straits. So, did I do research to write Dune Song? You bet — I folded into Dune Song topics that had been in the forefront of my consciousness for years.

EB: I know that Dune Song has been published in Morocco by Les Editions Le Fennec, published in the United Kingdom by Sandstone Press, published in France by Les Editions du Mauconduit, and published in the U.S.A. by Interlink Books. What was the experience like, having your book published in different languages and in different countries? Were any changes made to the novel between editions?

AMB: Dune Song was first published in Morocco in an early French translation. Initially this was out of desperation, not choice. I wrote Dune Song in English, and I shopped the English manuscript in the UK and the US to no avail. I was told by people who mattered in literary circles that the book was too transgressive to be published in either the US or UK markets. Suggestion was made to me that I remove all the New York passages from the book if I was to stand a chance of having it hit the English speaking market. I refused to do so and instead worked with my friend and translator, Laurence Larsen to come up with a French version. That being done, I shopped it around in France only to be told that a translation couldn’t be published before the original. Dismissively, I was told to seek-out who might benefit from an author like me existing. The comment hit me like a slap across the face, and I sincerely thought of giving up on the work all together — more than that, I thought I might give up on writing — but my students (who have always been a source of support for me — more on that later) convinced me not to trow in the towel. Once I had the courage to re-examine the question posed to me by the French, I realized that there was a viable answer: the Moroccans. That’s when I contacted Layla Chaouni, celebrated French-language publisher in Casablanca, and asked her if she might want to consider Dune Song for Le Fennec.

Layla’s enthusiasm for the novel marked a huge shift in Dune Song’s fortunes: the book was published in Morocco, won the Special Jury Prize for the Prix Sofitel Tour Blanche, was selected to represent Morocco at the Paris Book fair in 2017, which then lead me (through my Wellesley connections) to gain representation by famed New York literary agent Claire Roberts. It was Claire who got me a contract with Sandstone as well as with Interlink and with Mauconduit — she has been an unconditional champion of my work, and for this I will be eternally grateful. It must be noted that when the book got to Sandstone, I believe it was ‘wounded’ — it had gone through many incarnations, but I was not thrilled with the final outcome. My editor at Sandstone, the fantastic Moria Forsyth gave me the space and guidance to “heal” the manuscript — that is, she identified what was not working and sent me off to fix things, with the promise of publication as a reward for this one last push. The result was the English version that everyone is reading today (published in the UK by Sandstone and in the US by Interlink Publishing). My translator, Laurence Larsen worked diligently to upgrade the French translation for Mauconduit.

It has been a long journey, at times dispiriting, at time exhilarating. I am terribly excited that today, my Dune Song has been published in four countries, and there is hope for more. In the darkest hours of the process, I gave myself permission to give up. “You’ve come to the end of the line,” I told myself, “it’s okay if your stop writing altogether.” In hindsight, hitting rock bottom was essential, because the answer that came back to me was NO. No, I won’t stop writing. I accepted that I might never be published, but I refused to stop writing, for to do so would be to give up on the one action that brought meaning to my life.

EB: You’ve mentioned that Dune Song was originally written in English, though I am guessing, based on your background and reading the book, that you also speak Arabic and French. How and why did you decide to write Dune Song in English? And did you translate the work yourself into the French edition?

AMB: Yes, Dune Song was originally written in English. Though I speak French and Moroccan Arabic (Darija) fluently, my imagination has always constructed itself in English. Growing up in Morocco as of the age of eight, I considered English to be my secret garden — the material of which my invented worlds were made. I had often thought that my return to the United States, at the age of 18 to attend Wellesley, was an attempt to find a home for my words. Even today, living in Paris, I continue to write in English.

I chose not to translate Dune Song into French myself, primarily because my French does not resemble my English — it exists in a different sphere belonging more to the spoken word. I wanted a translator to show me what my literary voice might sound like in French. I have done a fair amount of literary translation, but always from French into English, and not the other way around. Nonetheless, as you rightly noted, I have actively wanted to give my readers the illusion of hearing Arabic and French when reading Dune Song. I like to refer to this as creating Linguistic Polyphony: were the base language (in this case English) is made to sing in different cords. I think my French translator, Laurence Larsen was able to reverse this process and give the French text the illusion of hearing English and Arabic.

EB: In addition to your research, what other books influenced or inspired Dune Song? My fiancé, Richie, happened to be reading the Dune chronicles by Frank Herbert while I was reading your book, and then I laughed to myself when I saw you reference them on page 56.

AMB: The Dune Chronicles, of course! Picture this: a teenage me reading Frank Herbert’s Dune while waiting at the Odaïa Café on the old pirate ramparts of Rabat while my mother was shopping in the medina. I read twelve volumes of the Chronicles. Reading voraciously in English while growing up in Morocco was one of the ways for me to always ensure that my imagination was powering up in English. You’ll note that I give Jeehan this same passion for books. Many of the books that she turns to in her time of need are the books that have shaped who I am and how I see the world: Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, Allende’s House of Spirits, Okri’s The Famished Road, Calvino’s The Colven Vicount, Aristotle’s The Poetics, Edna St. Vincent Millay’s poetry…

EB: What are you currently reading, and/or what have you read recently that you’ve really enjoyed? What would you recommend we all read while laying low in quarantine?

AMB: I’m one of those people who reads many books (fiction, non-fiction, and poetry) at the same time. If I look at my night stand right now, here are the titles I see: in English — Hannah Assadi’s Sonora, Ward’s Sing, Unburied, Sing, Du Pontes Peebles’ The Air You Breathe, and Margo Berdeshevsky’s poetry collection: Before the Drought, in French — Santiago Amigorena’s Le Ghetto intérieur, and Mahi Binebine’s La Rue du pardon.

In quarantine, Margo’s poetry has provided me with a level of stillness and insight I did not realize I longed for — and has seemed prescient in its understanding of humanity’s relationship to our planet.

EB: On your website, you mention you are also a filmmaker, an artist, and an educator in addition to being a writer. How do you think working in those other fields/mediums influences your writing? How do you think being a writer influences those other pursuits?

AMB: Writing as an act of meaning making is the mantra I constantly recite to my students. In my moment of greatest despair, they echoed it back to me. Why do I allow myself this type of discourse with my students? Because as a high school teacher of English and Literature, my speciality is the teaching of writing. While at Columbia University, though enrolled in a Masters of Fine Arts in Fiction at the School of the Arts, I had a fellowship at Columbia Teachers College, specifically with The Writing Project lead by Lucy Calkins (today known as The Reading and Writing Project). There I worked as a staff developer in the NYC Public School system and conducted research that contributed to Lucy’s seminal text, The Art of Teaching Writing. Over the years my students have helped me realize why we bother to tell stories and how elemental writing is to our very humanity. I could never divorce my writing from the act of teaching.

Regarding cinema, as I mentioned earlier, my frustration with how to translate multi-lingual texts into one language is what originally drove me to experiment with film. What I discovered as I dove deeper into the medium, was how key images are to the act of storytelling. Once I returned to writing literature, I retained this awareness of the centrality images in the transmission of lived experience. I smile when readers of Dune Song point out how cinematic my writing is — film and fiction should not stand in opposition one to the other.

EB: Writing a book takes a really long time and can be a really lonely and frustrating experience. Who did you rely on for support during the process? Other writers? Family? Friends? Fellow Wellesley grads? What does your writing/artistic community look like?

AMB: It took me over ten years to write and publish Dune Song. The tale of how it came to be is almost worthy of a novel itself. When things were at their most arduous, I went back to reading Tillie Olsen’s Silences, about how challenging it is for women to write and publish — it was a book I had been asked to read the summer before my Freshman year. Though I won’t tell the full story here — I must acknowledge that without the support of my sister, Yasmina, and my parents, as well as essential and amazing women in my life, many of them from Wellesley, Dune Song would never have seen the light of day. Sally Katz ‘78, has been my fairy-godmother, all good things come to me from her, plus other members of the astounding Wellesley Club of France, especially its current president, my dear classmate, Pamela Boulet ‘87. I must thank my earliest Wellesley friend, Piya Chatterjee ’87, who plowed through voluminous and flawed drafts. Karen E. Smith ’87, who reminded me of my creative abilities when I seemed to have forgotten, and who brought her daughter to my London book launch. Dawn Norfleet ’87 who collaborated with me on my film work when we were both at Columbia, and Rebecca Gregory ’87, with who was first in line to buy Dune Song at WH Smith Rue de Rivoli, and Kimberly Dozier ’87, who raised a glass of champagne with me in Casablanca when the book first came back from the printers. The list of those who helped me get this far and who continue to help me as I forge ahead is long - and for this I am grateful… writing is a thrilling but difficult endeavor, and without community and friendship, it becomes harder.

And since the book has been published, the Wellesley community has been there for me in ways big and small, even in this time of COVID. Out in Los Angeles, Judy Lee ’87 inspired her fellow alums to read Dune Song by raffling a copy off a year ago — and now, they have invited me to speak to their club on a Zoom get-together in June!

EB: Speaking of Wellesley, and since this is an interview for Wellesley Underground, were there any Wellesley professors or staff or courses that were particularly formative to you as a writer? Anyone you want to shout out here?

AMB: When a student at Wellesley, a number of Professors where particularly supportive of me and my work. At the time, I was a Political Science and Anthropology major; Linda Miller and Lois Wasserspring of the Poli-Sci department were influential and present even long after I graduated, and Sally Merri and Anne Marie Shimony of the Anthropology department helped shape the way I see the world.

Any mention of my early Wellesley influences must include Sylvia Heistand, at Salter International Center, and my Wellesley host-mother, Helen O’Connor — who still stands in for my mother when needed!

More recently, Selwyn Cudjoe and the entire Africana Studies Department, have become champions of my work. Thanks to their enthusiasm for Dune Song, I was able to present the novel at Harambee House last October and engage in dialogue about my work with current Wellesley students and faculty. This was a remarkable experience which gave me a beautiful sense of closure regarding the ten-year project that has been Dune Song. Merci Selwyn!

I speak of closure, but my Dune Song journey continues, just before the pandemic, thanks to the Wellesley Club of France and Laura Adamczyk ’87, I was able to meet President Johnson and give her a copy of Dune Song!

EB: Is there anything else you’d like the Wellesley community to know about Dune Song, your other projects, or you in general?

AMB: Way back at the start of the millennium, when the Wellesley awarded me the Mary Elvira Stevens Traveling Fellowship, I set out to excavate family secrets and explore the non-verbal ways in which generation upon generation of mothers transmit traumatic memories to their daughters. My research took me many more years than expected, but I am now in the process of writing that novel, along with a doctoral thesis on Trauma and Memory.

In conjunction with this second novel, I am working with Rebecca Gregory ’87, to produce a large-scale installation piece exploring the manner in which the stories of women’s lives are measured and told.

EB: Thank you for being part of Wellesley Writes It!

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emersonmanandnature · 4 years

Text

March 13, 2020

How can we be gods children if we don’t know him by his true natural self? Who is god? Is he a figment of our imagination? An imagination scared of the directions presenting themselves, so we look for comfort in an illusive god we made trustworthy without flaws, a perfection we ourselves can’t possible know or be.

And yet aren’t we perfect as well if we seek our own inner journey and express our feeling through our artistic talents.

Some say we know him through ourselves, our internal, necessary dependence on something bigger, more powerful than our meek voices. A vision of a healer that can bring us to his promised land.

But is that really a faithful promise or just a cliche given to sooth the savage beast in us all. For religion is the calming drug we are given because if it wasn’t we would be in constant rebellion, fighting and killing each other, oh wait, we are doing that anyway. So why is religion and a promise of salvation the hook that catches us and won’t let go. I guess you could say faith through religion is a good money maker and the script had already been written. A lot of plagiarism there because it is hard to start your own religion and end up with billions of scared people following the repetitive words necessary for their resurrection.

Why is god hiding his presence from us? Is he a little overweight and his beard a little scraggly perhaps because he has been traveling around this universe saving other planets enjoying their foods but ignoring our despair?

What does he have against us, beside our egotistical self importance and a desire to rule others? Maybe he sees our need to squelch the oligarch’s fatherly corruption, living in their heavenly paradise here on earth, forget about dying and losing their power and dominance over humanity. That is never going to happen unless we all come together as one, not mouthing gods demands but our demands to live a full life without having to fear if our jobs will be shipped overseas and if this planet can withstand for now the absolute looting of our resources for profit by murdering human beings.

They say you can’t take it with you, no shit sherlock, you can’t even take yourself to hell on a sleigh ride. The ending is a darkness in despair. So why not be for now, a glutton for pleasure here on this planet, with frighten adults acting like children afraid of their own shadow. Well, they should be scared for the corruption even for the wealthy is getting too complicated and devoid of reason. Take, take, and take some more seems to be the new scriptures of our earthly presence. We feel the fear and anguish coming as our society of laws break down into street violence amongst the people while the rich will be sheltered in a manger of wealth behind a giant wall protecting their insatiable desires.

For the wealthy this is their heavenly vision, for they derive pleasure in seeing others suffering and their greed is seen everywhere across this speck of dust by jealousy and envy, as the sinners speak our truth.

Their psychopathic mental self-interest impacts the citizens with degradation and criminal intent, for the 1% could careless about humanity, they are only attentive to their own desires first, for the elites with no moral foundation toward other human beings needs, beside those that share their immoral moneyed excessiveness, cherish all self-indulgence as a necessary representation of their smug and self-centeredness, an obnoxious determination to destroy the free spirit in the populace, living not just in the good old usa of debauchery but in corrupted countries worldwide and controlling the populaces behavior as the romans did when god sent his only son to perform an impossible task and allowed christ to suffer for our sins that washed us clean of guilt and made us stronger to systematically attack and dismantle truth with vicious propaganda lies to influence the racists that still believe they are the goodness of this petty earth, better than those poor humans in their repeating excuses of why this earth is in turmoil, not by the military industrial complex, the corrupt corporations, and the bought and sold political stooges claiming to be our buddies as they take more of our hard earned tax dollars and then pass fraudulent laws that are only give aways to the criminals that live fat on the herd expressing how important they are for the world to succeed in destroying itself.

Dissecting a known truth as a scheme to influence the men and women of angered hate toward themselves, outward toward innocent families not knowing the true culprit of their fears and loss of jobs is the wealthy that use our hard earned tax dollars for their own personal pleasure and can’t believe these fools that believe they have their best interests when all the rich want is more and more of what you got until you have no more and are forced to live in the slum streets of cities worldwide.

These one per centers are not like us human beings, they have no morals or empathy for anyone or anything unless there are profits to be made. They are as cold as an ice berg, hold on not any more, these staggering warming temperatures, lets say they are as sinful as hellish evil prospering on our once heavenly paradise.

The politicians smirk and take pride in serving these destructive powers of dark hate. Their swollen heads of self-glorification turn their angry eyes toward anyone different than their own corrupted morals and the criminal minds allow them to gain a little more income but not enough for them to get heady and think they are now part of the elite class that can’t be bothered with the break down of a cohesive society based on love for all for that was never going to be part of the deal when christ sacrificed himself, for he was alone, a forsaken prophet looking to bring mankind together but where is the profit margin in kindness.

We exist in a corrupt world that inflames hate to deflect the true goals of the wealthy, a living hell for everyone whether they toe the line of bigotry or not.

Lets remember god killed guilty and innocent people alike, he murdered easily enough at least in the old days before he decided to send his only son to suffer for our sins, pretty good trick there, are you afraid of a little pain yourself? snuffing out every human on the planet except gods favorite lackey, the boatman, Noe’s ark, who saved the animals and god said, “I will never again curse the ground on account of man, of the inclination of man’s heart is evil from his youth.”

I would think the killing off the people on earth is pretty evil. Was god competing with the Prince of Darkness to see who could claim the most pervasive disregard for human life ever known. Does god have feelings of anger like we do if so wouldn’t he be human?

Even in today’s violent wars for profit nowhere have we hit that goal, the death of all the human race but we are getting closer to the truth of our predicament, the wealthy trying their best to imitate god. I wonder if we should start making our case for survival, do you think!

But for now we are the leftovers from paradise denied, we do your dirty work for you and you can sit back and condemn us for our murderous nature even though we inherited this from you, our father.

Praise the lord for his brutal killing of his flock just like we are prone to explosive acts of murder in our own unique ways.

We are god’s drones on auto pilot doing his bidding, trying to impress him with our lack of morals for he showed us how murdering is part of being a good servant to his needs.

God’s perfection is an illusion an abstraction of nonsense, the killing of humanity is our own worse fears of hate and malice toward anyone different from our skin color, not gods.

Oh sure, 2,000 years ago he came and performed miracles of love through god’s grace, given to his son to change our dependent minds on the physical nature of this reality.

By conditioning humans to think of their own resurrection to heaven so they would eventually lose interest in this planet earth for the religious zealots condemned anyone that thought this world could be our paradise. For our earthly presence here in this place is for the people to suffer at the hands of the church and others, angry mobs seek vengeance in the name of his holiness, lord and supreme being. It sounds like these religious zealots were practicing their opening act for lucifer, calling their presence on earth a killing field without mercy for those heathens different from our shady truth. For he is our truth and our salvation and we must endure the pain we inflict on other human beings for soon they will be like us and will demand our deaths.

Through the creation of more and more powerful weapons mankind gave religion the go ahead to condemn other faiths as heathen and below their godly standards. And lets face it if you make a weapon that can easily kill another why not go ahead and do it for ultimately aren’t we just animals with a bomb and without a moral compass.

Was god a ruler with an earthly projected character, just a powerful man made force hidden in our psyche, out of our sight but yet present everywhere, in everything and every one of us, as we became the powerful judge and jury. When we get down to our true behavior we are the criminals our sons and daughters learn from us what true violence and destruction is. Not just the heartless truth of what we are but also what we will never become, a loving community with one goal, freedom and tranquillity for all people no matter their skin color. When you have a commandment, “love they neighbor as thyself,” ignored just to perpetuate violence on others for strategic profits I would say our lords words have been abandoned!

Adam and Eve betrayed his trust through the devils work. And we are also betraying god’s work though our own inner hate and frustration that we have not been saved from ourselves for 1,000s of years.

Did god really expect someone new to this reality, fresh from being nothing to suddenly being a physical presence in the garden of eden, and all of a sudden living in a wealth of exotic foods and of course god himself smiling and giving him orders, this had to be an overwhelming fantasy paradise and to think that not only is there a god above them but also a devil below them, kind of a smorgasbord of good and bad things for our future lives to be blamed for. Damned if we don’t pray to our almighty god and damned when we act in a devilish fashion out of ignorance.

Lets get real here for just a minute, I don’t think my sins add up to the sins of the wealthy and their investment in killing the planet and other human beings through wars for profit and their deep addiction to power at any cost as long as the cost is put on the backs of the working people for they, the new gods of pain and despair are above the law and especially gods laws and are deeply entrenched in manipulating our behavior through mind altering influences that pits us fighting amongst ourselves as the corrupt oligarchs sit and count their billions just to feed their overgrown ego’s of avarice and vanity. Where is our protective god now, has he come down from the heavens and booted these crooks out of the temple again and sent them on their merry way to live in the fiery pit? In today’s hell hole on this planet we don’t have the excuse of adam and eve for we know the score in life and we see and feel the wealthy’s hatred and greed towards all of us, the little people with no special purpose but to serve their needs.

These rich self-centered ego’s always looking for profits to torture and murder innocent men, women and children. What kind of god would allow this to be the norm where the oligarchs get their money and the people get the shaft through opened eyed murderous evil.

And our lord god allows these killings as a necessary step toward our salvation and if that is the case then god is in for a whole lot of trouble, a lot of soul cleansing, we seek our savior external to our own inner being, usually in a church setting that stigmatizes us as devilish sinners that need to pray morning, noon and night and praise the lord every minute as we abandoned all of our unspoken dreams, we are all sinners even though most of us don’t know any demonic sins we have committed yet we are labeled sinners with no purpose it seems but to hate our inner and outer selves.

I must disagree with this callous obnoxious poser rock of preacher’s lies that speak this garbage because they hate themselves and their hidden actions of lust and addiction to the little power given them from the congregation of his lost lambs ready to be sheered of any hope of salvation. Unless they like his mansion and his bedroom.

If god was so easy to know then we all would be saintly sinners and his pep talk each week would be to live your life to the fullest not in fear and hate but in love of thy neighbor, as I love you and as you should love yourself.

But our absent father, son and the holy ghost have abandoned his children to the voracious appetite of caveman behavior, humans with no moral constraints and no qualms of killing innocence with starvation, war, prison, slavery, no jobs, no hope and hate just for more profit.

Hate is the new marketplace for all of us to shop at. We have any kind of weapon you want. The dealers don’t care what you do with it as long as you lay down the bucks to purchase your inner hatred being fulfilled.

How are we to praise his image of redemption when mankind is on the verge of insane violence just for material possessions?

Words inspired by ancient minds desperate to believe in something more than this pain of living, sought solace in an imaginary friend, a savior to ease our suffering through a resurrection. A friend that was beyond our understanding, beyond our earthly presence and this figure of love for his children became the religions of the masses passed down through centuries of suffering by the hands of the powerful rulers who praised this new distraction which gave them more power to steal from the populace as a necessary evil, a demand from our lord that these men of wealth were above the law and through the centuries of violence toward the meek, hatred of anothers skin color, a willingness to attack and murder another religion as god’s will, this was all a mental mind game, a society that was and is manipulated into believing that the rich and powerful have the right to place themselves above the law because these diabolical gluttonous predators are in the same category as your god you worship, it was just they didn’t promise anyone would escape this earth, this physical hell.

Why the lonely death amongst the physical presence of others? Wouldn’t it be better to know that a supreme creator is there waiting for you, not in silence but yelling and screaming, you can do it, you can be saved. A mental illusion of comfort for your trials and pain for living a life for others without satisfaction for you and your family.

We the herded children of this false dream of paradise, somewhere up their, some place in the dark starry night maybe a trillion miles away is our foundation for suffering in this astral plane of nonsense and not going insane from the brutality of the powerful, always seeking more than they deserve.

I think we can now agree that our paradise is not exterior to our selves but in us and we now have to focus our intuitive perceptions toward seeking our own salvation through our love for all people’s of this earth.

Yet, you still feel a presence, it is a wordless silence as you interpret your own vision, in your own words hoping what you think and feel is your god’s mercy funneling the holy spirits thoughts into you as an objective witness of his revelation.

The wealthy have no god but themselves. They understand their power with only meager limitations, their fright of retribution for their underhanded manipulation of prices and for taxes that give them more authority over the inferior beings that look to the stars as they are being brutalized from every possible angle by the plutocrats.

Where humans pray for their salvation, the rich pray for the next blockbuster investment with no fears of loss for they will be warned early if the stock they put millions on collapses so they can get out quick and then watch the poor working people lose their shirt and soul to greed.

Wealth always makes money for the family, if you cut corners so be it, my god will understand the financial side of life, so what if he entered the temple and threw out the money lenders, I am not one of those, yes, I sucked money off the poor but it was a good deal for them as well, I can’t think of anything on top of my empty greedy head but I am sure they were given something for their land and their back breaking work on property they owed mucho bucks on.

We saved them from earthy pain through the hanging tree.

The wealthy will finally break with the gluttonous universe of possessions and their ego will finally be humbled from the obsession to be seen and heard as if this would placate their inner fears and you there! look in my eyes, nothing you do is immortal and you soon will be on the down slope with bodily decay grasping for any hold you can manage, flowing easily into that pitiful need to beg for your liberation from death and never finding the pardon you demanded by showing your goodness so purposefully disguised, giving to others what they never asked for and didn’t need or want.

One cannot refute or excuse the lost opportunities of youth, each seeking her or his own structured becoming, the known entity of your external self one would eventually stop respecting and hoping for a universal change in their life but only beginning to understand what the greedy demanded by creating this appalling wealth on the back breaking work of the many. No last supper here, only a watered down excuses for a life disappearing and being replaced by the same quality of consciousness as before, let the greed attract the amoral deceptions of avarice, those bewildered by the voracious appetite for power move forward until they are systematically robbed of their selfhood and beg for their last meal on this planet knowing there will be no mercy without suffering.

If the church represents god’s voice on earth and the church is seen not as a saintly experiment in thought control but a corrupt and incompetent group of men that have a lustful heart for the weak and use their status of holiness as a facade to dig deep into others lives, to feel their trauma of existence with gleeful proclivity knowing they have an innocent to betray with lies they sold to the congregation, to tweak their hearts to give more and more, for in their robed disguise they rejoice in their saintly hypocrisy and toast those that can’t see the foundation of the church was not god’s will but the lust for power of those present in their false words, giving to the parishioners a truth that one can’t deny for if you do find fault with the logic of obsessive religious power, a god like characteristic, you will be abandoned to the wolves of debauchery, that think of themselves defenders of gods word, love thy money as thyself, a quote someone wrote but to believe it you need confirmation from the holy spirit, coming to you with talons spread for a sacrificial lamb with a bleeding soul repenting in screaming terror of existential nothingness.

We seek the truth of the intellect but not the truth of our intuition, we have incorporated into our thinking this illusion of the past as truthful and as truth it is responsible for all that we feel and see in god’s earthy glory in our present moments, we must believe and accept the truth of others that use this bait and switch to earn vast sums of money from all that god is, (their little puppet on a stick), we are his children and as his children we must live the life he gives us and if we wander away from the path to his glory we will be punished with everlasting hell on this round peanut hole called earth.

A universal symbol of stupidity, a mind caught up in profit over a helping hand, without courage to express and defend the nature of truth by opening your heart to every living person on this planet.

But wait, see we are doing god’s little work by making people suffer for his crucifixion. If he died for us the least we can do is ask all of us to die a slow painful death too, amen, praise the lord!

Centuries ago the believers believed that the son of god came to earth and sacrificed himself for the sins of the working folks at the doors of his church of truth. But with a bait and switch move they switched places with the apostles of faith and they became the custodians of the lies that break the spirits of souls by allowing none to doubt the possibilities of the pleasure palace of sexual delights. We now seek god in many disguises.

Ask yourself if jesus was right to expose the greed and corruption in the temple by driving them from his holy presence then why do we still believe in the greed and corruption christ tried to exterminate. The answer is quite simple human nature. We are an animal persona with a semblance of intelligence but when it comes down to the earthly pleasures we are rutting in the back woods just like any other beast of burden.

Your belief is not an outside force telling you what to believe but an inner belief in your silent god and with prayer you hope to extend your life beyond the demanding years of old age. Your paradise is waiting as long as you don’t contradict the emperors of religion and the corporation living in vatican city. Which amount to the same kind of criminality and lust running rampant in the society of blind ignorance of our real truth.

Your internal force of god is the only way to experience the true revelation of our savior. Can you spread the word of god beyond yourself, for once it enters the mind of another person then their hearing is just an acceptance without internal sight. We believe what we are taught, just as you were as a child, you are told what to believe and how to act, how simple and detrimental to the freedom of our individual souls.

Conditioned beyond self recognition we accept the universal hope of truth but instead we get a commercial of malice expecting all to join in the big extravaganza of shopping on his holy birthday.

We look to him for answers of our trust of exterior values that are never real and are meant to manipulate us into contribution to the chump fund, as if the church doesn’t already have the wealth to help the starving children around this god forsaken planet of mercenaries.

We accept his silence as our truth and we proceed forward not in a loving relationship but in a money transaction between lawyers of equal status centered not on the words of a misfortunate prophet but others that interpreted his demise as a foolish wish and that in order to survive these men and women of the holy flock of voracious selfishness must insist on payment up front before any transaction is completed in the name of god.

#conditioned #forsaken #profit #self #endings #no morals #politicians smirk #egotistical self importnace #faith #captive #cjcorwinoriginal

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jordanianroyals · 4 years

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15 January 2020: King Abdullah II delivered an address to the European Parliament in Strasbourg, France, covering a number of regional and international concerns.

Addressing parliamentary representatives of the European Union’s member states, King Abdullah stressed the importance of leadership, noting that leaders have a responsibility to safeguard their people’s long-term interests and welfare.

His Majesty highlighted developments in the region and the world over the past decade. (Source: Petra)

Following is the full text of the King’s address to the European Parliament:

“In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful,

Mr President, Honourable Members, Your Excellencies, My friends:

Thank you all. It is an honour to speak before the European Parliament once again.

As I look around this historic Chamber, I see it holds many hundreds of people. But in truth, there are with us today millions more, from different countries, histories, and perspectives.

So we, who are gathered here, have two things in common. First, is our responsibility to these millions—the people who have entrusted us with their hopes and fears.

And second, we are all very fortunate—for a life spent in the service of others, is a life fully lived. But only if we live up to the expectations of the millions of people with us in this hall today.

If we falter, the most vulnerable pay the highest price—the young men and women who look to their future and see nothing; bewildered refugee mothers, clutching their children, with no place to call home; or anxious fathers who cannot find jobs to provide for their loved ones; and the many who feel sidelined, their identity under threat.

The defining feature of the past decade has been people finding their voices. Millions across the world have poured onto the streets, marched, occupied, sat down, sat in, tweeted, podcast, hashtagged what they want—loud and clear.

And they all want the same thing—a fair chance, a fighting chance.

Dear friends,

People around the world have voiced their desired destination, but are looking to us to guide them along the path; looking to us to foresee and prepare for the obstacles ahead.

This calls for several "what-if" questions.

And these questions are not merely a whimsical or theoretical exercise, especially in my region, where worst-case scenarios do not lay comfortably within the realm of the hypothetical, but often wander too closely to the borders of our reality. Furthermore, what happens in the Middle East has a way of making itself felt everywhere around the world.

So, let me start with our region’s deepest wound. What if the world gives up on the two-state solution of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict?

Seventy-plus years of conflict have played havoc with hopes for justice. Today, one-staters are actively seeking to impose an unthinkable solution on the region and the world—one state, propped up by structural inequalities, with Palestinians as second-class subjects; one state, turning its back on its neighbourhood, perpetuating divisions among peoples and faiths worldwide.

Five years ago, I stood in this Chamber and spoke of the dangers of failing to move forward with peace. And today, I must say frankly that the dangers have grown—violence continues; settlement-building continues; disregard for international law continues.

I have said it countless times, and in countless ways, but I will say it again and again. A more peaceful world is not possible without a stable Middle East. And a stable Middle East is not possible without peace between the Palestinians and the Israelis.

What if Jerusalem, a city that is close to my heart personally and of great historic significance to my family, remains disputed? Can we afford to rob Christians and Muslims alike of the spirituality, peace, and coexistence that this city symbolises, and instead allow it to descend into political conflict?

Now, fast forward to the most recent standoff between the United States and Iran. What if, next time, neither side steps away from the brink, dragging us all towards untold chaos? An all-out war jeopardises the stability of the entire region. What's more, it risks massive disruptions of the entire global economy, including markets, but threatens a resurgence of terrorism across the world.

And I ask you another "what-if"; what if Iraq fails to realise the potential and aspirations of its people and slips back into an erratic, seventeen-year cycle of recovery and relapse, or worse yet, conflict?

Iraq is home to 12 per cent of the world’s proven oil reserves. But, more importantly, it is home to over 40 million people, who have suffered through four decades of war, crippling sanctions, occupation, sectarian conflict, and the terror of ISIS. Today, their future rests on a fragile peace. And I, for one, will not abandon our brothers and sisters there.

Now, what if Syria remains hostage to global rivalries and spirals back into civil conflict? What if we see a re-emergence of ISIS, and Syria becomes a staging ground for attacks against the rest of the world?

Syria may be out of the headlines, with its suffering out of sight and out of mind, but the crisis is far from over. Over the past nine months, more than half a million people have been displaced, many of them already refugees.

Do any of us, in this hall, want to see another Syrian refugee crisis unfold, with all its horror and heartbreak? Or another innocent child washed up on your shores?

I know I speak for everyone when I say, absolutely not.

And let me ask you, what if Libya collapses into an all-out war, and ultimately, a failed state? What if Libya is the new Syria, just much closer to the continent you all call home?

And let me say again, what if Arab governments fail to create the more than 60-million jobs our youth will need in the coming decade? And if we fail, wouldn't we in fact be creating a perfect setting for extremist groups? We make their job of recruitment easier if we leave behind a trail of vulnerability and hopelessness.

Can we afford to let the region’s young people live without hope?

My friends,

Let this reflection upon “what-if” scenarios be a productive exercise, one that can pre-empt countless tragedies and safeguard our people along their journey.

My faith in God reinforces my optimism and my belief in the strength and resilience of humanity. There is always a better and much more united version of us around every corner.

The Holy Quran teaches us that “Those who endure [in patience] and put their trust in their Lord” will enjoy the greatest rewards.

Patience is hard in a world that never seems to slow down, where people make split-second decisions and expect instantaneous results.

Leadership, however, demands the very opposite—reflection, wisdom, and the long view. More than ever, we need patient politics. Because we all have a responsibility to safeguard our people’s long-term interests and welfare; to react to rapidly unfolding events with measured responses, not knee-jerk reactions; because politics is not a game where the fastest win. Sometimes, the faster we go, the farther away we end up from the finish line.

My father, the late King Hussein, taught me that peace making is always the harder but the higher path. And a tough road is best walked with our friends, friends like you and the people of Europe, so that together, we can reach the future that both our peoples aspire for, and that they and our whole world deserve.

Thank you very much.”

#King Abdullah II

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pamphletstoinspire · 4 years

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Feast of Corpus Christi - June 14, 2020

This Feast of the Sacred Body of Our Divine Lord is celebrated in the Latin Church on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday to solemnly commemorate the Institution of the Sacrament of Holy Eucharist. This great event is also commemorated on Maundy Thursday, mentioned as Natalia Calicis (Birth of the Chalice) in the Calendar of Polemius (448) for the 24th of March, the 25th of March being recognized in some places as the day of the Death of Christ. This day, however, occurs in Holy Week, a season of sadness, during which the minds of the faithful are expected to be occupied with thoughts of Our Lord's Passion. Moreover, so many other mysteries relative to the Passion are commemorated on this day that the principal event, the Institution of the Holy Eucharist, is deserving of a particular festival. This is mentioned as the chief reason for introducing the feast of Corpus Christi in the Papal Bull Transiturus.

The instrument in the hand of Divine Providence was St. Juliana of Mont Cornillon, in Belgium. She was born in 1203 at Retinnes near Liège. Orphaned at an early age, she was educated by the Augustinian nuns of Mont Cornillon. In time she made her religious profession and later became Superior. Intrigues and persecutions of various kinds drove her from her own convent several times. She died on the fifth of April, 1258, at the House of the Cistercian nuns at Fosses, and was buried at Villiers.

From her early youth, Sr. Juliana had a great veneration for the Blessed Sacrament, and always longed for a special feast in Its honor. This holy desire was given further impetus by an authentic vision which she was shown of the Church, whose liturgical cycle appeared as an almost-full moon, yet having one dark void, signifying the absence of such a solemnity. She humbly submitted this revelation to Msgr. Robert de Thorete, then Bishop of Liège; to the learned Dominican Hugh, later Cardinal Legate in the Netherlands; and finally to Jacques Pantaléon, at that time Archdeacon of Liège, who afterwards was successively made the Bishop of Verdun, Patriarch of Jerusalem (after the First Crusade), and finally elected to the Papacy as Urban IV. Bishop Robert was favorably inclined to promote a greater devotion to our Eucharistic King. Since bishops had the right of ordering feasts for their respective jurisdictions, he called a synod in 1246, and ordered the celebration to be held in the following year; also, that a monk whose name was John should write the special Office for the occasion. The episcopal decree is still preserved in Binterim (Denkwürdigkeiten, V, 1, 276), together with parts of the Office. The pious Bishop did not live to see the fulfillment of his command, for he died on October 16, 1246. Nevertheless, the feast was celebrated for the first time by the obedient canons of the Cathedral of St. Martin at Liège.

Meanwhile, the Patriarch of Jerusalem, Jacques Pantaléon, was elected Pope on August 29, 1261. There was at that time in Liège a devout recluse in whom St. Juliana had inspired a fervent devotion of the Holy Eucharist, who spent her time in adoration of Our Divine Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. She besought the Bishop of Liège, Heinrich of Guelders, to request the Sovereign Pontiff to extend this beautiful celebration to the entire Catholic world. Pope Urban IV, who had long cherished a fervent devotion for the feast of Corpus Christi, granted the petition on September 8, 1264, by publishing the Bull Transiturus. Having extolled the love of Our Savior manifested in the Holy Eucharist, he ordered the annual celebration of Corpus Christi on the Thursday following Trinity Sunday, and at the same time granted many Indulgences to the faithful for the attendance at Mass and at the Office. This Office, composed at the request of the Pope by the Angelic Doctor St. Thomas Aquinas, is one of the most beautiful in the Roman Breviary, and has been admired not only for its wonderful devotion, but also for its literary excellence.

The death of Pope Urban IV on October 2, 1264, shortly after the publication of the decree, somewhat impeded the spread of the new feast. But Pope Clement V again took the matter in hand, and at the General Council of Vienne (1311), took measures to implement the feast of Corpus Christi. His new decree embodied that of Pope Urban IV, and his successor, Pope John XXII (of Sabbatine Privilege fame) also urged its observance. The Procession of the Blessed Sacrament, which was already held in some places, was endowed with rich indulgences by Popes Martin V and Eugene IV. The pious Bishops of the German Empire were the first to accomplish a uniform observance of the new feast (instituted at Köln in 1306, at Worms in 1315, and in Strasbourg in 1316). In England it was introduced from the continent between 1320 and 1325.

Feast of Corpus Christi

by Fr. Francis Xavier Weninger, 1877

The same reason which caused the Festival of the Holy Trinity, induced the Catholic Church to institute the festival of Corpus Christi, which we celebrate today. She requires that we shall confess and renew today the faith which we have in the Blessed Eucharist, and that we bestow all possible honors upon the Most Holy Sacrament and give due thanks to our Saviour for its institution. In order that this just requirement of the Church may be more fully complied with, we shall here give some explanation of the above reasons. In regard to the first reason, the following are the facts, which the church especially desires to call to our memory by this joyous festival. Our dear Saviour, on the same evening when His bitter suffering for the redemption of man began, instituted the Blessed Eucharist, out of His immeasurable love for us. In it He is truly and substantially present with body and soul, with flesh and blood, as God and Man, under the form of bread and wine. Under the form of bread, not only His holy body, but also His holy blood is present; because a living body cannot exist without blood. Hence he receives it, who partakes of holy communion only in the form of bread, not less than he who receives it in two forms, as the priests, when they say holy Mass. The latter partake of holy communion under two forms, in order that the passion and death of our Saviour, during which His blood flowed from His wounds, might be more vividly represented.

From the moment that the priest speaks the prescribed holy words, in the name of Christ, over the bread and wine, the Lord is present in the Holy Sacrament. Bread and wine change their substance miraculously into the true body and blood of the Saviour, in such a manner, that all that remains of the bread and wine is their form, color and taste. The presence of Christ lasts so long as the bread and the wine are unconsumed. It is further to be considered that our Lord is present in a small host as well as in a large one, as well in a portion of a host as in a whole one. Hence he who receives an entire host, has no more than he who receives only a part of one, the latter has just as much as the former. The same is the case with those who by inadvertence receive more than one Host, while others receive only one. It is only to be remarked that in case a consecrated Host is broken or divided, the holy body of the Saviour is not broken nor divided, but the form of the bread only: even as Christ will not again die, so his holy body can neither be broken nor divided. All these points are articles of faith in the Catholic Church, and are explained in sermons, in religious instructions and in many books, and are especially demonstrated by the word of God. All true Catholics believe this without any doubt, as the Almighty, who is eternal and infallible truth, has revealed it, and as that Church assures us, which on account of the assistance of the Holy Ghost, promised to her by Christ, cannot err.

Those who are not Catholics teach in many points quite differently. They especially reject the real presence of Christ in the form of bread and wine, and also the transubstantiation of these latter into the real body and blood of the Lord. They maintain it to be impossible that bread and wine can be changed into the body and blood of Christ, or that Christ can be really present at the same time, in so many different places, in so small a compass as the holy Host. If we ask them why they consider it impossible, they answer: “because we cannot conceive, cannot comprehend, how it can be possible.” But if they believe impossible all which they cannot understand, they must, besides many other articles of faith, reject the creation of the world; the humanity and resurrection of Christ; the Holy Trinity; because all these are just as inconceivable for the mind of man, as the transubstantiation of the bread and wine and the substantial presence of the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. It matters not in articles of faith whether we are able to comprehend them or not so long as they are revealed by God.

That which the Almighty has revealed must be true, whether I can understand it or not: for He is omniscient, hence infallible, and cannot be deceived, while our understanding can as easily be deceived as our senses. God is truth: therefore can not deceive. He is omnipotent; hence He can do more than the human mind can comprehend. “With God all things are possible,” said Christ Himself. “Let us admit that God can do more than we are able to fathom,” says St. Augustine, while St. Cyril of Alexandria writes; “The Lord says by the prophet Isaias: ‘My counsel is not like yours, neither are my ways like your ways: for as the heaven is above the earth, so are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts.' Cannot therefore the works of Him, who stands so high above us in wisdom and power, exceed in their greatness the limits of our understanding?”

The same is taught by all the Holy Fathers. They also refer to many occurrences in nature, which, although we cannot comprehend them, nevertheless take place. They speak of the creation of the world, and say, if we believe that God created a whole world out of nothing, how can we hesitate to believe that He can change bread and wine, or that He can be present in that form? The water at Cana was changed into wine: why then should He not possess the power to transform bread and wine into His holy body and blood? Truly, whoever believes that God is omnipotent, infallible and infinite, cannot doubt this article of faith. We Catholics believe so, and hence we cannot doubt any of the above mentioned points of the true faith. This faith we this day renew and confess publicly. The Catholic Church requires it, and has for this reason instituted today's Festival. She further demands that we unanimously, bestow today all possible honor upon the Blessed Sacrament, and that we praise and glorify with all the powers of our soul, the Saviour therein concealed. And is not this justly demanded of us? of us who firmly believe that our Lord is present in His double nature as God and as man, in the Blessed Sacrament? All honor, all praise belongs to the true God.

King David, in the Old Testament, bestowed great honor upon the Ark of the Covenant, in which a part of the manna was preserved, as Holy Writ relates. The manna of the Old Testament was only a feeble type of our Most Holy Sacrament, as Christ Himself teaches: hence we owe so much greater honor to it. The wise man said, many thousand years ago: “Glorify the Lord, as much as you can . . . Bless ye the Lord, exalt Him as much as you can.” (Eccl. xliii.) As we are assured by our faith that our God and Lord is truly and substantially present in the Blessed Sacrament, it is natural that we honor, praise and glorify Him with all our strength. We are bound to do this not merely today, but during the whole year. Who is there, however, that can say of himself that he has not sometimes been remiss in this sacred duty? Hence the Holy Church requires that we, remembering our duty this day, kindle anew our zeal, if it has abated, and thus with united hearts, honor, praise and exalt the Most Holy Sacrament. For this purpose she has also ordained that the Blessed Sacrament shall be carried through the streets in solemn processions.

Everything connected with this ceremony is intended to honor our Lord in every possible manner. The Church tries, by this public manifestation, to atone somewhat for the many and great wrongs to which the Blessed Sacrament is so frequently subjected by heretics as well as by Catholics. One cannot, without horror, think how this sacred mystery has been assailed and dishonored in centuries gone by, and down to our days. A pious Christian dares not even relate the wrongs done to it, which are great enough to deserve hell. And what does our Saviour, concealed in the Blessed Sacrament, suffer from those who believe in his presence? The irreverence and levity with which many Christians conduct themselves in presence of the Blessed Eucharist, tend to dishonor and disgrace our Saviour. The unworthy communions which unhappily take place, offend Him in a most grievous manner. The misuse of the body, especially of the tongue and mouth, which are so often sanctified by partaking of the true body and blood of Christ, cannot but excite the wrath of the Lord. For these, as well as other wrongs done to the Blessed Sacrament, the Church of Christ seeks to make amends by these solemn processions, and by all the other pious exercises she has ordained for this festival and during the whole octave. Hence, every pious Christian should be solicitous to conform to the ordinances of the Church, and not only assist in the procession and all other devout exercises, but also endeavour to contribute to render them what the Church desires.

Those who are not Catholics disapprove of every thing that we do today in honor of the blessed Sacrament, and accuse us of idolatry, as we according to them, worship bread. They say also that all that we do in this regard cannot be agreeable to God, because it was not ordained by Him. We, Catholics, are, however, not disturbed by this, for we know that we do not worship bread, but Him whom three wise men worshipped in the manger, namely, Jesus Christ, true God and Man. We know also that though what we do this day in honor of the blessed Sacrament is not especially and expressly ordained in Holy Writ, still we are assured that a voluntary worship of it is in accordance with reason and the laws of God, pleasing and agreeable to His Majesty. And this is made clear to us from the above-mentioned example of the three Wise Men, and from the acts with which King David honored the Most High, on the solemn return of the Ark of the Covenant; not to mention that Christ gave us a general command to worship God, in the words: “The Lord thy God shalt thou adore and him only shalt thou serve.” (Matth. iv.) This command we fulfil today by our actions, as they all aim at one end, namely, the honor of the Lord, who is concealed in the Blessed Sacrament. The more we are blamed and derided by the heretics for our adoration of the Holy Eucharist, the more fervent should we become in our zeal. When King David was derided by Michol, on account of his devotion at the return of the Ark of the Covenant, he said: “Before the Lord who chose me . . . . I will both play and make myself meaner than I have done, and I will be little in my own eyes.” (II. Kings vi.)

We will still add in a few words, what the true Church further demands of us. We today give humble thanks to the Lord for the institution of the Blessed Eucharist. This is no more than our duty: for if we are obliged to thank God for the smallest benefit He confers upon us, we are surely under much greater obligation when the benefit is great and of especial importance. Who can tell, who can comprehend the greatness of the benefit, which Christ our Saviour and Lord bestowed upon us by the institution of the Blessed Eucharist. It is as great as it is unfathomable: great as He who devised it; as Christ our Lord, true God and man, the King of all Kings, the Lord of all who reign. Great and inconceivable is the miracle by which the substance of bread and wine is changed into the substance of the body and blood of Christ, and the miraculous presence of the Lord in the form of bread and wine. St. Thomas of Aquin calls the Blessed Sacrament a miracle, and the greatest that Christ ever wrought.

Inexpressibly great must have been the love which induced the Saviour not only to institute it at the time He chose for it, namely, the evening before His Passion. Since the world was created, there has never been found a parent willing to nourish his children with his own body, much as he may have loved them. Such excess of love Christ alone manifested. “Having loved His own, He loved them unto the end,” writes St. John (John, xiii.). Already had He loved them and had given them many indubitable proofs of His love; but at the end of His life, He gave them one which surpassed all others, namely, having nourished them with His own body and blood, He instituted a sacrament, by means of which all the faithful might partake of this divine food. And when did He institute this? St. Paul writes: “In the night when He was delivered into the hands of the embittered Jews.” The last night of His life was approaching, and the time when his enemies would seize Him, scourge Him most cruelly, crown Him with thorns, and nail Him like the greatest malefactor to the Cross. All this was known to the Lord. He knew also the wrong which would be done to Him in the Blessed Eucharist to the end of time: and yet this was not sufficient to prevent Him from instituting it.

Truly, a love which surpasses all the bounds, not only of human, but angelic understanding. Love seeks to be always with the loved ones and to enjoy their presence. Jesus Christ, who out of love to us had descended from heaven upon earth, had remained with us for 33 years: and it was the will of His heavenly Father that, after having accomplished our Redemption, He should return to heaven. This also took place; but His infinite love for us found a means by which He will remain with us in the world until the end of time. This means is the Blessed Sacrament, which He instituted before the commencement of His bitter passion. In it He is God and Man, as He is in heaven, truly and substantially present in every Church where the Blessed Sacrament is kept. By this same blessed Sacrament, He unites Himself most closely with us, when we partake of it, because He gives Himself to us as food, and nourishment. And this union with us is, according to the opinion of the Holy Fathers, a still greater proof of His love for us, than His presence in the Sacrament. It is the property of love to unite closely those who love one another: can there be a more intimate union than ours is with Christ, by virtue of the Holy Sacrament?

When Christ became man, He united His divine nature, in an incomprehensible manner, with humanity. When we partake of the Blessed Eucharist, He unites His divine and human natures with our nature, although not in the same manner as when He became Man. “He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood,” says He, “abideth in me, and I in him.” (John, vi.) How wonderful a union! How incomprehensibly great a love!

Besides the love which induced our Lord to institute the Most Holy Sacrament, the end for which He instituted it, and with which we have already become partly acquainted, is also great and most excellent. Our adorable Saviour would leave us in it an eternal memorial of His love and of His bitter passion and death, as His own words make clear to us: “Do this for a commemoration of me.” (Luke, xxn.) He desired to remain constantly with us, in order that we might, in all our cares, go to Him with greater confidence, and opening our hearts to Him, request and receive from Him, comfort, strength and help. It was His wish that His holy flesh and blood should nourish and strengthen our souls. This was the intention, the end and aim of our Lord in instituting the Most Holy Eucharist. As the religion He founded is holy and most perfect, and as no true religion can exist without sacrifice, He would leave us for evermore the most divine sacrifice, namely, His own flesh and blood that we might sacrifice it in holy Mass in honor of the Majesty of God, as a thanks-offering for all graces and benefits bestowed upon us; for the pardon of our sins, for the obtaining of new grace, and for the comfort of all, living and dead. How high, how admirable an end and aim! Had Christ been willing to remain among us, in the Blessed Eucharist, only in one place on earth, in order that we might there lay our burdens more trustingly at His feet, He would then have conferred on us a favor, which we could never sufficiently esteem, and for which we could never be sufficiently thankful. How much greater, therefore, is the grace that He dwells among us in so many different places of the world, to nourish our souls and to serve as sacrifice, and this not once only, but as often as we desire. How inexpressibly great a favor! How wonderful an invention of truly Divine love!

Just as great and excellent are the results of the Blessed Sacrament. Our Lord expressed it all in a few words when He said: “If any man eat of this bread, he shall live forever.” (John, vi.) Which means: Whoever worthily partakes of this holy Sacrament, shall receive the special grace of God to preserve the life of his soul, or to remain in the sanctifying grace of God, and hence obtain life everlasting. By virtue of this Sacrament, man receives strength to abstain from sin, to resist temptation and to serve the Most High with constant fidelity. Therefore it is called by the Council of Trent, a medicine, by the strength of which we are freed from our daily iniquities, and protected and guarded against great crimes. “This divine mystery,” says Albert the Great, “strengthens man in grace and succors him when he is in danger of committing sin.” The pious Thomas a Kempis writes: “This most holy and venerable Sacrament conduces to the well-being of body and soul. It is the remedy for spiritual weakness. It heals the wounds of vice, it keeps within bounds all evil inclination, it conquers temptations, gives more abundance of grace, multiplies virtue, strengthens faith, augments hope, and inflames love.”

Other teachers say, that Christ instituted the Blessed Sacrament under the form of a bodily food, that we might more easily perceive its effects. For, as bodily food preserves the life of the body, renews strength, refreshes man: thus is the spiritual life of the soul preserved by the holy Eucharist, the soul is strengthened, and all the inner faculties of man inflamed with new zeal in the service of the Almighty. The true Church has not hesitated, for causes already mentioned, to call it a pledge of future glory, so that those who worthily partake of Holy Communion, receive, so to speak, an assurance of eternal salvation. I say, who partake worthily of the Holy Communion; for, one who receives it when not in the state of grace, will not only fail to share in the benefits it imparts, but becomes guilty of eternal punishment, according to the words of St. Paul: “For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh judgment to himself” (i Cor. xi.) that is, as St. Chrysostom and other holy fathers teach, damnation.

Whoever reflects on what we have said, cannot but come to the conclusion, that the Lord, by instituting the Blessed Eucharist, has bestowed upon us an inexpressibly great gift. Hence, it is only our duty to give Him our most humble thanks, to which effect the Church has ordained today's festival, demanding of us to give thanks to the Lord for the institution of this Blessed Gift.

So much for the reason which gave rise to the ordinance of the festival of Corpus Christi. Only one point must I yet touch upon, to confirm the true faith and at the same time give an instruction. The non-Catholics maintain that we act wrongly in not administering the Blessed Sacrament in two forms, as Christ our Lord instituted it and commanded it to be partaken of in such a manner. To this I answer, Luther himself more than once said that the real Blessed Eucharist was to be found in the Catholic Church; and that it mattered not whether it is administered under one form or under two. It is true that Christ instituted it in two forms, but that He commands all to receive it in two forms is false. From the act of the institution of the Eucharist this cannot be proved: for, Christ instituted and adminstered it after washing his disciples' feet. He gave it only to the men, the strong, and this after they had partaken of supper, and yet the non-Catholics do not say that it is a commandment to wash the feet before Holy Communion, or administer it only to men, the strong, and after supper. The non-Catholics may rest assured that we are more favored when we partake of Holy Communion in one form than they, even if they received it in a hundred: for we receive under one form really the flesh and blood of Christ, while they, under two forms, neither partake of the Saviour's holy flesh nor of His blood, because they possess no priests to whom Christ gave power to consecrate.

Feast of Corpus Christi

by Abbot Gueranger

The sun has risen in his splendor, while the sweet chants of the sanctuary have been greeting the coming of the divine Orient. The appointed ministers of the sacred psalmody have been giving, in the name of the whole world, the solemn tribute of Lauds to God the Creator and Redeemer; and now that the king of day is up, we behold a very busy scene outside the precincts of the holy place: the children of men are all intent on a work, in which neither the desire of lucre, nor the thirst for pleasure, have any share. Tidings of salvation have been heard; the voice of rejoicing is in the tabernacles of the just: “God is preparing to visit His creatures; Emmanuel, Who is present in the Sacred Host, is about to go forth from His sanctuary; He is coming into your cities and your fields, to hold court in your green forests; the Lord God hath shone upon you, He hath appointed this solemn day; prepare His throne with shady boughs, and cover the way to the horn of the altar with flowers!” (Psalms)

This announcement has excited a holy enthusiasm in the souls of men. For several previous days, many a faithful heart has had something of the feeling which animated David, when he vowed his vow to the God of Jacob: “I will not enter into the tabernacle of my house, I will not go up into the bed wherein I lie, I will not give sleep to mine eyes, or rest to my temples, until I find out a place for the Lord, and a tabernacle for the God of Jacob” (Ps. 131: 3-5). O beautiful resting-places where are to stand the feet of the King of peace! Short-lived but exquisite designs! The product of that sacred poetry which comes from the supernatural love of the Christian! We see them today, save where cold heresy has come to keep man from being too earnest in his worship of his Savior! On every truly Catholic heart, even on some who, at all other times, seem to be out of the influence of grace, the Mystery of Faith makes its power tell; and many a wife, and daughter, and sister, who have seen the other feasts of the year of grace pass by and produce no effect on those dear to them, on this bright morning have beheld them all busy in preparing decorations for the triumphant procession of Emmanuel (Whom they have so long neglected to receive), and spending themselves in getting the best of everything they can give, or procure, for the God Who is so soon to pass by that way, and, passing, to give these dear ones the blessing of a conversion! It is the wakening up of the Faith of their Baptism; it is the grace of the Sacrament of Love working at a distance; a grace of a reminder of other and happier days, of First Communion perhaps; and when Jesus passes through the crowd, He will look at them, and they shall remember, and shall be converted to the Lord (Ps. 21: 28).

The grand Feast has, at length, dawned upon us; and everything is speaking of the triumph of faith and love. During the Feast of the Ascension, when commenting on these words of Our Lord: “It is expedient to you that I go” (John 16: 7), we were saying that the withdrawal of the visible presence of the Man-God from the eyes of men on earth, would bring among them, by the vivid operation of the Holy Ghost, a plenitude of light and a warmth of love which they had not had for Jesus, during His mortal life among them; the only creature that had rendered to Him, in Her single self, the whole of those duties which the Church afterwards paid Him, was Mary, who was illumined with Faith.

In his exquisite hymn, Adore Te Devote, St. Thomas Aquinas says: “On the Cross the Divinity alone was hid; but here the Humanity, too, is hid;” and yet, on no day of the year is the Church more triumphant, or more demonstrative, than She is upon this Feast. Heaven is all radiant; our earth has clad herself with her best, that she may do homage to Him, Who has said: “I am the Flower of the fields, and the Lily of the valleys” (Cant. 2: 1). Holy Church is not satisfied with having prepared a throne whereon, during the whole of this Octave, the Sacred Host is to receive the adorations of the faithful; She has decreed that these days of solemn and loving exposition be preceded by the pageant of a triumph. Not satisfied today with elevating the Bread of Life immediately after the Consecration, She will carry It beyond the precincts of Her churches, amidst clouds of incense, and on paths strewn with flowers; and Her children, on bended knee, will adore, under heaven's vaulted canopy, Him Who is their King and their God.

Those joys, which each separate solemnity of the year brought us, seem to come back upon us, all of them at once, today. The royal prophet had foretold this, when he said: “He (the Lord) hath made a remembrance of His wonderful works: He hath given Food to them that fear Him” (Ps. 110, 4-5). Holy Church is filled with enthusiasm, holding in Her arms that Divine Spouse, Who said: “Behold! I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world” (Matt. 28: 20). Nothing could be more formal; and the promise has been faithfully kept. It is true, we beheld Him ascending from Mount Olivet; He went up into Heaven, and there He sitteth at His Father's right hand: but ever since the memorable day of Pentecost, when the Holy Ghost took possession of the Church, the sacred mystery of the Last Supper has been celebrated, in virtue of those words spoken by Jesus: Do this in remembrance of Me; and from that day forward, the human race has never been deprived of the presence of its Head and its Redeemer. No wonder, therefore, that Holy Mother Church, possessing, as She does, the Word, the Son of God, is suddenly filled with wisdom. The Sacramental Species, it is true, are there shrouding the mystery; but they are only existing for the purpose of leading into the invisible…”

[These are the last words written for this work by Abbot Prosper Louis Pascal Gueranger. He was on the point of completing this section of The Liturgical Year, when death came upon him on January 30, 1875.]

#corpus christi

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godsheadangel · 4 years

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EARLY THURSDAY AFTERNOON BEFORE MY SHOOT'EM UP GUNSMOKE CAME ON THEY [DID COME FOURTH] IN HEAVENLY💫LIVE REALITY [PLAYING HARD AND ROUGH] AS ONE UNIT THESE VERY POWERFUL ANGELS UNDER THE COVERS [PLAYING ⛺ TENT] THEY LAUGHED AND ENJOYED EACH OTHER [ONE CONTROLLED AS THE LEADER] THEN SO DID THE OTHER AND THAT'S WHAT OUR THREE BATTLE ANGEL😇PRINCE SONS👑 STEVEN💪MARC💪AND CHAD💪DID ON A BEAUTIFUL THURSDAY INSIDE MY MIND AND MYANGELWIFE💕VANESSA👑SHOULD KNOW THEY DIDN'T HESITATE TO SHARE!!! NO DOUBT WE'RE BLESSED TO HAVE THEM WATCHING OVER US FROM HOLY💫HEAVEN

THE [HARD REAL REALITY] OF HAVING SUCH A BEAUTIFUL 💜ANGELQUEENWIFE💜LIKE PRISCILLASWEETZ💗[IS TRULY KNOWING] THAT WHEN OUR VERY POWERFUL LITTLE BABYANGELS😇COME THROUGH IN SPIRIT THEY COME THROUGH [VERY DETERMINED] LIKE THURSDAY AFTERNOON WHEN MY GUNSMOKE WAS ON, OUR VERY BEAUTIFUL ROYAL💜ANGEL PRINCESS DAUGHTERS👑 CHRISTINE💗AND MADDIE💗MADE SURE THAT GUNSMOKE WAS NOT A OPTION FOR ME, AS THEY PLAYED TOGETHER [AS ONE] TEAM MAKING ME FEEL EXTREMELY GOOD KNOWING THEY WILL ALWAYS GET ALONG VERY WELL TOGETHER! DON'T EVER THINK THAT OUR BLESSED✝ GIRLS💗DON'T LIKE TOO SET UP A COVER AND [PLAY TENT⛺] EVEN THOUGH [THEIRS WAS SEPARATE] FROM OUR BATTLE ANGEL SONS💪 THEIRS WAS JUST AS BIG AND ENJOYABLE!!! MY SEXYASS💕ANGELMAMI💕PRISCILLA👑 SHOULD KNOWS [THEY INHERITED] NOT ONLY HER💕ANGELIC💫BEAUTY BUT ALSO HER💕GIFT🎁 TO COMMUNICATE VERY WELL!!!

AT 2:57AM🌌EARLY THIS MORNING! THEY DID SO COME THROUGH [HARD] IN SPIRIT✝ CONNECTING INSIDE MY ANGELPAPPI👑MIND FOR SURELY I AM HARD TO REACH BY ANYONE WHEN I AM DEEP IN HOLY💫SPIRIT BUT [DESIRING TO COMMUNICATE] THEIR [HEAVENLY💫POWER] AND SHOW WHAT THEY COULD DO [TOGETHER AS ONE] ALL 3 OF OUR VERY BEAUTIFUL ROYAL💜ANGEL PRINCESS TRIPLET DAUGHTERS💜💜💜SANDIA💗SELINA💗AND SEARRA💗TRULY DISPLAYED LOVE💕AND AFFECTION💕 FOR EACH OTHER AS THEY REPRESENTED THEIR ANGELMAMI💕SANDRA💗VERY, VERY WELL TRULY, THEY'VE INHERITED HER💕BEAUTY HER💕SMILE AND AWESOME ABILITY TO ALWAYS FOCUS!!!

IT WAS 4:11AM🌌AND I THOUGHT AS USUAL A NICE HOT🔥 CUP OF COFFEE☕WOULD SO [START MY DAY] OF RIGHT BUT OUR VERY POWERFUL LITTLE ROYAL💜ANGEL TWIN PRINCESS💗💗DAUGHTERS👑 SO NAMED LONG AGO GIGI💗AND GNORRA💗 CAME THROUGH WITH A VERY [HARD] SPIRITUAL CONNECTION SHOWING ME, THEIR CRAZY ANGELPAPPI👑THAT THEY CAN MAKE A [BEAUTIFUL COVER TENT⛺] TO MOVE AROUND IN!!! THEY BOTH MADE ME A TRUE [DADDY BELIEVER] IN FEMALE POWER AS THEY [DANCED STRONGLY] AND SHOWED MOVES THAT WOULD THEIR MESMERIZING ANGELMAMI💕GABBY💗 AND ME PROUD!!! SURELY, I'M [BEYOND VERY BLESSED✝] TO HAVE ANGELPRINCESS😇DAUGHTERS💜 SMART, STRONG AND BEAUTIFUL A GIFT🎁 FROM MY BLESSED✝ ANGELQUEENWIFE👑

😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇

WHEN THE HOLY💫SPIRIT✝ [MOVES DEEPLY] AND [PROVIDES LIVE HEAVENLY REALITY] IT IS TRULY [A PLEASURE TO BEHOLD] SEEING AND FEELING THE THINGS WE DO AS OUR ANGEL😇CHILDREN PROVIDE SO MUCH JOY WE ARE SO GRATEFUL TO OUR👁GOD💫FOR ALLOWING OUR BABYANGELS😇TO COME FORWARD! [I DO NOT EVER] CALL OUT TOO THEM THEY CHOOSE TOO COME FORWARD AND HE✝ LETS THEM! I DO NOT DICTATE WHO COMES THROUGH AND MYQUEENS💜KNOW THIS, SOME OF OUR BABYANGELS😇ARE EARLY RISERS!!! MANY OF THEM ARE SLEEPYHEADS💤

THE WORLD CAN TELL BY NOW THAT SOME OF MYANGELWIVES👑SHALL SO BIRTH👣BABYANGEL😇EARLY RISERS BECAUSE THEY HAVE BEEN MENTIONED MANY TIMES

JENNIFER LOPEZ👑 ROBIN MEADE👑

NIKI MINAJ👑 RIHANNA👑 OPRAH👑

HARRIS FAULKNER👑MYA HARRISON👑

JENNIFER WESTHOVEN👑 GAYLE KING👑

AINSLEY EARHARDT👑HADLEY GAMBLE👑

HADLEY GAMBLE👑 KAREN TSO👑

LOUISA BOJESEN👑 SUE HERERA👑

JULIA BOORSTIN👑 MORGAN BRENNAN👑

SEEMA MODY👑STEPHANIE RUHLE👑

STEPHANIE SANTIAGO👑BRITTANYA187👑

LALOVETHEBOSS👑 BRITTANY RENNER👑

KRISTENLIVE👑 KISSEDBYKENDRA👑

SANDRA SMITH👑 KELLITA SMITH👑

DAGEN MCDOWELL👑CHERYL CASCONE👑

MARIA BARTIROMO👑SHARON TAY👑

REBECCA QUICK👑 CYNTHIAAMARTELL👑

LALA VASQUEZ👑 YOLLIE MONROE👑

LESLIE SYKES👑 PAT HARVEY👑

KHLOE KARDASHIAN👑 HALLIE JACKSON👑

LIBERTE CHAN👑KIMI EVANS👑

JULIE BANDERAS👑 NICOLE CONTRERAS👑

LISA SALTERS👑 PAM OLIVER👑

JOSINA ANDERSON👑 JAIME MAGGIO👑

BEYONCE👑 ANITRIA D. GLASS👑

LU PARKER👑 COURTNEY FRIEL👑

ROSIE PEREZ👑 MSLUPERAMOS👑

MELISSA FRANCIS👑 ROMI CHASE👑

DEMITERIA OBILOR👑CAROLINECAKES👑

MSBAILEYE👑 XOMISSCECI👑MYAHSKYE👑

SOPHIESSELFIES224👑XBELLAOX👑

VALERIA_ORSINI👑 VANESSAMFIT👑

VANESSA WILLIAMS👑JARAH MARIANO👑

JESSICAKILLINGS👑💕CHRIS JANSING👑💕

KELLI TENNANT👑💕HALLIE JACKSON👑💕

LAURADAMORE👑💕CAROLINEZALOG👑💕

👉👉👉👉JUST TO NAME A FEW👈👈👈👈 ALL MYWIVES WEAR THATANGELICLOOK💫

WHEN OUR BABYANGELS😇DECIDE TOO COME FORWARD THEY DO!!! THE ENTIRE WORLD🌍 HAS SEEN BABYANGEL NAMES OF MY QUEENS👑LISTED ABOVE!!! THEY, OUR BLESSED✝ LITTLE ONES COME INSIDE MY MIND JUST LIKE WHEN THEY ARE BORN THEY ARRIVE WHEN THEY WANT TOO!!!👣

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