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thegraypope · 6 years

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Chapter 3 - Short march

Chapter 3

After a few minutes of walking they had passed what Korra named ‘The Safe Zone’. This meant that they had to be careful; After the initial invasion and the Militia repelling the attacks there had been a barrier of strategic walls built and booby traps laid. The most predominant booby trap was the car bomb, a small charge was attached to the battery of the car and then connected to a proximity switch hidden on the body of the car. The next most common trap was pits of spikes built into opened man holes and covered in faeces and waste.

‘Hold on this corner.’ Jammer whispered to Pao, his hand went up and he repeated the order down the radio. Delphi and Kuren were up front and stopped at the corner. Everyone grouped on Delphi and Jammer spoke:

‘I’ll lead the way down here, this area is trapped up to your eyeballs.’

‘Mines?’ Sev muttered with disdain.

‘Sort of, Car bombs, spike pits covered in animal shit, spring loaded Javelin launchers. Pretty much anything we could turn into a weapon we did.’

‘That might prove a problem when it comes time.’ Pao said to everyone except Jammer.

‘when it comes time for what?’

‘I’ll fill you in when we get to our destination.’ He said cryptically.

‘Alright, I’ll have to do my best to concentrate on anything other than that then.’

‘do that.’ He seemed stern, unlike the man he had been up to that point.

‘the key is to stay away from the cars with the black spots sprayed on them, they’re the bombs.’

‘Thanks for the tip, Jammer.’ Sev said, in his heavy colonial accent.

‘Let’s roll out.’ Pao said

They crept slowly through the street, cars placed in the road and paths as a barrier, all of them with black spots.

Pao shouted back to Hammer head ‘Tread light back there, big man.’

‘You calling me fat, you bitch?’ Hammer head replied dryly.

At the end of the street the took a left onto a cleared street with barricades built at the end of alleyways and a heavily damaged spider tank sitting slumped against what used to be a bank, surrounded by alien dead.

‘That was the only Spider the Garrison here had and it went down in the first week of fighting, we have the tracked tanks dug into forward positions acting as close artillery.’ Jammer said to the group, like a tour guide.

‘How did they take it out, the dossier we read said they didn’t send any tanks here or air power for that matter.’ Kuren stared at the tank, inspecting every inch she could see from her distance.

‘They had rockets and suicide vests. It was a fucking mess out here.’ Jammer pointed at an abandoned café with heavy bullet holes in the frontage.

‘you were here when it happened?’ Kuren asked with a renewed respect.

‘Yeah, I was on the roof of that café sniping and covering a mortar squad up there too.’ Jammer replied dryly. ‘They attacked in three positions, this one, one down east a mile and the other west a mile. That’s how we drove the fuckers off.’

‘This is the first world we’ve seen where they’ve misjudged the human populace and been repelled so easily and quickly.’ Pao was enthralled by the tank too, along with everyone except Hammer Head.

‘I assure you it wasn’t easy, I’d have thought that tank would tell you enough.’ Jammer was defensive.

‘I meant no offence, I meant to say that, on other planets the aliens have attacked in overwhelming force. Every world attacked has seen huge battle fleets and equally sized armies deployed. Here though, they sent ten ships and committed all of them to Babel and sent only two thousand soldiers to attack here. They bombed the other city in the north so why not bomb here too, it would save the troops?’ Pao began to ramble.

‘I understand, just understand that a lot of my community died here.’ She was calm, offended but understanding.

They walked past the spider tank and down the road for several minutes until the reached abuilding surrounded by heavily damaged city buses, all peppered with bullet holes and burn marks. Jammer prised open the door on one of the buses and climbed up.

‘Through here, this is the building.’ She crouched slightly as she spoke to the squad on the pavement.

‘hammer Head, make us a hole.’ Pao ordered.

Hammer Head moved to the front of the bus Jammer was on and pushed it backward far enough to make a gap it could walk through.

‘Or you could do that.’ Jammer muttered to herself sarcastically.

She jogged a few yards to catch up with Sev and they walked up to the entrance of the building.

‘Was there much fighting here?’ Kuren asked, he eyes criss-crossing over the building and buses.

‘Not really, it was a night raid attack the day after the Spider tank went down. We had two heavy machine guns on the roofs of the buses, we moved them when we abandoned the tower.’ Jammer pulled out a key and played around with a lock that was underneath a steel guard which had been welded onto the heavy metal door.

‘Why was the tower abandoned?’ Pao asked.

‘We abandoned it so we could better defend the police station and bunker. We have plans to come back and man it full time, build I real fortification around the base.’

The lock opened and made a loud, metallic bang as it hit against the guard. Jammer swung open the door and flicked a switch on her assault rifle, turning on it’s torch. She swept the room with her light and made her way to the front desk. She hoisted herself up and leaned down, flicking a switch.

‘Let there be light.’ She rose up from her half lying position with her arms raised in the air, tube lights flickering to life around her. Everyone had entered the room now, with Pao and Sev locking it behind them from the inside.

Jammer directed them through to a set of stairs moving up the centre of the tower.

‘These are the stairs, there are no booby traps in the building and no settlers.’

‘Sev, you take the Lead, Hammer Head, you think you’ll be able to get up there any faster?’ Pao gave orders and questions in a relatively friendly tone and manner.

‘Aye sir.’ Sev chirped.

‘I would prefer to stay with the group, lieutenant, I don’t think I could make it to the top floor before you, at least not by any significance.’ The robot replied.

‘Fine by me, you take the back.’ Pao Ordered.

After a forty five minute trek to the top floor they arrive.

‘It’s locked.’ Sev called Back to Jammer and Pao.

‘I don’t have a key, just break it down.’ Jammer called back to him.

Sev saw a fire axe and opened the casing it was in. he hit at the hinges and handle of the door several times before the snapped and the door fell into the apartment.

The squad moved in, dust lay thick across every surface and floated in the undisturbed air. As they moved around Kuren and Delphi saw the window and marvelled at the panorama.

‘This is beautiful.’ Kuren muttered as she stood, jaw slightly agape and took in the grass planes and the distant mountain range.

‘I bet if those mountains weren’t there you’d be able to see the tower and the walls of Babel.’ Delphi’s voice had gone quiet, mouse like In her awe.

‘I don’t get it, didn’t you all come in from orbit on a thousand different worlds?’ Jammer asked.

‘That’s true but most of the worlds we drop into are so ravaged by battle that they just look like grey, brown meshes of steel and mud.’ Pao confided to Jammer.

Hammer Head stayed outside.

‘Isn’t he coming in?’ She asked, referring to the robot.

‘No, once we’ve swept in here, him and Sev are going to the roof to check the antenna arrays.’

‘Cool, I’ll go help.’

Jammer walked around to where Kuren and Delphi were setting up.

‘Need any help?’

‘We should be ok, could you check the other side?’ Delphi had a hand full of cable which was connected to a laptop one end and the other end was about to be plugged into a small satellite.

Jammer walked around the inside of the apartment, her eyes looking at the art on the walls and the different trophies placed on tables. She reached the opposite side of the apartment to Kuren and Delphi and saw the view of the great ocean, she hadn’t seen it from this angle before and she certainly hadn’t ever seen it without fishing boats in it.

Jammer rested her rifle on a table and took her crossbow and placed it next to the rifle. She looked around the room, a contented smile on her lips. She noticed a small tablet on a desk in the corner, sitting next to a desktop computer setup. She walked over and turned everything on, browsing over the content on the tablet while the computer boots up. She finds a folder called media and presses it. Inside there are subfolders, Movies, TV shows, Comics and novels. She taps on Comics and scrolls through until she sees something she likes the look of and pushes the icon. As the comic loads Sev shouts ‘Clear.’ Making Jammer jump and almost drop the tablet. She grabs the tablet and puts it back on the desk.

Pao walks over to Sev and tells him to go to the roof with Hamer Head. Sev nods and leaves the apartment.

‘Ok, Delph, You’re on me, we’re clearing the lower floors. You ok setting up with Jammer?’ Pao asks, his voice a mild shout from near the door of the apartment.

‘We’ll be fine, I’m nearly finished with the monitor so it’s simple from there.’ Kuren replied with a smile. The door closes behind Delphi and Pao. Jammer picks up her weapons and meanders over to Kuren.

‘What can I help with?’ Jammer asks, Coyly.

‘you can keep me company, I can do all this myself.’ She replied, he eyes never leaving the monitor and keyboard in front of her.’

‘Sure.’

‘So, where on this rock are you from, Jammer?’

‘I’m an islander by birth. I grew up on the biggest of the Khyber islands, I left them when I was twenty to move to the city.’

‘Why did you move?’

‘A couple of reasons, mostly because the only living to be made on the islands is farmer, fisherman or trapper. I guess I came looking for more than just the job though, I was looking for love and friends too.’

‘Did you find any of that?’

‘Yes and no, I found a good office job and I had a few flings but it never felt like enough.’

‘What happened then?’

‘Well, what happened than was that a huge crystal shaped battle ship landed a bunch of troops on the northern peninsular and they swept down until they reach Babel and then a small splinter group attacked Zion. We got forewarning of the attack and expected a bigger one due to the northern attacks. I’m glad we got the warning and were expecting more, otherwise we would be elbow deep in dead and not theirs.’

‘How did you come by the bow?’

‘Family trade was trapping, my dad used to take me out with a bow and we’d catch any pests trying to attack crops or livestock. This bow has been mine since I was, maybe, thirteen.’

Kuren stayed quiet for a second as she worked away.

‘What about you, where are you from?’ Jammer took the opportunity to ask.

‘I’m from a small town called Pike, similar to your island I guess. We were a mile and a half from Fort Pike so you either joined up at eighteen or you stayed in the town and trapped, farmed or policed. SO I took the military Route.’

‘What planet are you from?’ Jammer was enraptured.

‘Oh, I didn’t say, did i. I’m from Cornovii. Pike is around two hundred miles north of the Capitol city, Viroconium.’

‘I’ve never heard of Viroconium, I’ve heard some stuff about Cornovii, though. Whats it like there?’

‘Nothing special, rolling grass planes, Shit loads of hills around Pike, I know that. One massive Continent with thousands upon thousands of peripheral islands. Mountains are beautiful, I was stationed up in a base in the Vedica mountains, it was like waking in a dream.’

‘I’d like to visit.’ Jammer asked sincerely.

‘I wouldn’t, it’s so close to the FEBA that it’s surrounded by flotillas and the ground is covered in forts, camps, landing areas, air bases. Even the oceans have floating bases and shit built on them.’ Her eye brows raised.

‘Is all of Gamma-7 from Cornovii?’

‘I don’t think Delphi was born there but she grew up there for sure, she’s got the northern accent.’

‘I hadn’t noticed.’

‘everybody notices her accent, that and how small she is.’ Kuren giggled slightly.

‘I guess I don’t pay much mind to accents after I left the islands. I had the weird accent here in the city so I learnt to homogenize my voice like everyone else here.’ Jammer was more sincere than expected.

‘Why did you move to this city, anyway, why not Babel? Surely there are better opportunities there?’ Kuren placed the parts she was holding on the coffee table in front of her and pressed a power switch on the monitor and looked at Jammer.

‘I’m not sure, Zion always seemed like the choice that was right.’ Jammer had spaced out mildly, her face going straight and her gaze never meeting Kuren’s.

Kuren smiled ‘I know what you mean.’

The monitor flickered on and Kuren picked up a plastic keyboard and began typing.

‘Why do you have such an old computer, the one here is newer than that?’ Jammer asked in a slightly derogatory tone.

‘We get the dirt cheap shit in our military. we had to scavange Hammerhead’s repair parts, at present he is almost seventy five percent scavenged robot.’

‘So, why haven’t you upgraded your computer?’

‘Well, knowing that there is one here, I think we will.’ Kuren placed the keyboard down again and stood up. ‘Show me this other computer, honey.’

Jammer blushed ‘It’s this way, it looks like a holographic display with a modular box unit.’

‘Sounds perfect, let me at it.’

Jammer walked over to the computer desk, now fully booted up to a login screen. ‘Oh, shit can you get passed the login?’

‘Piece of piss, my little friend here will open it up like a whore’s legs.’ Kuren waved a short purple stick and placed it into the computer’s input drive. The screen turned into a Black and white text prompt and she typed ‘Military override sequence, delete all local data’ and pressed the ENTER key on the keyboard. The holographic display flickered and a logo appeared in the centre of the screen, spinning as a progress bar below it slowly filled.

‘Hey, I never asked, how did you get past the alien flotilla, everything we heard they have this place buttoned up tight?’ Jammer asked casually.

‘We were deployed from a prototype refitted gun boat. It dropped out of warp in the high atmosphere, shit the five of us out and warped back to the fleet rendezvous near Calisto.’ Kuren was casual in her response.

The computer flickered to a desk top and Kuren touched her throat mic ‘Computer is up and running. Oh, our new best friend Jammer gave us an upgrade.’

‘Thank you, I knew I liked you, sweet girl.’ Sev’s voice throated through the radio.

‘Don’t mention It, I’m here to help.’ She replied.

‘We’re another five minutes from ready, hold onto your butts ‘til then, ok?’ Sev chirped.

��So is he really kind and nice or is he like a big grizzly bear like he seems?’ Jammer asked, coyly.

‘can’t he be both?’ Kuren winked.

They walked the computer over to the table where the old unit was and sat the new computer next to it.

Kuren lifted a black, metallic case which had been on Hammer Head’s back when they walked from the police station. She threw the case onto the couch and flipped the clasps around the rim and swung the lid open. Inside was a deconstructed, high power sniper rifle with a dozen clips of ammunition and two small tubs filled with extra rounds. Kuren pulled the ammunition out gently and looked at a gaping Jammer and smiled ‘Don’t worry, it won’t bite.’

Jammer shook her head ‘Sorry, I just haven’t seen a rifle like that in a while, can I help you construct it?’

‘I’ll tell ya what, you watch and you can put it together next time, ok?’

‘Sure thing, I like watching too.’ Jammer blushed, realising she had made a sexually suggestive remark when Kuren looked at her with a sly grin.

Kuren moved quickly in putting the rifle together, her hands finding parts and screwing them together seemed like second nature, within three minutes the weapon was assembled.

‘Could you clear off that dining table and drag it over here, sugar?’ Kuren asked sweetly but not flirtatiously.

‘Sure.’ Jammer responded instantly, being called Sugar really buttered her up.

She threw the table cloth and table settings onto the floor. She began dragging the, surprisingly light, wooden table across the room to the panoramic window facing north.

‘Thanks, Darling.’ Kuren put the fully constructed rifle onto the table and lay herself down behind it, her legs dangling slightly and she pressed her right eye into the eye piece of the scope and began adjusting.

‘They’re taking a while upstairs, and downstairs for that matter, what are they doing?’ Jammer asked.

‘Well, they’re downstairs making sure there aren’t any hostile forces waiting for us and also, they are looking for any escape routes or entryways.’

‘I meant the people on the roof.’ Jammer pointed a finger into the air.

‘They’re fitting a booster antenna and broadcasting computer so we can call the fleet from anywhere in the city. Also, hopefully, we should be able to call Babel and give them intel and co-ordinate attacks from here.’ Kuren rolled over onto her back and sat up halfway through speaking and looked at Jammer, face to face. “We were told not to tell anyone anything about this until Fleet gave the thumbs up but I think we can trust you, can we?’ She was stern and serious.

‘Of course you can trust me.’ Jammer was slightly intimidated but felt a relief in knowing she was trusted.

‘We are the tip of the spear on a massive counter attack to relieve Babel and secure the city. Because Zion was so, relatively, untouched; Command decided that troops will be deployed here.’

‘Well, what’s their plan from there?’ Jammer asked, confused and slightly overwhelmed.

‘Well, a column of air and ground forces will move up, behind the enemy forces and attack them from behind.’

‘I take it you don’t know about their lines, then?’

‘What do you mean?’ Kuren asked, confused.

‘They have a trench lines and forts along their rear flank, I can take you out and show you. When we get back to the police station, you need to tell Korra and She can tell you all about their rear line.’ Jammer said in a cold manner.

‘Fuck’ she pressed her throat mic ‘Boss, can you come up, ASAP?’

‘On my way, K.’ Pao said.

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1iamhis · 4 years

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#middaybabymidday

Beginnings (?–1440 BC)

The Bible opens with the words, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” The first two chapters of Genesis tell how God made the world in six days and rested on the seventh.

The crown of creation is humankind. Adam, the first man, was placed in a garden paradise called Eden, where he was to care for the garden. The animals were created in pairs, but Adam was alone. So God made him a woman and told them to have children and to populate the earth.

The Garden of Eden was theirs to enjoy—with one exception. They were told not to eat of one tree called “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” But Eve gave in to the temptation of Satan, God’s adversary, and ate of the forbidden fruit. So did Adam, and they fell. They were driven from the garden: Eve to have sorrow and pain in childbirth, Adam to a life of hard toil to produce food from the earth.

Sin had entered the race and would be part of all humankind. Yet God promised salvation through the seed of woman and pictured that salvation through the provision of coats of skins.

So Adam and Eve began to live outside the garden. The tragedy of the fall was demonstrated early when one of Adam and Eve’s sons, Cain, killed his brother Abel. As the race increased in number, it became more and more wicked. Finally, God destroyed it in a great flood. Only Noah found grace in God’s eyes, and through the building of an ark he and his family were spared.

From those eight people, the race again multiplied. At Babel, man sought to defy God by building a tower to heaven, but God scattered them and gave them different languages.

Genesis 12 marks a change in God’s dealings with people. The Lord singled out one man, Abram, who lived in the city of Ur in Chaldea, and designated him and his offspring as His special people. God would make Himself known through them. Abram’s name was changed to Abraham, and he was instructed to journey to a land God would later reveal to him. That land was Palestine, and God gave it to Abraham and his children forever.

Abraham and his descendants—Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph—lived as nomads, much as the Bedouins of today. Their homes were tents. They raised cattle and sheep. The sense of family was strong, with the oldest living male member serving as patriarchal leader and family priest.

For a long time it seemed that Abraham would die without a son—in spite of God’s promise. But in their old age, Abraham and Sarah miraculously had a son—Isaac. Isaac’s son Jacob continued the family with 12 sons, men who became the heads of the tribes of Israel. The family stayed in Palestine until a famine drove them to Egypt. One of the 12 sons, Joseph, had risen to prominence in Egypt, and he became their protector and benefactor.

The family stayed in Egypt 430 years and multiplied rapidly. Gradually, however, they became enslaved. The future of the family, now a sizable nation, was threatened by a royal order for all male children to be killed. God called a man named Moses, who had been raised in Pharaoh’s court, to lead Israel to freedom. After a bitter contest with Pharaoh, they marched across the Red Sea (which God parted miraculously) and into the wilderness, heading for Canaan, the Land of Promise.

On the journey, Moses received the Law of God on Mount Sinai, as well as instructions for building a tent of worship. They arrived at the edge of Canaan and sent in spies. But the courage they had when they confronted Pharaoh left them, and the people refused to undertake the conquest of the Promised Land. Because of their unbelief, God sentenced them to wander 40 years in the desert wilderness until the entire generation had died.

As the first five books of the Old Testament (the Pentateuch) conclude, Israel is assembled on the banks of the Jordan River. Moses, their great leader, is dead; but a new leader, Joshua, is ready to lead the march into Canaan.

Seeing God.

Now that we have reviewed the history recorded in the Pentateuch, let’s go back for another look. Remember, our goal is not merely to know the story of the Bible but to know the God behind the story—and to see ourselves in relationship with Him. The first five books are packed with information that helps us know God, so let’s look at one representative incident: the story of Noah in Genesis 6–8. As you read the account of Noah’s rescue from the flood, you will see these truths about God:

He is a God to be feared.

He is able to create and to destroy.

He is patient with sinners, but His patience has limits.

He is not just loving and kind; He is also a God of righteousness, justice, and anger.

He is concerned about what is happening in His world.

He has complete control over His creation.

He has the power to interrupt history.

He is the God of new beginnings.

He rescues those who trust in Him.

He makes and keeps promises.

Seeing Ourselves.

In the early chapters of Genesis, we are told of Adam and Eve’s decision to disobey God. In that act we see our own willfulness and our readiness to break His commandments. Here are several other ways we may see ourselves in the first five books of the Old Testament and in Job:

In Cain’s jealousy, we see our own sense of competition (Genesis 4:5).

In Noah’s need for an ark of salvation, we see our own need of rescue from God’s judgment (Genesis 6–8).

In Abraham’s faith in following God, we see our own potential for belief (Genesis 12).

In Jacob’s scheming, we see our own inclination to trust in ourselves (Genesis 25, 27).

In Joseph’s kindness to his brothers, we see our own responsibility to forgive (Genesis 42–45).

In Israel’s unwillingness to enter Canaan, we see our own weakness of faith (Exodus 14).

In Job’s response to suffering, we see our own feelings when things turn against us (Job 3).

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#middaybabymidday

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redwoodpress · 7 years

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“Babel”

I watched my TV screen weeks ago as state after state bled the color red, foreshadowing a death that would break across not only my TV, but my America. Subtle whispers of profanity escaped my lips the same familiar way they have when tragedy affected my life, as every border dripped into the next, like a color by number sent from hell. The only thought that kept coming back around, “This is America. This is America. This is America.”

So many of you called me to weep into the phone, asking the static silence between us to change the outcome. Your fears were sent to me from other countries. The defeat that landed on your bones you gave to me that night and we tried to carry it together. You ranted, screamed, went silent. We all processed in a myriad of ways. I walked onto my school campus and familiar faces were gone. Protests broke out, everyone split like the Red Sea, and that night I cried myself to sleep because I realized I wasn’t Jesus and I couldn’t hold the weight of your emotions in my hands. I was tired for you. I was tired for me. I was tired.

I told a friend the other day that if the phrase, “God is in control” has become a language that is only used to silence you, I will not say it right now. I won’t erase your pain with empty Christian jargon.

You are mourning, I am too. I am listening. There is nothing but love in my heart for you. Before I say more, know that if I have any internalized racism in my body, I don’t want it. I never did. But we have the choice every day to love or hate each other. This is humanity.

Friends, we were destined to fall. From Genesis to now, we are still falling into some bad dream. Whether it’s Greek mythology or it is literal, whether the world was created in seven days or Charles Darwin’s view on creation wasn’t that far off, whether you kiss the bible or you want it to burn in the hell it speaks of, we are still broken. This is America. This is the world. This is sin. Hate me for bringing God into this conversation. Hate me for talking about sin; but look around, is anything else working? Do people, on an individual basis, suddenly believe you and fall at your feet when you argue? Are we getting anywhere?

I tried to remember as I sat in my astronomy class that this world is a dot in an expansive universe. It’s still spinning, at just the right angles, to keep us alive and well. We have made it through the Depression, two World Wars, the Holocaust. I am not decreasing those events, nor invalidating the present. But we are still here. We have felt deep loss and time has given us just enough to keep growing through and out of the pain. We watched 9/11 as children-we feared that day as something so strong and mighty fell. As dust storms chased after people like a horror film and fires choked them out of life; we wondered if we would ever recover. We are still standing.

But we will never have perfect stability.

Former wars, pointless like Vietnam took innocent lives as it depicted faulty images on our televisions. Media took us in its grimy hands and left us isolated, confused, devastated. Language made blanket statements out of us, human documents that anyone could read and somehow understand, instead of individuals who have been written by complex experiences, loss, love, heartbreak, humiliation, triumph. It became “us” and “them”. Power, privilege, oppression, entitled, injustice, white supremacy, woke-there are a lot of hot words floating around, and not everyone knows what they mean. The words reinforced the borders; pathways to individual people are getting caution taped. Dialogue is broken and conversations are dead-one word out of someone’s mouth is suddenly cause to crucify them, instead of educate. I hear a tower of Babel; we’re all speaking a language that no one will listen to. The definitions have trapped us all. Enough.

We were told to love our enemies. We were told to bear with one another in love. Anger is good, hate is not. Focus. Fight for people, instead of just fighting.

We will never have perfect stability.

There will always be angry, ignorant, white men in the middle of America who hate African-Americans, the LGBTQA community, women, immigrants, Muslims. There will always be people in those groups who hate those white men back. Social media will always be a faulty platform to write atrocious things to people in anger.

Honestly, we chose to hear what we wanted to hear. We were living in the fear of the question, “Is it this bad? Is America this bad that these are the best candidates?” And then as politics progressed the fear ate us alive and vulnerability gave us no other choice than to believe a lie. That politics was all we had. That media from terrible sources defined us. And we became the borders that Trump talked about. They were both racist, corrupt, aggressive in sexual assault or passive in preventing it, drunk on power, drunk on money, fallen-whether they said it like a badge of honor on national television or did it behind closed doors. They still are. We lived within the walls of corruption before Trump even talked about his damn wall. Before he got elected, we chose hope against all odds in unimaginable filth. And then the nightmare came true and we threw out hope and fell back into filth. Hate. We let a single man get inside our heads and spin us in circles.

It’s a shame, it’s embarrassing and surreal. Because I look at the rest of the world, having been to third world countries, and their generosity is uncanny. They have nothing and their hands are open and they say, “Here. Take it from me. Take the shirt off my back.” Their hands are open for not only us, but for the seemingly improbable truth of hope.

And we are here, screaming our own pride into every facet of communication available, and to be honest, it’s making me sick. The story isn’t about us. Other countries seem to understand this.

We’re all yelling about self-love, and that’s important, but I have more things to do than to just love myself. There are a lot more people who need love, and it’s about time we start doing it.

Fighting for the orphan and the widow isn’t optional. Fighting for immigrants isn’t optional.

We are better than this.

We’ve worshiped fear. We’ve set up an altar and bowed down. One side mentions God and the others say they are privileged and white and don’t understand pain. Another side speaks out about their very real oppression and injustice and the others tell them that it’s not happening. Our experiences are not the same, you’re right. I am not you. But to be honest, I told myself that God was in control because I had nothing else; I was horrified at the state of our country. I didn’t say that God was on the throne to suddenly diminish that systems are still broken and people are still in need. I didn’t say it as a means to turn a blind eye to injustice, and I know many did. I say that God is control because I cling to nothing else, our world is chaotic, and I have nothing left that brings the sweet waters of peace. Maybe that sounds privileged, but it’s what I have right now.

The divide is getting wider, we have to stop it.

We somehow thought we should stack up our pain and struggle next to each other and let them compete. We’re not the same but we have both held hands with fear, and eaten depression for breakfast, and been paralyzed by tragedy. I don’t want to be in this game anymore, and nobody wins when we compare scars. Fear is real, fear is valid. But fear is still just that-fear. It’s easy, it’s natural, it’s a reflex, and it is something we can fight. Whether you are more affected by this election or not, we still have choices to make about the demons that tuck us in at night and how we are going to send them back to hell. We’re in this together, let’s act.

I don’t ask for ignorance. I don’t ask you not to feel, not to cry, not to see darkness, because we have faced a death of sorts. But I urge you, in this time, to look around at the people taking care of one another. I urge you to look back and see the ways people took care of one another in times of war, disaster, tragedy and learn from them. Look at how people love each other and wake up when nightmares become realities. We can do the same-give, share, find peace in calamity. People are reaching out with both arms in places they cannot see light for others doing the same. If we generalize others into groups without families, personalities, capacity for love and loss, capacity for understanding, we become our own boot camps of hatred. If we don’t help each other realize that, we will be alone, aching over an unstable America, asking it to be heaven. This is not heaven.

By the same token: I didn’t go to church for 5 years because I disagreed with a lot of the things the evangelical church was doing, or not doing. I was questioning, and I was frustrated that the church was not doing one of its primary jobs, to seek justice, peace, and love. This is what I proclaimed obstinately and obnoxiously over people who argued their case. I recently just sat in the car with my best friend after our church service. She has been a church-goer her whole life. She is someone who has watched me go in and out of churches most of my adult life, going once and picking it to pieces like a 5 year old at dinner. I consistently found something to be angry about. She told me that day, “I never wanted to argue at you about how church and community was right because I knew you had to come to that conclusion by yourself. I just knew I was always going to be at least your one friend who always went and I would let that speak.” I almost cried because her patience astounded me. She is a loyal friend because she doesn’t try to make me believe her, she’s just there for me, exemplifying what it’s like to live a life pursuing a God who loves all and waits for all.

So my point is, if I’m not around people who are different than me, how does anything change? If she didn’t stick around, I would have never been part of a group that has changed my life and pushed me forward into change and made me a better person. And if someone like me who is frustrated doesn’t stay, then how does the culture there ever change? Turn your frustration into finding solutions. Otherwise it’s for nothing.

We can’t afford not to change.

So I’m still going to sit next to someone who doesn’t agree with me politically. Do you know why? Because if I wait for them, like I know God waits for me, then maybe we can bridge the divide. My silence and cold shoulder only closes all doors between us. And you know what? This waiting doesn’t take any energy out of me, not nearly as much energy as it takes to be angry.

It doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight for justice; it just means I am going to focus on the people who are in need, instead of fighting at the people who are not.

There are times under the sun for everything. Right now, it’s time to grow up, even when the adults or the peers in our lives haven’t, even when mom’s we barely know get on our Facebook to scold us. We live in a time that people our age spend nine hours a day on social media; we can talk all day about change, but we have to live it. And quite frankly, it’s time to disregard the thoughts of people who don’t believe in peace. It’s time to forgive, even when it’s difficult. In the end, a bitter heart is only hurting you.

Don’t burn bridges. Light a flame to lead people out of their shadows. That’s more important.

History does not dictate how we move forward. Be present. Move. There will always be people who live in the past; we get to be the minorities, whites, women, men, LGBTQA community, immigrants, Muslims who don’t. So let’s move the conversation forward, too. Embrace your ancestry, but ask yourselves-who are we? Who do we want to be? That’s the question we have left, let it propel us forward into truth.

We can’t say that “Love trumps hate” and then cut someone out of that, regardless of who they are, no matter how much they piss you off. You have to give them margin to change, because you would want the same. Redemption is a story and it’s rolling, but we’re going to miss it if we don’t wake up. That means pursuing love when it’s difficult and grace when you don’t want to in a culture that tells you to do whatever feels right for you. Unfortunately, that doesn’t really work because whatever feels right for you is often easy, and it means to hate people and stay bitter.

We can’t do anything about the way we grew up, but we can do something for the way the ones after us get to grow up. We are not our ancestors. We don’t have to be our history books. We don’t have to lick our wounds. We are not our Facebook statuses. We are all made of the same stuff, flesh and bone; please recognize that.

Can we work together? I’m so tired of not working together. I’m so tired of division.

The color of my skin does not erase the fact that we are called to forgive each other, just as much as the color of my words don’t erase the oppression you encounter because of your skin color.

We will never have perfect stability.

But stability is stone cold cement, founded by old ideas, like the walls of Jericho.

Like the walls of Trump’s hate.

We are built by truth, love, grace, courage. And we move.

The sound of your voices are bleeding through. Can you hear them?

P.S. This article doesn’t give you an excuse to suddenly start bashing millennial “snowflakes” and call them lazy, entitled, and stupid. It also doesn’t give you an excuse to bash all white people, all people of color, or the church. If you are, you’ve done a tremendous job in missing the point. And please don’t read one paragraph of something and say you understand all of it.

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sjohnson24 · 7 years

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Blood & Stone

My wings start unfolding into Heaven as I fall onto the ground in a prayer. The places that I know will not be forgotten yet, they will never be remembered. The memories that I hold so dear wrap around my brain like ivy on a tree, slowly suffocating it as the years go by. What pain is this which could numb me in such a shattered reflection of myself, which tears us both apart? Why must we surrender to the feeling that traces tears onto our hearts? My true love, he is a castle. He is a royal tomb which holds my bones. It doesn’t matter if the structure collapses, fades or burns away. He will forever mark me. He told me five times in the essence of seasons passing, that I should go away from him eventually, so he could find his silence. With the right timing, the truth did grow.

In death there is not an absence of sound, as images become clearer in my head from the vibrations of the minutes. My time will be soon. The moments are short yet shortest for many still. A year is faster than a second when I think about the past. It goes by much faster than the past or future. Before I know it the cycle will have ended and all that’s left is what I could think to tell you. This is how important you are to me, dear.

I want to tell you about the legends of blood & stone which transport us into other realms. The magick of the unknown and mysterious lands of which we do not know will haunt over us because the future is heavy and slow in context to the moment we open up and learn our paths. This is the one thing that we all have; blood magick.

Blood Ritual

A blood ritual is one in which a release of blood is used with intention to bring about a pact, or purpose. In these instances, blood symbolizes a rebirth and resurrection. Blood magic can be used in two ways. One is by the blood of the living and the other is by sacrifice. Many ancient rituals from past civilizations used the latter as a means of extreme worship and is considered to be an evil decision by most of us, in today’s world.

One with any knowledge of the occult can translate these magical workings into a number of different ways. Use with a candle, incantations, various magical offerings or any other spell form is always intensified by the use of blood, which can have a very magnificent effect on any working. It is an energy signature of the artist.

Please be aware that exchanging blood with another person or being can cause very dangerous pathogens and poisons to transfer from body to body. It doesn’t take much to deliver life threatening toxins to one another. Please be creative and try not to use this method as some people are unsuspecting of what they do carry.

Bloodstone

The mineral aggregate heliotrope is also known as the bloodstone. It is a variety of chalcedony and jasper, a dark green color, sometimes including red marks of hematite as well. This is the image that has sparked the stone’s name and magical powers.

In ancient texts, it is said to bring about good health and Pliny the Elder himself recounted that it can bring about invisibility to the user. It has wondrous capabilities in the magical realms. Another property of the stone is that it is said to have the unique ability to turn the sun red, or cause an eclipse. It is known to also be able to control certain water elemental storms, such as rain and lightning.It was also used as an ancient amulet to stop bleeding in people. A Christian’s tale is that Christ’s blood fell upon a stone at his feet, turning it into this. In turn, many artisans craft biblical scenes using bloodstone, or martyr’s stone, as they call it.

If the red spots in the stone are yellow, it is then known as plasma. It was commonly placed in Egyptian tombs to protect the dead person from unknown evils and bad luck. Greek soldiers were known to wear it in battle, believing that it would bring good luck to them. Nowadays, it is used by crystal healers to reduce stress, bring mental clarity and inspire self-confidence.

Gravestone

Gravestones became a popular way to identify a person’s grave. In earlier times, the person’s body would simply be covered with dirt. Over time, family and friends made dedications with stones, pieces of wood, iron and marble to honor them. They soon evolved into what we now see today, which is commonly the person’s name, including the year they were born and died, sometimes with an icon of something spiritual engraved and maybe a few short words.

Burials evolved from being around a person’s home, to the church to public cemeteries, which became popular sometime in the 19th century. The business of headstones started booming and it has become like a necessity. However, as times change so too then will peoples tastes and demands. The wealthier always tend to have a more eloquent grave than the poor.

The binding properties of the stone are recognized even as far as ancient Celtic weddings, where couples would tell their oaths to a stone and then throw it out, in order to have a good marriage. This is still practiced to this day in some weddings. There is much power imbedded within the Earth and as humans we still recognize it, even in our evolved states.

Pray

We will pray hard on the day that our soul feels unrest. Yet, while we are summoning angels, the demons are feeling tempted. How you do bind them with improper words? A tower of Babel, a destruction of Earths, I dream of another birth. For all that must be ordered is unrestrained, while those who hold positions of power feel only for theirselves and what they understand.

I know you. The blood that we have flows through our veins, our spark, and our essence. Yet we bond to each other in a higher demand. Like lust or gratitude, we honor the Gods with their forces. The highest of them which can see us, they are also unchanged. Stay in the order, they say now, as they go to and fro. Our blood and words will open the portals to a higher realm of existence.

It is a juxtaposition of elements that transfixes our hands into branches reaching out. Do not be afraid as we have been led this far without questioning our capabilities of self-modified genetics through behavior practices such as prayer. We will wish onto the blood of our bones, until the day we die, for a resurrection of the truth. May we stay buried until we are fed the mana of immortality. The Last Supper

A common Christian blood ritual is the drinking of Christ’s blood through a glass of juice and a cracker to represent his body. But, this activity is meant to mock a real occurrence from this mythology. According to the Gospel accounts of the bible, The Last Supper is the final meal that Jesus shared with his apostles in Jerusalem before the crucifixion.

Jesus is said to take a piece of bread, breaking it into several pieces and passing it around while saying, “This is my body, which is given for you.” He then takes up a bottle of wine, of which he pours and says, “This is my blood of the everlasting covenant, which is poured for many…” To finish the ritual, he then attests that they should dedicate the moment for him always, as he says, “Do this in remembrance of me.”

This holy rite is considered today as the “Eucharist.” It is meant to remind the followers of the day and the death on the cross. It is a form of gratitude and respect to the holy being that dwells within him. It has many variations, spread throughout several denominations of churches and other religious facilities. Its meaning is also fiercely debated between different aspects of Christ’s people.

Morning Star Ritual

The Morning Star Ritual is a custom practice used by the Pawnee peoples. This includes the Skidi band. Their first accounted living habitat was recognized in Loup River in Nebraska. They were also commonly found at the Platte River, or the Pahnimaha River. The last known occurrence of this act was recorded in 1838. The last known sacrifice was of Haxti, a 14-year-old Oglala Lakota girl on April 22, 1838.

The Morning Star Ritual is the sacrifice of a young girl. The reason is because in their folklore, the male Morningstar and the female evening star mated to create the first human being egg, which was of a young girl. A symbolic ceremony was performed in springtime because that is when Mars was the Morningstar. The real one would not be performed until a person of respect within the community had the dream in which it was time to kidnap a girl from an opposing tribe to use. He would then be handed a specific warriors costume to fulfill this mission.

Once captured, the girl would be ritually cleansed with songs, sacred skins and treated with great honor, almost as if the Gods themselves would reside inside of her. Her clothing would be removed and she would be attacked by the man who had captured her. He would pierce her by bow through the heart while another would hit her over the head with a club. The chest would then be cut open while someone would catch the blood onto pieces of dried meat. Finally, the rest of the men would shoot arrows into her and circle her four times before leaving. This was to symbolizing shooting their life force into her.

At the end of the ceremony, they would lay her body in a field, facing down, so that her blood should run smoothly into the Earth. This represented to them the Garden of the Evening Star, which is all plant and animal life. In this way, her blood would fertilize the Earth and she would ensure that the spirit of the Evening star be released back into the world, time and time again.

Sun Dancer

In the Plains cultures of Native Americans we find a dance that was used as a form on invocation to the sun. These individuals gather together as one to empower each other and bring about change through the use of spiritual sacrifice and release of blood through piercing torturous methods. The typical sun dance was made around a fire, drums playing and great substance was created with energy by many people.

This tradition has been recognized since as early as Aztec and Mayan history. It was commonly thought that the sun resurrected itself each day and blood is the symbol for this philosophy. Most of these practices can only be learned about from pictures and information on ancient artifacts. The level of understanding and societal expectations has changed throughout the years and so many things can be misinterpreted.

An influence of other religions and cultures caused the native peoples to keep their present day workings only available to the pure of heart. No money and photography is allowed in the true worship of the sun today as they believe the spirits will not show around these devices. Also you must be of the heritage to honorably participate. It is thought that this ritual would show the Gods gratitude for life and cause a healing and enlightenment to occur in the community.

Blood & Stone

So we dream and we hope. We drown in the smoke. We’ve loved and we’ve lost. We will recognize the duality of life and pay that price. We will exist again, not as strangers, but as one movement of love. For all that was, is everlasting and all that will be, has already happened. This is a lasting moment made of pure energy. Please take the time to close your eyes. Do as much as you can before you die.

The words that are written into the stone, let them manifest. Let the thoughts of fear drift away and let the light in of what draws near. Live with laughter and you will not die here. Follow the path that the words are written on and you will find yourself. Do not be sure of anything else except for love and even then you may be mistaken. Do not lose yourself in the endings.

So, the time draws near for me to leave you now. I hope that in your journey you continue to grow and learn from every mistake until you become the superhero I always knew you were. I believe in you. Let the day be set forward in motion, where blood & stone become one and we are fragments of a dream just waiting to breakthrough. Until next time…

Deanna Jaxine Stinson, Metaphysical Researcher and Author aka Wish Fire www.teardropsofanangel.com

Blood & Stone syndicated from http://ylangylangbeachresort.com/

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mycocoday · 7 years

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Week 2:Reflection on Calling

Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

Genesis 1:26-28 --------------- OCT 06, 2017

Made in the likeness of God. Everything else in creation is abstract, but mankind is modeled after the creator, the artist, the originator. It is different for me to imagine man as art, as the handiwork of God. What does it mean to subdue the earth? To rule over the fish and the birds and over every living creature? Where I struggle to feel like I have authority to make even decisions regarding my own life, how do I begin to embrace the idea that God meant for me to have power, control, and authority? Of course not in a way that is tyranny, but in a way that is in one accord with God.

Not just mindless artwork, but children. Be fruitful, increase in number. Fill the earth. Subdue it. God’s command is to create, to rule, to finish what he has started. He wants us to create with him. We’re not mindless. We aren’t meant to sit on a shelf to look good. We are not dolls living in a dollhouse. God means for us to have life, have stories, have expressions. The unique flavors, sounds, ideas, and projects all work together to show God’s diversity and creativeness.

What does it mean that I am: 1. Created and modeled after God.

2. To be fruitful and multiply. Fill the earth and subdue it. I know Jesus comes into the picture later and changes everything as he always does, but what God has put into place here is still valid. What are my gifts? Where am I like God? Where must I create and be creative in order that I reveal God’s character and creativity?

With words, I write, I speak, I help others to feel.

With my presence, I listen, I stay, I weep.

Oct 07, 2017

Often I want to ask. God, why did you make me the way that I am, because often I feel that I am not enough. I lack what is needed to succeed, to do what is needed of me. The world feels like there’s too much that is broken. I wrestle with my insecurities that taunt me: “who do you think you are?” “you are incompetent” “you are unworthy and unwanted” That’s the latter part of Genesis that follows creation. The Fall. The wrench thrown into the works. A distraction, an attempt to prevent creation to come to fullness and fruition. Why is it that negative things like greed, hate, adultery, slander, addiction, disease, illness, abuse here? I know it is because sin entered into our world, but why did the conception of “sin” exist to begin with? Why did the angel fall so far? Why did he covet the Lord? How did those feelings get there? He’s not the only one. The tree of life and knowledge. Did sin enter our world after the angel fell from heaven or after mankind rejected God by the fallen angel’s tempting? I’m not sure if this is something I’ll really understand. What does it mean that I am called to multiply and fill the earth? Not on my own. It isn’t possible on my own. You cannot procreate alone. You cannot fulfill this call alone. God’s commissioning was not said to just Adam or to just Eve, but to them both. Neither does God ever call anyone into something that does not impact others or require others to come alongside that call/vision/mission. Oct 9, 2017 I remember God in the earlier parts of Genesis as extroverted, creative, funny, patient, oh so loving. From the tower of babel to murder, to making a cow idol, God has been present in all of it, urging his people to continue on his path, to remember his love, to trust him. The entirety of the path had purpose. From wandering in a desert for 40 years to Joseph’s enslavement and Egypt oppression... God used all of it to prune his people, to test his people, to grow his people. Nothing is for waste. I reflect over my journal entries and note my worries and anxieties. How I doubt and focus on the winds and the waves. Then how God is patiently waiting for me to notice him, to trust him, to remember his love, to fear him. The extroverted God who wants me to create with him, who when I get distracted by my tower of babel, will tear it down and urge me to keep going. Even if it hurt to get my tower of babel knocked down, He knows what is for vanity, what is for actual life. But he will not be patient forever. I have to distinguish myself as a sheep who wants him, who serves a useful purpose. His grace is abundant and foolish, and I take advantage of his grace, but I also know better. I can be a good sheep for once. At least my heart can try. My fears still rest with my own insecurities and feelings of inadequacies. How do I become more confident and self-assured?

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