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#but it’s not my ministry to do anything with them except teach them
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as the anti-Helen of Troy my mission is to make the space where men are not something that can be so Fun and Safe.
#at the end of the day#it’s not the pining for the husband that gets me#it’s the missing the other girls when they begin to be romantical#(I know that isn’t a word)#(I mean it IS okay they always come back around and also it’s necessary)#but sometimes I do really know that my mission/ministry/jobs (that’s lofty language but…)#is to keep the feminine-specific place warm for the girls who don’t have anybody yet/for the girls who have someone to come in and out of#and like. i feel it so strongly that I can make it just as fun. and that I can make it something that is so safe#and I want to do that#like. the protectiveness I feel of the female heart#i can’t explain it but it is SO powerful. i am so protective of it#and I love men. and I love to think on the good ones and reflect and appreciate#but it’s not my ministry to do anything with them except teach them#until/if there is a husband#and it’s just like. he better be such a funny icon. because no way I’m letting anybody else into the rose garden space of the just for girls#actually he wouldn’t be allowed into that space either. but I’d come out occasionally just for him. and then start sort of a joint-garden#with him.#because tbh he should be someone who is taking care of men/leading them etc.#making them run the bleachers of life. till the earth etc. etc. etc.#and yes that is a Coach Taylor reference but that’s why I love him!!!#and that’s why he’s my husband#the ultimate complementary ministries#but like. he would KNOW on some level that my first loyalty is always to Women#in the sense of my work. but then he’d be my husband#Maria literally stop doodling on the whiteboard of life again challenge#but actually I won’t because it’s safe to do it here. i can’t say ALL of these things in person#so thanks for listening I’m sure it is confusing. but I am feeling a lot and reflecting a lot#and am very curious to see how things develop and grow#for me and what I want to do#anyway yes yes I’m being insufferable in some ways but also I just mean it all 100% lol
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booburry · 1 year
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Aesop Sharp Bodyguard Fic?
Classic writers block: Brain refuses to function for current WIP's but loooooooves creating and obsessing about NEW and SHINY things. *grumble*
Anywhooo, thought I may share a small snippet of what I have. Wanted to try my hand at a first person fic, but I did create an OC so it's not quite a reader insert.
Defs NSFW, like usual...but this time with a more vulgar narrator than my other work.
Summary: Aesop Sharp finds himself no longer employed by the ministry and in a desperate need to access the most precious and hard sought information on curses and their cures. There were two places he could think to obtain this information, and two job offers to match. A teaching position at Hogwarts OR personal body guard to Sylvia Gaunt, the eldest daughter of the esteemed Gaunt family.
I am Sylvia Gaunt:
I am 24 years old, born in 1859. I am the second eldest sibling of the Guant family, second to Marvolo who I have a distinct distaste for.
I grew up hating my family, and still very much do with the exception of my little brother Ominis; who I fear for greatly as he was sadly afflicted with a kind heart as myself. However, unlike Ominis, I was easy and willing to break.
I greatly feel powerless in the world I am surrounded in, never having a choice beyond the life ahead of me that is chosen by my heritage, family name, or parents.
My greatest pleasure’s in life is indulging in my vices, mostly sex. Feeling wanted, feeling powerful and in control—it was the closet feeling to love and safety I would ever know. It also put a smudge on my family name, my whorish reputation, and that brought me more pleasure than any cocks or cunts could.
In a plot to ensure I act more modest, to prepare me for a life of marriage to my eldest brother; ‘we need to keep the bloodline pure’, so my parent’s claim. The idea disgusted me and every day I wished they would just move on from the idea, but my brother seemed transfixed on the idea and they would do anything for their prized boy.
Besides Ominis, there was only one person in my life who managed to bring some light into this dark, depraved and depressing life of mine. Mr. Sharp, for the short while he was in it, he made quite the impact. But, like this story, not all things have a happy ending.
The fool…I had warned him.
Chapter 1:
“The matter is final.” Father’s tone was pointed enough that I knew I was a few more protests away from being cursed.
This wasn’t a battle worth enduring that punishment.
“Thank you, Father. I feel loved by how concerned you are for my safety and well being.” I said as forcefully sweet as I could, knowing fully that my words were an obvious lie no matter how they were spoken.
Father just grimaced before storming out of my bedroom, leaving my handmaidens to return to the task of getting me ready for the evening’s party. The moment I knew he was out of earshot, I let out a long, exasperated, groan.
“I don’t need a personal bodyguard. It’s ridiculous.” I hissed as a I fell into the chair in front of my vanity mirror. Hilda and Mathilda, my two personal servants, immediately at my side. “Hasn’t he learned from the last dozen that they never last and aren’t required?” I asked to the mirror, looking at the reflection of the two of them, expecting nothing but an agreement in response.
Hilda and Mathilda eagerly nodded, not daring speak any words out loud against the head of the Gaunt family. I couldn’t blame them for that—few were brave enough to attempt it and live to talk about it. I just sat back in my annoyance, determined to think of a way to get rid of this new bodyguard.
Normally the two maids just mumble on about nonsense as they worked on her; fashion, single men looking for a wife, or any bullshit my father wanted me to hear about. However…today, they could be of better use to me. I smiled widely as I admired my reflection, pleased with the view and my wit. They would give me some information before they began to bore me with their usual conversation.
“Have you heard anything about him?” I questioned in a soft, aloof, tone. I wanted to appear non-threatening, so that they wouldn’t just feed me information to please me; Hilda may not but Mathilda was nothing but a dimwitted whore who my father fucked in ‘secret’. I continued to watch myself in the mirror, ensuring to act self centered while watching their reactions closely.
“Not too much, other than he’s handsome.” Matilda enthusiastically informed as they delicately brushed my hair and applied lotion to my skin—I never liked to feel dry when being rubbed between strangers bodies. Although I wasn’t entirely displeased with her information—so long as it was true—I didn’t expect much else from her.
If I was going to be stuck with a man constantly watching me, he could at least be pleasant on the eyes.
“He’s an ex-Auror.” Hilda offered, her eyes watching me hungrily, eager to please—she was always my favorite. I reached out a soft hand to gently rub Hilda’s thigh, to let her know she was doing well.
“Anything else you know, my pretty thing?” I asked her while watching her in the mirror, a sickly-sweet smile forced upon my lips.
“Mr. Sharp injured himself on the job, rumor has it that he is trying to find a cure. Apparently his job was dealing with smugglers and dark wizards. I heard your father takes great pride to have such a person under his employment now.” I smiled—of course he would. My father wouldn’t care the risk of the ministry, as he would have more ties to it and ways to influence the institution than any ex-Auror could. However, for an Auror to stoop so low as to be employed for a family such as ours must mean we have something he desperately needs.
I had the information I needed.
“Thank you Hildy—promise to make it up to you.” I winked at her, enjoying the blush it brought to her cheeks while thinking of how red her others would be once I am through with her. “Now, let’s make sure I make a good first impression, shall we ladies?”
I smiled, honestly for the first time this evening. This ‘Mr. Sharp’ would be fun to play with.
While he lasted.
~~~
I stared at the brooding, expressionless, might-as-well-be-a-statue, man across from me with a heavy sigh.
“For an ex-Auror, you don’t exactly exude excitement.” He just looked at me before returning his gaze to the window to peer at their surroundings. I felt myself huff in annoyance—I never liked being ignored.
“And here I thought we were enjoying each other’s company.” He dryly retorted while adjusting himself within his seat.
“Your company is not the one I wish to enjoy.” I used my own digging tone, ensuring to sound dismissive and uninterested. I mean…I was uninterested, despite something pulling my attention towards the grouchy old man. It was perplexing, and annoying, but at least Mathilda had been right; he was handsome.
I would have to give her some praise as well.
“So I have heard.” His attention turned to me, his eyes piercing and intelligent. I couldn’t help but smirk and raise an eyebrow. I knew the only reputation I had, and I swore there seemed to be some life breathed into the statuesque ex-Auror when he had to reference my depraved reputation as well.
“Have you now?” I purred, already turned on knowing what awaited me at this party, yet feeling it ignite as I watched him torment himself for what he obviously was thinking. “You know what happens at these parties? At least with me?” I dropped my tone, winking at him as I brought my wand to my dress. “People are free to watch if they don’t want to partake.”
I had ensured to know this transfiguration spell without having to mutter the words. The amount of times I had to do this while walking into the entrance of the manor was astounding, and quickly became something of an urgent need. Slowly the spell removed the modest fabric that suffocated my body to become a revealing, almost non-existent, practically see-through, dress; that hugged all of my curves perfectly. I could see his eyes snap to me, unable to look away, unable to blink. Smiling, I raised a leg so that the slit parted enough that my pretty pussy would be in his direct view.
“Or would you want a taste now, hmn?” I taunted, my smile turning into a sneer. “Put this little rich bratty bitch in her place?” I could see his breath still as he stared briefly at my cunt before tearing his eyes away.
I audibly pouted, bringing my leg down with a loud stomp.
“I see my father found a man with morals.” I commented with disgust as the carriage stopped, sad that my easy way to get rid of Mr. Sharp was fouled. However, I was reassured that I would succeed in the long run. “Don’t worry, I will break you soon enough.” I kindly threatened, a pleasant and honest smile on my face, as I took the free hand available to me to assist me getting out of the carriage.
I did not wait for him to follow, nor did I look behind for him, as I was sure he would be there. I also did not care to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was on my mind.
It, surely, was only because I was plotting his end.
I shook my head, trying to release the thoughts of my newly appointed babysitter. Instead, I looked to the doors of the manor ahead, bright light pressing against the dark stained glass, excitement building within me. No matter how Mr. Sharp intended to spoil my night, as I was sure that was why my father enlisted him today specifically, I would still be able to get away with something.
And anytime I could bring disgrace to the Gaunt name excited me the most; I honestly get wet at just the thought of it.
The doors opened as I was about to enter, Pierre greeting me enthusiastically.
“Welcome my love.” He called everyone that, however he always said it with a bit more endearment towards me—at least that’s how I always heard it and I am sure nobody, not even Pierre, could convince me otherwise.
Pierre hugged me fiercely, grabbing at my flesh as his lips came to mine; hungry.
“Oh, I cannot wait to fuck you tonight, my darling. I have been waiting to taste that pretty little cunt of yours.” He smiled, his mustache tickling my face. I was about to respond when I heard a harsh, curt, audible clearing of a throat from behind me.
“Unfortunately, that may not happen.” I informed Pierre with a pained smile, pushing him away as I turned to look at Mr. Sharp. “A gift from my father.” I added, glancing back at the orchestrator of this here extravaganza. I quickly glanced around me to take in the beautiful view of people dancing, drinking, and fucking openly. Curious, I looked to Mr. Sharp to see he was taking in the same splendid scenery but with a much more…distasteful expression.
I felt myself linger too long in that look, and that I, also, took too much pleasure in that expression of his; it brought an urgent, almost violent, need to look elsewhere. My eyes fell to Pierre, who seemed to regard Mr. Sharp in the same way as I had.
“Not that kind of gift.” I warned, knowing very well what Pierre intended to do behind that stare. “When have you known my father to send such a thing?” I asked him credulously and in monotone.  Pierre just smirked at me, cupping my chin lightly.
“He sends you.” He purred, bringing his face closer to mine before the two of us were physically removed apart by Sharp. I just shook my head in disbelief before giving a pleading glance to Pierre; immediately something came to mind. I gave a short, forced, laugh.
“Where are my manners. Mr. Sharp, this is Pierre Lovelace, the organizer of this here event; Pierre’s Petting Palace.” I smirked as he grimaced at the name. “He always insists on giving new guests the ‘Grand Tour’.”
“I don’t—” Mr. Sharp began to say before getting swept up by Pierre and his many female companions, guiding him far away from me. I smiled with a sweet sense of revenge as Mr. Sharp glanced back at me, absolutely furious. Wanting to send him over the edge, I bit my lip and blew him a kiss. His face went red with rage as his lips pursed, in a way that reminded me of the carriage for a short moment.
As a nice farewell, for I knew I wouldn’t see him for at least a few hours, a flashed him one sweet look of what laid between my legs—something about the calm fury he looked at me with sent shivers down my spine.
I turned, smiling, as I walked to one of the rooms Pierre normally excluded from the tour’s he gave, greatly hoping that there would be other’s already partaking in what I came for.
I was so excited, I practically took my dress off before walking into the room.
~~~
“Enough of this!” Mr. Sharp’s voice boomed into the room, much earlier than I wanted yet later than I expected. I moved my face to be able to look to see his reaction, eager to know if he still held that vexing anger, and to see how he would react to seeing four men stuffing their cocks within me.
He stood still, mouth agape as he looked at me on this oversized bed, one man under me, one man over me, another between my legs and the last, desperately, trying to shove his dick back into my mouth. I smiled, my eyes locked to Mr. Sharp, as I slowly wrapped my tongue around the head of this strangers cock, guiding it into my throat.
Mr. Sharp watched with a twisted look of intrigue and disgust as the other three men returned to fucking me; a few others eagerly awaiting their turn.
“We will be returning.” He told me, taking a menacing step forwards but I just shook my lead lightly, removing the cock that was in my mouth to the displeasure of the owner.
“Careful Mr. Sharp,” I warned as a mindfully stroked the cock poking my cheek, “take a step closer and they may think you are here to partake.” It seemed my words pushed him over his prudish barrier, as he quickly brandished his wand and I knew, at that point, my fun was over. “Out, out.” I ordered the men, meaning for them to get out of me, not the room.
I scowled at Mr. Sharp as I walked towards him.
“There are three rules of this establishment, I assume you weren’t listening to Pierre, but they are this. One. Always ensure it’s consensual. Two. Always ensure it’s pleasurable, and three…” I reached out and lowered to tip of Mr. Sharp’s wooden stick. “No. Wands.” I glanced back at the nervous, masked, and naked men that had just previously been so confidently thrusting into me, before looking back at Mr. Sharp; who I noticed regarded the same individuals. “They are not as confident as I to let the world know who they are—many are fearful that some prudish individual, such as yourself, would out them in the world outside this manor. Let them have their peace.” I instructed as I walked past Mr. Sharp, grabbing the dress I had so casually tossed aside, preparing to leave.
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kerra-and-company · 1 year
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⏳⏳⏳ for kerra!
Backstory asks, coming right up! :D (Continuing the trend of starting 2023 by Getting These Answered, please and thank you brain xD)
"I think about titles a lot, probably because I've had a lot of them--Valiant, Herald, Initiate, Lightbringer, Knight, Champion. I suppose I have the benefit of never needing a resume to apply for a new job, so there's that. 'Commander' is as much a part of my name these days as anything, whether I'm officially attached to the Pact or not. Even my full name feels like a title. No one calls me Kerralind, and, honestly, I don't want them to. I like 'Kerra', and 'Lin', and I can save the full thing for whatever unexpected Ministry of Transit paperwork I may have to file in the future.
"If I had to pick the most uncomfortable title I've had, it would be 'Herald'. I did not then, nor do I now, have any desire to be my Mother's voice. The work I did in that role was important, and I'm not discounting it--but I am not her spokesperson. On the other hand, I miss hearing 'Lightbringer'. Only Riel and the Preceptors use it, nowadays, but Demmi used to." (There's a flash of grief in her eyes.) "I think she would have earned that title, too, eventually. She was--Demmi was a good friend." (She blinks, and readjusts her seat, taking a breath.)
"Anyway." (She smiles ruefully.) "I think if there's anything my life should teach future Tyrians, it's to hold off on the titles until they're ready to choose the ones they want. To use a phrase I heard recently, I'm the exception that proves the rule. My life has been a very bumpy airship ride, and there are so many things I'm grateful for--but there also are so many things I wish I could change. I wasn't ready to have so much on my shoulders. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of who I am now, just like I'm proud of who Aurene is--I am so, so proud of my daughter, and of all my children." (Her gaze is intent, now.) "But the world I want to leave behind cannot rely on saplings and children to carry all its weight. It can't. I won't stand for that."
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wutbju · 1 year
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Richard J. Heigl, Sr., a native of Buffalo New York and long time resident of Houma, 93, was called home to spend eternity with his beloved Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ on Saturday, April 16, 2022.
Visitation will be held Tuesday, April 26, 2022 from 10am to 12pm, with the memorial service to start at 12pm, at Samart Funeral Home of Houma, West Park.
He is survived by one sister, Geraldine Sobarnia, two sons, Richard J. Heigl, Jr. and his wife Denise, Jonathan Heigl, his son in law, Riecke Schaefer; 10 grandchildren, Brittney Oldham and her husband Brad, Jake Heigl and his wife Ashley, Lindsay Cantrelle and her husband Jarrett, Tara Heigl, Jonathan Heigl, Jr. and his wife Sarah, Lauren Heigl, Rachel Heigl, Lee Arceneaux, Jr. and his wife Jessica, Brad Arceneaux and his wife Katie, Brian Arceneaux; and 21 great grandchildren.
He was preceded in death by his loving wife, Connie, of 56 years, daughter Dixie Schaefer, his parents Joseph and Laurel Heigl, and his brother Joseph Heigl.
My Father's story "Mercy Bestowed on a Lost Sinner" taken directly from a letter he had written to his cousin his words.
Things don't "just happen," but all are related to our good by a gracious God. Don't ask me how, for providence is nearly as great a mystery as redemption. We have been preserved until now, and that's a blessing.
But, you would not believe the hills and valleys that I have traveled to get to this point. As I grow older, I can see God's hand in every situation. I can see mercy extended for no cause, grace intervening when justice was due. In early life I was very athletic, morally clean, because God controlled the situations in my life-mildly interested in church, read the Bible some, but never saw much in it except "don't do this," and "don't do that.
I had every intention to study for the ministry so I enrolled in Bob Jones University (Greenville, SC) in 1953-but just before I left for school the second greatest thing in my life happened to me. I was reading a sermon out loud to my Mom in the backyard as she was hanging clothes. The text was Jeremiah 17:9, "The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked: who can know it?" That message was called "The Total Depravity of the Human Heart." As I was reading, how I hoped Mom would understand it! She asked, "Son, do you understand those things?" I said, "Sure I do! The harder the preaching, the better I like it." Soon I finished reading and walked down the driveway to go back in the house when a voice heard only by my heart said, "You really don't know what you are reading. What you've read is true, but you are a total stranger to all of it. You are the lost, ignorant sinner you were reading about!" All I could do was quietly admit, "Yes, Lord, I am lost." Then I figured I'd quickly "get saved" and get on to my preaching, but to no avail.
I arrived at Bob Jones University as scheduled. The first week they had assembly every day to get everybody "saved" before school got underway. Three thousand preacher boy students, all of them "saved" except me. You see, all they had to do was make a decision, say they believed that Jesus was the Son of God, and by this simple believing they were told that they were saved. I had done all of this several years before God awakened me to the fact that I was still a lost sinner. Now God was teaching me a few things about this heart of mine which I thought was so "righteous." I now knew that to be saved, God the Spirit would have to do the work. That same voice which told me I was lost must also speak peace to my heart and reveal Christ to me (II Corinthians 4:4-6).
I did fine in all BJU classes except in religion. There, instead of really learning anything about God's Word, they wanted small groups of us to go out and find children playing in their yard or in the streets. We must force them to say they believed in Jesus, get their names and hurry back to class with a "convert" to our credit! My soul totally rebelled against such a bunch of foolishness and I skipped every session after the first one! What a horrible deception and trafficking in souls! I gave out a few sermons by old Puritan writers and it nearly caused a split in the school, so I graciously bowed out after one semester. A short time after that is when Mom, Sis and I moved to New Orleans, LA. to be under sound preaching. That was in 1954. My only desire now was to know the Lord who died for sinners. Mom endured it, Sis hated it, but God was bringing me down.
Soon I met Connie, a girl who worked as church typist and had actually typed the first message God used to awaken me. God had revealed Christ to her heart when she was only 17. The Lord gave her a love for me and me for her; her special beauty to me was that she was in Christ.
Self-righteous hearts have the most to learn, and slowly but surely the Lord was teaching me that first lesson-that the heart truly is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. In the following years we were poor, with a growing family, and I cried unto the Lord continually and wore out several Bibles.
Read till your eyes water, pray till you fall asleep, but you can't make God save you.
In October 1968 a preacher from Michigan held services in a country home near where we lived. Many of our friends and neighbors were there. After the message, I felt such a desire to know Christ that I stood up and said so, in the presence of everyone who knew me. (Feeling myself such a lost sinner, the one desire of my heart was to be joined to Christ.) Those people all thought I was a saint, for I had talked often of things in the bible, and I lived the best life outwardly that I could. But I knew at the time that I could no longer play games. I was serious and didn't care who knew it! That part of the battle was won.
Several weeks later, after crying and praying for days, I was in the center bedroom of our house. My books were stored in a closet, and as I looked at my vast library of Puritan writers I said to myself, "What good are these books doing me? I'm still a lost sinner." Then I read Matthew 11:28 I cried, "Lord, You alone know that I'm coming, I'm laboring and have a terrible burden of sin, and I need rest. How can I take thy yoke? I don't even know what that yoke is. I have no strength, no faith. Lord, just send me on to Hell where I belong, for I cannot believe." It must be for that moment I was truly sincere, for that blessed voice which said "You are lost," now spoke again, and He said "I died for you." My first reaction was to pray for mercy, but I couldn't; instead, my heart just wanted to reach out to Him and thank God for deliverance in Christ. I began to praise Him for His great salvation. But I dared not tell anyone for several weeks, afraid that I might yet be deceived.
I was bursting inside to tell everyone what God had done for me. Finally I did so, and have been telling it ever since. The learning process never ceases, for the more I learn of myself the greater my Redeemer is to me. I still want to sing praises to my precious Lord Jesus Christ. I sought Christ and knew not how real He is, but now I know and understand that the desire and strength to seek Him was given to me by His sovereign mercy.
The first thing the Holy Spirit does is to open the heart of the sinner (Acts 16:14) and reveal what is inside, then when the sinner is broken before Him and comes to the end of his fleshly way, the Lord gives him faith to believe on Christ as Lord and Saviour. Now we see that others are awakened and desire to come to Christ. There are none beyond God's power to save, but He and He alone must do the work!
(Words of Richard J. Heigl, Sr. beloved brother, retired custodian of H.L. Bourgeois High School, pastor of a little group of the Lord's people, known as truth Baptist Church)
MERCY BESTOWED In the beginning, the Father elected The Son became a curse on the tree The Holy Spirit called and convicted, And Mercy said, "Let that sinner go free." Judgment hangs low o'er that guilty sinner, The Law cries, 'He's never, never kept me." No hope in sight, but cannot quit pleading, Then Mercy says, "Let that sinner go free." Blinded by sin and Satan our father, Doomed and damned forever to be A Substitute died on Calvary's mountain, Now Mercy says, "Let that sinner go free." Mercy Bestowed On A Lost, Guilty Sinner, When that sinner faces reality. When justice declares, "I'll keep him forever," But Mercy says, "Let that sinner go free." --Song by the late brother Edward Hale
Samart Funeral Home of Houma, West Park is in charge of arrangements. To send flowers to the family of Richard, please visit our floral store. Published by Samart Funeral Home of Houma - Bayou Blue on Apr. 21, 2022.
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shammah8 · 2 months
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You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
Matthew 5:13
BEING SALT OF THE EARTH
Jesus is making a statement of fact here when he says, “You are the salt of the earth!” It is not a command or wish list. It is to be reality here and now. The implication is that we are to be what God has already made us to be.
 
The context is Christians facing persecution. Their numbers are small and they are insignificant. Salt is cheap in some places and expensive in others. We have the saying that a man is worth his weight in salt! Its value may vary yet it has unusual properties that far exceed its value.
 
This is what should happen when Christians take their stand for God in society. That stand for good renders society infertile for the growth of evil and ungodly influences. When England went through revival under the ministry of the Wesley’s and George Whitefield in the 18th century, a possible bloody revolution such as afflicted France was averted.
 
Usually it happens on a more moderate scale. Conversations moderated, consciences pricked, respect for others heightened.
 
The disciples of Christ do not remain silent about their faith. They do not hide themselves, but live and work in places where their influence may be felt. The light that is in them can then be most fully manifested to others so that they may see that light of real Christian goodness. It is a light not of this world but coming from God, and may in consequence be led to give honour and praise to its Giver.
 
I was blessed to visit a seminary in Indonesia that reflects this teaching of Jesus. They are surrounded by a Muslim community where many live in poverty. Rather than live in an isolated enclave, the school and students serve this community with the love of Jesus. They teach literacy lessons; they provide first-aid medical care; they distribute food and clothing to the hungry and naked.
 
During an outbreak of violence by extremists against churches in the area, an angry Muslim mob approached the seminary one night chanting their slogans and waving their machetes. When they arrived at the buildings, they found a circle of Muslim people surrounding the campus holding hands in a large circle. They said to the extremists, “We will not allow you to destroy this school. These people help us and our children with all our needs. You may not harm them!” The mob disappeared.
 
Being salt and light in community also has its rewards.
Response
Today I resolve to live my life for Jesus in a way that will positively “salt” my community.
Prayer
Help me, Lord, to stand for the good and be a salty influence for You in the world around me.
© 2013 Open Doors International. Used by permission.
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mothereliza · 2 months
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Engrave in us clean hearts, O God!
(Readings: Jeremiah 31:31-34; Psalm 51:1-13 John 12:20-33)
This Sunday is the fifth week of Lent. We are now at the end of Jesus' public ministry, signaled by the arrival of "men from Greece" requesting to see Jesus. Asking to see Jesus seems a simple enough request. Nicodemus came to Jesus at night for various reasons, mainly to find a more profound knowledge of the Lord. In the reading today, John's narrative doesn't give us any clue why these men from Greece came to Jesus, except that they were at the festival, which makes us think that they are proselytes and may have heard about Jesus' teachings and want to know more.
It is hard to track the meaning of John's narrative because he has a distinctive way of telling Jesus' story. Unlike the Synoptic Gospels, John's gospel displays Jesus' teaching in a series of discourses focusing on signs that show both his humanity and his divinity. By doing so, he drops some details about places and times.
The prevailing question in this narrative is why John did not elaborate on the visitors from Greece. Theologians wrote extensively about this story. A comment that caught my attention is that John did not elaborate on the visit because, for John's purposes, Jesus' announcement about his death and glorification was enough. He intended to emphasize JESUS' DIVINITY, his DEATH AND RESURRECTION.
Walking with Jesus is challenging, as seen from interruptions in his journey to Jerusalem - the crowd hailing him with "Hosannas" and religious opponents hunting him down for just about anything he says. Then we have his disciples who, even at this eleventh hour, do not fully understand their Master's mission.
It's easy to comment on [or] misunderstand the disciples' actions because we have hindsight about the entire gospel story. However, please understand the disciples' seeming ignorance. Also, come to terms with Jesus' feelings about his crucifixion, accepting he had a nature like ours. He shrunk back from pain as we do; he had a mother, brothers, and sisters; he had a unique place in the mountains for quiet times and broke bread with friends. To turn his back on all this and set his face towards vicious whipping and beating, mocking and shameful crucifixion was not easy.
You can tell from Jesus' words from the scripture today that he felt isolated from God. John allows us to feel this isolation with the beautiful dialogue in which God's voice responded with thundering, cheering Jesus on. Jesus must die to reconcile us to God because man cannot keep the Law of Moses. God set this redemption plan long ago, and the disciples are in the plans to be witnesses of Jesus' redemptive plans. They are to spread the gospel in Judea and to the ends of the world.
Jeremiah prophesied Jesus' redemptive plan with a passionate and symbolic meaning: "I will engrave my Law within them and write it on their hearts." This engraving signifies a transformation of God's people with an "INWARD SIGN OF IDENTIFICATION" – where God is the center in the holiness of the believer's life. But to get this new identification, we must die to our old self, like a grain of wheat. And plants teach us that decay is not the end. They grow their leaves during spring, blossom their flowers, and bear fruit during summer; however, they lay down their leaves during the fall and accept slumber during winter. Then, they rise again as the spring season awakens. That's transformation. David repented his sins and prayed for God to transform him – to give him a clean heart and renewed spirit (Ps. 51).
Let me ask you what you will do with your clean heart – a chance to start over again? You see – a renewed and clean heart gives a way to respond to God. And it is not about living in a cautious and closed-off way. It is Jesus' way of life. Jesus' way of life is taking risks, reaching out to others, serving the poor, working for justice, being reconciled with others, and being like grains of wheat that will multiply to give the certainty of being seeds for the adventure of growth and new life and the spreading of blessings.
C.S. Lewis (C.S. Lewis Classics) says of this offer of grace: "Considering the staggering nature of these promises, we are half-hearted creatures - We are like ignorant children who want to go on making mud pies in a slum because we cannot comprehend that God is offering a holiday at sea."
Let's pray that God brings our unmanageable hearts and affections into order, giving us the grace to love what he loves and fixing our renewed hearts where true joys are found. AMEN!
A request to step into the unknown for the love of Christ. (Mark 8: 31-38
We are here in a different generation than the disciples in 2,000 years ago, and we have been conditioned in our generation to ask several questions when discerning for a work or a ministry so we wouldn’t have surprises. The scriptures tell us Jesus invited the twelve to be his close disciples, and by His compelling presence, there was no hesitancy to obey. They left their nets, left behind jobs, families, homes, etc., and traveled the land with Jesus. We don't have anything else about their partnership agreements and expectations.
In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus was teaching the disciples and the crowd about the true nature of his mission – a mission that would cause his rejection, death, and resurrection, and by extension, their mission and death too. Shortly before this, (actually a few verses before our text), Peter had just declared Jesus "the Messiah" with no objection from Jesus (Mk 8: 29-30). So, when Jesus began to teach quite openly about his upcoming suffering and death, Peter was confused and nervous, and he reacted immediately by pulling Jesus to the side to rebuke him. We don't have evidence of what Peter said to Jesus, but from Jesus' response, we can only assume that Peter said something to discourage Jesus from the brutal agony Jesus had just predicted.
But Jesus was far more focused than Peter or anyone else; Jesus reaction was intense, "Get behind me, Satan! You are not setting your mind on divine things." In Matthew's version, Jesus adds, "….for you are a stumbling block to me" (Mt. 16:23) – the exact words Jesus had used to address Satan when he was all over Jesus in the temptation wilderness.
Still focused, Jesus addressed the crowd: "If you want to become my followers, if you're in with me on this mission, DENY yourselves, take up your cross, and follow me."
The Greek verb "to deny" is ("arpanaeomai") – which means "to lose sight of one's self and one's own interests ." The Dictionary definition is 'to abstain from indulging oneself' or 'to refrain from satisfying oneself.'
We hear the word (self-denial) more often in Lent when we are encouraged to abstain from pleasurable food consumption or unhealthy habits so we may focus more on our spirituality.
And, if I may say so, the period of this self-denial we practice does not last long. Sometimes, the temptation to indulge is almost unbearable, and even if we take it on, we give it up before the forty days of Lent are over.
But this temporal self-denial we practice is far from what Jesus requests of his friends. Jesus is asking for long-term DISCIPLESHIP that comprises spiritual growth that strives to live more like the Master and intentionally learn from him. Jesus demands it. "If you want to become my followers" – ‘if you want to partner with me,’ he says, ‘then hang in there with me. But you will be exposed to the cross and shame.’ In verse 38 of Mark, he adds, 'If you are ashamed of me – I, the Son of Man, will be ashamed of you when I come in the glory of my Father.' This partnership Jesus is asking requires losing their lives to worldly desires. It requires TRUE LOVE.
When I was preparing for this message, I tripped on a story about a five-year-old boy whose sister had a rare and severe disease. Her only apparent chance at recovery is a transfusion from her little brother, who had miraculously survived the same illness and now had the antibodies necessary to protect his sister. His parents asked if he would do this. He considered it and said, "Yes," he would do it for his sister. As the transfusion progressed and he lays next to his sister, a pink glow came to the little girl's cheeks. But suddenly, the little boy looked up and asked, "Will I start to die right away?" This very young boy had agreed to move forward, thinking that while he might be able to save his sister, his life might be the price. He stepped into the unknown for the sake of love - an innocent faith, if you will.
Thankfully, not all of us are called upon to face the life-or-death situation that confronted this young boy. But at the end of the day, we are all called to deny our self-will and lust IF we want to partner with Christ. 'IF' is a conditional clause that gives a choice between two options, and that choice reflects our commitment to follow Jesus unashamedly - to keep our eyes on him and let him be our guide.
Mark's gospel story is not simply a retelling of what happened between Jesus and his followers 2,000 plus years ago. It is not a gospel for those who say the right words while their hearts speak of prestige and power. We do that in our unique ways, and may God forgive us because sometimes we don’t know what we are doing. So, on this second Sunday of Lent, the challenge is thrown at us to pray about our spiritual standing. You can call it spiritual self-examination – we can deny ourselves, keep our minds on divine things, and stand with Jesus in his mission, OR we can decide if we are ashamed of him and the cross.
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podcastpreacher · 11 months
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Aaugh Its Bad - Now I should but start this one off with an apology, except that it’s high and heavenly time someone say something, as there will come a day when we will be in way over our heads; too deep for us to see a way out but by Gods help. Corrections should be made before you have to explain why? I will be doing a future message on What Is Christianity, in which we will explore how far off the mark we have gotten. For many, todays Christianity is very normal and in line with what they know about God. And therein lies the trap. If you compare today’s Christianity with bible Christianity, you can then see we have an ocean in between what was and what is. And whether it is fair or not in terms of whether we have solid Christian examples or not you know so we can emulate them, is kind of irrelevant. Because the Bible was given us to ensure consistency in how each and everyone of us can learn and apply what is in between its pages same as any other person. The same translator, the Holy Spirit, is available to us as much as he was back in any other time in history. If you let people talk or teach you out of biblical truth then that is on you, given you have the same Word living in you that wrote the Word. Now I understand that Christianity is not as clean nor as simple as this because of the many oppositions we have working against us, but I tell you by my witness, it is us that is most spiritually lazy that does more to impede our growth than anything. How many times has someone stated that’s not true, that’s not true, and when asked why, they say because my pastor stated so, or my denomination stated so, or whoever, but ask them to point to the where it says that it the Word, and they come up short. If there is anything I could say to you in this entire ministry, it is this. Don’t rely on anyone else for your spiritual growth but by the Holy Spirit. Yes, you can be taught, as I am doing that now, but you have got to develop your own personal relationship with the Word least you be led astray, and many, I say many have taken this route.
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princeofgod-2021 · 1 year
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LIGHT OF LIFE 352
John 1:4
TOO LATE 15 – AGENTS OF CHANGE? 7
Eze 14:19-20 “Or SUPPOSE I WERE TO SEND A PLAGUE INTO THAT LAND, AND POUR OUT MY RAGE ON IT WITH BLOODSHED, killing both people and animals. EVEN IF NOAH, DANIEL, AND JOB WERE IN IT, AS SURELY AS I LIVE, DECLARES THE SOVEREIGN LORD, THEY COULD NOT SAVE THEIR OWN SON OR DAUGHTER; THEY WOULD SAVE ONLY THEIR OWN LIVES BY THEIR RIGHTEOUSNESS. NET
We are still focusing on the depth of Josiah’s reaction and its importance in ministry, right?
2Ki 22:13 Go and get directions from the Lord for me and for the people and for all Judah, ABOUT THE WORDS OF THIS BOOK WHICH HAS COME TO LIGHT; FOR GREAT IS THE WRATH OF THE LORD WHICH IS BURNING AGAINST US, because our fathers have not given ear to the words of this book, to do all the things which are recorded in it. BBE
Many still read the Bible and only see the “Letter” (Logos), but only a few see the “Spirit” (Rhema).
2Co 3:6 He alone makes us adequate ministers who are focused on an entirely new covenant. OUR MINISTRY IS NOT BASED ON THE LETTER OF THE LAW BUT THROUGH THE POWER OF THE SPIRIT. THE LETTER OF THE LAW KILLS, BUT THE SPIRIT POURS OUT LIFE. TPT
The problem always is that God speaks the Spirit, but if you are not in the right frame of mind; if you are “full of flesh”, you will not perceive the “LIFE” behind the word, but only the plain texts.
And indeed, the people who must make definite changes in the Church must connect with that LIFE.
Jn 6:63 The Spirit can make life. Sheer muscle and willpower don’t make anything happen. EVERY WORD I HAVE SPOKEN TO YOU IS A SPIRIT-WORD, AND SO IT IS LIFE-MAKING. MSG
Jesus spoke these words to the multitude, telling them that except they eat His flesh and drink His blood, they have no life in them (Vs 53).
They got offended and left, not seeing any danger in rejecting Jesus, nor seeing the “life” in what He just spoke.
That’s the “state” of many with the Bible.
Before going further with Josiah, let’s see reactions of another set of people, shall we?
2Ki 22:8,10 Shaphan delivered the king's order to Hilkiah, and Hilkiah told him that he had found the book of the Law in the Temple. Hilkiah gave him the book, AND SHAPHAN READ IT… And then he said, "I have here a book that Hilkiah gave me." And HE READ IT ALOUD TO THE KING. GNB
Let’s leave the unserious Priests, who probably never read the “deep” scriptures but only make noise about their own formulated philosophies.
Is that not how they “survive” without the Bible?
Mat 15:9 Their worship of me is pointless, because THEIR TEACHINGS ARE RULES MADE BY HUMANS.'" GW
The secretary (scribe) collected the Book and read but felt nothing.
He was reading it aloud the 2nd time yet seeing nothing, while the King was demonstrating like a “madman” in his session.
Now if High Priests didn’t read the book and [at least] give the Secretary a “lead” in positive reactions, why should we expect the secretary to even know the weight of what he was carrying?
Isa 29:11-12 TO YOU MY WORDS ARE LIKE THE WORDS IN A BOOK THAT IS CLOSED AND SEALED. You can give the book to someone who can read and tell that person to read it. But that person will say, "I CANNOT READ THE BOOK. IT IS CLOSED AND I CANNOT OPEN IT." Or you can give the book to someone who cannot read and tell that person to read it. That person will say, "I CANNOT READ THE BOOK BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO READ." ERV
We have so many called Pastors, Apostles, Bishops etc, who are on the Altar and are given Bibles they don’t know how to read or understand.
They never “connect” with the prospects of God, and if there’s danger looming over the church, they can’t see it; they only care about pleasures.
Indeed, God could be angry enough to “blind” leaders to His intentions or impending judgment at times.
Isa 29:9-10 You will be shocked and amazed! YOU ARE TOTALLY BLIND! THEY ARE DRUNK, BUT NOT BECAUSE OF WINE; they stagger, but not because of beer. FOR THE LORD HAS POURED OUT ON YOU A STRONG URGE TO SLEEP DEEPLY. HE HAS SHUT YOUR EYES (THE PROPHETS), AND COVERED YOUR HEADS (THE SEERS). NET
But no matter how angry God could be at any space in time, there are persons close to Him and serious enough to connect with His “mind” and intents.
Pro 25:2 God conceals the revelation of his word in the hiding place of his glory. But THE HONOR OF KINGS IS REVEALED BY HOW THEY THOROUGHLY SEARCH OUT THE DEEPER MEANING OF ALL THAT GOD SAYS. TPT
Somebody may now say: “aha! Only Josiah could have discovered what God hid because he is a King”.
Then I will ask you: who is not a King please; are you not a King, Prophet & Priest?
Rev 5:10 AND MADE US KINGS AND PRIESTS TO OUR GOD, and we will reign on the earth.” WEB
There were numerous Priests & Kings before Josiah, but they were blinded by their sinfulness.
NEH 9:34-35 OUR KINGS, LEADERS, AND PRIESTS HAVE NEVER OBEYED YOUR COMMANDS OR HEEDED YOUR WARNINGS. You blessed them with a kingdom and with an abundance of rich, fertile land, but they refused to worship you or turn from their evil. CEV
The serious point is that judgement exists and people are being “served” periodically, with no one to foresee coming events.
Even before things get beyond remedy, no one is really conscious of the possibility that time could run out on us.
We love senseless “positive confessions” without profoundly perusing the state of our lives before God.
What will happen to us for real?
Rom 3:10-12 as it is written: "There is none righteous, no not one; THERE IS NONE THAT UNDERSTANDS, THERE IS NONE THAT SEEKS AFTER GOD." "They are all gone out of the way, they have together become unprofitable, there is none that does good, no, not one." MKJV
May we not be caught as “sitting ducks” in the flood of God’s angry judgment, IN JESUS NAME.
Join us on Monday as we proceed with this thought-provoking Subtopic.
Keep Shinning!
Brother Prince
Friday, May 12, 2023
08055125517; 08023904307
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dailychapel · 1 year
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Mark 6:1–56 NLT - 1 Jesus left that part of the country and returned with his disciples to Nazareth, his hometown. 2 The next Sabbath he began teaching in the synagogue, and many who heard him were amazed. They asked, "Where did he get all this wisdom and the power to perform such miracles?" 3 Then they scoffed, "He's just a carpenter, the son of Mary and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas, and Simon. And his sisters live right here among us." They were deeply offended and refused to believe in him. 4 Then Jesus told them, "A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own hometown and among his relatives and his own family." 5 And because of their unbelief, he couldn't do any miracles among them except to place his hands on a few sick people and heal them. 6 And he was amazed at their unbelief. Then Jesus went from village to village, teaching the people. 7 And he called his twelve disciples together and began sending them out two by two, giving them authority to cast out evil spirits. 8 He told them to take nothing for their journey except a walking stick--no food, no traveler's bag, no money. 9 He allowed them to wear sandals but not to take a change of clothes. 10 "Wherever you go," he said, "stay in the same house until you leave town. 11 But if any place refuses to welcome you or listen to you, shake its dust from your feet as you leave to show that you have abandoned those people to their fate." 12 So the disciples went out, telling everyone they met to repent of their sins and turn to God. 13 And they cast out many demons and healed many sick people, anointing them with olive oil. 14 Herod Antipas, the king, soon heard about Jesus, because everyone was talking about him. Some were saying, "This must be John the Baptist raised from the dead. That is why he can do such miracles." 15 Others said, "He's the prophet Elijah." Still others said, "He's a prophet like the other great prophets of the past." 16 When Herod heard about Jesus, he said, "John, the man I beheaded, has come back from the dead." 17 For Herod had sent soldiers to arrest and imprison John as a favor to Herodias. She had been his brother Philip's wife, but Herod had married her. 18 John had been telling Herod, "It is against God's law for you to marry your brother's wife." 19 So Herodias bore a grudge against John and wanted to kill him. But without Herod's approval she was powerless, 20 for Herod respected John; and knowing that he was a good and holy man, he protected him. Herod was greatly disturbed whenever he talked with John, but even so, he liked to listen to him. 21 Herodias's chance finally came on Herod's birthday. He gave a party for his high government officials, army officers, and the leading citizens of Galilee. 22 Then his daughter, also named Herodias, came in and performed a dance that greatly pleased Herod and his guests. "Ask me for anything you like," the king said to the girl, "and I will give it to you." 23 He even vowed, "I will give you whatever you ask, up to half my kingdom!" 24 She went out and asked her mother, "What should I ask for?" Her mother told her, "Ask for the head of John the Baptist!" 25 So the girl hurried back to the king and told him, "I want the head of John the Baptist, right now, on a tray!" 26 Then the king deeply regretted what he had said; but because of the vows he had made in front of his guests, he couldn't refuse her. 27 So he immediately sent an executioner to the prison to cut off John's head and bring it to him. The soldier beheaded John in the prison, 28 brought his head on a tray, and gave it to the girl, who took it to her mother. 29 When John's disciples heard what had happened, they came to get his body and buried it in a tomb. 30 The apostles returned to Jesus from their ministry tour and told him all they had done and taught. 31 Then Jesus said, "Let's go off by ourselves to a quiet place and rest awhile." He said this because there were so many people coming and going that Jesus and his apostles didn't even have time to eat. 32 So they left by boat for a quiet place, where they could be alone. 33 But many people recognized them and saw them leaving, and people from many towns ran ahead along the shore and got there ahead of them. 34 Jesus saw the huge crowd as he stepped from the boat, and he had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things. 35 Late in the afternoon his disciples came to him and said, "This is a remote place, and it's already getting late. 36 Send the crowds away so they can go to the nearby farms and villages and buy something to eat." 37 But Jesus said, "You feed them." "With what?" they asked. "We'd have to work for months to earn enough money to buy food for all these people!" 38 "How much bread do you have?" he asked. "Go and find out." They came back and reported, "We have five loaves of bread and two fish." 39 Then Jesus told the disciples to have the people sit down in groups on the green grass. 40 So they sat down in groups of fifty or a hundred. 41 Jesus took the five loaves and two fish, looked up toward heaven, and blessed them. Then, breaking the loaves into pieces, he kept giving the bread to the disciples so they could distribute it to the people. He also divided the fish for everyone to share. 42 They all ate as much as they wanted, 43 and afterward, the disciples picked up twelve baskets of leftover bread and fish. 44 A total of 5,000 men and their families were fed from those loaves! 45 Immediately after this, Jesus insisted that his disciples get back into the boat and head across the lake to Bethsaida, while he sent the people home. 46 After telling everyone good-bye, he went up into the hills by himself to pray. 47 Late that night, the disciples were in their boat in the middle of the lake, and Jesus was alone on land. 48 He saw that they were in serious trouble, rowing hard and struggling against the wind and waves. About three o'clock in the morning Jesus came toward them, walking on the water. He intended to go past them, 49 but when they saw him walking on the water, they cried out in terror, thinking he was a ghost. 50 They were all terrified when they saw him. But Jesus spoke to them at once. "Don't be afraid," he said. "Take courage! I am here!" 51 Then he climbed into the boat, and the wind stopped. They were totally amazed, 52 for they still didn't understand the significance of the miracle of the loaves. Their hearts were too hard to take it in. 53 After they had crossed the lake, they landed at Gennesaret. They brought the boat to shore 54 and climbed out. The people recognized Jesus at once, 55 and they ran throughout the whole area, carrying sick people on mats to wherever they heard he was. 56 Wherever he went--in villages, cities, or the countryside--they brought the sick out to the marketplaces. They begged him to let the sick touch at least the fringe of his robe, and all who touched him were healed.
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renatedagmarmilada · 1 year
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bullying experts
They put my trunk on a satelite naked, unasked which looped, picked up everywhere illegally by strong receivers, monitored day and night sex these radical lechers’ hobby horse with pay no holds barred.
To cover they made a porn film. The boss and bossess’s actions, supplanting my head and sent that into the world’s receivers sounds crazy done by an insane corrupt rogue lab but totally true.
Doctor Meyer, Mnakovitz with Fielding and  Simon Beaumond wrote into the file
she and mother are sensitive, why? it means they put pressure on our organs by laser, been done for a long time now, but little known especially to remedials.. if we go to the doctor for pain killers they lab researcher / remember they have put us on this for life and tied the knots so tight we can’t get out of it / says more women moaners .. and puts on the machine more agony and believe me they are encouraged, not allowed, to put as much pressure on as possible at that lab to cover what Doctor Meyer, and the rest did at the beginning and to hundreds of other people.. who would all sue them if it came out..
another one, They were riding my son endlessly at every job he took. Now he refuses to work as the hassle, for all that he would rise happy to go to work, was so great he can’t take anymore.. so they call him a malingerer!
She won’t take part, whereever I go, they ‘play’ nasty games with their toys, even at teacher’s meetings and lessons I am teaching, even interrupting my t.v. programmes and music, which they have been doing since 1984 constantly..it is a game with them, they get massive funding and have nothing to do with it…. They appear to particularly enjoy destroying anything good in society, one destroyed lessons saying she had always run wild at school, what would I do about it..that is the least of the things they do. They are the scum of the earth yet play with highly intelligent teachers nasty games of scoring and other evil, putting all Pakistanis to a high niveau, not because of experience and usefulness, which they havn’t as yet got..but because they are easier to manipulate than white people, english or europeans! They ask no questions about ethics or moral worth, nor do their ‘girls’ who just obey orders.
rather like the Churches now we have benefits offices, have absolutely no job left..such is human research, our doctors and medical research sorts everything out, they are – and I quote them – merely ‘the States murderers.’
The Ministries have been asked to wipe out records and help in destroying us… seriously and they have done it….
how often has this been done is being asked now
picked up by Embassies everywhere picked up by banks everywhere picked up by Reuter everywhere picked up by hospitals everywhere picked up by military everywhere picked up by t.v. stations everywhere the screen open to even the cleaners Guy’s is staying quiet.
five a.m. microsound came over ‘This an emergency for me and St Barths Human Research lab in London all my merry, mean men and nasty, mean laddesses call ourselves doctors and health workers. Hommerton hospital as well.
We faced seven years at least sent down for intervention into private citizens lives putting the whole family into a technological prison then destroying lives, fabric, physical and real Ministries helped constantly.
But asked one, you didn’t have to kill them dead destroy them totally, rob them of everything Kids born here, useful citizens, loyal, caring and clever hard working to the core they’d done nothing you had asked them here!
If you want to know now we’re robbing them blind of their little left she sold the family home for no other reason except that I can and the Ministries help us cheat and lie to them as I sit changing her accounts.
Nothing will be left but our lies from this rumble what we rob and take out of their bank accounts the lab staff, Stani’s too, keeps in their own pockets so they’ll never sprag on us or be a danger to the lab Mass bullying a great British passtime.
We even got a bank clerk at Bavarian Hypo Bank reducing numbers to repeating the scared Deutsche Bank, trying to find safety from robbery by england’s banks evil people are not followed by their evil deeds We just said she was sponsored.
If it were reversed they’d treat us with respect we know, instead now they are left with bitterness deep hatred felt against us and resentment for eternity, we try every possible trick on them we pick their bones clean.
Annan Kofi was lied to so we could continue the yanks and the E.U. were lied to even the Royals were lied to and how the government and Lords were lied to everyone was lied to, everywhere was lied to to break every law there is.
oh and stop the ambulance thefts from her mother we robbed the money the old man left the widow she’s poor as a Church mouse and even gives that away she’s ninety now and they don’t even complain it’s no fun anymore really.
It’s called putting on the pressure british style the poor devils can’t even hope to escape we globalised them with our nasty cruel programme offering exchange and business to all countries prepared to use and rob them.
two lone elderly women with no support using high technology which can’t be picked up helpless as new born babes as we keep battering keeps our workers and students amused we call them our sacrifice.
The lawyer Vanessa Saxon says there’s nothing not a thing she can do. English law she says doesn’t exist as such, like American for instance where you are told what is wrong and right interview in the law-kitchen!!
No way of dealing with Ministry criminals or government lab cheats and liars permitted with every technology to hand there is Plenty of English have had some stick too only Muslims and Pakis favoured.
Oddly, we had come here for a higher democracy! Parents not aware enough of British history had heard only the whispers of greatness Long periods, a truth too damning be heard Questions implicate many of power.
A knife in the back is the most painful worse than anything from our past dictators especially with their technological rapes and torture An island filled with criminals!
with fancy  names and no laws.
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  Through the Bible with Les Feldick LESSON 3 * PART 3 * BOOK 57 1 John 5:1-7 As you know, I always like to make Bible study plain and simple. I don’t claim to be a deep theologian. But if the Lord has given me anything, it’s the ability to make things simple and easily understood. We don’t want to try to show our knowledge of Greek, etc. We’re just going to simply teach the Book and once in awhile I’ll go look at a Greek dictionary. But I really don’t spend a lot of time trying to drum up new ideas by just simply studying the Greek, which I think a lot of them are trying to do today. All right, now let’s go back to I John chapter 5. And I’m thinking I’m going to stick my neck way out because I looked at several commentaries and not one of them are going to approach this the way I’m going to. So maybe I’m way out in left field. If there’s some Bible scholar out there listening, don’t tear your hair out. I’m not going to say that this the only way to look at it but, hopefully we can get something out of it. I John 5:6 "This is he (Jesus of Nazareth) that came by water and blood, even Jesus Christ; not by water only, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit (the Holy Spirit) that beareth witness, because the Spirit is truth." Now, in these next two programs, over these next several verses, I’m going to try and answer the question that comes in so often to the ministry – "Was Jesus Christ God?" That’s one. And the other one is, "Can you show me Scriptures about a Triune God?" Or they’ll usually use the word, Trinity. Can you show me the proof of the Trinity. Well, the first thing I have to say is – the Trinity is, as a word, not used in our Bible. You can’t find Trinity in your Bible. So it’s a coined term. But, we usually refer to the Godhead as a Trinity because it is a "three-Person-in-one" Godhead. God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. A Triune Godhead, which theologians have coined the term the ‘Trinity.’ Which is all well and good. Nothing wrong with that. So, we’re going to try over these next two programs (I may just sort of run the two together) to show, Scripturally, how that they are three distinct Persons, personalities, and yet they operate as One God. But first we’re going to look at what this means, "the blood and water." Now the first time that you see those two used in that vein would be back in John’s Gospel, chapter 3, where Jesus is dealing with Nicodemus. You all know the story of Nicodemus, ever since you were a little kid in Sunday School. All right, let’s go right back and look at it in verse 1. And of course this is during His earthly ministry, and Christ is ministering to the Nation of Israel, fulfilling all those promises made to them (Romans 15:8). Gentiles are not being ministered to yet, as some would have you believe. John 3:1-3 "There was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews: (see how Jewish this is?) 2. The same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him. (well he had that right didn’t he?) 3. Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of God." Now that’s plain isn’t it? In other words, Jesus has already determined that there would be no unbelievers going into the millennial reign, which is still ahead of us. Now back in the Old Testament that concept wasn’t known. Let’s go back to Zechariah, the next to the last book in the Old Testament, because I think that the prospect of Israel in the Old Testament was still that they could go into the Kingdom as God’s Covenant People and,, in turn, then be the evangelists to bring the salvation to the Gentiles, which would mean that they’re in the Kingdom as lost people. Have to be. But Israel is going to bring them salvation, and that was their prospect. Now that all ended, of course, when Israel rejected the
Messiah the first time and Jesus foresaw that - and so now He could make the claim that only believers would go into the Kingdom, whether they’re Jews or whether they are the remaining remnant of Gentiles. There will be no lost people going into the Kingdom Age. But back here in the Old Testament that’s not the case. Zechariah chapter 8, verse 20. And again the language is so plain. You don’t have to have four seminary degrees to understand this. You just read it for what it says. All right, this is prophecy. This is Zechariah and he’s speaking of things to come. Zechariah 8:20-23 "Thus saith the LORD of hosts; (what does that mean? This is the Word of God, speaking through the prophet) It shall yet come to pass, (hasn’t happened yet, but it will) that there shall come people, and the inhabitants of many cities: 21. And the inhabitants of one city shall go to another, (city) saying, Let us go speedily to pray before the LORD, and to seek the LORD of hosts: I will go also. 22. Yea, many people and strong nations (of the Gentile world) shall come to seek the LORD of hosts in Jerusalem, and to pray before the LORD. 23. Thus saith, the LORD of hosts; In those days (when the Kingdom is set up and He’s ruling from Jerusalem) it shall come pass, that ten men shall take hold out of all languages of the nations, even shall take hold of the skirt of him that is a Jew, saying, We will go with you: for we have heard that God is with you." Now to me that doesn’t sound like believing Gentiles. They’re seeking. But they know that these Jews have the answer. And so they’re going to respond to Israel’s presenting them to their Messiah. But Israel lost it. Israel dropped the ball when they rejected the Messiah and the King and the Kingdom and they will never have this opportunity. Now I do think the 144,000 will pick the ball up during the Tribulation and yet fulfill a lot of this as many, many will be saved through their preaching, but the nation as a whole, they’ve missed it. And so coming back to John 3, now you see, Jesus can speak here in John 3 that "there will be no unbelievers going into the Kingdom." He knew that. And so He lays it on Nicodemus that unless a person experience salvation that would bring him into a born-again relationship with God, he cannot see the Kingdom of God. Now you see, even though this is the first time this kind of language is brought to pass in Scripture, these Old Testament saints had a salvation experience. Not like we do, but they still had to come out of darkness and into the light. They still had to experience a salvation by faith. But of course, there’s still a lot of questions in the Old Testament salvation makeup. Years ago, a Jewish teacher’s widow was in one of my classes here in Oklahoma. And one night we were talking about the salvation of the Jew in the Old Testament. And I always maintain you can’t put your thumb on their salvation. And I’ve never found anybody that can. Maybe somebody out there thinks they can but I’ll refuse to believe it. It is just so hard to nail all these things down. It’s not cut and dried like it is for us today. But, they had to have some kind of a salvation experience, and it had to involve faith. (Hebrews 11:6) So anyway, as the dear lady was leaving that night, I asked her, "What did your husband say about this?" And she said, "Les you’re not going to believe this – almost word for word what you said tonight, that you cannot put your thumb on it." You just can’t identify how they came into a salvation and how they, whether they kept it or whether they lost it, we don’t know. But let me give you an example, that the Old Testament believers experienced a salvation, much as we do. Go back to Isaiah, chapter 61. This is the prophet writing in his own experience. This is his testimony. Now don’t forget why I’m leaving John to come back here. I want you to see that the Old Testament Jew had a knowledge of a salvation. See, I may be wrong, but I think a lot of the Jewish people
think that by virtue of the fact that they’re a member of the Jewish race, they are under the Jewish Covenants, that every Jew is automatically saved. Well, I just can’t quite see that from the Old Testament account, but be that as it may, here is Isaiah’s testimony. Isaiah 61:10a "I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for (this is why) he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation,.…" Isaiah knew that he had salvation; he was a saved man. And salvation and saved are synonymous. Isaiah 61:10b "…for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he (God) hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with jewels." That’s Isaiah’s testimony. He too had experienced a salvation. He had literally been born-again. But you don’t see the term in the Old Testament. All right, so now if you’ll come back to John’s Gospel chapter 3, this was not a whole new concept for Jews’ necessity to be saved, but it’s a new terminology. You don’t see born-again, at least that I’m aware of, anywhere in the Old Testament. And as I spoke here a few weeks ago, you don’t see Paul use the word. You know that? Paul never uses the term born-again. Now he certainly refers to a new experience. He certainly teaches us to experience a change of lifestyle from darkness to light, and he speaks of being born from above, in Romans 8. But he never uses the term born-again. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know. But there must be a little bit of a difference in the modus operandi that God is using. But back here in John chapter 3 now, Jesus does use the term with Nicodemus "that unless you’re born-again you cannot see the Kingdom of Heaven." In other words, there’s no eternal life. Now verse 4, this is a tough statement for old Nicodemus. Now even a well-educated Jew like Nicodemus showed his ignorance, but you know what? He wasn’t any worse than most church people today. You talk about these things that I’m talking about this afternoon to the average church congregation, it goes right over their heads. Am I right? Sure, you’ve all experienced it. They don’t know what we’re talking about. Well, it’s not because they’re lacking brain cells. They’re just as smart as I am but, they’ve never taken the time to search the Scriptures. All right, Nicodemus is no different. Now look at his response. John 3:4 "Nicodemus saith unto him, How can a man be born when he is old? can he enter the second time into his mother’s womb, and be born?" Stupid question, wasn’t it? For an educated man? You mean I’ve got to go back into the mother’s womb and be born a second time? Ridiculous. But he was serious. Now look at Jesus’ answer. John 3:5b "…Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born (now here come the same words that John used, that’s why I came up here now. Don’t lose me. I John says of the water and of the spirit. All right,) of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." Now what’s Jesus saying? Well now a lot of people, I suppose 90-some percent of Christendom say, "Well, that’s baptism." No. That’s not baptism. All you mothers know that the birth of your child was what kind of a birth? Water! As a cow-man, I can tell you that preceding the birth of every calf there comes the bursted water. All right, so you take from this verse then, that you have to become a member of the human race (you have to be born into the human race) in order to be eligible for all this. God’s not dealing with angels on this basis; He’s dealing with humans. Are you with me? All right, so unless you are born into the human race; unless you have experienced a physical water birth from a human mother and then be born of the Spirit (salvation birth), you can’t enter Heaven. Now think about that for a minute. Logic. First and foremost you’ve got to become a what? A human being. As soon as you become a human being you are in line for an opportunity for eternal life in the presence of God.
 But you’ll never get there until the Holy Spirit does a work of convicting and opening your understanding, and bringing you to the place to believe it and then you become a child of God. That’s pretty simple isn’t it? Born into the human race in a water birth, a physical birth, and then born into the family of God by the work of the Holy Spirit. Now when you’ve got both of those together, hey, you’ve got it made for all eternity. Pretty good deal isn’t it? For all eternity! And that we can’t comprehend. I just can’t comprehend it. So, how does this deal with I John? Let’s come back here again. Now, here’s where I’m sticking my neck out and I may have theologians just pulling their hair because I could not find a commentary that addressed it. And I suppose this is why. They’re afraid to commit themselves. I John 5:6 "This is he (Jesus of Nazareth) that came by water and blood, even Jesus Christ; not by water only, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit that beareth witness, because the Spirit is truth." Okay, what are we talking about? Well the same scenario. Before Jesus of Nazareth could become the "God - Man." Or maybe we should put it the other way around. Before he could become the "Man - God" what did he have to become? Man. He became flesh. That’s what the Scripture says. He became flesh but He never stopped being God. Not even in the womb. He never lost His Deity. Now He laid aside the glory of it. And the three disciples got a glimpse of that on the Mount of Transfiguration. But He never stopped being Deity. So when He was born of Mary, a water birth, he became what? Flesh. But on the other hand, when He was born of the Spirit, or of the blood (which you remember originated with the Father), now He became Deity. And what have we got? The "God - Man." That’s the way I look at it and all of Scripture is pointing this out that the God of Glory, the God of Creation would one day take on human flesh - be born of the virgin. And why is the virgin birth so fundamental to our faith? Because a human father could never have given rise to the divine, sinless blood of Christ. That blood had to originate with God the Father. And we know it did. And that’s why I blow people out of the saddle when I tell them that the mother’s blood never co-mingles with the baby’s. Never. That would have taken away His Divine purity. But Christ’s blood originated with the inception from the Father by way of the Holy Spirit. And so He’s totally God by virtue of His blood, which is from the Father - but He’s man by virtue of His birth from a human woman. Beautiful. And it all fits. And so again, I have to answer the question that comes quite often, "Why, when Jesus was on earth, when He would pray, would He pray to the Father, if He was the Father?" Well you see, my answer was and is, "You’ve got to remember that when Jesus prayed from His humanity, He would pray to the Father." Now when He was Deity, He didn’t have to pray to the Father. He didn’t ask God to give Him power to still the Sea of Galilee? Did He? No. He just simply stepped up on deck and spoke to the wind and in His Deity, everything happened. But on the other hand, when He was in His humanity and He was sweating drops of blood, from His humanity standpoint who does He cry out to? "The Father." Now is that so hard to understand? I know it takes a lot of faith. These things have to be taken by faith. That’s what the Word of God says. So here we have this "God-Man," born of the human woman. Now I’d better go back and use Galatians chapter 4 verse 4 - and, oh, what a beautiful verse. Galatians 4:4 "But when the fullness of the time was come, God (not Joseph and Mary) sent forth his Son, (but what?) made of a woman, (so that He could become human) made under the law."He came to the Nation of Israel and He lived under the Law. He ministered under the Law. But now, not just as the human man born of Mary, He’s also the God-Person who would be in a role of the King of Israel. Now come back to Matthew chapter 1.
Here we have a genealogy - and of such a pertinent makeup that this is where the scoffers of Scripture show their ignorance. They don’t catch this, evidently - how miraculously the genealogies of Christ are put together. The first one here, in Matthew, of course is the genealogy on Joseph’s side of the family tree. If time permits then we’ll look briefly at Luke chapter 3, which is genealogy on Mary’s side of the tree, because there are two family lines that come down from David. Matthew 1:1 "The book of the generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham." And that’s as far back as it goes. Or that’s where it begins, however you want to put it. At 2000 BC, halfway between Adam and Christ, comes Abraham. And this is where the genealogy now of Christ the King, Christ the Son of God, begins. Doesn’t start with Adam, but rather with Abraham. Okay, now as you’ll see when you come through here, this is the side of the family tree that includes Solomon in verse 6. Matthew 1:6a "And Jesse begat David the king;.…" Now those of you who have been with me ever so long, back in II Samuel 7, what does God promise David? That through David would come a "royal house" like you’ve got in Europe tonight. The House of Hapsburg, the House of Orange, the House of Windsor and so forth. All right, David would be the beginning, then, of the royal family bloodline, the House of David. That’s the blood side. Because that’s the side that determines His royal kingship. Now I told you I’d run these two programs together and it looks like I’m going to have to. Now in Mary’s genealogy, which we’re going to pick up right away in the next program, you’ve got to turn to Luke chapter 3. We haven’t got time now in this program, it’s down to seconds, but we’ll open our next program with the other genealogy of Mary and it will go all the way back to Adam! What a difference. (Transcriber note) Les got side-tracked and forgot to begin the next program with Luke chapter 3 (Mary’s genealogy) but does cover it before the last lesson is over.
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carolap53 · 2 years
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FORGIVENESS IS NOT AN OPTION And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.” Mark 11:25
Our founder, Brother Andrew, says, “Forgiveness is the very core of the gospel message. I am a Christian only because God forgave me everything. There is no other ground on which to stand…not my repentance, not my praying the sinner’s prayer. Nothing made me a child of God except God forgave. And He did it two thousand years ago through Jesus on the cross. Jesus took all that sin and nailed it to the cross and He says, ‘Now, go, and put it into practice.’”
Poso, Indonesia is a beautiful place on a central island of the country. There we meet an elderly, physically weak, Christian mother who shares through her tears the tragedy that befell her seventeen-year-old daughter Alfita in 2005.
“My daughter Alfita was so beautiful. She loved Jesus, and she loved to sing. She loved spending time with her friends. One day, Alfita and three of her friends were walking to school. They always took a path that went deep into the jungle, far away from our village. Along the path grew beautiful flowers and my daughter loved flowers. That day, she and her friends, Theresia, Yarni, and Noviana stopped to pick flowers for their hair…”
The girls were all from Christian families. Three young Muslim men were waiting on the jungle path and savagely beheaded three of the girls including Alfita. The fourth girl, Noviana, survived her machete wounds.
The three men were tried for murder in the capital, Jakarta. Noviana and the families in question had to make witness statements. However, they first shook the hands of the murderers as a sign of forgiveness. Two years later, the suspects were sentenced to long terms of imprisonment.
The request for forgiveness came from one of the murderers. “It was very difficult to comply with this request,” said the older brother of Noviana. “But we wanted to keep to Jesus’ teaching and because of this, we are able to forgive. We hope that our step will also restore the peace in our town of Poso in Central Sulawesi.”
The family members prefer not to talk about the day itself. During the hearing, Noviana again had to see pictures of her beheaded friends and answer questions by the prosecutors and lawyers.
Alfita’s mother was severely traumatized by the murder of her daughter. She concludes, “All I could do was ask God for His peace, the peace that cannot be explained, that comes from trusting in Him. At the funeral He gave me that peace. Even though Alfita was brutally killed, I knew that she was safe in God’s arms in heaven…After that, when I knew God’s comfort in my heart, I was finally able to do as God commanded…so I let go of my right for revenge. I’m not bitter. I’ve forgiven the murderers and asked God to forgive them. I’ve prayed that they will realize what they’ve done.”
RESPONSE: Today I will confront my own trials and forgive those against whom I am holding anything.
PRAYER: Pray for complete healing of the trauma in the lives of these four families in Indonesia.
Open Doors Ministry
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seekfirst-community · 2 years
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The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2022. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net
Meditation: Are you hungry for God's word? Matthew tells us that Jesus taught many things to those who came to listen and learn. Jesus' teaching method was a very simple one. He used parables - short stories and images taken from everyday life to convey hidden truths about the kingdom of God. Like a skillful artist, Jesus painted evocative pictures with short and simple words. A good image can speak more loudly and clearly than many words. Jesus used the ordinary everyday images of life and nature to point to another order of reality - hidden, yet visible to those who had "eyes to see" and "ears to hear". Jesus communicated with pictures and stories, vivid illustrations which captured the imaginations of his audience more powerfully than an abstract presentation could. His parables are like buried treasure waiting to be discovered (Matthew 13:44).
Sowing seeds that take root and grow
What does the parable about seeds and roots say to us about the kingdom of God? Any farmer will attest to the importance of good soil for supplying nutrients for growth. And how does a plant get the necessary food and water it needs except by its roots? The Scriptures frequently use the image of fruit-bearing plants or trees to convey the principle of spiritual life and death. Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit (Jeremiah 17:7-8; see also Psalm 1:3).
The shut mind and prejudiced hearer
Jesus' parable of the sower is aimed at the hearers of his word. There are different ways of accepting God's word and they produce different kinds of fruit accordingly. There is the prejudiced hearer who has a shut mind. Such a person is unteachable and blind to what he or she doesn't want to hear. Then there is the shallow hearer. He or she fails to think things out or think them through; they lack depth. They may initially respond with an emotional reaction; but when it wears off their mind wanders to something else.
Too busy and preoccupied to listen
Another type of hearer is the person who has many interests or cares, but who lacks the ability to hear or comprehend what is truly important. Such a person is for ever too busy to pray or too preoccupied to study and meditate on God's word. He or she may work so hard that they are too tired to even think of anything else but their work. Then there is the one whose mind is open. Such a person is at all times willing to listen and to learn. He or she is never too proud or too busy to learn. They listen in order to understand. God gives grace to those who hunger for his word that they may understand his will and have the strength to live according to it. Do you hunger for God's word?
"Lord Jesus, faith in your word is the way to wisdom, and to ponder your divine plan is to grow in the truth. Open my eyes to your deeds, and my ears to the sound of your call, that I may understand your will for my life and live according to it."
The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2022.
right in the mouth
“My mouth shall declare Your justice, day by day Your salvation.” —Psalm 71:15
The Lord has promised to place His words in your mouth, as He did for Jeremiah (Jer 1:9; see also Mt 10:20). From that day, He will “set you over nations and over kingdoms, to root up and to tear down, to destroy and to demolish, to build and to plant” (Jer 1:10). With God’s Word in your mouth, you will be a world force. In fact, the Lord will not only occasionally place a word in your mouth; He will fill it (see Ps 81:11) with His words of spirit and life (Jn 6:63). You will be like Samuel in that God will not permit any word of yours to be without effect (1 Sm 3:19; see also Is 55:11).
The Lord will make your mouth a powerful, glorious instrument of His righteousness (Rm 6:13), if you repent. You must cry out as Isaiah did: “Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips” (Is 6:5). The Lord will send an angel to touch your mouth with a burning ember (Is 6:6), and then He will say: “Now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged” (Is 6:7). The Lord has promised you: “If you repent, so that I restore you, in My presence you shall stand; if you bring forth the precious without the vile, you shall be My mouthpiece” (Jer 15:19). You can be the mouthpiece of God.
Prayer:  Father, use every part of my body for Your glory. Control every part of my body through my purified mouth (see Jas 3:2-3).
Promise:  “Part of it, finally, landed on good soil and yielded grain a hundred- or sixty- or thirtyfold. Let everyone heed what he hears!” —Mt 13:8-9
Praise:  St. Apollinaris was the first Bishop of Ravenna in Italy. He was beaten and exiled several times. Finally he was sent back to Ravenna and martyred.
Reference:  (For a related teaching on Seek Prophecy, view, download or order our leaflet or listen to, download or order our CD 14A-1, CD 14A-3 and CD 14B-1 or DVD 14A and DVD 14B on our website.)
Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for the publication One Bread, One Body covering the time period from June 1, 2022 through July 31, 2022. Reverend Steve J. Angi, Chancellor, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio November 18, 2021"
The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements
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katiethxrne · 2 years
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The Serial Killer Chronicles: Scenes II, III & VI : The Incidents
October 24th – 11:00pm, Auror Laboratory, Ministry of Magic.
“What number are you on?”
Katie didn’t look up from the twitching bones under her microscope, she’d felt Ashworth’s presence outside the laboratory before the Commander even entered. Ashworth came to her shoulder, rubbing lowest knob of Katie’s cervical spine, smooth circular motions like you’d soothe a baby. Katie blew flyaways from her face, shifting lightly on an ankle that had gone numb so long ago, what time was it now? Katie squinted, her eyes dry as she blinked moisture back into them, how long was too long anyway? The Auror shuffled her shoulders, hair tangling at the base of her neck, until, with a twirl of Lydia’s fingers pull Katie’s hair off her forehead and neck, spinning ‘round itself into a knotted bun beneath her occipital bone. Lydia let out a soothing breeze between her teeth, sending a shiver down Katie’s spine, each vertebra singing with the sudden pleasure of cold that at least one popped in and out of place.
“One day you’ll teach me that charm,” Katie said her left fingers twitching, fine amber strings linked to her distal phalanx, each one a spindle moving threads through the air. Her wand in her right hand, keeping a constant counterclockwise turn, the spell repeating over in her mind. Vaguely Katie registered an ache in her wrist, not dissimilar to the twinge of sex, when she’d dip into that hindbrain of following directions, a hypnotic state where she’d have to be tugged away by another to register her forearm had gone numb, eyes rolling around in her skull while someone covered her cheeks with their hands, cooing endlessly.
No, not a dissimilar feeling, except instead of the reward of loving platitudes in bed it was the unwinding of the many bodies under her thumb. But the high, it was similar.
“You can cast and control Five String Scalpel, yet a hair charm eludes you?” Lydia sounded faintly amused, leaning over the table, and Katie blinked as the hypnotic state was broken again.
“What can I say?” there was a faint squelch as Katie separated the radial nerve artery, “I cannot be bothered with simple spellwork.” There was a seed of anger growing in the pit of Katie’s stomach, growing larger, gnawing and snarling, the urge to bite Ashworth’s roaming hand as she played with the instruments on Katie’s table.
Ashworth’s withering look might’ve made anyone else withdraw, so why does Katie feel ashamed as she ducks her head trying to blink back tears. Lydia’s dissatisfaction always hurt worse than anything she’d ever known. The Gryffindor pulled her hand away, a splatter of blood marring the back as the threads were pulled.
“Don’t you have a meeting with the other old, wrinkly, war heroes?” Katie turned and bumped her forehead against the ball of Ashworth’s bicep in silent apology, a single hand came up to cradle her skull, nails scratching for a second.
Ashworth jilts Katie off just a second later to circle the table, peering into a vase where a severed arm, thigh and half a skull sit like a bundle of lilies, neatly wrapped in twine with tags in Katie’s crumpled scrawl on parchment slips. “Ended a few hours ago, Seren is upset that you roughed up Pierce.”
“He had it coming,” Katie looked to the radial nerve artery, still pumping non-existent blood despite being severed thrice over from any actual living or at least magicked living body. “Mr. Pryce’s sister may be on Reese’s shit-list but it’s not excuse for him to decide to go prodding a distressed family member. I would’ve done much worse if it’d been me.” Katie lifts the specimen with a tweezer dropping it into a vial, the walls of the atery tapping the glass silently, as if trying to grow beyond it’s newly found cage. She put a stopped on it, suddenly fearful it would leap and lodge itself in her throat.
“You’d do well not to go meddling with Seren’s squadron.”
“Athena was pleased by my trouncing him, bought me a beer.”
“Howell is two seconds away from killing everyone but Seren any given day,” Ashworth pokes the vase with her foot, “Do you intend to get through all of these tonight?”
“Roland’s gifts, he’s very proud of himself, though I would have preferred a live one.”
“Sidewinder is actually doing his job?”
“Much as I’ll let him.”
Lydia pokes at the hand that Katie had so carefully flayed. Its muscles parted and already set aside on a thin metallic tray, the tendons similarly striped and lain to rest beside it, skin tacked to a miniature drying rack so only the bones and veins remained for Katie to pick apart. She looked to the hand in the bucket.
“They’re not the same,” Katie offered as she sat on the metal stool to study the bloodless skin, “they’ve attached a different hand to a different limb. Arms aren’t the same either.”
“How many people?”
Katie shrugged, “That’s what I’m trying to find out because that,” she pointed to the muscle laid out beside the tendons, “is not the Palmer Muscles of a normal human, if I had to guess it would be the Palmer Muscles of a goblin.”
Ashworth blinked, “Explain.”
“The skin, bones, tendons and veins all seem to match a normal human or Wix, but the muscles are smaller almost childlike, as if they weren’t a fully developed adults. At first glance another would think it to be a child, or some type of muscle deformity but considering I found a vampire’s fangs in the skull of known werewolf well… this seems much more likely.”
“Did you track the werewolf?”
“Thalia Cross from Lake District, I personally informed the family. She’s been missing since at least last winter.” Neither questioned why the wolves hadn’t approached them about a missing person’s case, “I sent Redway to search among the Clans and Packs for others.”
“Smart.”
Katie smiles, weary, “I wish we had a Veela or Goblin halfblood Auror on the force, I’m not sure how we’re going to get them to crack on anyone else going missing.”
“We’ll get there, you’re doing well kid,” Katie sucks in a sharp breath, it was rare Lydia complimented her, and the young woman closed her eyes, savoring the sound of Lydia’s voice in her ear, the pressure of her palm onto her clavicle, thumb rubbing a circle into her trapezius muscle. The Gryffindor rubs at itchy eyes while Ashworth brushes a few more stray curls from her forehead, peering down at the macabre display on the table.
“Call a friend after this,” her nail was now tracing mindless circles against the curve of her masseter muscle reaching up to every so lightly tap the zygomaticus major, “perhaps go see Max?” the Gryffindor’s cheeks flamed, “Oh don’t start blushing now. You think I’m stupid enough to miss a few marks?” The woman dug into her side, pushing aside the thin veneer of fabric to reveal a Max shaped bruise along her ribcage. The Vipertooth on Katie’s chest was grinning, as Lydia’s roving fingers found bruised spaces along her vertebrae, “She’s really doing a number on you isn’t she?” Lydia pulled back as Katie grumbled, the distant coldness of the room forgotten in the wake of her Mu—Ashworth’s teasing.
“Nothing I don’t like, not that you need to know that information.”
“Surely not,” Ashworth cleared her throat, “You never answered my inital question.”
Katie didn’t flinch but sighed letting her right fingers uncurl from the uncomfortable position in her off hand. The wand rolled onto the table, leaving traces of oil on the metal, there were dips in the woods where her fingers usually made a home. Then her left palm opened, blemish free and seemingly perfect. All in working order, only the scars of a previous life hiding in the creases of her skin.
“Dispel it.”
Katie screwed her nose up as the illusion fell. She didn’t meet Lydia’s eyes, the tiniest puff of air escaping her lungs said enough. The mark was growing, Katie measured it every morning when she came into the office, scrawling each millimeter into her pocketbook, noting the diameter and darkness. At first, its progress was slow, but now it was noticeable bigger than when she’d first gotten it, it only got worse the more magic she used. The spot had grown, it looked almost like the shape of Italy, srawling from it’s center, creeping up her pinky and down her wrist.
“What’s the limit?”
“…’round twenty a day, maybe thirty if I do more minor magic. Doesn’t seem to affect my potion making, alchemy or apparition,” and thank Morgana otherwise Katie would be a sitting duck, “but it gets worse when I use more complicated magic.”
“What’s the count today?”
“I’ve got around three spells left, just enough to get through the bucket.”
Ashworth stopped, “You kept up the Scalpel Strings for the whole hand?” There was a note of anger in her voice, perhaps a bit of panic but Katie shrugged.
“Wasn’t that bad, the strings can pick things up just as well as cut them if I control the current right.”
“Go home. Now.” The sudden dismissal cut the strings that held Katie up, the sense of duty and expectation of work, all gone as Ashworth pushes Katie to sit on the stool, her near bare ass dimpling with goosebumps.
Katie slumps forward, letting her cheek hit the metallic surface, breaths coming out in tiny wisps as she let the last of the spell leave her body. Her left fingers were twitching, and the blotching curse was pulsating. The young woman studys her trays and dying rack, the bloodless veins and tendons stretched out, the arteries encased in glass and for the first time recognize the whole picture as a hand. Fingertips that might’ve touched a lover or child, veins that pumped blood for them to grip wands or beers, muscles that likely tensed before their demise. With a shudder Katie let the image go.
“C’mon, up, back to Earth with you kid.”
It was like the worst drop from a particularly good fight, when the adrenaline wore off and the body beneath your boot became identifiable as human. Their dying gasps, eyes shining in lowlight as you came back to yourself, tears and begging tones falling from bloodstained lips.
How many times had Katie not recognized the person under her wand and struck anyway? Relished in their defeat, and on occasion in the light that left their eyes, while her own life surged beneath her palm, swelling under her skull threatening to break through her lips with a primal shriek of here! I’m here and alive – you’re not, you lost, loser fuck you fuckyou FUCKYO—
Lydia steers Katie out of the room into the small antechamber, striping her of the thin robes until Katie stood naked. They left them, to be burned, no magical trace left of Katie’s endeavors, and Ashworth took her into the hall.
They redressed in the silence of the laboratories, Katie could see other Aurors shuffling around and noticed a young one entering her lab, likely to record her findings and enhance the stasis charms in the room. Though Katie didn’t recognize him. Her nose twitched, there was an awful floral stench in the hallway, almost burning her eyes. Katie rubbed at her nose and stalked further away, shoes still unlaced and only in a loose bralette.
Katie pulled on a t-shirt, shoving her shaking limbs into the holes, making sure to flex her muscles, snapping bones and joints into place after having been bent over for the last few … hours? Or was it day? She couldn’t get the flavor of magic off her tongue, a fungal umami, heavy and decadent, dry like red wine. Katie wanted to rinse her mouth of the taste, wash herself clean from the magic that weighed heavily on her limbs. Lydia coughs, then ticks an eyebrow up, Katie blinks twice and twitches her wand.
From between her temples a spike dug, ringing somewhere in the hollow space above her ear as Katie’s jaw contracts to hold the spell together, brushing against the barrier of Lydia’s mind. Katie wasn’t the most accomplished at legilimins or occlumency, she’d gotten lessons, but she was good enough to talk with Ashworth or block incoming invaders for a moment. The older woman removes a brick from her mental barrier allowing Katie’s voice to slither in:
“Homunculi.”
Lydia’s eyes widened, just a fraction and stood, breathless until Lydia pushed against Katie’s own barrier who let the barbed wire uncoil so Lydia could march in.
“No one has successfully created a Homunculi.”
Katie shrugs, “It’s just a theory, but… I believe that they are reconstructing an artificial magical life.” The idea was making Katie sweat, Homunculi had once been just dreams, the closest anyone had managed with Inferi. Though the storage of a soul was possible, the idea of creating and controlling a soul, a life. Katie had studied scrolls and tomes on the theory, built an abstract formula for it, but never once even thought to attempt it.
Necromancy was one thing, proven possible, but the only Homunculi on record was created in the 1500’s by mage who had only managed a creature the size of a doxy. It had been quite literally squashed to death by the mage’s child who thought it to be a toy, but the Creator talked about how it screamed and pleaded as the child rung its life from its lips. Hearsay, but the idea that stuck with Katie at 13, a little artificially magical human, yet no real proof existed outside of some barely translated notes and a child’s gleeful smile in the recesses of Hogwarts Library. But the current theory was that Homunculi could be created using the base form of a human, or in this case, multiple forms of magic and human.
Fascinating.
Lydia pushes them down the hallway, Katie trips over her unlaced converse, “Captain Thorne,” the Gryffindor looked to her, “What is your plan?”
The captain paused, and reached into her breast pocket, pulling out a shard of glass encased in emerald enamel and diamonds, “I’ve got to make a call.”
 October 25th – 1:00 am Auror Offices, Ministry of Magic.
One couldn’t go two steps in the Auror department and not hear a secret, Aurors spilled them around beers, spat them in the Dueling Halls, and were famous for cubicle trash talk. One of the many benefits of a higher rank was getting your own private office so you could spell it to be private. These days Micah would retreat to Katie’s original office, the homely room decorated with couches and pillows, an espresso maker in the corner and several desks sat haphazard.
Katie was generous he’d give her that, her old office their secret hideaway from the chaos of the current mission. Micah retreated to his couch; an outline of his long body indented into the cushion. He lets his jaw unlock, feet and ankles cracking as a low content hum falls from his lips. There were no missions today, no sting operations, he was on call with the Medi Corps, but they’d been quiet all week. Allowing himself a second of relaxation, a moment of downtime, a simple second of peace –
The door opened; Micah nearly groaned but decides that making noise was an exercise in ruining his harmony. It was likely just another squad member, probably also here for a nap.
“Show me Evangeline.”
Micah tenses up, hunkering into the couch hoping that it wouldn’t creak under his bulk.
“Thorne you better have a good reason to be calling me this early in the day.”
Micah felt himself thrust back into seventh year, when Katie and Evangeline were stuck at the hip, who enjoyed chaos for chaos’ sake, a common sight sharing drinks in Hogsmeade pubs and whispering in the corner of class with sharp toothed smiles. The unlikely pair, one Micah hated running into during late night patrols, their giggles dripping out of the shadows. It was an easier time when he only feared Evangeline’s temper and Katie’s pranks.
“Eva baby, of course I’m callin’ you for a good reason,” he heard Katie shuffle around, boot heels clicking, “besides even if I just wanted to hear your voice—”
“Then you could come visit.”
“- and deal with the French,” he could see Katie’s feet swinging, boots tapping wooden panels in a faint thunk-tick-thunk. “I adore you, but I’d rather not have snails shoved down my throat.”
“Crass, as always, but what else can I expect from you?” Evangeline’s tone was icy, pertinent, but also laced with some measure of fondness.
“Everlasting friendship. My whole heart, my whole soul, my body—”
“Do shut up, I’ve got a gala tonight and you’re interrupting my dress choices.”
“Just wear blue, you’ve always looked good in it. But for god sakes don’t wear pink.” Katie was shuffling through papers now, and Micah could see floating before her a mirror, the backing emerald, buffed to a near blinding shine. “Besides you’ll have a gala tomorrow, and high tea the day after, and maybe you’ll fuck some royal’s son. Perhaps set your eyes on ICW candidate.”
“Please my family has been shoving me at that gawking giant from Norway since they announced he was a candidate for Mugwump, it’s been tedious to avoid their advances. So, what in the world are you badgering me about?”
Katie’s feet stopped kicking, all joviality dropped from her voice.
“Carrow.”
Micah and Evangeline sucked in a sharp breath at the same time.
“And what,” the pureblood hissed, “do you want to know about my imprisoned cousins?”
“Inferi, alchemy, artificial life, necromancy. Homunculi. These are the sorts of thing their kind was studying, researching. They’re some of the last Death Eaters from Voldemort’s Inner Circle,” Katie stated, picking at her nails with a letter opener, “and I’ve got a case—”
“Then you shouldn’t need anyone’s help least of all the Carrows.” Evangeline was moving now; he could hear her closing doors and windows, snapping them shut hard. “You may have failed your initial experiment,” Katie made a sound not dissimilar to an annoyed cat, “- but you got rather far with just some dusty books and pure idiocy. Besides even saying the word Homunculi is sure to get you some looks from anyone who is aware.”
“You well know I don’t do that stuff anymore. Ministry sealed and cleared me.” Of course, Whiting knew, “The point is that if this was simple necromancy I woulda already caught them, gotten another shiny gold star from Ashworth –”
“To get yourself sold off to the highest bidder for the next job, continue wasting away your potential running in the muck, deciding not to move over here with me where I can find you a real job. One that’ll pay you, give you all the glory, girls, and power you want. But you keep chasing around murderous idiots and getting injured with me on call for your emergency St. Mungo’s treatments.” Evangeline’s voice was near shrill, like a bird, “Next time I’ll just tell them to let you die.”
“C’mon Eva…”
“No! We haven’t spoken in months, and you start spouting homunculi for a job that isn’t going to lead you anywhere but an early grave.” If Micah didn’t know better there was fear in the primadonna’s voice.
There was a beat. He could hear their breathing synching up and imagined how they used to be in the hallway, exchanging glittering grins and wreaking havoc out of boredom on Tuesday mornings.
“I hate you.”
“Which means?”
“Amycus won’t be any use for you, better off talking with Alecto, she was a Ravenclaw. If anyone knows anything, it’ll be her.”
“Thanks Eva, I’ll visit soon okay.”
“You better, I’m getting bored in Paris.”
“Have you thought of Amsterdam next?”
“Don’t be crass, don’t get killed,” there was a long pause, then the quickest most rushed and heartfelt, “love you,” Micah ever heard.
“I love you too.” The fondness in Katie’s voice made Micah’s stomach squirm.
The connection ended and Katie stood, tucking the mirror back into her jacket striding for the room already hollering for a runner to take a message to Ashworth, while Micah breathed in, then out again.
“Don’t think you’re off the hook either,” Micah looked over to see a face staring down at him, a clenched jaw that spoke of promised violence, “you know better than to go eavesdropping.” He didn’t feel shame as much as annoyance as Katie pattered around the couch, her feet nearly silent.
“Whose going with you to Azkaban, Flora?” Micah sat up while Katie threw herself next to him, her weight hardly making a single bounce in the cushion. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Katie wasn’t even 120 pounds soaking wet with all her Auror trappings, that she was the smallest in their year by far. That Katie Thorne had more scars on her body and there was little room for anything else but bruises, and he’d seen those blotchy marks peeling to ugly greens and yellows beneath her Gryffindor robes every year when she came to Hogwarts from holidays.
“No, Flora has work to do with you guys, I want some more of those creatures in my lab,” she spoke of them as separate, strange entities that threatened the streets that they’d proved were once living and breathing people, or at least halfbreeds or Beings, with thoughts and lives. Katie stood over the ones they brought in, near dead or already, poking and proding, separating the pieces to count how many were connected in a facsimile of a body. They all had to take breaks, to step out and breath air that wasn’t tinged with blood and dark magic, but Katie would take up another scalpel or her wand and poke through the mess.
“Call Elliot for me please,” Katie leaned her head against the couch, “tell them I want to talk, privately.”
“Surely you don’t—”
“I have you guys on projects and patrols. I trust Elliot with my life, who do you expect me to take? Sidewinder?”
Me, is what Micah wanted to say, take me with you. But he nodded and stood. “Yes Captain.”
“Get Sidewinder on the streets with Bones and Flora, stay on standby and send in Trisha or Atlas when it looks like they might die. Those two are trigger happy and I want one alive this time.” Micah grimaced, it was true, Trisha and Atlas loved the spray of blood and whistle of spells more than anyone he’d ever met. Then, as if Micah had ascended a hundred feet in a few seconds, the air in his ears popped and Katie was gone in a plume of orange smoke.
 November 2nd – 11:03am, Hogsmeade.
“Happy Christmas to you Captain,” Ashworth crossed a leg over her knee, sipping on the cappachino that had been promptly brought to her when she’d sat down. “I heard you are playing St. Nick and gave us quite the present last night.
“Call me Saint Katherine because I’m baggin’ and taggin’ ‘em now,” Katie flung herself into the seat across from Ashworth, her dark curls plastered to her forehead, “Can you believe Sidewinder managed to nab two live ones?” Katie gestured for the waiter who came over promptly, nearly running into her seat while their eyes were kept downcast, as if afraid to look.
“Impressive work for someone so usually inept,” Lydia huffed a laugh as the waiter tripped over himself as he ran to the counter to put Katie’s order in, “you’re becoming quite the celebrity, enjoying the papers, are you?”
“Immensely,” Katie grinned, “it goes without saying that I’m the new star of the Auror Department.” The last 48 hours had been a whirlwind, and Katie couldn’t help but feel the rush of adrenaline in her body that came with victory. Gryffindors were proud creatures by nature, who thrived on the thrill of the win, and even better the cheers of the crowd and Katie had always been someone who sought approval.
“Deflate yourself Thorne,” Lydia cautioned, “pride goeth before the fall.”
“Can’t you just let me bask,” the whine that broke from Katie’s throat was more reminiscent of the girl she’d been rather than a grown woman, “we’ve been stumped for weeks, missing person’s reports, backlash from the Beingfolk, more than enough bloodshed that I’ve been getting sick of seeing it all. Can’t I just enjoy the limelight of a win?” Kept popping up while she was awake, her boots coated in viscus and innards, her arms growing sticky and tight as blood dried of her skin. Her fingertips were aching with how she pinched and prodded the dead abominations their killer had mutilated.
“But don’t get greedy, just because you got a breakthrough doesn’t mean it’s solved.”
It was like hearing lecture again, seated in the hard blocked chairs, her training robes trimmed with white bands while she and a half hundred others coiled up muscle to stop the shivers of the freezing temperatures they kept the Auror training rooms.
“I know that. I still gotta find the fucker,” the waiter dropped her meal off, a tea and sandwich, the crust cut off like she requested. The waiter smiled at her, their touch lingering on the inside of her wrist like a brand, eyes that flickered to the bathroom until they retreated behind the counter to gossip with the others.
“Steady on Thorne, you’re taken aren’t ya?” Lydia rolled her eyes, “Isn’t it enough that you’ve had two husbands threaten to castrate you just for smiling?”
“You think I’m threatened?” Katie took a bit of her sandwich, first real meal in hours and she was suddenly ravenous, “Besides I’ve been perfectly faithful to Max, she’s a real darling you know. Be a shame to ruin a good thing, besides she understands the work.”
“Keep your head on then, the work will always be waiting even when the limelight leaves.”
Katie chewed thoughtfully, tongue poking between her molars as if ruminating on Lydia’s caution. “One of them can talk,” she took another bite.
“What?”
“Talk, like actually speak words, communicate. It’s a bit garbled but it can speak,” Katie hummed a bit, “did some lighte interrogation work on it, I got some training in that sphere, Roland has a pisspoor stomach for that work.”
Lydia looked a bit pale, Katie took another bite of her sandwich.
“It talks.”
“Dunno if it thinks, but I suppose I’ll figure that out tomorrow, I’m gonna give it a chance to rest tonight. If it lives, I’ve got Atlas monitoring it cause I’m not sure if it’s got a detonation button inside it or if we threw too much at it today.”
“What about the other?”
“Mute,” Katie said staring balefully at her empty plate, “silent except for the usual grunts and growls, though it’s strange to hear them while inside instead of some dark alleyway.” She gestured for the waiter against who tripped over their feet to rush over. The Auror Captain signed the Daily Prophet, grinning at her squad’s profile, the trussed up live creature in the foreground, wiggling and snarling, it’s six arms waving, it’s two heads lolling. It looked like a photo from the 20’s, where big game laid in front of a kneeling crowd of men with rifles on their shoulders. Only this time it was Auror blacks and wands in dueling grips, grins on their sweaty faces, blood dripping over the curvature of Katie’s cheek as she gave a live press conference while the abomination reached for her ankle to gnaw on.
“So, what’ll you do with that one?” Ashworth poured some water, “any thoughts?”
Katie paused frowning. That was a silly question, what else did she do with the things dropped into her laboratory? What Lydia trained her to do, disect and understand.
“I mean interrogating the talking one well that’s real work, but the one that is alive? Still breathing… Katie,” Lydia looked at the girl from over the rim of the glass, “do you intend to dissect it alive?”            
Katie had never been asked that by anyone, her squad had simply nodded when she told them to take it to her lab, Howell was nodding away in the corner. What a silly ridiculous question to ask of her, if she’ll dissect the aberration. The Gryffindor stared into her tea, air caught in her throat, there wasn’t an answer for the numbness that was overtaking her body. There were stains on her palm from the ink the more her hands shook the more ink was spread across the white iron of the table they sat at. Around them Hogwarts students were coming in, whispers and points. But this was their place, where Katie and Lydia liked their weekend brunches and chats, and Katie felt a sudden dirtiness with their talk in front of all these young kids with their Daily Prophets and shining shoes.
“They’ll know if you did, dissect it live, the Prophet and everyone else you know.” Lydia’s tone was not gentle. “They’ll know you killed it.” The Hogwarts kids were still around, and Katie tapped her feet on the ground. “They’ll know you murdered it.”
“It’s not—”
“Of course, it’s alive Katie,” Lydia said her voice dropping an octave, and Katie suddenly felt as if she were underwater, peering through the murky layer of the surface, tension mounting around her. “it’s someone’s person trapped with a dozen others in one body that is alive.” Why were people still looking at them?
It was breathing and groaning, its body had more limbs that necessary, more heads, more organs, it was a spidery fleshy thing that whimpered when she got close, it’s five eyes spinning and each a different color. Micah had thrown up, but Katie had circled, prodding its twitching limbs and stroking it’s hair with a sudden want to know how it ticked. It’d body the inner workings of a clock and Katie wanted to see what the Killer did to make it tick.
“You’re not a murderer kid.”
Katie watched as another sandwich was laid in front of her, a number tucked under the rim of the plate, stark little black numbers on white, a tiny smiley face. Lydia across from her mopping up the last of her salad. There was fist in the center of Katie’s throat, punching its way through her tonsils, through her bound teeth, trapped behind her lips.
Lydia wasn’t startled when it erupted across the table, green and flecked with red, dripping down the front of Katie’s silk shirt and pride.
“I can’t kill them,” the bile kept bubbling, crustless half digested bread and earl grey dripping down the sides of her mouth, “what can I… they can’t be left like that.”
“We’ll convene the Auror Council,” Lydia shoved her plate away, vomit splattering the sides like some Avant Garde painting or upscale restaurant who thought a Jackson Pollock inspired splatter was worth several hundred pounds. “It’s not a decision that falls onto you, this goes above your head.”
She felt dulled and hallowed, the paper was stained now with the acid from Katie’s stomach, and when she looked up the waiters were horrified, eyes blown wide in their skulls, lips in distressed levels of open like hooked fishes. Their waiter was clenching the paper to their chest, nails renting into the back and ripping on the ‘Help Wanted’ and ‘Missed Connections’ section, digging into the comics that Katie always read first for a giggle.
Lydia stood, her wand whisking away their ruined brunch, a hand gripping Katie’s bicep as she pulled her to stand, “You have the work to do tomorrow, I’ll worry about the mute one. Let’s just get you home.”
“I need…” the mirror in her breast pocket was burning their voice singing in her ear, a name that felt like home caught in her throat, the smug lips of a current lover in her eyes, the childish face of a long dead friend. “I need—”
“We’ll go to mine,” Lydia pulled Katie out of the bistro, headed the sidewalk where she wrapped Katie up close, tucking her head against her shoulder, uncaring for the dribbles of bile that still erupted from Katie’s mouth in tiny little burps. “You’re okay, I know kid… I know…”
“Th-they can’t live like that—” the desperation in Katie’s voice was falling out, looks in the streets ruining her previous cool credibility. “It’s more cruel to leave them alive, living like how the killer made them?” Wasn’t it worse than what Katie would do, she could make it quick, find the secrets their holding to secure justice.
That was surely better, right?
Katie wiggled free of Lydia’s arms, rubbing roughly at her cheeks and eyes, the softness of her silk shirt was enough to make her scream as her stomach wiggled again. She’d already planned it hadn’t she? Whistled her way on the walk over, how to separate the two creations, send one to the interrogation chambers to be prepared while she laid the other onto a cold metal table. How she’d strip and spread her fingers wide to control the amber strings, how she’d mute them with a spell and see just how they ticked inside, study their pulsing organs, and ignore the eyeballs staring at her. She wondered if they were thinking, if their dual heads had the thoughts of every Being stuck inside, their body parts sewn magically together, bound by some killer’s fantastic idea of creation.
Katie wondered if she was any better, when the glee of cracking them open and finding their secrets filled her with a high. She wanted to know how every trick worked, how spells worked, how to build something from the ground up and recreate it. The puzzles and ins and outs, not unlike how she explored the castle at eleven, but this time it wasn’t stone and magic she was uncovering but life made monstrous.
There was someone across the street, Katie’s eyes refocused, her skin flushed and ugly shade of puce and green from her choked tears and sudden panic.
He was across the street, and he looked familiar? The dark swatch of hair lying across broad shoulders, a thin aristocratic nose, and arched eyebrows. He had the type of skin women sighed over and a mouth even straight men would want to kiss. He dressed finely, in robes she wouldn’t find abnormal on people like Evangeline and her ilk.
He looked familiar, and when their eyes met, he smiled, raising up a hand, fingernails clean and polished, cuticles soft and uncracked.
“Friend of yours Katie?” Lydia was rubbing circles into her back, it made her want to burp, Katie could probably still burp the alphabet.
“No, I don’t know him.”
He kept waving, but he was stepping away now, leather loafers made of dragonskin tapping the cobblestone.
“Maybe he knows you from the Prophet?”
He was walking away now, and Katie kept her eyes glued on him, the shadows around his feet were strange.
“Yeah, maybe a fan?”
Oh, Katie thought, his shadows aren’t touching him.
But before she could run after him, figure out what magic he was using, soothe the sudden hair popping off her arms and down her belly and legs, he was down and alley, spinning out of existence. When the breeze picked back up it threw the scent of magic back at Lydia and Katie, who both tensed as the floral scent of lilies came upon them in a breeze.
“He wears too much cologne for a man,” Lydia sniffed, “I mean honestly soaked in it.”
Katie used to do that to, when she was in sixth year, spraying it over her clothes and bookbag. Cassidy would complain a bit, and Evangeline would chide her, but Katie kept it up until she’d blown herself up. Then she hadn’t needed perfume again. Katie charged across the street, Lydia shouting after her, but by the time she reached the place he’d apparated from the traces of his magic were gone, the shadows were gone, and all that was left was the scent of lilies.
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moinsbienquekaworu · 2 years
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Ram. Ram please im begging you. What are your tomarry/harrymort fic recs, please. I never knew I needed this ship in my life but you have opened up a whole avenue of shipping I never knew I had. Please I beg you
(Also I hope I got that ship name right, I had never even considered this before, thank you so much for this ily <3)
Oh my god oh my god ooooh my god. Strap in we're here for the long ride
(+ technically if you want to get specific Harrymort is Harry/Voldemort and Tomarry is Harry/Tom, it's a bit like Vaderwan vs Obikin if you see the distinction?)
Be warned that I tend to prefer long fics/that those stick to my mind better, because there's nothing like rushing through a 300k fic in a few days and having trouble readjusting to actual normal human life after it's done. I wrote down the ones I remembered of the top of my head and the ones I'd downloaded first, and then went through my AO3 bookmarks, so that's the order, they get shorter towards the end of the list. But anyway! Good Tomarrymort fics I have personally liked include:
• His Darkest Devotion by Lomonaaeren (45 chapters, 256k)
Harry Potter has been hiding in plain sight all his life, since he carries the soul-mark of Minister Tom Riddle on his arm—and a fulfilled soul-bond will double both partners’ power. His parents and godfather are fugitives, members of the Order of the Phoenix, and Harry is a junior Ministry official feeding the Order what information he can. No one, least of all him, expects Harry to come to the sudden notice of Minister Riddle, or be drawn into a dangerous game of deception.
It's very long but it's so good... I don't know if it's the best example of a Tomarry fic but I feel like the minister!Tom and not-very-good-guy Dumbledore are classics of the genre. Love how the author managed to keep the "oh no I shouldn't be with him" element on Harry's side when Tom hasn't killed his parents, as well as the gestion of the soulmates.
• Kept Man by Lomonaaeren (4 chapters, 18k)
Harry Evans is a lowly Dark Patrol wizard who’s working hard to advance. He doesn’t think much of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister Tom Riddle, but on the other hand, a one-night stand that lets them both get rid of tension seems like a good idea. Except that the one night-stand never seems to end.
If His Darkest Devotion seems too long, Kept Man is also well written but less of a monster. I appreciate the fuck you James Potter that doesn't turn to heavy bashing, that's cool
• anything & everything by exarite (6 chapters, 30k)
Featuring Sugar Daddy Tom and Trophy Husband Harry. Tom takes very good care of him, and in return, Harry gives him blanket consent.
Absolute forever fave I regularly go back and reread it it's just!! Their relationship!! Tom who is still very much not a good person!! The ending!! The mere fact there's plot and it's not just porn!! Literally in love. It's not very fluffy and cute and there's some fucked up stuff but isn't that why we're here?
• The Love of a Good Wizard by SweetSorcery (31 chapters, 75k)
History of Magic has something to teach after all, and two resourceful students decide that the key to having any future at all lies in the past, and in Tom Riddle's heart. Assuming he has one.
Usually I'm not a time travel person but hhhhh. Pansy accompanies Harry back in the 1940s to change the past and it's very cool. Also it has a happy ending!
• Custodarium by Tina48 (26 chapters, 73k)
Have you been missing a time travel Tomarry where Harry and Tom are on somewhat equal footing? Where Tom is a plausible budding political leader? Where Harry can stand up to him and their relationship doesn’t seem toxic? Where the surrounding events and characters don’t go unnoticed? I have, so I gave writing one a try. “The war is over and the Wizarding Britain has been slowly rising from the ashes. Harry just wishes none of it ever happened – what will he do when he’s given a chance to change the past? Was Dumbledore right about “the power he knows not” after all?“
The first Tomarry I remember reading! It's one of three time travel fics that have Harry going back to Tom's school years I always kind of confuse with each other, that one's ending always felt a little bittersweet to me for some reason but it's mostly very satisfying and fun.
• When in Rome by XblackcatwidowX (31 chapters, 164k)
When Harry and Hermione inadvertently tumble half a century into the past, they find themselves in the same year as the notorious Head Boy, Tom Riddle. Both Harry and Hermione's courage will be tested when they are confronted by chances of romance from the most unexpected of places, and unlikely enemies hiding in the tallgrass. Lost in the past, they may well forget the way home. Not DH compliant.
The third one of the time travel back to Tom's school years fics, but this one's ending always depresses me lol. Not that it's not good! I just don't go to it to be cheered up. The story is really cool though
• Kudosed, Bookmarked, Subscribed by maquira (10/? chapters, 67k)
By day, Harry works as a lowly assistant to his boss: the cruel, controlling Tom Riddle. By night, he lives, breathes, and writes fanfiction. And when he's not writing, he's obsessing over the work of his favorite Ao3 author: Lord_Voldemort_. So, of course, it’s only a matter of time before Harry gets caught reading Voldemort’s latest fanfiction at work… by none other than his boss.
The secret identities the tension just hhhhhh the title is apt I did kudo bookmark and subscribe. Also it has some nice references to authors in the fandom, I know exarite and MaidenMotherCrone are mentioned as authors in it and there's probably more I haven't read fics from (yet) so that's a good source of authors if you need more by any chance.
• Of Your Making by purplewitch156 (25 chapters, 97k)
An unexpected twist during the final battle has Harry trapped inside a magical artifact with only his greatest enemy for company. The Carcerem will release them, but the requirement for freedom is an impossible one, for neither Harry Potter nor Tom Riddle will ever forgive the other.
This is going on the list for Tom gutting fish and the creepy thing with the portraits when they're in the Carcerem. That part genuinely fucking terrified me I remember reading it at night and being scared so bad it hasn't left my mind since. The rest isn't terrifying it just really stuck with me lol (also it does have a sequel but I haven't read it because the mood was depressing me and I wasn't in the right mindset to enjoy it)
• draw me after you (let us run) by ToAStranger
“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years. Slowly, carefully, Harry twists over and pushes up onto his hands and knees. He stays there, short breath fogging in front of his face, and his pursuer lets him. Harry has no doubt of that; he’s being allowed this respite. This small moment to catch his bearings, heart pounding in his ears, blood singing. “It seems I have finally caught you.”
I won't lie, I'm not up to date on it, but I should be because it's good. That's it that's the rec. My memories are too hazy to really speak of the story but when I caught up to it maybe a year or two ago I sent the author an overly enthusiastic ask on Tumblr at 3 in the morning and that's a good sign I feel like
• literally anything that sounds interesting by Anna_Hopkins/Chaotic_Smutty (or even their SW fics, they've written one or two)
• ... but my faves are Dark Livestream and its AUs (22/? chapters, 83k)
Voldemort, unexpectedly short on money and growing tired of both Wormtail's existence and Nagini's incessant pleas to eat the wizard, has a most brilliant idea: crowdfunding, and the first reward tier is a livestreamed broadcast of Nagini getting her wish. It is a massive success -- and the people demand more. Said 'people' just so happens to include one Boy-Who-Lived.
This fic gets me feeling the emotion equivalent of shrimp colours. Every time it updates I drop everything to read it. The crack taken seriously the UST with Harry and Voldemort the super cool magic the meeting of fandom and magic just !!!! Absolute forever fave. Love of my life light of my days. The AUs where different choices are made and different things happen are so fun too I love when authors do that!!
• ... Petty Catharsis (2 works, 1+4/? chapters, 17k total)
Harry sends Voldemort anonymous hatemail, trolling him in childish ways. Instead of being pissed, Voldemort indulges him and starts responding, clapping back with witty comebacks. Harry sends him a crude drawing of a naked Voldemort with a dick so small it curls inwards. Voldemort responds with his actual measurements, and a detailed drawing. Harry doesn’t write back for days. His stupid plan for petty catharsis backfired, and now he can’t stop thinking about Voldemort’s dick.
Pure smut but it's excellent. I'm not gonna comment on the porn it's just - it's just good.
• ... and Cruciatus (he's not going anywhere after this) (480 words)
Voldemort arrived to Malfoy Manor before the Trio could make their escape. The Dark Lord summoned Harry up to the throneroom; while he distracted everyone upstairs, Harry had explained, they should all take Dobby's help to escape.
Also just smut but it's probably my favourite Tomarry short smut fic. Exactly what the title says.
• duplicity's fics (@/duplicitywrites) I've read a few from her and I could recommend you some (Voldemort's Assassin Hotline, V is for Vampire, the Sugar Universe or In the Daylight Again are good) but honestly she just consistently writes good fics so if you see one that seems to have a nice summary, go for it (though I haven't read all of them, or even most of them)(also in her series is the "bottom Tom agenda" one if you want to spice things up a little)
• the Architecture series by Saeva (3 works, 2+4+5 chapters, 80k total)
Four years after Tom Riddle Jr walked out of the Chamber of Secrets whole, a girl's cold body left in his wake, Harry Potter married Lord Voldemort to settle a truce between their factions that would grant protection for both sides. This is the kinky, complicated, and emotionally wrought story of what came after as an immortal Voldemort and his young consort struggle to find a balancing point between internal peace and external connection. Also, lots and lots of sex.
Back to fucked up stuff! the consent is dubious, the dynamic is compelling and the smut is well-written, what more can I say. I also recommend the author's other fics, notably Needs Met, because the non-sexual submission in it kinda felt like a revelation.
• A Story of Mortality by this_bright_eyed_soul (14 chapters, 72k)
Dark Lord Harry Potter was born 1914, and was instrumental in defeating Grindelwald. A powerful force in politics, the rising Lord Voldemort cannot avoid him, but instead of the rivalry he wishes for, political circumstances force an alliance. While both their similarities and differences clash, they cannot help but become closer over time, and both have lessons still to learn.
This one is an AU so it's not what their general dynamic and vibe tends to look like but like. It's good. I don't think I could ever get myself to read the end because I knew I was going to bawl my eyes out and I didn't feel like it back then, and after that I didn't go back to it, but !! It's good!!
• I was going to include another fic but it's not going to be most people's taste, so if you're interested in a series with a pretty specific kink that develops a plot, that's heavy on the politics and - heavy in general, ask me again :') it's dear to my heart but I feel weird exposing my heart in public like that haha
• (the bad flirting) among us by RenderedReversed (4.5k)
They're voice actors playing Among Us. That's it that's the fic. It's more pre-slash than anything but <3 <3
• Hand Size by RenderedReversed (1.1k)
In which Harry is kind of obsessed with Voldemort’s hands. Voldemort is reluctantly indulgent.
I genuinely think about that fic on a regular basis when I notice people's hand sizes. Twice or thrice I've asked friends of mine to compare hand sizes because of it.
• How's the weather (am I better) by RenderedReversed (6.6k) (I hadn't realised I liked so many of their fics wow)
Harry's heat comes two weeks early. Unfortunately, he's alone, dehydrated, and pretty sure Kyogre and Groudon are duking it out in his stomach, because that's the only logical explanation for pre-heat cramps this bad.
Now I know, omegaverse pokémon AU sounds like a lot, but I really love it, and if you do too I recommend the series with the rest of the AU
• Sly Fingers, Deft Hearts by Penmanner (11k)
Tom Riddle has always wholeheartedly believed in slow manipulations. And perhaps, in some small, stupid, dastardly little part of himself, he sees them as something akin… to falling in love.
Pretty Lord Potter and Senior Undersecretary Riddle flirt and eventually fuck at a ball <3
• The Rigmarole Dance by cannibalinc (7.5k)
Harry is nine years old when he points at Lord Thomas Marvolo Slytherin, High Warlock of England, and declares "You're my soulmate, and we're going to be married."
If the author's summary doesn't sell it I don't know what will
• Impressions by atlantablack & local_doom_void (17k)
Years pass, and Harry Potter grows up thinking that he doesn't have a soulmate. After all, he's never seen anyone else with a scar spread so obvious across half their face. But life just couldn't be that easy.
The communication in this!! Also Harry with a huge scar is super cool excellent concept
• Viceroy by SofiaBane (7.2k)
Harry will marry Voldemort to end the war. Harry also takes a potion that turns him into a naga every night. This is hardly a problem for Voldemort.
What it says on the tin. Very fun though!
• Thank you, Harry by Smutmonger (8.7k)
Harry realized that the ‘dreams’ were actually real-life events. Somehow death eaters were getting their hands on his DNA and using Polyjuice to please their lord. There were six in total, and each served a particular purpose. Or rather, a particular sexual mood that Voldemort wished to indulge in the nights he called for them. It seemed unfair that the others got to use his body to feel things he hadn’t yet explored for himself. The more of these dreams he had, the more he begun to imagine exploring it with Voldemort. He could, couldn’t he? Harry could pretend to be one of the death eaters pretending to be him.
Also what it says on the tin, if you're one for daddy kinks you'll like this one I think
• A Rival's Kiss by GeMerope (3 chapters, 18k)
From Harry's very first encounter with the Dark Lord, Voldemort has always insisted on using proper etiquette, not accounting for the possibility of escalation.
I'm adding that one for the ending but also the general vibe of their dynamic, the "you're MY enemy dammit" thing is so good
• Benefit by asterismal (2 chapters, 6.4k)
“It won’t happen again,” Harry says to his reflection later that day. “It’s a bad idea. You have standards, and Riddle is awful.” His gaze drops to the bruise on his neck, and he prods at it, hissing at the ache. “Okay, fine,” he says, twisting so he can see it better. “Whatever. It’ll probably happen again.” (a boss/secretary prompt fill)
Right? Right.
• love is touching souls (surely you touched mine) by ToAStranger (8 chapters, 34k)
Voldemort is dead. It's Christmas, and Harry's just opened a gift from Fred and George Weasley.
The endinnnng hhhh still going feral over it!!
So yeah, hope you enjoy, I really like those two and the vibe they've got going on! Come talk about them any time you want!
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Some random ghoul headcanons to take my mind off of things. Below the cut.
-Dew isn’t nearly as bothered by people pointing out his height as they think he is/is going to be. He’s long since accepted that he’s a bit smaller than some of the other ghouls, and some humans, too, and it’s far from something he’s insecure about.
What he does hate, though, is how his height is sometimes used as an excuse to try intimidating him or to invade his space. Ghouls are naturally fairly territorial, so any time he actually gets riled up because of someone mocking his height is a result of his instincts telling him it’s a threat.
-Ghouls sleep a lot, but surface ghouls maintain a relatively human sleep schedule. It’s easier to wake up a surface ghoul as opposed to a depths ghoul, but some ghouls are just naturally heavier sleepers than others.
Aether will wake up only to go back to sleep, Rain will sleepily protest the idea of going to bed and then grumpily tell people to let him keep sleeping in the morning, and Dew is just “built different” and can and will snap awake without warning.
-Part of the reason the ministry summons ghouls instead of demons, is because ghouls are a more communal species and closer to humanity [some being former humans themselves], making them easier to convince to work alongside the regular members of the clergy.
Ghouls are also more inclined to pack bonding than demons, and are content with being offered freedom to move around on the surface and do as they please as opposed to collecting a soul debt.
-Ghouls and demons are known to mingle in the depths, but there aren’t many ghoul/demon hybrids, because it seems that combining anything other than a human with a ghoul just results in another ghoul. 
-Because ghouls don’t form contracts the same way demons do, they’re a lot more open to negotiating terms and conditions, and may just decide not to collect on a debt owed to them because they don’t think it’s necessary anymore.
If a ghoul is particularly fond of, or gets along with, the person who summoned them, they may just continue working with them because it’s fun or they enjoy their company/the company of the other people around them and consider that payment enough.
-Bonus Copia: He’s tried teaching the ghouls how to ride a tricycle before, just for the sake of seeing what would happen, and it did not turn out well. As soon as the ghouls realized they could chase each other, or Copia, around with it, he had to hastily hide it so as to avoid being run down in the hallway by a wayward ghoul.
No one was safe... Except for Sister Imperator, who admittedly found the whole situation kind of funny.
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