Modlitba v Jazykoch Takisto aj Duch prichádza na pomoc našej slabosti. Veď nevieme ani to, za čo sa máme modliť. Ale sám Duch sa za nás prihovára nevysloviteľnými vzdychmi. RIM 8,26 Jedným zo spôsobov ako sa rozbieham v modlitbe je, že sa modlím v jazykoch. Viac o tomto dare v článku nižšie: https://fireproduction.sk/krst-duchom-svatym-martin/ Ak by si chcel vedieť viac o modlitbe prečítaj si celý článok: https://fireproduction.sk/12-rad-ako-sa-efektivne-modlit-a-zazivat-boziu-pritomnost/ Alebo ak by si viac chcel osobne spoznať Boha pozri náš WEB, kde nájdeš veľa odpovedí: www.fireproduction.sk #modlitba #dar #jazyky #haleluja #boh #fireproduction #nehanbimsazajezisa #duchsvaty #prudy #zivavoda https://www.instagram.com/p/CfRxMJbNUYI/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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"P O L D A R K
10 years to the day since we started filming and this beautiful journey began ❤️"
Eleanor Tomlinson, IG
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slate earnestly answering an advice email about someone’s toddler not being antiracist enough sounds like a really stupid joke, but this actually happened and I need to find the archive link
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🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?
Thanks so much for this, my dear @veryflowerobservation. Prudie in the Like Someone AU has some lines that have made me laugh (I hope others find them funny too?)
Most recently, in A Rose in December I liked this exchange:
“You rang just in time. We carved the bird but ‘aven't sat down yet,” Prudie explained, carefully articulating her words to sound more sober than she was.
“Tell ‘im there’s enough bird ‘ere to go ‘round!” Tina called out, filterless as usual. In the background Ross could hear others--men and women--who appreciated the bawdy humour of their hostesses.
“Yes, well I won't keep you, I just wanted to wish you Merry Christmas,” Ross muttered growing uncomfortable of how to execute his task.
“Well, look my dear, I’ve got the wishbone,” Prudie began, then shouted to her cousin, “Nay, Tina! I told you this is one bone you don’t get to ‘ave. Or at least I get it first.”
-- AND--
In We Don't Reach Back (another installment in the series yet to come) there's this bit, which I had posted to Tumblr before, probably on a WIP Wednesday:
“Dry January, my arse! An’ just when were you goin’ to tell me? You think ole Prudie wouldn’t know? What are you, three months forward? No, must be four--yer face is as puffy as a trigger fish!”
“A what?” Demelza stammered, although not really surprised that the woman had put two and two together.
“You en’t a pudge, mind,” Prudie said. “Not in yer belly at least.”
“You mean not yet,” Demelza couldn’t contain a smile. It was too late to deny anything. The cat was most certainly out of the bag.
“Forget this dry shite--you know they say a good stout will make yer milk come in. An’ with those beansy tits of yours, you’ll need all the help you can get, girl.”
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Arenvald: My mother took a knife to my face when she thought I was growing the Garlean third eye
Deidre: my cousin tried cutting my sister’s ears shorter once so I took the cast iron I was cooking on an’ hit’m in the head
Arenvald:
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