#my doctor instructed me to not take it every day i am supposed to do at least 2 off-days

[harlotofandraste]

me on days i take my prescribed vyvanse: huh i feel a bit calmer than usually and I've been doing chores and stuff and for some reason it is actually not all that hard after all? I sat down to write and enjoyed it and was able to focus much better. Seems like I was just being dramatic after all when Existing seemed impossible.

me on days I don't take my prescirbed vyvanse: i am swimming through molasses on my way from the bed to the grocery store. why is it so hard to type a single sentence in my WIP when just yesterday I really enjoyed writing. I have no idea why this is happening it must be my fault.

[linnielemon]

HI I NEED MORE OF THIS PLS COULD I HAVE MORE OF THIS I NEED THEM TO BE FRIENDS POST REVOLUTION

Why, of course! I’m assuming you’re looking for headcanons, so headcanons you shall receive! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

╰┈➤ JURI & NANAMI HEADCANONS!

(Entirely platonic! :)) I like to think that everyone escapes Ohtori eventually. I personally believe Wakaba or Juri is next in line after Nanami, and despite the fact that Nanami barely interacted with/seemingly disliked Juri, being a part of Ohtori must’ve bonded them to each other. I like to think that they’d meet up after escaping, and Juri would make a much healthier sibling figure than freaking TOUGA.

❤︎ Elaborating on the yapping in my reblog, I think Juri would make gentle suggestions to Nanami pertaining her fashion/appearance. Like something like “your braid is pretty, but have you ever considered getting bangs?”, and Nanami lashes out and is like “no, I think I know what I’m doing! What do you know anyway?!” and storms off. But later, she cuts her own bangs (or just takes out her braid, her bangs in the anime are super cute and giving highland cow!!) and is like “damn she was right” and takes whatever advice. Juri would notice and say “oh, you took my suggestion! You look great!” and Nanami would be like “NO. THIS HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR SUGGESTION. I made my own decision, based on my impeccable fashion sense.. haha..” *insert hysterical, haughty cackling from the English dub*

❤︎ If we take the egg episode as literally a metaphor for menstruation, then Juri absolutely knew what Nanami meant and was just teasing her. That translates to Juri absolutely TROLLING her when Nanami comes to her about her period. Either “you’re bleeding down there..? That’s not normal. We’ll have to take you to the doctor and have them cut open your stomach to see what the problem is.” OR “you haven’t been bleeding down there? That’s so weird, I’ve been doing it since I was in three, and I was a late bloomer. You’ll probably start molting, too.. wait, you haven’t even started shedding?” And she would have the quintessential poker face too.

❤︎ I’m probably way off the mark, but I can see Nanami’s hair just being overly brushed-out, damaged curls (wanting her hair to be straight like Touga’s.. ugh) and she never realized how to properly care for it with Touga having a different hair type and her parents being out of the picture. Juri would notice and be like “girl, your hair is completely screwed-up” and show her her curly hair routine! They definitely go through it together every week, and if they don’t live together, Nanami is definitely self-conscious (and paranoid about her hair being ruined) enough to call her and have Juri walk her through all the steps (“JURI. AM I SUPPOSED TO PUT IT ON MY ROOTS OR ENDS? I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE AT WORK MY HAIRRR”) and even after Juri gives her written instructions, she still calls Juri anyway because she secretly wants to talk to her more T-T

❤︎ Neither of them can cook. Like at all. Nanami attempts shaped pancakes and asks Juri to guess the shape she made, and Juri is like “a dog..?” and Nanami is like “are you mocking me?! it’s a HEART.” And Juri is like “… my next guess was a horse.” But don’t get me wrong, Juri’s no good either. She gives good chef vibes, but was probably far too depressed about Shiori to cook properly during her high school days. Though she’s far more aware than Nanami who thinks of herself as a Michelin-level cook… anyway, Juri would absolutely try and disguise takeout or microwaveable frozen food as a home cooked meal. (“Wow, Juri, this is actually quite good, but kind of cold in some spots… wait, is this instant ramen?!”) P.S. Nanami absolutely became a vegan after Ohtori, iykyk.

❤︎ Nanami would so be a designer fashion designer and Juri would be a model, either for designer clothes or athletic wear, probably both. They would be a girlboss and girlboss duo, I can imagine Nanami designing something tailored for Juri and being extremely shy about showing her the initial sketches. Juri would be sobbing internally from how perfect it was. I can totally see Nanami panicking during her speech at her first fashion show, and instinctively looking to Juri for encouragement — Juri smiles at her, and that’s all she needs to give it her all!

❤︎ Juri’s probably mostly moved on from Shiori by the time she’s out of Ohtori, but Nanami is still overprotective. Probably interrogating all the girls Juri goes out with the ensure “they’re worth Juri’s time.” Even though she can be a bit much at times, she truly wants what’s best for Juri. She might even set Juri up on a few dates! But there will be a whole lot of snide remarks about “you’re so much prettier than Shiori, I don’t know what Juri saw in her” or making jokes about how they should run away from Juri before it’s too late.

❤︎ Juri quietly admires Nanami for being able to let go of Touga. At Nanami’s age, she was clinging to Shiori like a codependent lifeline. And she definitely took much longer than Nanami did to move past it, and she hasn’t even fully recovered. Nanami is far from being fully mature, but she’s wise beyond her years.

❤︎ Nanami notices Juri instinctively clutching at the place where her locket used to be and buys her a “best friends forever” (or perhaps, best sisters forever?) heart to replace it. Nanami is super flustered about “you don’t have to wear if you don’t want to!!” but Juri wears it everyday now. Nanami always keeps her half of the heart somewhere on her always, as well.

❤︎ Nanami feels awful for how she tormented Anthy. Her and Juri have a late-night talk about how much they’ve hurt her, what with Juri perpetuating the system that made her suffer so, and Juri cries for the first time in front of Nanami. They cry together. I think.

❤︎ Wholesome time! Tickle battles. Nanami is ticklish everywhere, and Juri is all too amused with catching a perfectly peaceful Nanami off guard. Juri is probably only ticklish in a totally random place, which Nanami has the fortune in finding, but is super super sensitive. Nanami has no issue leveraging this. Juri won’t buy her something? Prepare for an attack.

❤︎ Looping back to fashion for the end! I believe it’s how they connect. Absolutely matching outfits and jewelry. They make TikToks, Pinterest posts, the whole shebang. Literally ‘Besties don’t copy, they match.’ And though Juri gives suggestions, if Nanami truly wants to stick to a bold choice, she will support her girl. That cheetah print is certainly something, but you look great Nanami go off girl! I think she hypes her up similarly for all facets of like. Nanami can’t drive? “It’s okay, all those cars should’ve moved out of the way just for you. Who do they think they are?” or “Yes, run over that curb! It probably deserves it!” while risking death in Nanami’s passenger seat.

And that concludes my headcanons for Nanami and Juri after they escape Ohtori! I hope you liked them, I really enjoyed writing them :) I would love to type up something for any other characters! Thank you for requesting, this is such a cute sister duo T-T

(Edit: @harpyladyval YES YOU’RE SO RIGHT!! Juri is trying to hard to hide her inner girlfail. Like Nanami will make a mistake that Juri will mock her for, and then Juri would make the same mistake which very much satisfies Nanami. I originally had a headcanon where Nanami fails cracking an egg and Juri laughs at her, claiming to be able to impress her with her one handed egg crack… and that goes absolutely horribly. Nanami is thoroughly tickled by that. But I didn’t include it because Nanami would be in no mental state to crack an egg)

[thegoatsongs]

Mina's return to action shows what she has already been showing strong hints of: Being the person who takes the initiative, convinces, pushes forward, asserts herself, and is a born leader.

She had already shown it, like how she convinced a doctor she just met (one who was determined to avoid her and "not to frighten" her) to share his most private thoughts with her. Despite his insistent objections.

On Sept 30th-Oct 2 she was made to stay quiet and weep alone.

Mina has been asserting herself since October 3.

Oct 3, Jonathan:

To this plan I strenuously objected, and so far as my going was concerned, for I said that I intended to stay and protect Mina, I thought that my mind was made up on the subject; but Mina would not listen to my objection. [...] I had to give in, for Mina’s resolution was fixed; she said that it was the last hope for her that we should all work together. [...]"Go, my husband!"

Jonathan opposes the plan to leave the asylum. He wants to watch over his deeply hurt wife. But Mina says no, and she stands firm by her no. 'I will be fine. You need to go. Stop worrying about my safety.'

And she's right. She's able to spy on Dracula and send a telegram to the boys about his whereabouts. Jonathan and his knife being with them literally drive Dracula into abandoning his plan.

She's no longer a princess in the tower. She instructs and makes demands.

October 4:

Go, call the Professor. I want to see him at once.” “Why?” I asked. “I have an idea. I suppose it must have come in the night, and matured without my knowing it. He must hypnotise me before the dawn, and then I shall be able to speak. Go quick, dearest; the time is getting close.”

Mina urgently wakes Jonathan up and has him go wake Van Helsing up and come in his pjs asap, because she has just figured out how to track Dracula down, and when is the right time to do it without being noticed (sunset and sunrise). No time for formalities and excuse-mes, it's time to act.

On October 5, then Mina makes Jonathan promise to keep his lips sealed around her. Because she figured out that she is being spied on by Dracula through her senses. She says loose lips sink ships. Jonathan hates doing this, hates shutting full communication with her, but once again he obeys her and promises to her.

On October 6, Mina says she's coming with them. No longer asking:

“No,” she said quite simply, “it will not be necessary. You can tell them just as well. I must go with you on your journey.” Dr. Van Helsing was as startled as I was. After a moment’s pause he asked:— “But why?” “You must take me with you. I am safer with you, and you shall be safer, too.”

Again she says to stop worrying about her safety and listen. Mina quickly understood that Van Helsing and the suitors were planning for her and Jonathan to stay back while they go hunt Dracula across Europe. But she demands to be taken with them and explains exactly why that's the best strategy. Van Helsing relents, and accepts.

Mina is a natural leader, and she keeps affirming this fact every day. She demands, questions, and she asserts herself. She refuses to be just a casualty and someone to simply be protected when she is a protector.

[lonelybiscuits]

Ooooo I don’t even know how to start. Last Tuesday (1/28) my little got sick. Kids get sick, it happens, nothing new. By Thursday (1/30) I was worried, she hadn’t eaten anything, was refusing liquid and her fever was over 100, so I go to the ER because here in the United States that’s what we’re taught to do. They do nothing — and I mean that. The nurses essentially just tell me that “everything is going around right now” and “everyone is sick” which I could understand, but even with my warning of her high fever and refusing liquids they brushed it off. The doctor comes in and does not test her for anything, literally just comes in and talks over me saying the same thing, they give her nausea medicine then left us alone for six hours (I’m almost positive they forgot us) and I had to push the call button to ask if I should leave. Literally her discharge paperwork just said “viral illness” and nothing more.

Fast forward to Sunday (2/2) I’m back at that ER because they told me to return if she didn’t improve. Credit where it is due, this time they did the basic respiratory virus tests and put her on IV fluids, but didn’t really listen to me about my concerns over her condition and I told them I didn’t feel like it was just a virus. Silly me listened to them when they assured me she’d be better in a few days. And same as last time, no actual diagnosis.

Up until yesterday, Wednesday (2/5), no improvement, in fact she’s not herself at all, she’s extremely spaced out alongside her flu like symptoms. Consistent high fever and over the course of those three days abnormal swelling in her neck. Obviously I get her to her primary care doctor, once again doing things in the order I was instructed/taught, and she was PISSED reading the notes from the ER and hearing what I had to say about my visits (these hospitals are spectate buildings but operated together). She was very upset at the “overwhelming negligence” and bewildered they didn’t do any tests when I went Thursday and said she’d have to take a note of this situation and keep an eye on it. She actually listened to me and assured me I did what I was supposed to when I went there first, and took time to look over my daughter and address my concerns. She said that, while it may have started out as a cold or common viral infection, whatever was wrong with my daughter wasn’t just a viral infection (As I had mentioned to the er that Sunday) And couldn’t be fixed at home. Mind you she is still having swelling in her neck, she looked like a frog at this point because of the bulging. She says she doesn’t want us going back to that hospital (which I didn’t want to anyway) and sends us to a childrens hospital a few towns over.

My daughter is actually being looked at and is immediately hooked on to IV and they do every test I ask and answer my questions. She had a MASSIVE abscess from an infected lymph node. That is what was wrong. She has to have a minor surgery to get it drained because it was literally pushing against her airway. If it had been caught before this it could have been cured with antibiotics and I would not be here listening to my one year old cry at 1:00 AM because she’s hooked on oxygen and uncomfortable on an IV. But I’m here. It happened. surgery went well and slowly we’ll monitor how she does.

I don’t know what the point of this was, nor do I think anyone has to care, I’m just feeling so much and wanted to vent. And honestly I’m so angry at the previous hospital because if they had taken even a moment to listen to me this could have been avoided (healthcare workers are amazing and do their best to treat everyone the best they can, but even another doctor said they were negligent in this situation and I have to agree). I am also am kinda angry at myself, I’m not sure why, I just feel like I shouldn’t have listened to them the second time around? I don’t know, but that’s where I am.

[gittetj]

I have a herniated disk in my spineee and have been unable to sit or stand still for more than a few minutes at a time for like a month. It sucks, nerve pain is a confusing and obnoxious thing, let me vent about medication and stuff...

Apparently I react very strangely to both pain and pain medication. When I was in the ER, both doctors who examined me were confused that I could walk. They sent me home with a gabapentin prescription and gabapentin isn't even supposed to make any difference until you take at least 900mg a day, but the very first pill knocked me out and almost immediately helped. Increasing the dose to 900mg completely took the nerve pain, but replaced it with nausea and dizziness whenever I did something that would usually hurt + gave me 50% of the common side effects + I'm pretty sure it was reacting with some of my bipolar meds because I was getting depression symptoms all of a sudden. My gp was like yyeeaahhh, let's try something else. Problem is, there's very little else to try, since most other strong pain meds definitely react with my brain meds. So then my gp prescribed me morphine and I was like damn, morphine, the big bad of medicine, I really don't want to deal with having to take this for any extended period of time, everyone says it fucks up your stomach, puts you to sleep, and gives withdrawal symptoms. So I put it off and got by on paracetamols for a couple days, until last night where my entire leg stung so bad I couldn't sleep and I was like fine, let's go morphine, knock me out. But morphine did not knock me out even a little bit and was a less effective pain relief than an average 400mg of ibuprofen. Disappointing. Double disappointing that I'm out of pain meds to try now. I can go back to experimenting with gabapentin or I can slowly give myself lithium poisoning and destroy my intestines by taking ibuprofen all the time :D Or I can just be in more pain, I guess, but I tried that for a while before it got so bad I was sent to the ER and it did not improve the situation.

Uff. I am so bad at being injured. It's exactly the same as every time I'm in mental anguish - like, what do you meannn I have to take it easy? What do you mean I have to be patient?? Every time I feel a little better it takes everything in my power to keep myself from running outside and ruining the progress.

Also, doctors need to stop giving vague instructions to people with herniated disks like "oh you should move as much as you can, it's okay if it hurts" when by "hurt" they mean "discomfort", because some of us (me) are dumb and/or do not experience pain in the same way as other people apparently do and can and will drag their partially malfunctioning leg for a 6km walk

[woodsfae]

If you haven't had a hysterectomy, it's hard to even conceptualize how intense the recovery is. My doc says, in impact on the body, it's second only to open heart surgeries and limb amputations! (particularly when the cervix is removed, which mine was)

The weekend before my surgery, I mountain biked 35 miles. I was tired, sure. But fine. As my pain rose over the years, my physical activity didn't really drop. Instead, I just became more and more body-blind as I ignored higher and higher levels of pain to push through.

That isn't an option with recovering from a hysto. After my hysterectomy, my physical restrictions were: no bending/twisting/reaching at all. No lifting more than 10 pounds (I soon revised that down, because lifting even a gallon of milk hurt). I was instructed to spend most of my time in bed. To go for a few walks a day, but to get back into bed after my walks. Whenever I felt pain I was supposed to go lie down again, which meant that I didn't sit up for more than 45 minutes until I was nearly a month post-op. And total pelvic rest. I was supposed to disengage my core and back muscles as much as possible to let all the delicate things that got chopped n sewed together time to heal back up. None of my restrictions were lifted till I was 7 wks post op.

My partner took 100% care of me during this time. He lifted my legs in and out of bed. Laid me down and sat me up whenever I needed to adjust. In the first couple of days, he helped me onto and off the toilet, till I figured out how to get up without using my abs. He lowered me onto the couch and pulled me off. Took care of all the grocery shopping, cooking, and cleaning. He kept track of my meds, got up every few hours all night to get me my pain meds until I could sleep through the night without needing a dose. He did this all with such tenderness! Hugs, kisses, and he held me gently whenever I could be comfortably arranged to be held. He brought me coffee in bed every morning and helped me sit up, and fixed my pillows just so. I cannot express how meaningful this was to me. no one has ever taken care of me like this. Not even my own parents.

I have hyper-independence as a trauma response to my neglectful childhood, and in preparation for my surgery, I almost meditated on accepting help and not trying to do things myself. My doctor was very clear that my best outcomes for surgery were to not do anything but rest and go for walks! Partner was an enthusiastic support in that. He would gently chide me if I got myself out of bed or got myself dressed. He never made me feel like taking care of me was an imposition. He told me to have friends over as much as I wanted, but not to arrange a care rotation: he would take care of me.

The experience of being cared for so gently, so lovingly, so intentionally has rewired my brain. It has changed me, and I can't even quantify the hows and whys of it all yet.

There have been many unforeseen impacts of my hysto, but one of the most profound is that I know I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.

[killerandhealerqueen]

Hey! hope you're having a lovely day <3

if you wouldn't mind I'd love to know what masquerade and how far i'll go are about :)

Oh hi dear! I am having a wonderful morning so far, thank you!

Now Masquerade is a carlando mafia x hitman au (I love my mafia aus and my hitman aus) where Lando (hitman) is instructed to attend this masquerade ball where he’s then supposed to assassinate Carlos (mafia boss). When he finds Carlos (or more like Carlos finds him) it’s like…instant attraction/curiosity. They kinda flirt the whole night and Lando doesn’t end up killing Carlos then. After that, Lando kinda spends almost the entire fic trying (key word TRYING) to kill Carlos but he can’t because he’s like…fallen for him. And he thinks Carlos feels the same. His bosses get word that Carlos isn’t dead yet so they bring in Lando and demand to know WHY he hasn’t killed Carlos and Lando’s just like “I won’t” so…his bosses attack him/have other hitmen attack him and he runs, very fucking injured, to Carlos, who promises to protect him and take out those that hurt him. Happy endings, Carlos and Lando get together, Lanso joins Carlos’ mob and they become the most feared duo in the criminal underground.

How Far I’ll Go is kind of a hero x villain au for Killer and Healer where Jiang Yuelou is a villain who gets very badly injured and is saved by Chen Yuzhi, a doctor/hero who can heal people but in doing so, it slowly begins to cost him his mana/life force (but he doesn’t tell Jiang Yuelou that). So any time he’s injured, Jiang Yuelou comes to Chen Yuzhi for healing/to flirt with him because the doctor is cute and he likes talking to him and every time Chen Yuzhi heals him but slowly gets weaker. Then one day, Chen Yuzhi is kidnapped by some people/villains who hear about his ability and they decide to keep him and force him to heal them anytime they get injured (and they make sure to get VERY injured/almost to the brink of death so that Chen Yuzhi is forced to use HIS life to save theirs). When Jiang Yuelou finds out what happened, he’s fucking LIVID and goes to find those villains, wiping them out before he takes Chen Yuzhi, who is barely conscious/holding on, home and sends some of HIS life force into him because he can’t lose him. When Chen Yuzhi wakes up, he and Jiang Yuelou talk and Jiang Yuelou BEGS him not to use his powers anymore because he could die and Chen Yuzhi snaps back that it’s his powers, he can do whatever he wants with them. Big shouting match between the two before someone (probably Jiang Yuelou) screams that he loves him and he cannot watch him die just because he wants to heal everybody. Chen Yuzhi is shocked by the confession and slowly beings to realize that he has been pushing himself more/admits that the reason he uses his powers so often is that a) he wants to be useful (because to a lot of people he doesn’t count as a hero) and b) it’s just in his nature to help that he didn’t realize he was hurting himself. So they compromise where Chen Yuzhi will do his best to treat people normally without using his powers/only uses his powers for big injuries and on Jiang Yuelou (who’s not happy that Chen Yuzhi wants to use his powers on him but Chen Yuzhi is adamant so he agrees (and secretly replenishes his life force whenever he sees Chen Yuzhi getting weak/tired). Happy endings, lots of angst…good times

WIP TAG MEME | ask me about my wips

[newsies-are-the-new-best-thing]

Saving others and yourself

Part 5 of my trans Davey series, 'my courage, found'

<prev & next> masterlist

Trigger Warnings: minor misgendering, mentioned character injury, unsafe binding possibly.

-----------------

Everything is much too busy. Hurried footsteps crash around at all hours. Worried mutters a constant buzz between the adults. Davey is trapped in the middle of it all, unhearing, unmoving. He has no idea what he is supposed to do. Should he help tend to his father? Should he cook for his mother? There are no instructions to follow yet, everything tentative. Fear and worry hang heavy in the air, dampening the apartment, an oppressive smog that Davey wishes would disappear. Neighbors come and go, friends and other family visiting in a loud flurry, leaving mountains of food, and whispered prayers in their wake. Tears are a stagnant constant in his eyes, refusing to fall, burning in grief and fear. His heart has stopped, no longer quick to race, a hardened weight inside. In the end standing still gets him no where and he ends up being forced into the kitchen, cramped together with all the women who come to visit, ignoring the twist of familiar discomfort curling inside, and told to make himself useful.

He winds up learning as much as he can on unions, desperate to understand how his father could be fired for being injured, desperate to be useful in a different way in the future. With the recent trolly strike being reported in near every major paper all he had to do was beg and barter with his brother to go out and buy a ‘pape for him, afraid of running into a newsie he knew, and then he read. Throwing himself into consuming every new paper at any free chance he had in those first few, terrible days, he read and re-read the struggles the workers were facing, why they were doing what they were, what a union did, and everything else he could find.

And so, the week begins to slowly pass. And Davey sees his mother’s face being etched with worry as she shuffles through the bills that were beginning to pile up and the dwindling savings. His father will not die, his family is assured by the doctor, but he will be unable to stand for longer than a few minutes for at least a month, being currently confined to bed. And with this, Davey feels a crushing weight slip off his shoulders and a new one press down. Pushing aside his twisting gut and the stacking heaviness, Davey allows his mother to sit him down with his siblings, catching a glance of his sister’s face, an amalgam of uneasiness and concern. The dining table they are surrounding has been worn by time, and Davey let’s his hands trace the familiar grain, hoping to calm himself. It’s nearing noon by now, bright light filtering into the kitchen, alarmed neighbors having taken most of the morning trying to comfort their mother.

“With your father injured and out of work I am afraid that I will have to go out and get work.” His mother breathes out, face turned downwards, clutching a cup of tea that has long since cooled.

His heart cracks, splintering more than it already has, to see his mother defeated by the world in such an awful way.

“Ma,” he begins, forcing away his own pain, clearing his mind “we will do whatever you want us to. But you have to take care of yourself, this situation has been dreadful, but you can’t go out and wear yourself down while we stay here perfectly capable. I’m sure that we can find work somewhere, there is no need to exhaust yourself when we can help.”

His mother looks up, saddened eyes meeting his, and she nods slightly, frowning. Les and Sarah have both turned to stare at him as well, firm looks fixed on their faces.

“I’m sure that me and Davey can find work cleaning or sewing, and Les is sure to be a good newsie.” Sarah states, moving to clutch their mother’s hand in hers.

A sinking knot, tangles inside but Davey pays it no mind, pushing it far away as he had for the past few days, there is no time for his own discomfort, he thinks.

“I am so sorry for asking you to do this” his mother says, reaching into her pocket for a handkerchief, and dabbing at her eyes. “You should be in school, should be children.”

“Sarah and I are practically fully grown Ma, I think it’s time for us to face the world.” Davey replies.

“…. Mrs. Cohen had asked about you watching her youngest children for a few hours every day, had offered to pay you for it, Sarah” their mother tells Sarah after a few moments of silence.

“That sounds like a fine plan to me” Sarah responds, gently smiling.

“And Davey,” their mother looks at him, face lighter and shoulders relaxed “There is sure to be work in the garment district. You and Les can go out looking tomorrow.”

Davey nods his head. Les looks excited, possibly too much, at the opportunity to work but Davey is just glad that he no longer looks as frightened as he had earlier in the week. He continues to discuss the details with his mother and sister, laying out a plan where he was to drop Les off at the distribution gate to sell ‘papes and then find work in the garment district or at one of the shops nearby. Sarah would stay home and care for their father and then work in the afternoons, allowing their mother to find rest after the terrible week they had.

That night, as the city begins to slow down, a blanket of stars sweeping over the sky, the crisp air begins to chill Davey’s tiny room. Rough floorboards do little to capture any warmth and Davey finds himself burrowing under his thinning covers soon after he’s retired to sleep. He’s sure that Sarah and Les are perfectly warm in their room but even the harkening summer season has its cold nights and Davey wonders if the newsies are feeling any better. With a sigh, Davey lets himself wonder what tomorrow will bring, he will do whatever he has to, to care for his family, even if that means pushing aside his own storm of feelings. But he also knows how absent he can be when he’s pushed into his role, how many dangerous mistakes could happen if he were to sink too far away again, unaware, and unable to escape the haze he finds himself settle into and stop himself. A flipping knot of worry takes up residence in his gut and he turns over, trying to find some sort of rest. There is no resolution to this problem, he cannot seem to find a solution where he can help support his family and be himself. He chides himself in his mind when he finds himself plagued by this problem. It’s selfish, really, he thinks, to be dwelling on such struggles when his father is still injured. The worries still weigh on his mind.

He doesn’t find much sleep that night, waking groggy and tired the next morning, worry still twisted around inside. A new worry has sprung from his restless night and stayed stuck in his mind, if Les is to find work as a newsie what is stopping him from meeting Jack and connecting the dots or bringing someone Davey knows back home. It seems farfetched, at least a little bit, but he can’t dismiss it as he joins his sister in the kitchen to help with breakfast.

After eating, his mother and sister waltz into his room and rummage around in his small dresser, laying out the nicest day clothes they can find. His heart leaps every time they pick through his clothes, fear gnawing in his stomach. But thankfully, they do not discover his roll of fabric concealing his other clothes. Instead, his mother coos over how wonderful he looks after he forces himself to dress, smoothing down the skirts he’s trying desperately to forget he is wearing. His sister ends up fixing one of her small broaches to his shirt, smiling quietly at him. His heart lurches at the gesture, guilt raising its head when he can’t quite seem to find the same joy in the way he looks that his sister and mother do. As they leave, Les bubbling with excitement, his mother pushes a few cents into his hand, and then they are shooed out the door with wishes of luck.

Outside its bouncing with a wild energy, summer beginning to fully show despite the cold night, sun bright and near blinding as it enters the sky. Rays dusting over the top of buildings, catching and dancing into the dozens of shadows of the crowds rushing about. A warmth is hinted upon the city air, a promise of something new, something good, and Davey let’s himself relax slightly, comforted by the atmosphere of the city.

He has a hasty plan of how to escape the crushing feeling of pretending to be someone he is not, an idea that came late last night in the pressing darkness and had refused to be silenced. Desperate and absurd, the idea is sure to only work if he lets Les know who he is. It’s a terrifying thought, to let his brother in on something as large, as personal, as intricate as the secret he holds. His heart begins to speed up just thinking about it, but he shoves it aside, trying to not dwell on what he is about to do. Ignoring his growing panic, he reminds himself of the candy-like joy that melts inside when he is truly himself and holds that feeling inside. Glancing around for Les who is bounding around a few paces in front of him, he waves for the other to follow him, and leads them to the back alley his fire escape leads to. Rough brick lines the deserted alley, and he leans against it, carefully pressing his back to the cool wall. Les appears confused but he stops and stares up at Davey. Folding his arms over his chest in attempt to hide it and his shaking hands, Davey begins to speak to his brother.

“Les, I have to tell you something, it’s important” he says hurriedly over the bustling city, looking down at where Les is impatiently standing.

“What is it?” Les asks, curiosity written on his face.

Swallowing down the still present panic, Davey says firmly,

“I’m not your sister. I’m more like your brother. F-” he breaths out and steadies himself “For some reason I’m not a girl, even if I was born one…I’m not, I’m a boy, like you, do you understand?”

Les is silent for a few moments, face a puzzling mix of emotions Davey can’t read and his heart starts to race, pounding harshly in his tightening chest. After an eternity passes, Les responds.

“You’re a boy even though everyone thinks you’re a girl? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Ye-yes, I am.”

“That kinda makes sense, thanks for tellin’ me, I guess” Les says, and Davey feels his heart stumble at the acceptance, worry dying to a low simmer. The world comes slamming back to him, noises no longer muddled but now bright and clear drift from the street in a rush, and he lets out a shallow breath. Les is quick to clutch him into an awkward sort of hug and Davey blinks away the tears that have collected in his eyes, returning the hug.

“Thank you, Les.” Davey says, releasing Les and standing up, “You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone else, alright?”

“Yeah, I promise. It’s a secret between brothers, right?” Les says smiling and then holds out his hand.

“…. Yes, so it is very important to keep it” Davey says shakily, grasping Les’s hand and shaking it.

“Are we going to find work now?” Les asks.

“Yes, let me go change and then we can go.”

A new bought of confusion begins to cloud Les’s face but he stays quite as Davey begins to climb the ladder to his room. Sliding through his window, he slips out of his skirts and into the trousers, flings off his shirt and wraps his chest tightly, dresses fully and then adjusts his cap until it looks right on his head. Aching sweet joy sweeps through him as he descends the ladder back to Les, a happiness he never feels living as a woman, courses through him and he breathes out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What happened to your hair?” Les blurts out when he catches a fully look at Davey.

Smiling gently at Les, he adjusts the bag he grabbed, hoisting it over his shoulder, and tries to find his lower pitched voice. “I cut my hair a few months ago, I needed a change.” Les nods his head at that in a serious way, unbothered by Davey’s change in voice.

“Now, Let’s go, I’m going to sell papers with you.” Davey says, smiling at Les and leading them out of the alley.

Les’s excitement seems to return twofold as the make their way toward the distribution gate, a place Davey has heard a few tales about. As they walk, weaving through the already heavily crowded streets, Les asks a rush of questions ranging from when exactly Davey cut his hair to what type of food, he likes most as a boy, a question which perplexes Davey in multiple ways.

“What should I call you?” Les asks, while hopping over cracks in the street.

“Well, you can say I’m your brother, that my name is David.” Davey says a small smile lighting on his face when he says his name out loud.

“David? So, I should say you’re my brother David if someone asks?”

Davey nods, smile widening. And then Les is asking something else.

Eventually they reach the gate and Davey steels himself for the recognition he is bound to face from the newsies, slightly concerned that Les will share his identity with the others. When he approaches with Les towards the end of the haphazard line of newsies, he is mildly surprised when the others don’t identify him, but he can’t really fault them since only Jack, Race, and Crutchie have ever fully seen him out in daylight. Les is tugging on his arm in excitement as they shuffle forwards toward Wiesel or “Weasel” as the newsies call him, and Davey slips the cents out of his pocket, readjusting the strap of his bag where it presses on his chest bindings at an uncomfortable angle. Ahead of him, Jack is grabbing his papers, chatting with the others, and then stops nearby where a small group was forming. Davey keeps himself quiet, a bit unsure how to begin explaining what he was doing there. When Davey approaches “Weasel” he finds the gruff man staring intently down at him. Choking back the rush of panic that is surging up inside, he hopes that there is nothing to give away who he is.

“Get a look a’ that, a new kid, huh?” Wiesel spits out, looking him up and down.

Les lets out a loud protest of also being new to selling the ‘pape and Jack looks up from where he’s crowded with Crutchie and meets Davey’s eyes. A startled laugh spills out and then a chorus of gleeful shouts fills the air as the others spot him.

“Take your ‘papes and move along” Wiesel hollers out over the clamor and Davey hurriedly drops his payment into the tin, stumbling slightly in pain when one of the Delancey’s shoves the papers harshly into his chest. He ushers Les off to the side for a moment, and flips through the pages quickly, tallying the total.

“Hey, excuse me” He blurts out before he can think better of it “I paid for twenty, but you gave me nineteen.”

“No way, beat it kid.” Wiesel barks

“Look, I just want what I paid for-”

“He said beat it” A Delancey brother says harshly, face a mixture of anger and excitement. Jack has sauntered his way over to them as the other news boys look on in a mixture of tentative interest and caution. Jack is clearly irritated by Wiesel’s attitude and the Delancey’s presence although his appearance is all peaceful charm, protective nature rearing up and urging him to stand up for Davey. Once he’s close enough he is quick to take the other’s papers and counts them as well.

“Woah! Mouth’s right, Wiesel-ly, you’s gave ‘im nineteen.” He says sharply leveling a deadly stare at Wiesel.

“I’m sure it’s an honest mistake, on accounts that Oscar can’t count ta’ tweny with his shoes on tight.”

A surge of roaring laughter and cheering from the newsies along with angered spluttering from Wiesel and his hired help swarms the air. A bright grin lights Jack’s face as he turns back towards Davey who also begins to smile, a warmth growing in his chest when he glances around to see all the boys he’s come to view as friends, gathered together.

“Hey, gives my friend fifty more ‘papes” Jack says, slamming down a quarter at Wiesel.

Guilt sprouts inside Davey’s gut, and he attempts to protest Jack’s charity, but he is quickly outnumbered by the others. So, Davey lets Jack sling an arm over his shoulders and steer him towards the others with another stack of papers in his bag.

“Well, Mouth?” Jack asks, smile wide, “What’s you’se doin’ here gettin’ ‘papes?”

“He’s here to help our family” Les says proudly, sneaking around from where he was trailing behind Davey and bounding up on the other side of Jack. Davey breathes an inner sigh of relief and enjoys the happiness that springs up from Les switching so easily to seeing him as a boy.

“Who are you?” Les asks loudly. Before Davey can begin to lament forgoing telling Les about his midnight escapades and how he already knows the newsies, Jack responds.

“Names Jack, who are you’s?” He asks, stopping in front of the others and looking down at Les.

“I’m Les and that’s my brother David,” Les says steadily and Davey’s heart fills with honeyed joy at the still novel sound of his brother speaking of Davey in a way that reflected who he truly is and he lets a small smile slip onto his lips. “How do you know him? And who’s Mouth?” Les asks.

Jack looks over at Davey, an expression full of confusion painted on his face as well as the other boys. A tangle of worry knots inside his gut and Davey attempts to find an explanation.

“He’s Mouth ‘cause he don’t talks that much” Race juts in to answer Les when Davey is silent for too long. He’s leaning cheekily against Albert and gestures towards Davey with his cigar.

“How come you’s here if you’s got school today?” Crutchie questions over the jumbled muttering of the others.

“Alrights, tell the me and the fellas’ whats goin’ on” Jack says, slipping his arm off Davey’s shoulders and facing him fully.

Readjusting his voice to sound lower, Davey re-counts the past week, skirting around the more difficult details. The others, especially Race appear delighted when he fully clarifies who Les is, bright grins turning towards his younger brother who is still standing there with a confused expression. When he finishes telling them, Jack’s face has sobered.

“Sound’s awful, Mouth” he says lowly, a few of the other boys slap him gently on the back in a show of rough yet comforting, sympathy.

“It’s better now… I just need to make sure I sell all my ‘papes to help my father and family” Davey says, trying to steer away from his home-life and the dangers that came with speaking about it.

“I’s sure that if you’se stick with Jack you’ll sell outta ‘papes in no time” Crutchie says. Jack nods at this and Davey feels a weight drop off his shoulders. He’s glad he will no longer have to worry about trying to learn how to sell with Les and slightly (more than slightly) happy that he will get to spend a bit of time with his friend as well.

“Davey said that we could sell fifty a day” Les says, finally having become fed up with how perplexing the situation is, deciding to follow the portion of the conversation he understood.

“I’m sure we’se could sell near a thousand a week if ya’ stick with me.” Jack says and then looking down at Les, “Sos, you’se Mouth’s younger brother, huh? How old are ya’?”

“I’m almost ten! Could we really sell a thousand?”

“Sure! Jus’ as long as you’s say you’re seven, got it?” Jack says through a smirk, tousling the hat on Les’s head.

Davey is genuinely concerned that Les is more likely to abandon their family for the newsies than him. After clearing up any remaining confusion, Davey has found himself meandering towards wherever Jack wants them to sell, listening to his younger brother and friend converse excitedly. Wide grins sit upon both of their faces as Les tries to explain some-sort of prank he had pulled with a school friend to the older boy who is listening enraptured. Letting his shoulders untense and relaxing his jaw, Davey breathes in a slow, easy breath of the early summer air. There is a soul-sweet relief from the absence of some of the worry that has inundated his adventures and he smiles slightly at the joy that takes up residence in it’s place. He’s glad to be here in some selfish way, glad he can be himself with his brother at his side, living life as he so wishes. And he finds himself hating that small portion of himself that is glad, because his father is still injured and his fam

[amproductreview]

bite away — The Original Electronic Bug bite Treatment for Mosquito Bites Review

🌞 From Scratching Like Crazy to Sweet Summer Relief

Okay, I’ll say it — I love summer. Backyard cookouts, lazy camping weekends, and evening walks while holding a melting popsicle? Absolute perfection. But you know what totally ruins the vibe? Mosquitoes. Those tiny vampires leave my legs looking like I’ve lost a fight with a thorn bush. 🦟😩

Every year I try something new — sticky creams, oily sprays, even weird natural stuff that smells like old socks. Nothing really helped. Then I found this quirky little gadget called the Bite Away®. At first, I laughed. Like really? A hot pen is supposed to stop the itch? But listen… this thing actually works.

Here’s why I’m obsessed — and why you might be too.

More Info Get The Product Here>>>

📦 What Even Is the Bite Away?

Imagine a pen that zaps bug bites with heat. That’s basically what the Bite Away® does. You press it gently against your bite, hit a button, and it heats up to about 123°F (or 51°C for my fellow Celsius folks). You hold it there for just a few seconds — 3 or 5 depending on what you can handle.

It runs on two AA or AAA batteries, depending on which version you get. No cords. No creams. No mess.

I expected it to sting like crazy, but it didn’t. Honestly? It felt kinda like holding a warm mug of tea to your skin — just a quick jolt of heat, and that’s it. And then… no more itching. Wild, right?

💡 Why People (Including Me) Are Loving It

✅ 1. No Goop, No Chemicals

If you’ve got sensitive skin like me (I mean, even aloe makes me red sometimes), this thing is a game changer. It doesn’t put anything on your skin — just heat. So no weird reactions or rashes to deal with.

✅ 2. It Actually Works Fast

Some creams take forever — or don’t work at all. This? I used it while hiking, and the itch was gone before I zipped up my backpack. Seriously.

✅ 3. Fits in Your Pocket

It’s about the size of a thick marker. I toss it in my bag, glovebox, or even the diaper bag when I’m out with my niece. I even whipped it out at a BBQ once — everyone wanted to try it. 😂

✅ 4. Safe for (Almost) Everyone

It’s cleared for kids over 3, and even safe if you’re pregnant or breastfeeding. Plus, the ceramic tip means no worries if you’re allergic to metal.

✅ 5. Saves You Money in the Long Run

It’s around $30–35 and lasts for about 300 uses. That’s way better than spending $10 on a tiny tube of cream every few weeks that ends up drying out or disappearing into the void under your sink.

🔍 Features I Didn’t Think I’d Care About… But I Do

🔥 Choose Your Heat Time

There’s a 3-second option for newbies or delicate skin and a 5-second one for when you really want to zap that bite into submission. You can also reapply after a couple of minutes if needed.

🔘 One Button Simplicity

No instructions needed (though they exist). Push the button, hold it in place, done. Easy even when you’re half-asleep swatting bugs at 2 AM.

🍶 Ceramic Tip = Easy Clean-Up

You’re not dealing with sticky goop, so cleanup is just a quick wipe. Love that for me.

🔋 Batteries Last Forever (Almost)

I used mine for weeks before changing the batteries. And it lets you know when they’re getting low with a little light. No surprises.

🏥 Backed by Doctors

It’s FDA-cleared in the U.S. and a legit Class II medical device in Europe. Honestly, I didn’t expect something so simple to have actual science behind it.

🛠️ Warranty & Support

You get a solid 2-year warranty, which I appreciate. I had a small issue and their support got back to me in a day. Just FYI — you’ll need to pay to send it back if you ever need a replacement, but that’s not a deal-breaker for me.

🗣 Real Talk: What Are Other People Saying?

Health.com called it the “best heat-based bite relief.” Bloggers, TikTokers, even some skeptical dads on Reddit are into it.

One UK blogger said it stopped the itch and shrunk the swelling. Someone else compared it to the old “hot spoon trick” your grandma told you about — but safer and way more consistent.

Of course, no product is perfect:

Some folks say the heat can feel intense, especially on thin skin.

Others wish it charged via USB instead of using batteries.

And yeah, some bites may need two rounds before you feel full relief.

💸 The Bottom Line: Is It Worth It?

Here’s my quick breakdown:

So… would I buy it again? In a heartbeat. I already told my friends and coworkers about it. If you hike, camp, have kids, or just live somewhere buggy, this thing will change your life — or at least your legs.

🧾 Final Thoughts: My Itch-Free Summer MVP

The Bite Away® isn’t a miracle cure, but man… it’s pretty close. It’s fast, clean, travel-friendly, and actually works. And that warm zap? Honestly kind of satisfying.

Would I recommend it? Totally. Pop it in your bag, and enjoy summer without scratching like a maniac. Trust me, your skin will thank you.

More Info Get The Product Here>>>

[marikos-diary]

I got not one but two ash trays! The exact make and model I had before. I got one black one and one white one. The white obe is the one I really want, but it won’t be here until November. And black one can be here on Monday. So I just have to get through the weekend of smoking either out back or in my car.

I just got back from going out, too! I was very anxious on the walk to my car and the way to the place and I felt like I was going to throw up. But I made it there safely, had a smoke in the parking lot, and then went through the drive through and got two sodas how I like. The ladies at the place I go every day are so nice to me so it wasn’t too bad. I did have a smoke on the way back since I still felt very anxious about driving in general.

There’s many things I would like to do today. I would like to open the windows once it hits 58-60 outside because I enjoy the fresh air. I would like to use my bath wipes and change my underwear. I would like to stay inside except for smoking. I don’t want to go anywhere else today. Further, I would like to vacuum and wipe down my counters and table surfaces. Friday is usually my cleaning day but I was far too upset to take care of anything then. If I can’t get all the surfaces done, then maybe just my end table. It always ends up getting some coffee or soda splatter on it. I wipe it off with a tissue but it would be good to wipe it down. I also want to make my bed, which I was able to do yesterday. It just feels so much cozier to climb into a made bed.

I’d also like to do something fun today. Maybe watch an episode of a show, or read a book. My books are still all packed up, so that second one is kind of tricky. And I reschedule my bookshelf delivery because I didn’t know when I would be waking up today. They were supposed to arrive sometime today but dealing with the buzzer and buzzing someone in and having people in here sounded too stressful so I moved it out another week. Again.

Speaking of buzzers, I think I am going to change my grocery and food delivery instructions to say that I will meet them at the front door. I don’t want to hear that buzzer anymore. It is too stressful for me. I’ve also decided that unless it is an emergency I am no longer calling maintenance. They were in here multiple times a week fixing things the first two months of living here because the complex never did a walkthrough I guess. They were here all the time. I’m not doing that anymore. I don’t want anyone in my apartment. I want it to be my safe space. No one else allowed. That sounds nice to me. My old therapist would have something shitty to say about it about me needing to rejoin society but he didn’t know me or what I’ve been through. I think it is very reasonable to not want people in my apartment. Not even mom for a while. Maybe for the doctor who Christmas special though. I will think about that one. So, to summarize, unless I absolutely need to I will not be calling maintenance. They knock on the doors too loud and they are loud and I don’t want them here. I know at some point there will be a mandatory inspection. I can talk about that in therapy and work on being okay with letting them in. But hopefully that isn’t for many many months. And maybe I’ll get lucky and I will be « invited to leave the community » by then. That is seriously what I am hoping for.

As an update on the door locking saga, I made an honest one star review under my name on Google reviews. It detailed all of the issues I have been having with this building and how management doesn’t care about safety and security and just ignores you when you email them about legitimate concerns. So, I posted that on Tuesday. On Wednesday the company responded and said some bullshit. Later that same day the guy in the office who has bbeen ignoring me called me. I let it go to voicemail and emailed him to let him know that I would need everything in writing. He emailed back that pest control was on site and asked if they could enter my apartment. lol. I said no but I am home. Pest control showed up, sprayed for fruit flies, didn’t even mention the ants I see every week and the roach I saw when I moved on. What a joke. I emailed Tyler and CCed his boss Charlotte to express my disappointment that my pest problems were not resolved. Didn’t get anything in return. Started researching pest companies I could just pay on my own. That was Wednesday.

Thursday afternoon I got an email on their official letterhead from Charlotte stating that pest control had been scheduled to come deal with the infestations on a weekly basis until I choose to cancel it. I do not think this is good enough, because they should have taken care of it before the unit was leased. Charlotte also told me that my neighbors had received a notice not to tamper with the building door or prop it open and that maintenance would check the doors every weekday morning and afternoon. This still did not feel good enough but it was progress in the right direction. It wasn’t good enough to make me feel safe.

So, they did that on Friday. I assume they removed some objects because I saw them laying in the hall as litter right inside the door on my way out around 4pm. Whatever. I have a security system now. It was armed. Anyway, I came home at 8:30pm and found the building lock had once more been tampered with. As if that’s a surprise. The lock had cardboard jammed into it abd taped over with blue painters tape. I sent a pretty angry email to Charlotte and Tyler to inform them that this solution of theirs was not adequate and detailed for them how unsafe I felt as a single disabled woman. I told them in no uncertain terms that stress from this issue is complicating my disabilities and interfering with my ability to function. I asked them what they would do to permanently solve the issue.

I expect that I will hear nothing in return. I truly do not think they care. So, I am resolved to leave the apartment as little as possible until my lease ends. Only to get smokes and sodas, or go to the door to pick up delivery orders. Because if I stay here, then the chain is on the door and it can’t be forced open as easily. They’d have to rip the chain out of the wall. Which is like? Possible, but unlikely. And even if they did, my alarm system would go off and the police would be called. So I feel comfortable enough as long as I am physically home. Therefore, I will not be leaving very much at all. I have to protect the cats, you know?

So that’s the update on that. It’s a whole thing and I am so stressed about it that I am having chest pain and throwing up from anxiety. My mom thinks I am wasting my breath emailing them and that we should have a lawyer draft a letter to them. I’m inclined to agree. That would make me feel better. But that takes time. This last email was probably my last email to the complex about it. I’ll save them and give them to the lawyer when it’s time for that.

In other news, I am cutting down on the notifications I get on my phone. I use a task reminder list but it is very shouty at me and overwhelming so I am trying to find a way to keep using it because it is helpful without it being so loud. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.

Also I have yet to text my mom today. I worry the notification when she texts me back will be upsetting. I’m crying already just thinking about it. So no good morning text for mom.

And I’m not texting Charlie because I am upset at her. I begged and pleaded with her for help and advice and she didn’t respond. I get that she is having troubles because of her mental health and texting is hard, but like really? That’s super not okay to me. I feel abandoned and I don’t think she even cares. I’ve tried to be patient and understanding but I am in crisis and needed her and made that known and she couldn’t respond to even that or react to the message to let me know it had been read and I wasn’t alone. I don’t know. I am very upset about that. I am kind of angry but mostly I feel abandoned which is a massive trigger. I haven’t SHed over it yet but I am holding back tears as I type this.

I feel like I’m going to throw up and I am very tense. Ugh. I probably won’t be able to get any cleaning stuff done today.

And now I am crying a bunch because all I want is to have a friend who responds. But I don’t have any friends that respond. I have no one. And if even Charlie can’t respond, how am I able to trust other people and make friends? I am completely alone and I want to die. I am miserable. All I have are my cats. I am completely alone.

Alone.

[dfroza]

A thought

A prayer

“Pray that God would open doors and windows and minds and eyes and hearts for the word so we can go on telling the mystery of the Anointed”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 4th and closing chapter of the letter of Colossians:

And to you masters: treat your slaves fairly and do what is right, knowing that you, too, have a Master in heaven.

Pray, and keep praying. Be alert and thankful when you pray. And while you are at it, add us to your prayers. Pray that God would open doors and windows and minds and eyes and hearts for the word so we can go on telling the mystery of the Anointed, for this is exactly why I am currently imprisoned. Pray that I will proclaim this message clearly and fearlessly as I should.

Be wise when you engage with those outside the faith community; make the most of every moment and every encounter. When you speak the word, speak it gracefully (as if seasoned with salt), so you will know how to respond to everyone rightly.

I am sending this letter by Tychicus and Onesimus, both dear brothers. Tychicus has been a faithful minister and fellow servant in the Lord. He will update you on me and my situation here, and he will no doubt be an encouragement to you. Onesimus is one of you; and he, too, has been faithful. You will get the whole story from them.

My cellmate Aristarchus sends his love, as does Mark, Barnabas’s cousin. (You’ve been sent instructions about him, so if he comes to you, welcome him.) Jesus, also called Justus, also sends greetings. These are the only workers in God’s kingdom here who are of the circumcision, and they are a great comfort to me.

Epaphras, another one of your hometown fellows and a servant of Jesus the Anointed sends his regards and wants you to know how passionately and sincerely he speaks to the Lord about you. He prays for your spiritual journey, that you will continue to mature and stand tall in the kind of confidence that comes from knowing God’s will. I can testify to his zeal for you and those in Laodicea and Hierapolis.

Luke, the beloved doctor, says hello; and so does Demas. Send my well wishes to the brothers and sisters of Laodicea, especially Nympha and the church that meets in her house. After this letter has been read among you, see that it is also read to the church of Laodicea, and make sure you publicly share the letter I am sending to them. Tell Archippus, “Take care that you complete the service you received in the Lord.”

I, Paul, am signing this letter in my own hand. Remember that I am chained. Grace be with you all.

The Letter of Colossians, Chapter 4 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Family life has changed since Paul’s day. Today, sociologists talk about modern families as “nuclear”: two parents with one or two children. In Colossae, as elsewhere in Paul’s world, families were extended by nature: they consisted of a husband, a wife, lots of children, servants, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and others. So when Paul addresses the family, he does not envision the modern version of it. He addresses the main family members: wives, husbands, children, fathers, and then slaves. The family reflects the order God desires in the church. Each member is to be responsible to the whole, and love and respect are to serve as the guiding principles within family relationships. Paul and Peter both use the term “submission” within family and church relationships as a description of order and support.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 9th chapter of the book of Numbers:

On the first new moon of the second year after the people had left Egypt, there in the Sinai Wilderness, the Eternal One spoke to Moses again.

Eternal One: The Israelites should observe Passover at the time it’s supposed to happen: offering the sacrifice at evening twilight on the 14th day of this month, exactly according to the regulations we’ve already discussed.

So Moses told the Israelites that they should go ahead with the Passover, offering the sacrifice at its designated evening twilight on the 14th day of this month—in the wild desert of Sinai. They did exactly as the Eternal told Moses they should. Complicating things, however, was the fact that some men had needed to handle a dead body and so were impure and couldn’t offer the sacrifice right then. They came to Aaron and Moses right away.

Men: Why should we be disallowed from offering the Eternal’s sacrifice along with the rest of the Israelites at the appropriate time, just because the disposing of a dead body made us ritually impure?

Moses: Just hold on a little while. Let me find out what the Eternal has to say about it.

The Eternal One told Moses,

Eternal One: Tell the Israelites, if any one of you or your descendants becomes ritually impure due to the necessity of handling a dead body, he can nevertheless still celebrate My Passover a month after everyone else does. Likewise, those who are on the road, a long way from My tent, can celebrate Passover to the Eternal then too. It should be observed at evening twilight on the fourteenth day of the second month, eating the lamb they sacrificed with unleavened bread and bitter greens. Make certain that not one of its bones is broken and the entire animal is consumed by morning, in keeping with standard procedure for this Passover festival. Everyone who is present and ritually pure must observe this foundational moment. If a person fails to observe the Passover, it is a serious offense. Such a person will be ostracized from the community, guilty of not offering to the Eternal at the right time. If a visiting foreigner would like to observe the Eternal’s Passover with you, he is welcome. Just make certain that he does so completely, exactly as you Israelites are supposed to do. Everyone must observe it the same way, whether foreigner or native to the land.

When the congregation tent was finally erected and assembled, the cloud of the presence of God covered it and the place where the terms of the covenant were kept. In the dark of night, the presence of God looked like a fire and marked the spot until morning. And so it continued—cloud cover by day, and something like fiery storm clouds at night. Whenever the cloud lifted up, the Israelites would pack up and move, and wherever the cloud stopped, they would settle. This is how the Eternal One indicated when the Israelites should travel and where they should set up camp. As long as the cloud stayed still over the congregation tent, the Israelites also stayed at their tents. When the cloud remained many days over the tent, the Israelites stayed there and served the Eternal. When the cloud remained only a few days, they did the same. They always followed the command of the Eternal, whether staying or leaving. Sometimes it happened that the cloud remained in place only through the night. So, in the morning, they would get going again. Day or night, in this manner they went as God directed. Whether it was a couple of days or just a month or even longer, however long the cloud covered the tent, the Israelites stayed put; but when it lifted, off they went again. So it was that the Israelites obeyed God’s command. When the Eternal One indicated that they stop, they stopped; when He directed them to move, they moved. They served Him exactly as God commanded them through Moses.

The Book of Numbers, Chapter 9 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

The Lord provides a backup plan for those who can’t celebrate Passover properly, but it isn’t to replace normal practices.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Saturday, july 6 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New Covenant) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons:

I have written about the dangers of being "double-minded" or "two-souled" over the years. This is the ambivalent condition of heart wherein the soul desires two (or more) contrary things at once and therefore is in a state of contradiction and fragmentation. "A double-minded person (δίψυχος) is unstable in all his ways" (James 1:8). This is because he is pulled in conflicting directions, unsure of where he wants to go. And since he is unclear and undecided about what he truly desires, he invariably gets lost within a "repetition" of feckless affections, never able to seek for the highest...

If “purity of heart is to will one thing,” then impurity of heart is the result of simultaneously willing two things. It is therefore a state of inner opposition, of having two separate "minds" or "wills" that hold contrary thoughts or desires. Yeshua said that "a divided house cannot stand." A divided heart is at war within itself, "two-souled" and unstable in all its ways...

Paradoxically, there is another danger we may face even if we have inwardly resolved to love the love the LORD our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and that danger is impatience that may be expressed as discontent of heart. We may feel bereft of our heart's deepest longing. We may go through our days, with worldly concerns and the needs of immediacy, lost in holy distraction. We may experience homesickness, ennui, and sorrow as we return to the dust.

Perhaps you can relate to these words of Hadewijch of Antwerp: "I wander alone and must remain far from him to whom I belong above all that I am, and for whom I would so gladly be perfect love. And - God knows - he has fruition of all, and I lack everything through which my soul might repose in him." As the Song of Songs says: "All night long on my bed I look for the one my heart loves." Does not my beloved cry out to my heart: "O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, In the secret places of the cliff, Let me see your face, Let me hear your voice; For your voice is sweet, And your face is lovely."

I stand looking out through my little window, upon the vastness; my eyes fail as I scan the heavenly abyss; inwardly sighing, groaning, crying for his presence...I rehearse my need; I am swallowed up in my emptiness; all I am is hunger, thirst, and longing, hoping for I know not what -- but his touch.

I recall his comforts, like a dream, the smile in his eyes set upon me, my heart aflame. I have felt his touch, in ecstatic moments; I have warmed in his light; I have heard his voice whisper to me in the dancing wind. But then I return - falling back to earth, to the darkness of the shadows; I am caught in the thicket of the fleeting; my heart prisoned by its fears...

It is a painful contradiction between the person I am when I am close to God's heart, leaning upon his breast, and the faint shade of myself wandering the waste places of the desert. Abraham closed his eyes to this world to see the eternal, but when he opened them he saw once again the emptiness of exile that stretched out before him. Everything was changed through his vision, but everything then became strange, and his dream and his love were whisked into the unseen once again.

That is the “aching side” of hope - the waiting - the gap, the delay, the "already-not-yet" expectation, and the separation forged between this lonely world and our eternal home... Ironically enough, hope itself sees the "divided house" that cannot stand, and finds its refuge in the everlasting habitation of God's house. Hope endures in the midst of our dissolution and fading away; even when all we have left is hope to our very last breath.

Alas, our love for God - at least in this life - remains incomplete and unfulfilled. God's love draws our hearts to him in longing, yet we await the realization of salvation, or as Paul puts it. "we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body" (Rom. 8:23). God "wounds us" to seek Him with greater intimacy and fervor. Such a divine disappointment is a hidden blessing, though, since God's love leads to a greater desire to love God, and this desire leads to further desire, and so on. As it says in the Song of Songs: "I opened for my beloved, But my beloved had turned away and was gone. My heart leaped up when he spoke. I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer." Yet the Beloved did not give up...

"In hope we are saved" (τῇ γὰρ ἐλπίδι ἐσώθημεν), but hope that is seen is not hope, for why would someone hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, then we must eagerly wait for it with endurance" (Rom. 8:24-25). As Jeremiah encouraged himself: "The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him. The LORD is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is good that a man should both hope and silently wait for the salvation of the LORD" (Lam. 3:24-26). Or as David said: "I wait for the LORD, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope. My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say, more than they that watch for the morning" (Psalm 130:5-6). Though we must await the fulfillment of our hope, we pray to the LORD: "Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame" (Song 8:6). "Our soul waits for the LORD: he is our help and our shield. For our heart shall rejoice in him, because we have trusted in his holy name" (Psalm 33:20-21).

Therefore do not give up! Never give up! Press on in hope. In our struggle against the darkness, there is an end coming, so don’t let your heart grow numb. Encourage yourself with words of hope. Choose to fight (ἀγωνίζομαι - "agonize," "struggle") another day. Do not yield to despair or give place to anxiety. Press on and keep fighting the "good fight" of faith (1 Tim. 6:12). Trust that the deepest longing of your heart will one day be manifest; there is a "future and a hope" reserved for you (Jer. 29:11). In the end you shall see. “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.” Amen.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 39:7 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm39-7-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm39-7-lesson.pdf

7.4.24 • Facebook

from Today’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

[gibbearish]

@excessive-vampires hey of course<3 i know it fuckin sucks to deal with so anything i can do to help others with it ill do my best

with that i saw your reblog earlier and was working through forming a response so i just wanted to say firstly im really sorry youre stuck in that situation and that your doctors treated you like that, secondly im not sure if you wanted advice on working around that so if not feel free to disregard all of this but if yes:

firstly dilators - if the issue is:

> not knowing what to get - i got the intimate rose dilator set off amazon and my physical therapist made happy noises when i showed her so they get two thumbs up, id estimate the smallest one is abt the size of a pencil

> they would open your mail and get angry - see if you have any friends nearby who would be willing to let you ship it to their house and then pick it up in person

> if they found it in your room they would get angry - try to think as far outside the box as you can on hiding spots. like say an old pair of boots buried in your closet or something, what are the chances of them checking somewhere like that yknow?

> worried theyll catch you doing it / no lock on door - i usually wait until my housemates are entirely gone or 100% certainly asleep before dilating, its not a noisy activity on its own you go really slow. and even if that means you can only do it once a month, thats ok, like i said any progress is good progress. when i first started out working on it p young i literally couldnt fit much of anything at all and would just occasionally toe the line like every few months, and even that slowly got me to the point where i think shortly after graduating highschool when i ordered the dilators i was able to do the first size after like a week

if none of those solve it and dilatings not a possibility thats def unfortunate but not the end of the road. as for the rest of the exercises none of them involve material stuff so they should be pretty easy to do discreetly if you want (except the massage thing but theyd have no reason to suspect its pelvis involved as the tools used are used for regular massages too lol, and failing that you can still do it with your hands its just not as ideal). so with that here's a rough breakdown of the exercises im supposed to do, and again this is just the general stuff so i cant tell you how many days a week you would do these. and also disclaimer that i very much am not a medical professional, just regurgitating what i remember of the instructions from my doctor. anyways!

kegels:

breathe in through nose 2 seconds, out through pursed lips 2 seconds while squeezing, release and repeat 5 times

then

take slow steady breaths drawing them down into your stomach rather than your chest, do these continuously independent of kegels. pattern is squeeze for 5 seconds, release 10 seconds, and repeat that 5 times

do one set of each of these standing, sitting, and laying down flat on your back with pillows under your knees to elevate your pelvis. originally i was supposed to do all of that eight to ten times a day but that rapidly evolved to "whenever i can remember to in whatever position i happen to be in right now" lol

the abdominal/inner thigh massages are primarily intended as a cupping exercise but you can also use a Gua Sha tool if the cups hurt (like me, they pull my stomach hair so i got one also off amazon, its the shiny metal rock shaped like a paint pallette. for the cups this one looks closest to what she had and you just squeeze it then place on your skin so it creates a seal, release the bulb to create suction, and then slide it around as described below), or she told me the thigh part can also be done with a massage gun. but essentially you just make sweeping motions around your abdominal region, if you start at the bottom on one side you sweep up around your bellybutton on that side to the top and vice versa, if you imagine your stomach in quadrants you wanna spend abt 3 mins going over each corner. then you also wanna do the cardinal directions and just sweep from the outside towards your bellybutton, also 3 mins each (i do not do these in any particular order truth be told im truly just rubbing a slimy rock around on my stomach lol). inner thighs are similar, you just sweep up towards your pelvis. and use massage oil/lotion/something otherwise itll get uncomfortable and chafey, ESPECIALLY the silicon cups my skin hurts just thinking abt that lol

for stretches she told me -

1 minute daily: priformis figure 4 stretch, deep squat stretch, half kneeling hip flexor side bending stretch, supine hamstring stretch with strap, happy baby pose, and adductor butterfly stretch

10x pushup-y things daily: prone on elbows stretch

i googled all of those real quick to make sure those keywords lead to diagrams or guides that looked mostly right so those should be a p good rough guide

the breathing exercises are just more of the stomach breathing thing, you lay down with one hand on your stomach and one on your chest and just concentrate on taking deep breaths without the chest hand moving for a couple minutes

if you had to pick just one of these though i would primarily go for the kegels, for the first month that was the only thing i remembered to do every now and then and id still made a fuckload of progress by the second appointment, theyre entirely undetectable by anyone around you so you can do them whenever and wherever you want, and as far as i know theres not really any way to do them wrong or like. overdo them? worst thatll happen is youll get too tired to keep doing them and the result will be ... you relaxing, so thats also a win lol

another tip is if you cant get dilators but still want to go that route and can fit your pinky: put it in until it starts to hurt and no further, even if thats only a single centimeter and just chill there until it relaxes, focusing on deep breaths and releasing tension in the area (also make sure youve gone to the bathroom prior so you wont get scared of relaxing too much and tense up bc that can hurt a lot w something in you if youre not prepared). itll feel like it never will but i promise eventually it will chill, even if that time is another day youll still have made progress. if you do get it relaxed though then you can try for a little deeper, again stopping as soon as it hurts and waiting for it to adjust. one thing that can help is directing sustained pressure down towards the bottom of your pelvic floor, it will hurt some but in a different way like a really intense backbreaking massage does, and as such will also steadily drive the tension out. vaginismus is lowkey your pelvic floor being one big muscle knot anyways so yknow lol. also if its not going well dont force yourself to continue forever, like give yourself a 15 minute timer as a goal but allow yourself to tap out whenever you need. and conversely if you make it to 15 mins and find youre still feeling fine you can choose to bump that up, the world is your oyster

for bowel health she recommended i get a magnesium supplement, the brand she recc'd is CALM specifically the raspberry lemon flavor, you just mix i think a teaspoon of it with however much warm water you want so if you dont like the taste you can just take it as a shot like i do, or she said adding it to tea and stuff is fine too, and you just drink that before bed every night. its not prescription or anything you can get it at costco or again amazon (all of these companies certainly have their own websites you can order direct from but i am broke as fuck so we do what we can lol)

that's all i can think of right now, make sure to use way more lube than you think you should, and i hope this helps and that your situation looks up soon💜

got a good grade in physical therapy because i ordered a sex toy life is fun

[wiccxn-child]

Divine Intervention

Hi all, I usually wouldn't post here as I'm not as involved in paganism as I used to be (I would say I still am pagan, however), much less online. I've always been a little more agnostic than actually believing the deities I work with are tangible beings, as I have a lot of trauma with fundamentalist Christianity and have a little distaste for literal faith, personally. Obviously, if you feel differently, that's perfectly valid. It's just how my spiritual journey has progressed over the years.

However, I just went through an experience that I genuinely feel was some sort of divine intervention.

I run a game development organization at my university, and over the last semester or so, a freshman I met became one of my best friends through this group (this will be important later). We'll call them Merry. Every Friday, after out meetings, a majority of the group goes out to dinner at a restaurant here in town. Because of Easter, we weren't going to have a meeting or our dinner this week. However, I truly think something intervened in my fate and put me exactly where I needed to be.

On Thursday, I was at my department's building, waiting to briefly meet with my advisor after he finished teaching a class. I almost didn't stay, because I had work soon after, but something just made me decide to stay anyway to meet with him. While I was waiting, Merry passed by me, and mentioned they had forgotten to take their medication and was heading back to their dorm to do so. Understandably, I was like "aw, that sucks" and then said "it's for epilepsy!" and I was obviously like "oh yes, go get that!"

I was supposed to go home for Easter weekend this Friday, to spend some time with my family. Since my university is 4 - 5 hours away from my hometown, I haven't been able to visit very often due to work and being extremely busy with my masters program. However, Thursday night, my parents called me to inform me that they had contracted COVID, and didn't think it was a good idea for me to come the next day. I was disappointed, but understood.

Because I was in town, although we couldn't have our weekly meeting, I decided to have dinner with the organization members who were still in town for the break. The other members (including Merry) decided to hang out later that night, and although they invited me, I wasn't sure I would go as well since I had a exam to take and was worried about being exhausted. However, I eventually decided to go last minute after I had completed the exam when my friend asked me I was going.

I showed up at 10:15p, and we hung out a little bit and eventually started watching a movie around 10:30p. Merry and my other friend were smoking, but I was sober since I have a drug screening for my medication coming up. I considered drinking that night, but once again, I decided last minute that I didn't really feel like it.

Merry had a seizure at exactly 11:00p. They stood up, collapsed, and started seizing. I was the only one who even knew they took seizure medication, and as my other friend panicked, I realized what was happening. Thankfully, I called 911 and I instructed my other friend to put Merry on their side. EMS came and we got them to a hospital and nothing severe happened other than a massive headache and some carpet burn from their fall, and obviously the hospital bills, but no money is worth someone's life.

I found out later from Merry's mom that they had only had one other seizure before - their doctor wasn't even sure if they had a seizure disorder or if it was a one-time occurrence, since they hadn't had any since. It wasn't something anyone was expecting, not even a little bit.

I realized today, that if all these things hadn't aligned weeks in advance, things may have gone terribly different. Not only could my other friend had been dealing with this situation on their own without any idea what was happening, but we probably would've never met for dinner if I hadn't been in town and thus my friends wouldn't be hanging out last night in the first place. Merry could've been in their dorm, where they no longer have a roommate. They could've had a seizure alone, and no one would've known. There's a very real possibility that they could've have died last night.

I am so grateful that things happened the way they did. And so many little situations occurred at just the right spots to ensure I never went home and was there in that moment.

I really feel like something knew I needed to be there for my friend. I'm really thankful, whoever you are.

[exploring8709]

Two bad beats?

Ok, I guess it was all bravado.

Went with Sadie to the charity card tournament on Thursday. Was doing fine until I was all in with three others pre-flop. I had AA, a private equity analyst with distracting hoop earrings had 5d7d, and some wealth management witch, who had been chipping away at me all night, never showed. Hoop earnings rivers a straight. FML.

Sadie and I left early so I couldn't lunge across the table in a tornado of chips.

The night only got worse as we run into Camera Boy again, in town visiting a friend before the start of NY Fashion Week. I was trying to be my regular hilarious self and, aided with a couple vodka martinis, I make a comment about him stalking me. I catch him adoringly off-guard. Feeling, for the slightest of seconds, like the coolest girl in the room, it all comes crashing down as Sadie invites him to join us. I think this is when the doctors in the botched surgery that is my life, would have marked the time of death. I've already said all the cool things that I know to say, so his impression of me will only get worse.

Anyways, we get to talking about beauty, and I hang on every word. No matter how I awkward I feel, I want all the tea. Skinny models. High fashion. Diva Designers. This man has seen it all. And it's my catnip. He goes on about confidence, and how it's his job to help his subject find their truth, help them find themselves, so he can get the most out of them. And then they're talking about me, Sadie, that bitch, and Camera Boy, evaluating my life and what I need. Sadie maintains that I just need to get fucked. And his conclusion is that I should do a shoot with him.

Then basically, Sadie roars with laughter, labeling me a prude, and a stick in the mud, and that there is no way I'd so something like that.

And of course, buried in an amazing amount of drunken delusion, I ignore any good sense that I think I have (and still stinging from that earlier bad beat and not wanting to be beat again) I accept.

And then he's gone in a flash leaving me with his card and instructions to arrange with his assistant a time for the shoot.

Of course, Sadie played me like a violin. She's a virtuoso. Of course she knew I'd take the bait, as long as she challenged me openly.

I mean, I honestly don't feel like he's trying to get into my pants. So does that mean that I believe he's being sincere? That he just wants to help me find my truth? And then I start to spiral.

My mind is now churning, cycling between shame, embarrassment, guilt . . . where is the girl from four days ago that was shouting to the world that she was all free and liberated from paralyzing self doubt and self-esteem issues? Where is the girl that wrote off a drunken mistake as a "new me". Ugh. Why do I do this to myself?

In between trying to stop myself from calling Jac on her honeymoon for Irish Lad's number to unload what is sure to be a monumental amount of self-loathing on a boy who just needed a moment's respite from his own heartache, I've been practically burning with cringe for the last few days . . . I can't even control it.

God, can't I even enjoy one night without self-flagellating myself? Was this supposed to be a moment? A turning point? I'm beginning to feel less so, but does it have to be a low? It was fun, right? I discovered something, right? I came, right?

And what am I going to do about this Camera Boy mess? Calling him Camera Boy is just my way of trying to get some footing back. He's no boy and he's going to see right through me. He's going to take his fancy shots with is fancy camera and the only thing that's going to show up on film is a dumpster fire.

[billconrad]

Self-Plugging

    My parents are getting older, so I downloaded a self-help book so I can help them and know what to expect. Unfortunately, the book was a dud. Instead of focusing on practical advice like low-impact exercise, a good diet, and working with doctors, the author presented a holistic approach. Before you get upset, this would have been fine if the book description or title had prepared the reader. “A holistic approach to old age.” However, neither was present, and the light content provided little helpful information.

    Forgiving an author for lackluster content is possible, but there was a more significant problem. The author spent two (out of eight) entire chapters on a book that was far too short, instructing (not asking) the reader to write a positive review. The first chapter described how vital reviews were to the author, gave tips on the review content, and discussed how to post the review. The second chapter repeated how critical reviews were to the authors’ success. I have never encountered such an arrogant request and found it to be outrageous and unprofessional. I hope this new form of promotion is not a new trend.

    I am a humble author who appreciates when a reader views my words; this is my positive review. You read my work? Thank you! The icing on the cake occurs when somebody takes the time to thank me. Wow, it feels great to be appreciated.

    Now, hold on. I self-plug my published books in my articles and use my plots as examples. Why? I want to be successful, and advertising is a significant part of sales. Yet, I would never demand something from my readers and do not have gushing self-plugs. I would rather be a failure than stoop to that level.

    Yet, my self-plugging seems hypocritical. I can complain about an author who went too far, but not myself. I suppose I must fall back on the title of a Cranberries song, “Everybody else is doing it, so why can’t we?” The difference is that I go far to ensure my humble plugs are tasteful and not in your face.

    There was something else amusing about this book. None of the reviews mentioned the review demand. I would have expected at least some anger; after all, it upset me. This lack of reaction made me wonder why I get so upset.

    Every day, commercials bombard us. Billboards, magazines, bumper stickers, radio commercials, banners, pop-ups, subliminal messages, and hidden text. Nearly every online video ends with “If you liked this content, please like and subscribe.” Likes have become the content currency.

    Readers and viewers have become accustomed to in-your-face advertisements and demands for many things. It is so much noise and wasted effort. We live in a modern world, and advertising will only get worse. I predict that artificial intelligence will soon bombard us with hyper-specific advertisements.

    Yet, a book is a flat, dull thing. They do not have exciting YouTube personalities with excellent graphics or pop-up windows with a great deal on socks. And that is the big reason we read them. “Today, I got under a warm blanket and read a lovely book.” What did it do? The book entertained and informed me. Great job, you wonderful author. But two self-plugging chapters? They crossed a thick line.

    You’re the best -Bill

    January 10, 2024

    Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[jdgo51]

You Need the Voice of God in Your Everyday Life

Today's inspiration comes from:

Created to Hear God

by Havilah Cunnington

"Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it."— Proverbs 4:23

"'God uniquely created you to listen to Him in a particular way, but He created all of us to communicate with Him. When you listen to God and encounter His truth, you find freedom. Jesus said to His disciples,

Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. — John 8:32

And when you know truth and freedom, little can stop you from accomplishing what He has given you to do.

As you mature, you gain confidence that comes from encountering truth firsthand. The truth grounds you at your core. You are sure of what God said. You got it! Once you know what the biblical truth is, you’re all in. You’re a force to be reckoned with. You’ve located the truth, and as a result, you have extraordinary courage and resolve.

Also, your confidence in God’s truth will enable you to challenge others or even to be challenged yourself. You’re not afraid to do what’s right because you know it’s right. Popular opinion doesn’t influence you. Even doubters and judges will not distract you from your hard-and-fast, rock-solid conviction. You know God is with you! He has spoken clearly.

You might feel fear, but you are not confused. No matter what your Prophetic Personality is, all of us have common ground in the following truths. Remembering them keeps us anchored to God.

As you spend time with God in His Word, reading and listening in the unique way He made you, you’ll discover more and more about who He is.

We All Need Relationship with God

When I was learning how to use my knowing, it wasn’t all kicks and giggles. In fact, in the beginning I noticed something that really bothered me. I heard God’s voice regularly, but I wasn’t growing closer to Him. I sensed I was further from Him than ever. I couldn’t understand why this was happening. Wasn’t I supposed to get closer to God the more I interacted with Him? I really wanted that.

One night while flying home from a speaking event, I sat in the darkness of the cabin with the sound of the humming engine filling the air. In the quiet I asked God, “Why do I feel so distant from You even though we’re talking every day? It doesn’t make sense. What am I missing?”

He replied, Havilah, it’s because you’re having only a transactional relationship with Me, not an intimate relationship. The truth of His words painfully hit my heart. He was right. I had never thought about it that way before.

A transactional relationship is one we invest in for the sake of getting something in return. We keep things good with our work bosses because they keep us employed and paid. We consult teachers because they give us instruction and doctors because they can point us toward health. We take care of pets because they give us a sense of well-being and maybe even purpose. When we interact with God to get special blessings or to get our way, we miss the point: we are relational beings.

God gives us our Prophetic Personality for the sake of an intimate relationship with Him. The primary purpose of an intimate relationship is to know and be known, to love and be loved. Does this mean you never get anything out of an intimate relationship? Of course not. Spouses support each other in practical ways; parents instruct children; friends give each other a hand. But intimate relationships aren’t only transactional.

Imagine what you’d be missing if you never learned how to communicate with your Creator. What if you could never talk to your architect, the One who knows everything about you? What if you couldn’t ask the questions He alone can answer? Everything you need to know, God knows. You were never created to do life alone.

You need the voice of God in your everyday life. But again, this communication isn’t a one-way street. Whether through hearing, seeing, feeling, or knowing, God uses your Prophetic Personality to reveal Himself to you. For starters, because He designed them, they reveal important elements of His character:

God hears (John 9:31; 1 John 5:14). God sees (Genesis 16:13; Proverbs 15:3). God feels (Jeremiah 31:3; Psalm 103:13). God knows (Psalm 147:5; 1 John 3:20). As you spend time with God in His Word, reading and listening in the unique way He made you, you’ll discover more and more about who He is.

I’ll say it one more time: one of the most important things I want you to know is that the strengths of your Prophetic Personality are the outcome of an intimate relationship with God. You can’t nurture those strengths or mature in your listening skills apart from Him. So gently turn your heart away from the idea that God gave you a Prophetic Personality as a spiritual perk and see it for what it really is: a path to experiencing the fullness of God in a deeper way.

We all benefit from being careful not to seek our gifts more than we seek Him. When we leave this earth, we will take our relationship with the Lord with us, but we won’t take our special method of listening with us. We won’t need that in Heaven, where the barriers of this physical world no longer exist, and we can experience God face-to-face (1 Corinthians 13:12)."'

Excerpted with permission from Created to Hear God by Havilah Cunnington, copyright Havilah Cunnington.