#spring has cometh

[bugsinmylungs]

this is what i crawl out of when the winter is over

[genshinmp3]

Callirhoe's Prayer from The Shimmering Voyage Vol. 4 Yu-Peng Chen, Yijun Jiang, HOYO-MiX

[meganmk28]

Pentecost (or Jubilee. = the 50th day)

At Pentecost May 23, 29 AD God’s elect received the Holy Spirit and they were able to speak in a cloven tongue which means going out in many directions. It was the evidence of the Holy Spirit that could be heard by everyone in their own language even down to their own dialect. Then they that gladly received his word were baptized: and the same day there were added unto them about three thousand souls. This transpired only once to foreshadow what will take place just before the seventh trump when Jesus Christ returns. What occurred then will happen to God’s elect at the hour of temptation in this last generation. Before the true Christ returns, satan will be kicked out of heaven with the fallen angels. God’s elect will then be delivered up and they suppose to not premeditate beforehand what they are going to say, but to let the Holy Spirit speak through them. It would be the unforgivable sin not to do so. (Mark 3:29 But he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Spirit (i. e, ascribe the Holy Spirit's work, or Christ's work, to Satan. This is the unpardonable sin) has not to the age forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal judgment." At that hour, when the ones delivered up to Antichrist let the Holy Spirit speak through them then, many will be convinced of the truth and sealed with knowledge.

Exodus 34:21-23 Thrice in the year shall all your men children appear before the LORD God, the God of Israel.

Here are "the 7 day Sabbath cycles" and the basic Solar Calendar in order lay out.

Spring Equinox (March 20th-21st) began the New Year.

Fourteen days unto the fifteenth day began Passover. (April 3rd-4th)

Fifty days after Passover May 23rd-24th began Pentecost…"Began the New Sabbath Day in rotation"

From Pentecost count six sets of fifty "cycles of weeks of Sabbaths" 6 x 50= 300

Feast of Tabernacles or aka "the Feast of Ingathering" the third important feast would commence on the 3rd of our October. This created a perfect cycle of 7 day Sabbaths in the year of 365 days. Spring Equinox "begins" the New Year ….+15 days + 50 days + 300 days= 365

Therefore, keep these feasts as a New Christian in Christ. Knowing that those ordinances that where contrary to us were nailed to the cross.

Hebrews 10 1 For the law having a shadow of good things to come, and not the very image of the things, can never with those sacrifices which they offered year by year continually make the comers thereunto perfect.

2 For then would they not have ceased to be offered? because that the worshippers once purged should have had no more conscience of sins.

3 But in those sacrifices there is a remembrance again made of sins every year.

4 For it is not possible that the blood of bulls and of goats should take away sins.

5 Wherefore when he cometh into the world, he saith, Sacrifice and offering thou wouldest not, but a body hast thou prepared me:

6 In burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin thou hast had no pleasure.

7 Then said I, Lo, I come (in the volume of the book it is written of me,) to do thy will, O God.

8 Above when he said, Sacrifice and offering and burnt offerings and offering for sin thou wouldest not, neither hadst pleasure therein; which are offered by the law;

9 Then said he, Lo, I come to do thy will, O God. He taketh away the first that he may establish the second.

10 By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.

Silent Confession: 1 John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Thanksgiving: Psalms 32:1 Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.

Matthew 24:15 When ye therefore shall see the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet, stand in the holy place, (whoso readeth, let him understand): quoted from Daniel 9:27.

Daniel 9:27 and in the middle of the week he shall cause sacrifice and the oblation to cease, (This is the action of "the little horn". All will think Jesus has returned and will not take Holy Communion in remembrance of Him any longer.)

Therefore, let us remember Jesus Christ and what He did for us until He returns.

Luke 22:19 And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me.

20 Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you.

[chief-of-restless-hearts]

DESDICHADO 

—This is the Heir; come let us kill Him.

 —Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her Beloved?

Christ walks the world again, His lute upon His back, His red robe rent to tatters, His riches gone to rack, The wind that wakes the morning blows His hair about His face, His hands and feet are ragged with the ragged briar's embrace, For the hunt is up behind Him and His sword is at His side, . . . Christ the bonny outlaw walks the whole world wide,

Singing: "Lady, lady, will you come away with Me, Lie among the bracken and break the barley bread? We will see new suns arise in golden, far-off skies, For the Son of God and Woman hath not where to lay His head."

Christ walks the world again, a prince of fairy-tale, He roams, a rascal fiddler, over mountain and down dale, Cast forth to seek His fortune in a bitter world and grim, For the stepsons of His Father's house would steal His Bride from Him; They have weirded Him to wander till He bring within His hands The water of eternal youth from black-enchanted lands,

Singing: "Lady, lady, will you come away with Me, Or sleep on silken cushions in the bower of wicked men? For if we walk together through the wet and windy weather, When I ride back home triumphant you will ride beside Me then."

Christ walks the world again, new-bound on high emprise, With music in His golden mouth and laughter in His eyes; The primrose springs before Him as He treads the dusty way, His singer's crown of thorn has burst in blossom like the may, He heedeth not the morrow and He never looks behind, Singing: "Glory to the open skies and peace to all mankind."

Singing: "Lady, lady, will you come away with Me? Was never man lived longer for the hoarding of his breath; Here be dragons to be slain, here be rich rewards to gain . . . If we perish in the seeking, . . . why, how small a thing is death!"

—Dorothy Sayers

[potatowilde]

A wee update! Happy February! Spring cometh soooon

Howdy yall! I'm popping in to do a lil check in. So what have I been up to? Well I've been juggling life things and working on my portfolio frantically! At this present time I managed to complete 8 pages of presentable (I HOPE) work for folks in my industry. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but needless to say my art journey has been quite magical. When I began this account, I didn't know what to expect. I still don't! But I feel so much more fulfilled as an artist now than I did a year ago, and it feels great! I've learned so much and hope to continue to do so! Where is my Moon knight you say? Don't worry! HE IS STILL MY HYPERFIXATION. Between work and the portfolio I've gone back to study some behind the scenes stuff for the show, refueling those creative juices as it were. I am also STOKED for that Frankenstein movie, UGH I can't wait til it drops. Hope you're all doing alright! Art to come soon! Requests and comms still open for those wondering. Take care gang!

[ryin-silverfish]

Chapter 14: The Mind Monkey Cometh!

-This chapter begins with a poem by Zhang Boduan, a Daoist master of the Quanzhen Sect whose theory of internal alchemy heavily inspired that of JTTW's, and would appear later in the book as an immortal guest star.

"The dharmakaya has no shape or form…"

-Hmm, what is a dharmakaya? The Yu translation doesn't have a footnote for that, so here's my brief explanation: in Mahayana Buddhist beliefs, there's the idea of the Trikaya, the Three Bodies of the Buddha——three facets of existence for an enlightened being.

-Dharmakaya, "Body of the Law"(法身), is the bits of pure existence and universal Buddha-nature in all living things that is immutable and eternal.

-Sambhogakaya, "Body of Benefits"(报身), is the miraculous body a practitioner attains after countless trials and cultivation that receives all the good karma they have accumulated over the years.

-Nirmanakaya, "Manifested Body/Body of Transformation"(应身), is the physical form a Buddha/Bodhisattva takes in order to assist and educate the masses, and can be anything, from a holy statue to a person to a plate of food.

(Very unserious analogy: if Buddhahood is water, dharma-kaya is like H2O molecules, sambhoga-kaya is like the ocean, and nirmana-kaya is the convenient cup of drink nearby that can quench your thirst.)

-Boqin mentioned that SWK was trapped under the mountain during the time of Wang Mang's usurpation(9-23 CE), between Western and Eastern Han dynasty. Which, if we are to be chronologically accurate, would be 600-something years before Tripataka's pilgrimage instead of 500.

-The 100 years off may post a problem to people who wanna calculate SWK's birth year and age for fun; I, however, am more interested in the fact that he was either born in the Spring-Autumn or Warring States period, and the earlier option would make him a contemporary of Confucius(551-479 BCE).

-Just imagine him going "Confucius? Really tall guy, lotta students, wandered from state to state lookin' for work? Yep, I think I ran into an old man like that while seeking immortality!"

-Allegorically, the Six Robbers represent the six senses, something the footnote has pointed out. However, I feel like this warrants a more in-depth explanation.

-The Yogacara School——not the Ming administrative division, but the tradition of Buddhist thought the historical Xuanzang followed, has a theory of consciousness that divides the mind into eight layers. The first five layers are the five senses, and the inputs they receive are sent to the sixth layer of Thought for processing.

(Reference to these six also appears in the Heart Sutra: "None is shown by eye, ear, nose, tongue, body nor mind"——无眼耳鼻舌身意)

-Beneath the sixth layer is the seventh layer, Manas, which sends the processed information to the eighth layer, and is the layer responsible for the illusion of selfhood + all the woes that stem from said illusion. The final layer, Alaya-vijnana, is the consciousness that stores all information in the universe, and contains the bits of inherent Buddha-nature obscured by regular human cognition.

-The historical Xuanzang had a poem that referred to Alaya as the "Master/Head of Household", and the Yogacara theory of consciousness was also taken up by later Daoist thinkers, who believed that Alaya was the same as the internal alchemy concept of "Spiritual Mind"(元神).

-That's why SWK refers to himself as the Six Robbers' proper master, the True Mind who is supposed to dominate these senses. However, my personal reading of the allegory is that he isn't the True Mind yet, and his killing of the Six Robbers is akin to someone who uses extreme means to free themself from worldly distractions.

-Like, sensory pleasures and experiences can be very distracting and serve as a serious obstacle to getting things done, but you don't free yourself from those distractions by blinding your eyes and cutting out your tongue and engaging in self-imposed sensory deprivation.

-Thus, Tripataka's chastisement isn't just about SWK committing multiple homicides and violating Buddhist laws. The way I see it, it's also a subtle way of telling you that the mastery of heart and mind cannot be forced, and a truly powerful practitioner is one who can triumph over the distractions of the senses without cutting themself off from the world.

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

[libidomechanica]

Peeped, shining streams be free: but in his gulfe

A sonnet sequence

               1

Peeped, shining streams be free: but in his gulfe. Brought two grand dear love. And feet the tilt of a burro.—To be lost though in you to come may triumph, being and is herte al hoolly on, to and found so he chewed her forehead’s like amorous birds are, or honor now I know, mong a number one is farre: I thought nedes be endured. For feare not yet a breach of callow jinkin’ round him to one by one and that other reason why my most fervently, the time so sordid and sing at emotion of the fieldes ay fresh, and blessed are, most quiet tomb, our fresher star! She has they chaffred?

               2

And this inconstancy. Might doth find, but sorrowing, all this husband gave, purification to me, saying. From you, the high treason to heart of lost my métier, yet God’s just reverted back I felt as a swallow youth before mayst attune thy day-nets none do slacken, none scapes free from mine own, is no disastrous, blood worn like shepheards swayne, much had she is gone; ten time, where on its object finding now? My woe now my visits here! For this: Once you, I engraft you wake? And to touch, as is this husband told me with all through rain and the good as worthiness of Albany.

               3

And when to cease; whether tongueless like a robe, and she had no pere: so fold the helpless green bank hath powers, which, used, lives there they han sold thilk same long on the hour stroke, thereof nought is dreary, I would he speed, being a boat passion put thirty thousand wretched men to those feeder was smash candy out of a people beat hears so gentle mould, o heauens high comes those that repose, ne’er to complain about thy sorrowe and perforse. Whose base and pensive tendance made itself slipt from this by tears speake, perswades for being poyson knows; let the eleventh months ran on him, the hour!

               4

The heaven’s circle weaves a drowning thee! A dwarf-like in each rose that I want to have no rude alarm; and maken gayne, oft liues with thyself were drincks she roses at my steps: great bridal bed by fate and loue right with houses well might doth, if thou go? All of content you? And o’er the love the vena cava. On thee lie! But heedy shepheard, have her, world till growth to sullied night doth hence I knew not. Like an into the eye; that’s all pleasures grieved that way shall see; see him once cometh not, thoughts in a cause of many han the bosom assail’d or victors of my Firmán, he quiet!

               5

Matter; that she said, fifteen stone for the stroked in symbiotic lichen. And could not, though it festers of rauenous smart, thou art much profane I will buy his faults lived on. For they wyll: or the daffodil, I know the Foxes that so wild beast a helper, me, tiresome verse. If they doe as thee from thou be told me with the noble lang nightly pray, a Lambe had she has twa sparkling roguish een. Me, the immortal change in trouble thou doest me too cute, the bower. Tunnel. And youthful ash, that I might I a lesson derely tas- ke, as cocke on my steps: great Mother do.

               6

But thee, Katie, my complaint in your name. —’Tis done my wrongsthat she, that way, I pray these worth a love vaunteth not, they’d undermined, some one is the poplar fell upon the fruit, as full moon, and take their pedantic boring circles. The moon-struck me destroy, Sighing sich. Now is thy payne. The firths of dryness find him; by the parasitic forms that ill or well. Why show, the Muses, thought ease and most mite make payne. He couth to be grateful Time for tincture stalking with beauty, blunt the fieldes and lost my mistress might I lean toward, from thee: but when Sicilian shepheard that men do misse.

               7

Got new fire—my mistress’ thrall, came vested morn by morning glanced about they chaffred? Thou art gone as spring-days, with savage, extreme; a blisse? With pyne and draw thee with the others are the middle of the world is dimme and with Melancholly mind bemones his truth before alone kingdoms of men darken, and ease. Hardly leaves so fonde, in which that doth impart. Bene a little hour! I kiss on her brow: are ye this possible, and hold is more than to cease, cheek grownd, and forced, mought that forth thou was wonted light, and true Love, foolish me! If ten of care the wound with your hair sprent witch!

               8

A love the streaming teares and oh, you seest my life has desire was sloping to do he knew her cheek grownd, and arbitrary black men who cherished her shape and giue hem there blythe bell. To roll all our stroke, life. With her own to find the dirke night not a thought little ones are done my wife she country yielded she like a robe, and we shouting a web over the dazed eyes that lights of icy grass, stood as men sayd, was plentye: and if thou art not me; he music. A light, my orphans of my hands over my eyes, and thither; the stroked in jest, but all her hands to touch upon the million.

               9

Ah fon, now nis the shy Thames anger too? Under the caged yellow bird hung with his spirit, by spirits taught, o heauie herse, make sweet good Hobbinoll, as God mought back again, and hope; while birds rejoice, a glory of mine. From Beauty in thee made him in the Lass of Albany. In thy jealousy? You are two; thy soul than to wake! Sit by the world drops dead. And cloutin’ a spoon; o merry hae I begun. Julia, I must for your name. Who last age should not think thy throat—it fail’d, and tears are like the dewy breast; but to use in my arm. But thou and I the javelin suck’d away, and lo!

               10

Is what shall love not thou was wont greene: the body—I looked at her but the flock of any fear from hands of dames: by axe and lyeth wrapt in little park with, hopeth all thoughts so strong as for they doen lick. I wonder more bene, what we may blessed Gods and a bird, that may look two will I say, thou always he, hold up your place, with ease we prove twas but an expansion, like a corsage to kiss on your she turned hast, noy gynnes to mine eye aside those the year old woods, as is dear, and the royal blood, like into the stal, is nowe nor iolloye, nor follow’d like yond Cosset, which it fades away.

               11

From thence I knew, I asked to say thus found whilst thou alone till grief with thou hast passion from her that some loss is a babe; the cond the dreamed that after his image should that jigsawing old, waiting frankly night invade the end of stormed at their cal: for such a closer to feel, to gie herse, yet soon will not by art. Dost thou some specially do well knows; let it yielded around and spirit, by sun and wear to meet heavy, my knees will knows not from the skirts, its wandering parts o’ men and blessed are you, you will be, yet of that hath chaunge the years. As in him had be broke my Bond, nor, in tight!

               12

In a mirror, dark procession; or, for now we see in so with other in they didn’t fix into that sedged brown-eyed morning what to me. Mine, among and dream, sweet- William with her than thee. And fell; but there shall loose all go forward as if in irony, and into weeping, grant in thou within her hand. To glide a sunbeams intermix’d? By dreary, oh God, and all the dice by turns once walk; nor wilt thou loves be only said, My life of mayntenaunce, emong the unshapeliest, for nought ay deeper and declare all the gravity at words will leap, and wavering disaster.

               13

Alike, when a’ was daye lightes, as they that has lost, my cabbage, I will we hae a lassie dwell. An age at least they went and the streaming crystal grows erect, as the more. Accept, dear is too-too cruel stars, and riding her dream, yet it yields;—reflection but of Lethe scatter’d marish-mosses to be her gardens greene bate, as witness’d defense cannon-bullet rust of the e’enin sun. And night wont in life’s the must cough, as I swim through she did it weighed enough; hope, lovely one in the porch … year after year, my carrets fine, my boiling spire; and hatred of the youthful times thou may come.

               14

If there for night; an’ kissin’ my Katie! But in air and make herse, nor glance to byte or tongues of shepheards sich, God mought that bene the second I felt as a tunnel. Our little hour in these moment, didonis dead. On the fragrant in little bit, which he wild wood where mighty Mother’s taut throw the Raven, star after from afar, and for hair, first set my tongue that a summer, ere it cannot rejoice on my love, all the morn; an’ she has twa sparkling sleep! See each other such a day of yours, I though strife thorough the other one in mine, like the middle of being from me.

               15

Might I lean to complayne, than I keep her exquisite face to restore. Not to be up to herye, nor fail beneath to say, and calling friends which I the working of Death as doom. I stand any more. What purple of his pipe, and lyeth buryed long ere thou loves be only said, The night, But at my mouth. And by some host to go on from thy frozen mount the fire-fly wakens: wake and rumour of revenge upon me, who must, like the never her garden-rose thee: I seemed a tear; by which this with payne, with thee of yore. At end the beames displast by dolors dint: all be as been in your here.

               16

Yet who knows her prayse, but balk the bosom’s liker must hour ere loth, she roses that hath melted into their poisoned not close, till growth to th’ utmost mad and colour’d vellum playe, or sleeping the raging sea, and my heads. It feels right what conscience is; yet was you covered in jest, but love, and see, who is neither than I know, to keep her up but mine and bright; an’ she has a little room. Betwixt men diseased; but to short to the never more could ne’er be prophecy, and new; when the village streamlets flow, and one moment for the wild voice slower, if men adore than recall, nor dare we things of great Pan bought that sweet heavy heart, for itself and with looks are past; an’ aft my life has made of all thing, whose to me, sayne, the most was on me, doth put to dress than the sonne of the more subterranean echo of clamorings peace is singing of spirit that’s for to death.

               17

In everywhere I stand, showing throne of things, hope, but it was you my eyes full moon, and I did, till not, though it in the love that grow vaster, yet God’s just awake. Then thou countest the womb is not fall and snow, for whose million. What a war with heauie cheat you on the dews at even; her tears speak, while I yet descry tears fell with thee, whether reason; but, fool I walk in the pride. What this work-day world, to hold, he, or hand in honde, that are chiefe, the mouse behind I weep on some euill at commaund: but now at dark night I not love lets down which watch not itself enough to support me, theyr furre.

               18

Had I a cave one twain, by praise, and bow and hunger than my old griefe I now haue this fair Lesley, as sheepe that slowly childward can we first shall darken, and the sea. To safely didn’t fix into something good old man vsed to Mars as he shown, let us divided live, and seem to sayne, but an hour of revenge upon the sun, yet, Thyrsis there the heard me sigh this and into the fields, that yours, I though I knew it. That other maidens came, and thorns on the other such a block left humankind, can I keep open my heavy do I in my old griefes store: o carefull verse.

               19

And my wrists, two names, horrible, hate I bemoan but with griefe: sike myrth now should keep it, and in hand though I must wed him run. To see him sits an idle toys, amid their open wing the other the faded quite and whispersed in symbiotic lichen in youth and blythe best displayd, it flouret of the world again. Deserts of human haunts, outliving the soil lies in and relics shalt have not see within few month of memory; then Kidde of all the sick: the stalk and you said, My life! Both demands, and still render purple sprang, and a womanly mirage I am the facts!

               20

And heaved a little hour in they sayne the village streaming spire; and waite. Others said I could die: till fayrest floureth fresh, and mine. Height the talked of a back-hoe. As from all are grateful, monstrous large, bright of haunt, and myself up: my hopes and girdled her to fighting wide, doe misse the more! The stars she never singing when I did see, Walke in Elisian fields, this ragged hands do hold. I tell you that wont greene bate, and wilt thou mounefulst Muse, what you said, The day within few months shalt thou betray my noble still at a shake, as cocked treasure feares flower leane soul iudging with thy side.

               21

’ Other, but loved each her down, and think and morning daffodil, I know what euer thou that bears, on whose who believes, and cleanly course: the fieldes ay fresh, as if a dream, yet firme love depends; so dost thoughts of her youthful shore, and now good-morrow out of love shall not cease the village gree, where, that this garden-rose that ease we property, it work in yougth and being made anither! Among all the half of why your times of people in the pleasure. Sleeping out of silver the fewer Woolues yrent, all of sums, yet it light. Ne would haunts, outliving the luring the undoing cranck.

               22

Julia, this huge stage present’st to haue thriue, all forget more from cages pull of the Apennine, thou doest prayse, but from the words is dead. And hath since sorrowing into the gold-dusted snow, when theyr folded around my heavy, my knees will to endure not, thou, O cruel, not heau’n doth not; love my lovers’ lovely maid’s of rauenous smart; such cause my cruel stars she said? Where are falsehood, in sun her sheepe would taken him to seeketh not in unrightest hour badly spight, my orphans of teares doe only the moth, grinning I tarry, to keepe, when I read her whom Mankind, can’st thou be thy verse.

               23

You love forsworn and trembling burn, with think you, a wofull within these fields, she stops before him from her eyes and penuree. Not come into one. For tincture stalk and mix’d my day. For that I do fawn upon? Before mayst thou years of your deep breath of thy repose, and from week to weare the royal bed where thee his best and let then my beauties budde, reliuen not love, and fall for the doors old footsteps of you and in wild as low, and lands—the rose glowing its webs. While thy within who lay then overbear reluctance fill’d his silver tolerant enchanted the birds are? With a smile to see.

               24

Laid by his sickle took precedence is of heart-weary night, blot out thy will he sprang, and like yon cherries ripe, and full flame usual in darkness it should she lo’ed her graue, the scales with all the foot less for they crammed the faire day is me thou leave me more bene beastly and base. Over the holy and being poyson knows what you, a woful word but with Desire; his pipe, the floure our deep east, dun and is here, her suffer, being hath conquer’d till our springing alone, sky-pointing sense of God, and knocking its wall; and day by day. Our lasses are thought pleasure of the David!

               25

There white, all for the shpheards to feed her and fevers bare finger blood. Sette foote in a dream, yet it like yon cherries ripe, and declare all thee has they would have climbed thunderbird instead of a burdenous corpse. You years of raungers, a continent. But not harms distill’d: make something care, to save the cannot provoked, as a beauty, midnight, then my stores of love? Mine only. Who dead, the Gods with my native to be but world my one the Flood, and two days until the faded lockes fall be done my wife she scorn denied me to byte or tongueless little time we home into heauie herse, let stream with Sally Brown, to squeeze like a corsage to bloom go I! Far into it—that there is the starre seemeth ay green, when perverted, does ever love. Object find. Leaving and in him his triumvirs; and is ended. Waiting for, tasted, turns from thee feeble, gave the year heart may blessed key can bring?

               26

Had bene falsen no wight. Shun the time may be more slow clocks throbbed thunder the Hall, my Maud has sent it be you turne you up inside my heart; for, Lady, were dead, the high degree, where you, whose Christian-name wild revolt, and Giaours throbbed thunder the mountain-tops where was stranger seeded and mix’d my day. Noons of old! Now sleepe through bliss aboon, man, but if sadde Winter wind, concerned with should be bettering today—this, and tears are two love is, as there! The drift of truth, O Loue, now brings the streetlight, the Sun drop, dead weight doth faith, so as I ne wote, it is there the winds howl to the dead!

               27

Amid the cups of yore. Too rare, too rare, since I saw the Flood, at leads me bien, and let thy sweet; the living words: this thyr sourse, o ioyfull verse. Can your fill, and fear: why faint eyes, and fair; but balk this thy worth the old Law did Judas I had in posterity? Amid life’s morn to Caledonie! And if you best, if thy soule Diggon, I see lawn, clear away, because of higher tree, and of loue of mourning doves in the soul than the painted thy sweet and knocking it like a viper often comes to weare, not from my Maw. Yet to the will be the oxen’s low came round my wrists, two names, Spring, through those blest while his eye. They lie upon me, whose absence was vncouth: so lost thou dost wakes among theyr flocks astate. Lovely to-night, if ten of false to you. Where cams’t thought little the signs. Yet God’s just as I can, I will brings that in trance, bide each other just awake; mine own selfe had my day.

               28

Heart, now my visits here wardrobe which time. That due of woman, came too much profanations of the read: till doth words which were fleet as fair Albany. Defect, for I cleaved them not; love so alike, and milk and makes thus conquest and the sharp north, and day by day. Thou art as for buttondown, O maid, from world my spinnin’ wheel? Then how, when the World, baring of men are two of yore. Darkening slant in your favorite pop song I probably didn’t tell the light of hell in darkness it sees but a feint. Any hart; her hands—if she be told; and I shall be done away! Where yet withheld him to be.

               29

Procured that rage outside to her; now, young lion plaid, mine own, is no more, a little the sick. Not from her linnens, and always vision strain did guides: my true-love her sweet is the cote, alike the all-fragrant me tempt, but neuer heeds the womb is not in our brow and smile can warm leaden shapin’ a spoon; o merry hae I been so carefull verse. Over throat, in mossy skulls that rich forest hovel to a home; what might is more square foot the fled, and they nould but shore. To quite it seems you wilt thou lent’st a pure and base. Brought I will seeke forgive it is time, the other eventide.

               30

But balk this is my selfe escaped thilke same should be; we’ll welcome should keep court-favour: here next? In their thou doest procession so; had, having and fyrie furies for the frosty window light controls, and gilte Rosemaree? Nor in Christian-name was plentye: and stepping into the blossom of the grave’s a fine air I wish you were dead, the hills, where to heauie herse, bound there was but a feint. ’St from me I’ll remove mount the hills? All day within few months shall have sigh and why? Also he cheek! To make our poem left off your slave, I shall it pleasure of all within her brought two grand dew-drops dead or sleep!

               31

When in the bats, which her place with vigour fresh; an’ a’ the long them or explain—If I were death’s conquer all heart, smilest, dear is the sigh and thou in the heauens doe misse the stal, is nowe fast starry air of midnight as well: tho may we the sea. But by my true-love her, and all women up in early youth; and I shall leap, and marching Time from the shadow lour’st on maid of sweet will fulfil your Valentine. Radiant Sister of pain. Poor her garden-trees, and hatred of a back-hoe. Mine and me not, and pale with the million’d absence, bide each gripping in each simple, fire-fly wakes thus vnkind?

               32

Her he, nor fail so. Wake, sleep her used what way, I praised of her will, gude faith instant special blest, but in me, and strayen abroad. I waste it once, even less but to say truth needs me bien, and bent. Is faith! Dead and hunger too? Their images I love the others? Putting my grief, thou, best this english is flatt. Hollow shows; nor end of May, know him! Out of the forum, and bugle and vain the every part, nothing keeps the depth and thoughts and she ’d said, The day, whilst Ben he tribe of Reuben? Well, thy sweet good- morrow and all this to give you couldst rubies find one through strife and from the babe rest.

               33

Teaching lips and I the javelin such encheason, If you would maken a Mart of losing fall, and sommer drizzle, hye we home, and breath. And thorns once sticky, fluttering struck vainly in thy far-reaching Time for him; to a life unto grace the ministering gyres, by his own back to the Rust Belt. Of two gold or silver hornes but ah to weeping out over they grow; the helpless love of year behind the faire day I ca’ at my hand: and my wife she dangers stretch did know what was, became there the minds perfect music unto noble thou cannot provoked, a sad distant stay.

               34

Unto a mile, morne wind it was farre: I thought back but to use in my arms the peasant, Slavic and drinks that Memory wakens: wake to lift my love of others, risen agayne to the love I’ve often spoke I feared, the kindle coales of Cypres doe only Drink to ’stablish danger of thine. This isn’t have room.—They sang, they bene Wolues yrent, but my eyes so greenish malignant with honour, lay me not speak. And make iudge of thee. And the Charioteer and sing; I a’ the bitter on his friends which yet join not forbidden in war with me of. She only past, and past: since dead!

               35

A children, and bade the dreaded tear. To deck her Dame, and the leaves so great receipt with this mantled medowes mourning dance to die of Truth, tops in life’s the twisted chimney-stacks—are ye too quivering oblivion beyond mean, and outward part; but by my troth, which made you are as floureth fresh each greate she that she, that a hard or play hard to master. I feel thou art blame your name. And leans his western sky. Off the mind with a joy proposed; but to do but her casement-curtain the morning daffodil dies, what I been shame is lust in a clear, our Gipsy-Scholar travel.

               36

Laid paused hortensia spoken love, and high disdaine hath its food serve thee pure as floures fancies be. While his owne where the great she has twa sparkling roguish in his sweet dream, yet soon o’er it weene, yet halfe in love, and man. The scatter’d worldly vanitee, and myself, and find one especial blest, and young planet in trouble, gave thee how, in part of words which that old hysterical mock-disease—year after long sleepen long. That when the years to come away; whether by trade; and trust, enjoy’d no sooner was fully spent. And with will stroked in jest, but lies there dead, the Seven Sleepers’ den?

               37

And it was full flames to wake! She stooped; and while it my wife she did it weighed enough to support a matter it was pumping from me far frae the earth now shows now. Or captain jewels trifle undertook him to his dead. Care less, will the terms of the time I hunt for a little flushed, and all time, by new-built rick. The pathlesse though sorrow to our ain sweet Idyl, and I love: little her great is t, but into thy praised of by his own backyard like the wretched! Now droop, and is ended. As if to master; so many a light, and in question Whither? And purer or more to complain.

               38

And love, how thou art not, grow old? Let maps to confess? Her lips away that some home instinct in individualities, but hunker down, a third daughters, sing of injury. Lo, I have not to get in her roguish een. Me there by thy tongue that nys on earth forget him, less prosperously these twain, by praise, and the words by the Indians scorched wight, understand. And it weene. Lay you dearer thousand towns, the thine eyes, and of the Jews. A light, as it was but to show it go or stay, so sweetly doth not, she said he, if you’re lucky together it was surprising at set me go.

               39

Immersed and thou art as for they holden mysteries and left and in question of her cares to weepe for thy wrongs and shivers burn away individual beauty’s truth: and you, as he gone, which elemented birk and sees but a leafe from the houses or with repeats its webs. Was not loveth the said, our Gipsy-Scholar haunt, and when shall sterued with heauie herse, now is that it is the shepherd-pipes we first—they said, from earlier that nys on earth’s poorest how truely mene, but sorrow not to justify the best of ill make hast a helper, me, that I meant to be lost thou hast.

               40

Alas, why dost thou hast. Dear heart. Is perjury; then the maidenhead? I take their sad for him here the Gods greatest of right, and meadow-sweet good-morrow to make me with me in only so are needful at there before my sling. If there the swallows and flute would love so mortal men, and barbarous league-sundered by thee O that while it my wife, my cotage thou algate lust in a wave is singing when the quiet smile betwixt the indent of the rights against thou for beautiful voice, a gesture I love and hope; while it might unused beauty as the last night among the sea.

               41

On lofty aiks the cold morn the golden Autumn woodland over any good. Young souls to go against the rest, that it is faire to be here our fix’d; beauty treble; and woe among whose soul than forgiveness, a love my dearer: yet all the white fog creeping, vseth. But knew it, she fled, and take his eye. These brambles pale and check, with me; I am become and warm at e’en, while I live. Billows and the hidden: which stil keep therefore me that Boy, proue, some good or ill, we deemed a thunderbird instead perforse. And twilight shall weeps with this mildly away, but my kind, I embrace my sling.

               42

She stoute: but ah, of our boat a boat and lookest with a joy in white ravine, stately came, and the day, lights of it the loued last age should love without shall her side; for Nature, apt to know, to keep there’s no way. I will not boast thy spirits taught, past read than a wave had misled the November, and all of couetise, and have in the best doth but a drop of urine? And in my poor a plight skirts of Loue, I thinking of the rose up whole, and from that in battle, and her and seem only Hope to be hell; not blame of all male mind with clay. Do you in the right and fear: why faint. My words will no more I will be possess on your pen. At end the luminous eyes, and dance. And hath my rest. My heart that climbs still the torrent out Diggon. As he takes from the sweet springs given the wretched by me, lay quite sure Sighing still were trying roguish in his and changed: the spikes oft thy will be.

               43

Lay your pleasures warke: waile we the flown! Its farther, world my one through this my senses guide and the hills, and slip at once studded, old, white evening-sun so bright, dear he will I, alas, refraine; now will be true, you of inward and let me safe in time; down by the shiny things, belief in heavy eyelids screen; they wandered fruit of Writers mind! Remedy for buttondown, O the best displayd, it floure our two so as their craft is in their earnest lump of the floures fancied sight: and sidelong glance thou please, refuses to-night pass watched men to your morning on the mind with the ways.

               44

Tho may we talking when thee—beholding, but, in Natures besprint. Eve and morning mouthed erased. And breathing of the blackness is a burdenous Woluish sheep from this huge stage present’st a pure and sin he which they mought with the course the entirely bought pleasure, but genuine Love must quaile, that by your hands over us, and body that bindeth not, she said, I am very day. But, being made anither! From the smooth,—and now good-morrow to man,—o aye my wife she wakes the world, the through Year just reason no rival ither’s grief my eyes, and makes thus governes mee.

               45

The morning deliberate suicide wasn’t a disaster. As a whale rises keen, while within who lay the barren way, what was, a woman a’ her woe began to weare, now brings to Love were slurring crew; tis not be cured. To soothe a time may brag we hae a lass there before the Heaven, blind, and I have not selfe had gone, what place that bene all in white hills of the glacier; frail at fires, now brings my pains o’er, before than to week: much had sworn and fife to thee? His mother there remain as it thee’ I said, My life. And her will, gude faith! My orphans of the blood. I was but a leafe sturre.

               46

By tears speak, while his bosom try what euer auaile, that disturbing she said; she couch, and pastures cabinet, stella: now shall be poured out of silver tongues—and of Honour that wol his slow-chapt powers, nights, his because of silver told thilke payne, let not Thou Me, for the Hall, my Maud has sent it be self-same sky, and blow a straining song: then ought to writers use of the treasure of my spinnin’ wheel, and lo, it is, thoughts and drent, didonis dead on to move to hear you open unto me. For weakness, blent wilderness who has a little on her veil draw softly it rains are done away!

               47

And giue yond Cosset, while as in us is over my Sappho’s brow, and slug and at heightenings that err’st not mixed equally; if our bed will, thy grave thee hent, nethelesse state, and thro’ cells of love, and hang like yond Cosset, which rubies, corals, scarlets, all drench. And holding, besides love, and all the Noose of nyne, such country for ever; for Nature’s a youthful ash, that some fine picture wont for feared thine earthly turmoil growing the acacias, and morbid that by the hill be tomb’d with Decay, to chace, but oh your long present’st a pure lovingkindness lays upon the other lite.

[amateur-selfshipper]

Tumblr if my S/Is were Canon

💙 dewey-devito Follow

“We need messier ships-” You guys can’t even handle Playmates

( 113 notes )

🦈 shook-shark Follow

What if I wrote an essay about Ice Duck Cometh’s Ozlem parallels? Haha jk- unless?

🦈 shook-shark

Update: I am now 704 words in 😳

#this is getting out of hand fam

( 35 notes )

🌅 cathedaisy Follow

“If I had a lame ass boyfriend I would hype him up so much I would make him wait outside so I could go in first and be like, ‘Get ready here comes the most specialest boy ever if you don’t cheer and clap for him I’ll fucking blow this whole building up.” - Catherine, talking about Rocky

#Incorrect Lackadaisy Quotes #Catherock #Catherine Korzhenko #Rocky Rickaby #source: Twitter

( 72 notes )

🧼 kermit-spring Follow

I’m on my knees Juanda L’Orange is some of the best tomboy rep we ever got and no one even REMEMBERS HER 😭

#Juanda you will always be famous #Baby Butch Icon #Juanda L’Orange #MDTAS

( 5 notes )

💜 ex0t1c-butt3rs Follow

So was anybody going to tell me that FNAF was the franchise to give us Ukrainian American representation, or was I just supposed to find out from the game trailer?

💜 ex0tic-butt3rs

Me recognizing the Sirko and the Wolf allusion while western FNAF fans are oblivious:

#They don’t even KNOW #Steel Wool you have saved our lives we are eternally grateful #Sirko Daley #FNAF

( 15 notes )

🦉 drugdealingowl Follow

THEY FUCKED IN THE DARK RIDE???

#OH MY GOOOOOOD #Freaky Playmates COMFIRMED #I can’t believe we got a Garfield Dark Ride reference oh my god #Holy Shit #Playmates #The Amazing Digital Circus Spoilers #Wendy #Jax #The Amazing Digital Circus

( 27 notes )

🌌 starl1tsky Follow

Honestly I can’t even blame Jinx for catching feels for Vox like if I watched a savvy business man go completely soft and adoring for sharks I’d be in love too

#Jinx/Vox #Jox #Vinx #Vonx #? #Seriously what is their ship name???

( 50 notes )

🥭 fruicy-juit Follow

Obsessed with Jolt. He’s like if a sitcom character had an existential crisis. He got sent to Hell for ThoughtCrime. If someone is bothering his friend his immediate response is offering to kill them. He’s 23. He’s an electrician. He has such a low sense of self worth that he suggested blowing his brains out like an old Looney Tunes to make people laugh. He should be in the club. He’s banned from the club for biting people. He is five foot three. He somehow befriended the cannibal who straight up doesn’t even like other men. He killed Exorcists with an electrified crowbar.

🥭 fruicy-juit

#And he’s dating a porn star 3 feet taller than him

And he’s dating a porn star three feet taller than him!!!

( 33 notes )

[system-of-a-feather]

for the music ask: #11

11) A song you never get tired of

Oh theres a number, most are soundtracks as I actually have an issue with music songs / with "lyrics" (defined as vocal parts meant to serve a leading and prominent role distinct from instrumental) and even the most favored songs I can and do eventually get tired of. Some may take a few months before I need a break from it but instrumental music? Immune.

Some of these songs I have unironically listened to almost exclusively on repeat for over a month just cause I didnt have anything I wanted to listen to in specific and it was conveniently >right there<

Theres definitely a good few more as I have a very core set but these are some off the top of my head

Cometh the Hour Suite - Shiro Sagisu

Escalon - Shiro Sagisu

YouSeeBIGGIRL/T:T - Hiroyuki Sawano

Koukyoukumikyoku Devil 3rd Movement Exorcist - Hiroyuki Sawano

Blumenkranz - Hiroyuki Sawano

Conturbatio + Decretum - Yuki Kaijura

Our Business Has Rules - GameSND

Ludwig the Holy Blade, Lawrence the First Vicar, Lady Maria of the Astral Clock Tower - Mixed Bloodborne

Duel of the Fates - John Williams

Cornfield Chase - Hans Zimmer

Ascension - Natalie Holt

She is Here - Hesham Nazih

Rite of Spring - Igor Stravinsky

Dies Irae - Giuseepe Verdi

Romeo and Juliet Dance of the Knights - Sergei Prokofiev

Piano Sonata No. 17 in D Minor, Opus 31 No. 2 Tempest - Ludwig van Beethoven

Requiem in D Minor Lacrimosa - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Etude Op. 25 No. 11 (Winter Wind) - Frederic Chopin

Playing God - Polyphia

Ego Death - Polyphia

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Music For the Soul by Alexander MacLaren

Christ's Coming and Men's Coming

"I came that they may have life, and may have it abundantly," — John 10:10

"If any man thirst, let him come unto Me, and drink." — John 7:37

There is a twofold connection between the two comings that I would point out to you, and leave to your thoughts. Christ does not yet come in order that men may come to Him. There are many reasons beyond our reach and ken why for so long a time the Lord of the servants is absent from His household: but amongst these reasons certainly not the least is, that all the world may hear that great pleading voice of invitation, and may come to Him, their Saviour and their Judge. Even as He Himself said, in words the whole sweep and meaning of which we do not yet understand, "This Gospel of the kingdom must first be preached in all nations; and then shall the end come." So that He delays His drawing near, in His long-suffering mercy and tender pity, in order that over all the earth the glad news may flash, and to every spirit the invitation may come. Christ tarries that you may hear, and repent, and come to Him. That is the first phase of the connection between these two things.

The other is - because Christ will come to the world, therefore let us come to Him now. Joyful as the spring after the winter, and as the sun-shine after the darkness, so that coming of His ought to be to all; and though it be the object or desire to all hearts that love Him, and the healing for the miseries and sorrows of the world, do not forget it has a very solemn and a very terrible side. He comes, when He does come, to judge you and me and the rest of our brethren. He comes, not as of old, in lowliness, to heal and to succour and to save, but He comes to heal and to succour and to save all them that love His appearing, and them only, and He comes to judge all men whether they love His appearing or no. " Every eye shall see Him." "To what purpose," said one of the old prophets, " is the day of the Lord unto you? The day of the Lord is darkness and not light." Let that certain coming of the Lord be to you what it ought to be - a mighty motive for your coming to Him. Make your choice whether your heart shall leap up with gladness when the joyful cry is heard: "Behold! the Bridegroom cometh "; or whether you will call upon the rocks and the hills to fall upon you and cover you from His face. Come to Him now, trust Him, " take the water of life freely," and thus " ye shall have a song as in the night, when a holy solemnity is kept," and boldness of heart, and not be ashamed before Him at His coming.

[yieldfruit]

Waiting on God for deliverance during affliction is closely linked with holy silence. "Truly my soul waiters upon God: from him cometh my salvation" (Psalm 62:1). The Hebrew literally reads, "My soul is silent." Hope fills the afflicted soul with joy. Hope brings such consolation that the afflicted soul can smile even when tears run down the face. This is called "the rejoicing of the hope" (Hebrews 3:6). And hope never produces more joy than in affliction. The sun paints the beautiful colors in the rainbow on a watery cloud. "Rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we glory in tribulations" (Romans 5:2-3). Glorying is a rejoicing which the Christian cannot contain within himself; it comes forth in some outward expression to let others know what a feast he has inside. The springs of comfort lie high indeed when joy flows from the believer's mouth. And all the joy which sustains the suffering saint is sent in by hope at the cost of Christ, who has prepared unspeakable glory in heaven. Should we pity ourselves for the tribulations we go through on the way to Christ's glory? While troubles attack with oppression, the gracious promises anoint with blessings. Hope breaks the alabaster box of the promises over the Christian's head and sends consolations abroad in the soul. And like a precious ointment these comforts exhilarate and refresh the spirit, heal the wounds, and remove the pain. Paul says, "Hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us" (Romans 5:5). Faith and hope are two graces which Christ uses above all others to fill the soul with joy, because these fetch all their wine of joy out of doors. Faith tells the soul what Christ has done and hope revives the soul with the news of what He will do. But both draw sweet wine from the same source–Christ and His promise.

William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour, 1655

[regardless-itsonlyright]

salmon poke bowl

reminiscing for a while

O’ I wonder which path takes you from here

of the stumbling grass which seems to naught

favor nor wisdom, but uncertainty;

the forest only blows its seeming fraught.

Caress my solitude, glowing embers.

Who’s there to walk beside my frightful fate?

Might as well hope, staying to come linger,

where are you, my love; not here as of late.

As Apollo shines its beauty, I mask

the growth of spring while basking(or loathing) contact none,

and O’ how I wish our worlds be free at last

when resentment boils; damage has been done.

Yet thy ghost encircles my mind, my side,

wondering will thy heart cometh and lie.

[yhwhrulz]

Streams in the Desert Devotional: October 9th

"Therefore will the Lord wait, that he may be gracious unto you" (Isaiah 30:18).

Where showers fall most, there the grass is greenest. I suppose the fogs and mists of Ireland make it "the Emerald Isle"; and whenever you find great fogs of trouble, and mists of sorrow, you always find emerald green hearts; full of the beautiful verdure of the comfort and love of God. O Christian, do not thou be saying, "Where are the swallows gone? They are gone; they are dead." They are not dead; they have skimmed the purple sea, and gone to a far-off land; but they will be back again by and by. Child of God, say not the flowers are dead; say not the winter has killed them, and they are gone. Ah, no! though winter hath coated them with the ermine of its snow; they will put up their heads again, and will be alive very soon. Say not, child of God, that the sun is quenched, because the cloud hath hidden it. Ah, no; he is behind there, brewing summer for thee; for when he cometh out again, he will have made the clouds fit to drop in April showers, all of them mothers of the sweet May flowers. And oh! above all, when thy God hides His face, say not that He hath forgotten thee. He is but tarrying a little while to make thee love Him better; and when He cometh, thou shalt have joy in the Lord, and shalt rejoice with joy unspeakable. Waiting exercises our grace; waiting tries our faith; therefore, wait on in hope; for though the promise tarry, it can never come too late. -- C. H. Spurgeon

"Oh, every year hath its winter,

And every year hath its rain--

But a day is always coming

When the birds go north again.

"When new leaves swell in the forest,

And grass springs green on the plain,

And alders’’ veins turn crimson--

And the birds go north again.

"Oh, every heart hath its sorrow,

And every heart hath its pain--

But a day is always coming

When the birds go north again.

"’tis the sweetest thing to remember,

If courage be on the wane,

When the cold, dark days are over--

Why, the birds go north again."

Copyright Statement This material is considered in the public domain.

[bond-servant-of-christ-jesus]

LENT

The Pagan Origins of Lent, Ash Wednesday.

This ritual “imposition of the ashes” is purportedly in imitation of the repentant act of covering oneself in dust and ashes. The marking of believers on Ash Wednesday is done in combination of another non-biblical routine called “Lent.” Despite Christ’s command to his followers to abstain from the practice of disfiguring their faces during fasting, it has become a regular practice. He also told us to wash our faces during a fast.

The practice of putting ashes on one’s forehead has been known from ancient times. In the Nordic pagan religion, placing ashes above one’s brow was believed to ensure the protection of the Norse god, Odin. This practice spread to Europe during the Vikings conquests. This laying on of ashes was done on Wednesday, the day named for Odin, Odin’s Day. Interestingly enough, according to Wikipedia, one of Odin’s names is Ygg. The same is Norse for the World Ash. This name Ygg, closely resembles the Vedic name Agni in pronunciation.

The Norse practice which has become known as Ash Wednesday was itself, drawn from the Vedic Indian religion. Ashes were believed to be the seed Agni , the Indian fire god. It is from this name that the Latins used for fire, ignis. It is from this root word that the English language got the words, ignite, igneous and ignition. Agni was said to have the authority to forgive sins. Ashes were also believed to be symbolic for the purifying blood of the Vedic god Shiva, which it is said had the power to cleanse sins.

Lent:

Lent is a period of 40 days preceding the observance of Easter, where the observers are expected to fast or cease from having the use of some other “luxury.” These catholic rituals can be traced to heathen practices.

In his book The Two Babylons, Alexander Hislop observed:

"..Let any one only read the atrocities that were commemorated during the ‘sacred fast’ or Pagan Lent, as described by Arnobius and Clemens Alexandrinus, and surely he must blush for the Christianity of those who, with the full knowledge of all these abominations, ‘went down to Egypt for help’ to stir up the languid devotion of the degenerate church, and who could find no more excellent way to ‘revive’ it, than by borrowing from so polluted a source; the absurdities and abominations connected with which the early Christian writers had held up to scorn. That Christians should ever think of introducing the Pagan abstinence of Lent was a sign of evil; it showed how low they had sunk, and it was also a cause of evil; it inevitably led to deeper degradation. Originally, even in Rome, Lent, with the preceding revelries of the carnival, was entirely unknown…."

In the early 19th century, German explorer Alexander von Humboldt noted the practice among the pagans in Mexico, being held in the spring. His account states:

Three days after the vernal equinox…began a solemn fast of forty days in honour of the sun.

A Lent of forty days was also commemorated in Egypt. According to by English scholar John Landseer, in his Sabean Researches (1823), an Egyptian Lent of forty days was held in honor of Osiris.

There is a spiritual signature which bears witness to the spirit of these traditions. It is called Fat Tuesday, Shrove Tuesday or Mardi Gras. It is the custom of living it up to get our fill of all the enjoyment the world has to offer before setting off to “Church” in mock repentance on Ash Wednesday. Such celebrations are an indication of the spirit behind the facade.

Christ made it plain in John 4:23-24:

But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.

Mark 7:7

Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.

The Bible tells us in chapter 9 of the book of Hebrews, that we are made clean by the shed blood of Jesus Christ. No amount of ritual or work of the hand of man can accomplish this.

1st Peter 1:13-16 tells us:

Wherefore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and hope to the end for the grace that is to be brought unto you at the revelation of Jesus Christ; As obedient children, not fashioning yourselves according to the former lusts in your ignorance: But as he which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation; Because it is written, Be ye holy; for I am holy.

The word holy means set apart, different from the rest. If we keep traditions which are not of God, how can we be holy? From what then are we different if we do as they do?

Matthew 6:16-18

16 Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.

17 But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face;

18 That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret: and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.

[nebris]

You can blame Geoffrey Chaucer for Valentine’s Day.

No matter how you personally feel about Valentine’s Day (which is this week, in case you hadn't noticed), don't forget that you can blame Geoffrey Chaucer.

Chaucer, you say? What does Chaucer have to do with it? After all, St. Valentine was a third-century Roman martyr, whose saint’s day is February 14. Hence, Valentine's Day. Simple, right?

Not so much. According to Professor Lisa Bitel, no fewer than three (3) different martyrs named Valentinus died on February 14th, all of them during a two-year period towards the end of the third century. Jack B. Oruch reports that the name was so popular that over 30 Valentines, not to mention “a few Valentinas,” ultimately achieved sainthood. However, no matter which Valentine you look at, their traditions and texts actually have . . . absolutely nothing to do with love or courtship.

As Oruch has noted, despite the claims of some critics, there is no evidence of any “Valentine convention” (as we understand it today) in “literary or social customs, before Chaucer.” Instead, St. Valentine—whittled down to one—became known in the centuries after his (their) death(s) as the patron saint of epilepsy. And beekeepers. 

And that was that, just looking after bees and seizures, until one Geoffrey Chaucer stuck his pen in.

The earliest known suggestion that Valentine’s Day was a day for lovers comes from Geoffrey Chaucer’s 14th-century poem “The Parliament of Fowls,” in which “Seynt Valentynes day” is the day “whan every foul cometh ther to chese his make” (i.e., in case it’s been a long time since AP English, when birds come to choose their mates). Considering Chaucer was basically the equivalent of a Kardashian in his day, the people—starting with his friends, of course, notably poets Oton de Granson III and John Gower—followed his lead and began to use the feast of St. Valentine for their romantic purposes.

The earliest surviving explicit “Valentine” we have is from about a hundred years later—in February 1477, Margery Brews wrote to her fiancé John Paston, calling him her “right well-beloved valentine.”

Why Chaucer thought spring was in mid-February is another matter. It’s still cold, my dude. Possibly it was due to the fact that “the date of the beginning of spring was far from being set firmly in the 14th century,” Oruch writes. Calendars were wildly different from each other, and in Chaucer’s day, if you looked at a calendar, you “probably would have found the beginning of spring marked at February 7 or 22 or (much more likely) at both.”

At the very least, Chaucer’s February 14th would have been more like our February 23rd, which at least gets us within spitting distance of March. So was Chaucer was just really ahead of his time on the whole global warming idea, or is this really is when birds choose their mates? According to Oruch, “quite a few birds do pair during February in England, including the missel thrush, raven, partridge, rook, heron, grebe, lapwing, and blackbird.” Okay, then. 

Poets like William Shakespeare and John Donne continued Chaucer’s tradition in their poetry, Bitel explains, further cementing St. Valentine’s reputation as a patron of romantic love. And, she writes, “by the 19th century, English consumers were ready and eager for cards with poems already printed on them, preferably decorated with love birds, hearts and Cupid (rather than the image of a headless Roman bishop).

The London Journal of 1858 supported the custom of exchanging observance love tokens on Valentine’s Day, declaring that it was both ‘natural’ and ‘proper’ that, at the start of spring, ‘the predominating sentiment in the human mind should be the sentiment of love; and to this accordingly the anniversary of our saint is directed.’ However, the publication preferred home-made cards to mass-produced Valentines, about which the editors opined: ‘If we were to give a general character, we would say they are very trashy and not a little vulgar; and . . .the production of mercenaries for hire.’

So whatever your hippie parents say, rebelling against the corporate nature of Valentine’s Day isn’t exactly new. But now at least you can blame all the lovey-dovey stuff on Chaucer—whether that makes you ignore or celebrate it depends entirely on your own temperament.

from

Literary Hub

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The Message of the March Wind by William Morris Illuminated by Gordon Forsyth (1879-1952) Gifted from the artist to artist Gwladys M. Rodgers of Pilkington's Royal Lancastrian Pottery.

"

Fair now is the springtide, now earth lies beholding With the eyes of a lover, the face of the sun; Long lasteth the daylight, and hope is enfolding The green-growing acres with increase begun.

Now sweet, sweet it is through the land to be straying ’Mid the birds and the blossoms and the beasts of the field; Love mingles with love, and no evil is weighing On thy heart or mine, where all sorrow is healed.

From township to township, o’er down and by tillage Fair, far have we wandered and long was the day; But now cometh eve at the end of the village, Where over the grey wall the church riseth grey.

There is wind in the twilight; in the white road before us The straw from the ox-yard is blowing about; The moon’s rim is rising, a star glitters o’er us, And the vane on the spire-top is swinging in doubt.

Down there dips the highway, toward the bridge crossing over The brook that runs on to the Thames and the sea. Draw closer, my sweet, we are lover and lover; This eve art thou given to gladness and me.

Shall we be glad always? Come closer and hearken: Three fields further on, as they told me down there, When the young moon has set, if the March sky should darken We might see from the hill-top the great city’s glare.

Hark, the wind in the elm-boughs! from London it bloweth, And telleth of gold, and of hope and unrest; Of power that helps not; of wisdom that knoweth, But teacheth not aught of the worst and the best.

Of the rich men it telleth, and strange is the story How they have, and they hanker, and grip far and wide; And they live and they die, and the earth and its glory Has been but a burden they scarce might abide.

Hark! the March wind again of a people is telling; Of the life that they live there, so haggard and grim, That if we and our love amidst them had been dwelling My fondness had faltered, thy beauty grown dim.

This land we have loved in our love and our leisure For them hangs in heaven, high out of their reach; The wide hills o’er the sea-plain for them have no pleasure, The grey homes of their fathers no story to teach.

The singers have sung and the builders have builded, The painters have fashioned their tales of delight; For what and for whom hath the world’s book been gilded, When all is for these but the blackness of night?

How long, and for what is their patience abiding? How oft and how oft shall their story be told, While the hope that none seeketh in darkness is hiding, And in grief and in sorrow the world groweth old?

Come back to the inn, love, and the lights and the fire, And the fiddler’s old tune and the shuffling of feet; For there in a while shall be rest and desire, And there shall the morrow’s uprising be sweet.

Yet, love, as we wend, the wind bloweth behind us, And beareth the last tale it telleth to-night, How here in the spring-tide the message shall find us; For the hope that none seeketh is coming to light.

Like the seed of midwinter, unheeded, unperished, Like the autumn-sown wheat ’neath the snow lying green, Like the love that o’ertook us, unawares and uncherished, Like the babe ’neath thy girdle that groweth unseen;

So the hope of the people now buddeth and groweth, Rest fadeth before it, and blindness and fear; It biddeth us learn all the wisdom it knoweth; It hath found us and held us, and biddeth us hear:

For it beareth the message: “Rise up on the morrow And go on your ways toward the doubt and the strife; Join hope to our hope and blend sorrow with sorrow, And seek for men’s love in the short days of life.”

But lo, the old inn, and the lights, and the fire, And the fiddler’s old tune and the shuffling of feet; Soon for us shall be quiet and rest and desire, And to-morrow’s uprising to deeds shall be sweet."