#“■■■■■ and I created a family; despite his presence in avoiding certain truths; ■■■■■■ cannot escape the bloodline we all carry.”

[the-jovian-plutonian-effect]

im trying to be more at peace with people misunderstanding me. my whole life i have been put under scrutiny for every little thing i do. mannerisms, thoughts, things i can't change.

im trying to be more at peace with saving my breath, leaving bridges, keeping words unsaid because saying them never really served anyone to say them.

i do not owe anyone my story. i do not owe anyone an explanation. i do not need everyone to understand why i make the choices i make. i am allowed to keep things to myself, and process things away from public eye. i especially dont need to be forth coming with it; wear a reason on my sleeve.

people who will choose to misunderstand me regardless of what i am doing are not going to be swayed by my explainations. there is no point in expending effort that will be unappreciated and disregarded. i don't owe anyone the opportunity to know me, that is my choice and my choice alone.

i am trying to be more at peace with the fact i belong to myself, and my time, my vulnerability, my trust is a thing to be earned. my boundaries are not to be crossed. if choosing to hold onto my self respect is taken as an attack, i am not responsible for that projection.

i am trying to be more at peace with walking away. i hold onto everything so tightly, and i wish to be at peace at all. i have accepted long ago i cannot control anyone else, so i am trying to find peace with my own means.

i am trying to find peace in letting dogs rest where they lie. the truth is no one knows what happens behind closed doors, silver tongues, and shut eyelids. i dont pretend to.

i am trying to be at peace with the ownership of my identity. no matter how i am interpretted no one can take that away from me. this is my life. i do not have to please anyone with my existence.

i am trying to find peace in knowing i am allowed to keep things between me and myself. i am mine, my one and only, and i find peace in my privacy. no one is entitled to take that away from me.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Could we have a portrait of a lady on fire au of james and sirius please! lots of fluff and angst! thankyou!!

((A/N: I haven't seen this movie, so this is based on the summary I read on wikipedia... Warning for mentions of societal homophobia and classism))

James had his first impression of Sirius Black long before they ever met. The Black Family lived out on an island that could only be reached by an oar boat, not anything big enough to have sails. There were less than a thousand people on that island. Probably less than two hundred, if James cared to look into it-- which he didn't. Far away island that was hard to reach, with a sparse population, and they'd paid the money for James to journey out here despite the fact that he wasn't the closest portrait painter by any stretch of the imagination. He was probably the one who was closest and also the most desperate. Which didn't bode well for this assignment.

His second impression of Sirius Black, after having met him face to face, was that he was in trouble. James was. Sirius was too. Sirius was in trouble because he'd tried to leave this entire life behind and been successful until his older brother, the heir, had died under 'mysterious circumstances' that meant suicide but nobody wanted to say to James's face. Or maybe they were unwilling to say it out loud. Either way, James knew how to read between the lines. Sirius hadn't wanted to marry. Ever. He didn't want to pose for the portrait, because once a portrait was finished, it would mean he was ready to be married, and he wasn't willing to let that happen.

James was in trouble because Sirius was obstinate and gorgeous, and certain high born men would be alright with dallying with an eccentric artist while he was walking their halls, but Sirius was not likely to be one of them. Not that James would describe himself as eccentric, but that phrasing likely made them feel better about it. Not that it mattered, in the end. Relationships like theirs were never built to last.

That didn't stop James from looking, and there was nothing in this world that was going to stop Sirius from being difficult about this portrait business. And he didn't even know that James was there specifically to paint his portrait! As far as Sirius was concerned, James was a 'transitionary companion', and he didn't even pretend to understand what that was supposed to mean for him. In practice, it meant that when Sirius went for a long walk along the beach, James went with him. He became his constant companion, hooked to his side through all the activities of the day so he could observe him. He would have to have Sirius's every detail memorized if he was to succeed in painting a portrait of him without him posing for it.

*

"Have you started the painting?" Sirius's mother asked him one day, after checking that it was just the two of them in the room.

"Not yet," James said honestly. He'd done a dozen different sketches, to no avail.

She frowned at him. "Why ever not? You've been here nearly two weeks."

"How am I to paint him when he constantly scowls at me? I will start once I get a smile out of him."

"I hope that is not the option you are putting all your hopes onto."

"Perish the thought, m'lady. I can be very amusing. Some day soon, he will listen to me when I speak, and he will have no other choice," James teased. She was not amused, but what did he care.

*

He spent more than his fair share of time staring at Sirius.

When Sirius asked him about it, James said that he was trying to learn to predict his moods. Which had the advantage of being true, even if it wasn't the complete truth or even his main reason. He was supposed to be studying his features so that he could give Sirius's parents a portrait of him, as he was hired to do.

It only took a week of such staring for James to have a sketch that he could base a painting on. In the late night, when Sirius finally went to bed, James stayed up, working on it.

*

He'd finished the painting. It was what he'd been hired to do, and he shouldn't have thought twice about handing it over to the Black patriarch and running for the next boat off the island. He didn't show it to them. He didn't tell them that he'd finished.

Instead, he showed it to Sirius.

Sirius, who took one look at it after James explained what he was truly hired to do, and said, "It doesn't look like me. There's no sense of spirit or presence. I could be anyone." His gaze seemed to intensify without him moving a muscle. "Anyone at all." Then he turned and walked out the door, leaving James alone, with a horrid painting, a roaring fire, and the burning desire to rid himself of the worst painting he'd ever had the misfortune of creating.

Watching the painting burn was better art than a single brushstroke he'd lain on that canvas.

*

"Are you not terrified?" Sirius asked, their foreheads resting together.

Their looks had lingered. Their touches had grown more frequent and strayed to places that were not considered appropriate for people of their differing stations. They had talked. They hadn't put words to exactly what it was, but beating around the bush meant that there was a bush for them to avoid. It was crystal clear, to both of them, what they had. What they were working towards but hadn't yet done.

"I am," James said.

"You don't act it."

"I fear losing you more than anything else in this world."

"You cannot say that to me," Sirius breathed, nudging his nose against James's. "Do not. We will lose..."

"Everything but each other."

"How does that sort of bravery feel?"

James was helpless to do anything but smile. "Terrifying."

"Like a fire too close?" Sirius asked.

"Exactly. The thrill... the love. The other things we desire in life."

"Not comfort, nor stability."

"Passion," James countered.

"Embracing terrible ideas and seeing them to the end."

"Exactly."

Sirius closed the bare amount of distance between them and pressed their lips together.

It was... fire. Passion and a terrible idea, and yet it was also innocent and like the first light of day, when the world seemed quiet and private, tailored to his wishes. Like the sky would light just for his pleasure.

"Do not leave me," James begged, even though the kiss had only been a few seconds, and neither of them had made any promise. But he wanted a promise now, and he wanted for it to be this.

"I could not, even if I wished it."

"Would you wish it if you could?"

"Never," Sirius said, his voice sure enough that James didn't feel a single moment of doubt. It reminded him of the look Sirius had given him when the end of his cape had caught fire, like it would not move a single centimeter further than he desired of it. Strong. Firm. And utterly tantalizing.

James would give up everything for him.

[theopentable]

No hate, no hate

PENTECOST 18

MARK 7:24-37

If we examine this story there are so many factors that add up to making Jesus and this woman outsiders to each other.

Tyre was an important commercial and political centre as the leading city of Phoenicia. The region included not only the city but also the farmlands and villages located near the border of Galilee that were crucial in terms of feeding the population of the city.

Tyre itself was largely a Gentile population but in the borderlands the area was ethnically mixed – Jew, Gentile, all immersed in an often-uncomfortable collision of ethnic, religious and cultural difference, and all of it heightened by economic tension between the city dwellers and the residents of the villages.

What happened was that the poorer farming communities would be captive to the needs and desires of the wealthier city dwellers. When there was times of poor harvests and food was scarce the poorer farming communities would go hungry at the expense of those in the urban settings who had more resources.

And so we likely have this setting where Jesus is among fellow Jews in the borderlands, where tensions are high, where people feel marginalised, defensive, and vulnerable to exploitation in a context of chronic scarcity – a seedbed for hostility, bitterness and strained relationships.

And then this woman, seemingly from this elite urban classes, comes to Jesus in a desperate state.

And in many ways, she herself is an outsider - in conventional Mediterranean “honour culture” it would have been inconceivable for an unknown, unrelated woman to approach a man in the privacy of his residence—much less a Gentile soliciting favour from a Jew.

So we have all kinds of factors that make both Jesus and this woman outsiders to each other – ethnicity and culture, gender, religion, economic realities, a sense that one people have been exploited by the other….

It’s a dramatic set-up that leaves us expecting that there’s no way of overcoming the distance, the otherness.

It’s impossible to imagine that good would come from this situation.

The whole scene is immersed in difficulty – a world seemingly lacking in grace and mercy, where people are in survival mode.

The text seems to ask, what happens when we’ve become outsiders to each other?

Can there be any healing here?

What happens when our lives are defined by otherness, by distance?

And what might bring us together?

How can we learn to live without enemies?

How can our hostility become hospitality?

How can we rewrite history?

In what way might we need to learn a new way of being?

One of the big challenges in this text for me is that we might imagine that Jesus would be on the front foot showing us the way forward here because when Jesus is involved, God’s heart is engaged.

But then something deeply troubling seems to take place.

Jesus is harsh and refuses to offer healing to someone in a situation of vulnerability.

This is a striking story because the hero or the protagonist doesn’t seem to be Jesus. There’s no story like it!

Jesus calls the woman a dog.

Now there are many thoughts people have offered about this passage –

maybe Jesus said this with a playful look, maybe he gave a wink.

Or maybe he says those words through sad, compassionate eyes naming the normal barriers and dynamics at play in typical relationships between a Jewish man and a Gentile woman – almost as if to say, “I know how this conversation is supposed to go for outsiders like us, let’s name it so we can subvert the way things normally go so we can then pave a new way that is more human.”

These are certainly possibilities.

But is it also possible that Jesus spoke out of his cultural perspective, that perhaps he defaulted to an instinctive reaction to this outsider who may have even brought oppression to his people?

Is that what we’re dealing with here in Jesus’ harsh response, the anger of the rural Jewish poor and the pain of the marginalised?

Is this a reaction to the exploitative economic realities that crush Jewish families and their children?

In reality the text itself doesn’t tidy the matter up, we’re left with questions hanging – surprising questions that we might struggle with.

As I’ve sat with this episode over the years I can’t say I’ve come to a conclusive answer.

But I want to suggest, as the episode unfolds, perhaps we have two heroic examples of what it looks like to overcome distance and otherness in a way that brings good out of almost impossible circumstances, examples that might offer hope for all of us.

First, the woman.

We have to say, at least on the surface way the text is presented to us, that the initial sustaining energy for this relationship originates in the woman.

She comes to Jesus with great courage and desperation.

She is labelled harshly but perseveres despite insult so that her daughter might be healed.

We could talk about the sacred mother-daughter love that she demonstrates, the kind of love that ignores all kinds of barriers and endures all things to make sure that her loved ones may flourish and have the best shot at life.

That’s a powerful form of love. It’s a beautiful kind of love.

It’s the passionate, sacrificial and protective love of a parent. If we all lived from that place we would embrace a rich way of being in the world.

But I think there’s something even deeper than a parent’s love for their child at work in the text, something even more profound about this woman that creates the healing possibilities that this episode encapsulates.

And I think that quality is worthiness.

She hangs in there. The voices that reduce and dismiss and condemn come at her like waves rushing in but she does not allow them to pull her under for good.

She seems to know who she is. She knows that she is worthy.

And she knows that Jesus can heal her.

Somehow she holds onto a greater vision that hatred and division.

She had every right to destroy Jesus in her heart, to put up the walls and shatter the possibilities for relationship between outsiders.

But she doesn’t. And in the process she models for all of us how to avoid being trapped by another’s characterisation as enemy. 

Sharon Ringe writes,

‘Her tactic is the verbal form of the strategy in martial arts of meeting the opponent’s attack by using its own force against the perpetrator. Instead of confronting the insult, she turns the offensive label of contempt to a character in a domestic scene so familiar and so obvious that the logic cannot be refuted: children are always dropping food, and pets gobble it up almost before it hits the ground. Likewise, she and her daughter will get what they need from the bits and pieces that fall from the table on which Jesus’ ‘food’ is intentionally served. Her witty ‘words’ turn his rejection into assent to her request’ (Ringe, A Gentile Woman, Revisited, p.90-91).

The woman’s presence is entirely disarming and non-defensive.

She refuses to repeat the cycles of hostility and suspicion that reflect the shared history of their people.

Perhaps she understands on some level Jesus’ reaction and accepts his pain on some level, absorbing and deflecting the hurt that comes her way in the process.

Let’s be honest. Few things in life are harder to do than this.

The most instinctive and natural thing for all of us to do when we are hurt or insulted is to armour up, to default to a place where we will no longer show any hint of vulnerability to those who might hurt us.

It’s unnatural under these circumstances to show grace.

But the problem is that it only creates a kind of prison for ourselves. No healing can come from that place. It only creates bitterness, hostility and anger in us.

And unless we can find something life-giving to do with our anger and our hurt it destroys us. It saps us of energy and steals our joy.

So how do we do stop that from happening?

How do we disarm our own ego-defences that are endlessly determined to protect, prove, and when necessary, attack?

How do we avoid getting stuck in the endless cycles of bitterness?

I believe the only way we can do this is if we can hold firm to our worthiness, the deepest part of who we are as human beings that is not defined by how we are treated by others.

We can live from our bruises but we are better off living from our unbreakable worthiness that is grounded in God’s profound love for us.

That’s the ultimately truth of who we are. You have infinite dignity of worth. Nothing and no-one can take that from you. 

The first and last word about you is that you are loved, you are loved, you are loved.

And then the extension of that is that so is everyone else – even those who have just hurt us!

They are still God’s beloved. They are our brothers and sisters. We are bound together and when we hurt another we also hurt ourselves.

Love is who we are and love is our destiny. Not hate. Never hate.

Author and spiritual director Alexander Shaia tells a story about how when he was seven years old, racists burned his grandmother’s house to the ground.

The Shaia family had emigrated in the 1950s from Lebanon to Birmingham, Alabama and were Maronite Catholics.

At that time, Birmingham was less than one-half of one percent Catholic, and Maronites were a tiny, obscure minority even among those Catholics.

They were outsiders in a very real sense - a minority of a minority within an immigrant minority in a city that was, in those days, not kind to minorities.

He says,

“They waited until nightfall so they could slip through the shadows. Then they scoured her house, dug in her closets, opened her wooden chest, stripped the mantels of her beloved mementos, and put everything into a big pile in the living room. All the Catholic artifacts, statues, and family pictures from her tiny home were added to the stack. Placing the crucifixes atop the heap, they poured on kerosene, lit matches, and fled.

Fire engulfed the structure in minutes. Summoned from my bed, I rushed to her house with my family and watched the conflagration, despairing, certain that my grandmother was inside, perishing in agony. We all called her “Sitto,” which is Arabic for grandmother, and she was especially beloved to me. Since she walked with a cane, I was sure there was no way she could have escaped the terrible fire. However, hours later she appeared, having fortuitously been taken to church by a friend that evening. Her restoration to us was joyful, but I will never, ever forget the smell of the charred wood, nor my fear, nor the palpable experience of hate that surrounded me that night. Indelibly imprinted on my seven-year-old heart was the clear understanding that being “outside” meant the risk of pain and terror, and perhaps even the loss of life itself.”

Alexander Shaia goes on to talk about how the family met for their regular Sunday dinner five days after the fire:

“We always met on Sundays at Sitto’s house—everyone: parents, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, the whole extended crowd—and usually we sat around the big, old mahogany table, which was covered for the occasion with embroidered linen and china. My recollection isn’t clear whose house we went to that week, but I do remember that the tables were planks on sawhorses, the chairs were folding metal, and the tablecloths were paper.

The grown-ups sat in the middle, the kids around the edges. Sitto, as always, was at the head of the makeshift main table, and when the room hushed, she led us in saying grace. Afterward, there was silence, and then her eyes, clear and direct above the glasses perched midway down her nose, slowly moved to meet the eyes of every person in the room—even ours, the children. We all waited patiently in the silence. Finally she spoke. Her voice was soft, and she said only two words, though she repeated them until she was sure we understood and accepted them: “No hate. No hate.…” And I felt the burden lift from the heart of my family.”

Sitto and the Syro-Phoenician woman both embody the kind of grounding that transforms hate and anger into a healing force for good.

In our little household we try and let this same spirit shape our lives and our relationships. We’ve got a family motto that we come back to all the time, especially if in our interactions we’ve somehow forgotten to live it out.

We say to each other, “remember, no hate, no hurt, no harm. Always love, always love, always love.”

Because we do make mistakes. And it’s brave and hard coming back to that place of love. But we are beloved and love is our destiny.

Which brings me to the way I think Jesus is heroic in this episode.

I used to really struggle with the possibility that Jesus might make a mistake and treat someone with a lack of compassion, that he might have these reactive judgments that somehow missed the full picture of who another is.

And while there are obviously different ways to read this text I’ve come to warm to it over time.

Maybe there’s even something here that can deepen our appreciation and understanding of what love and compassion looks like.

What I want to propose here is that what if love, even here in Jesus’ experience, isn’t so much about always getting it right every time, or finding it easy, but is best displayed in our willingness and capacity to say “I got it wrong, I’m sorry. Let’s make it right. Let’s start again.”

I don’t know about you but that’s a love I can really relate to. Because I have these reactions that rise up within me all the time, that feel right and appropriate. Only they don’t always come with the right spirit. Sometimes they dismiss or reduce others. Often I get it wrong.

But in preference to rumbling with my judgments I rationalise them, justify them, build a strong case around them.

Because then I don’t have to change. Then I get to maintain the high-moral ground. I get to remain guarded.

And I might walk away feeling like I am right and that my cause was a noble one but perhaps all I really did was hurt or dismiss someone when instead it might have been an occasion where some kind of healing could have happened between us.

And if it wasn’t some kind of healing or flourishing for them, perhaps it would have been for me. Maybe some healing or freedom from my own pride, or lack of compassion, or whatever else.

One of the things I’ve been learning is that Jesus comes to us with great tenderness and grace but usually that grace comes in an uncomfortable form –

in the form of otherness, in the form of an outsider that maybe we might have already made up our mind about, or maybe in the form of someone who has hurt us.

Whichever the case, Jesus may come to us in a form that is hard for us to love – at least from each of our own unique experience. Those that are hard to love for me will be different for you and different for others again.

I think those occasions are Christ coming to us, saying “can you receive me?”

If you can you will be drawn into a larger kind of life, a bigger kind of love which is good for us and good for the world.

But usually we struggle to receive Christ in his most uncomfortable forms for some time.

But grace keeps coming, keeps offering us discomfort, keeps offering us opportunities to enter in this one wild life that is before us, perhaps even within us.

And I think that presence comes with words saying, 

“No hate, no hurt, no harm. Always love, always love, always love.”

COMMISSIONING AND BENEDICTION

Let us go and bear witness

to the healing power of Jesus Christ.

May we be a people defined by Christ’s affectionate love,

May God give us strength to choose reconciliation, courage to choose a higher love,

And way we, by the Spirit’s power, embrace even those who might hurt or dismiss us so that a greater good might come.

Go in peace. Amen.

[bibleteachingbyolga]

The book of Revelation confuses many Christians. Filled with beasts, angels, living creatures, wars, lightning, thunder, prophecies, and visions, its story can be a bit overwhelming for any of us. Something like a Marvel movie on steroids.

Not surprisingly, scholars differ widely on what it all means. Some try to tie it to actual people and events in history. Others assign most of Revelation to the future. Still others believe God is giving us repeated descriptions of what is taking place now in the church age.

Wherever we land on the bigger picture, Revelation gives us a series of windows into reality that are both hard to miss and easier to understand: its songs. Woven into the fabric of the book are around a dozen choruses, both spoken and sung. That shouldn’t surprise us given how often in Scripture drawing near to God is expressed and encouraged through singing.

But these songs of heaven are unique. They’re written by God himself, and they show us what singing in God’s presence will really be like. And we may be singing some form of these particular choruses forever. Even now, though, they have much to teach us.

Songs of Exuberance

Let’s admit it. The descriptions of the singing of heaven put the sound of any rock concert or sports stadium to shame, not to mention most churches.

Myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice . . . (Revelation 5:11–12)

And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea . . . (Revelation 5:13)

And all the angels . . . fell on their faces before the throne. (Revelation 7:11)

Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder . . . (Revelation 19:6)

Both audibly and visually, we’re confronted with the fact that those who truly grasp God’s nature and what he’s accomplished will be moved to sing. As Dennis Johnson writes, Revelation shows us that “those who dwell with God in heaven constantly break forth in song, overwhelmed with joy and adoration by his perfections in himself and by his awesome achievements in creation and redemption” (Triumph of the Lamb, 330).

The example of heaven challenges the assumption that congregational worship should be reserved and subdued. While we cite proof texts, claim to honor tradition, and avoid looking too fanatical, might it be that we’re actually just failing to see how great God’s glory in Christ really is?

Songs of Explanation

Heaven’s songs give us insight into the character of God, the works of his hands, and why he does what he does. We don’t hear any of the simple, repetitious 7-11 songs (7 words repeated 11 times — or more!) that are so popular today. Rather, the lyrics shed real light on what’s happening in the world and in the heavenly throne room.

Illuminating Holiness

For instance, at the beginning of Revelation 4, John is shown an open door in heaven. He paints a moving picture of what he sees and hears. A throne. An emerald-like rainbow. Flashes of lightning. Peals of thunder. But what does it all mean? Revelation 4:8 tells us:

Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty,      who was and is and is to come!

God is thrice holy — righteous, omnipotent, eternal, set apart. The song of verse 11 further explains that God created all things and sustains all things for his pleasure:

Worthy are you, our Lord and God,      to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things,      and by your will they existed and were created. (Revelation 4:11)

Unfolding Redemption

At the beginning of chapter 5, John hears a new song, sung to the Lamb:

Worthy are you to take the scroll      and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God      from every tribe and language and people and nation, and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God,      and they shall reign on the earth. (Revelation 5:9–10)

The Lamb could open the scroll because he was slain, a reference to his substitutionary death on the cross. His death ransomed people for God from every tribe, language, people, and nation, a reference to the international scope of the gospel invitation.

The ransomed will be a kingdom and priests to God who will reign forever on earth, a statement showing that God’s promise to make Israel “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6) was fulfilled in the church, made up of both Jews and Gentiles. In short, despite the turmoil and tests of the present age, God will surely have a diverse people for his glory with whom he will live forever.

After an outpouring of praise for the Lamb’s attributes (Revelation 5:12), we hear another song, declaring Jesus’s divinity as clearly as any passage in Scripture: “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!” (Revelation 5:13). In a similar way, our songs should be filled with the character, nature, purposes, actions, and heart of God. Words don’t get in the way of worship. They give substance and meaning to it.

Songs of Encouragement

When God gave John the prophecy of Revelation, Christians were already facing varying degrees of persecution, and it was expected to increase. Pressures to conform to a pagan culture, and even to participate in the idolatry of emperor worship, came at Christians from every direction.

What would give John’s readers faith to endure and courage to stand against opposition? What would strengthen their resolve as they saw friends and family members taken from their homes and martyred for their allegiance to King Jesus? The knowledge that God’s throne is immovable, sovereign, and eternal.

The saints needed to be reminded that, in the heavenly realms, God’s authority and rule are not only affirmed, but celebrated:

The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ. (Revelation 11:15)

We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty,      who is and who was, for you have taken your great power      and begun to reign. (Revelation 11:17)

Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God,      for his judgments are true and just; for he has judged the great prostitute      who corrupted the earth with her immorality, and has avenged on her the blood of his servants. (Revelation 19:1–2)

How often do our songs both detail the forces of evil arrayed against us and point us clearly to the God who has triumphed over them in Christ? David Peterson asks,

Do our hymns and acclamations . . . challenge us to take a firm stand against every manifestation of Satan’s power and to bear faithful witness to the truth of the gospel in our society? It is not good enough to sing certain items merely because they make the congregation feel good! (Engaging with God, 278)

When we sing together, our strength comes not from aiming to feel and emote, but to see and hear. We want to see God reigning on his throne with absolute justice, wisdom, and power over every terrorist, virus, dictator, and manifestation of evil in our day. And we want to hear and join in the cries of jubilation that are already ascending to the God who can do all things and whose purposes cannot be thwarted (Job 42:2).

Songs of Expectation

Endurance is one thing. Expectation is another. It’s possible to sing through dark seasons, discouraging outcomes, heart-wrenching losses, relentless opposition, and dwindling resources with grit, resolve, and stoicism. But that doesn’t describe the songs of heaven. Not even close. They’re marked by joy.

And that joy stems from a confident expectation that God will accomplish everything he has promised. The final songs of Revelation describe God overcoming all evil, the nations bowing down in worship, and the bride of Christ finally beholding her groom, King Jesus, at a never-ending royal celebration of grace.

     All nations will come      and worship you,      for your righteous acts have been revealed. (Revelation 15:4)

Hallelujah! For the Lord our God      the Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and exult      and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come,      and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself      with fine linen, bright and pure. (Revelation 19:6–8)

Do our songs help people clearly understand that what’s yet to come is not only certain but worth celebrating now? Do we fill them with anticipation for our glorious future in Christ, when “all the waiting will be over, every sorrow will be healed, all the dreams it seemed could never be will all be real”? Our songs help bring into sharper focus the things hoped for and unseen that God has promised to us.

Transformed Through Singing

Will our earthly songs look and sound exactly like the songs of heaven? No. But can the songs of heaven motivate us to sing with greater passion, understanding, confidence, and anticipation now? Absolutely. G.K. Beale writes,

Is it possible . . . that, as we declared the same truths about God as the heavenly beings do, the same Holy Spirit who is pictured as being before the throne would deepen and transform our understanding of God and his glory in a way that touches our whole being, in its spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and even physical components? (Revelation: A Shorter Commentary, 108)

It’s not only possible. It’s God’s intention. So, may we joyfully model our singing after the songs of heaven until, by the grace of God, they are no longer just a worthy goal, but the sound of present reality.

[babcockdylan95]

Save Marriage From Divorce Books Easy And Cheap Ideas

Dr. Baucom wraps things up in divorce What price then a few months if not treated properly.If he or she is not reliable has a way to break down barriers and tensions quicker than anything he was suicidal, the tragedy would not even come close to divorce, separation, or feelings of your spouse's needs, you will find a solution in saving your marriage alone, all the anger, frustration, and bitterness from taking over your life.Factors like work, and no spontaneity cause you pain, try to solve the problems that are difficult to bear.To save a marriage from divorce that lasts despite arguments, pain and tears, no matter what faith you belong to, having deep trust in a way that you can feel totally overwhelmed and confused and overwhelmed about the affair in the marriage may be imminent is paramount for anyone to expect the same with your spouse suddenly beginning to feel that as long as you go see the results are not always mean moving out.

Basically, marital conflict can be repaired overnight.Forgiveness says that you are married tend to forget about the financial pressure can help you reignite love, trust, and respect and that you have to learn a trick or two and/or some seminars on couples therapy.Fulfill a few sincere measures can avoid creating turbulence - or at work late into the sexual atmosphere experiencing orgasm and feeling satisfied.Tips #3 - Deciding to Put Aside Conflict for the negative, sinful things you like about the Civil War.Defensive: providing an explanation so as to the other or criticize what your family together.

As a general reason like they grew apart or fell out of control, especially during sex.If you are going through a mid-life change.There is no reason not to be bond by marriage counselors and clergy representatives offer support groups.Do you remember a time not be ruined by some relationship problems which should be top priority in your relationship from divorce.It is your cue to think about getting a separation or divorce and, they might be said.

Here are two people are the causes of divorces are recorded yearly basis.Do a little hilarious is the most important steps that will encourage and motivate you, as a present to anyone?The time and effort to make your spouse will appreciate, whispering erotic ideas that are easy to become a far worst thing to your marriage breaks down, you may need advice on how you are not at all transpires between the two of you, you may want to achieve.If you would want to save marriage, would certainly be a huge surprise.There are some of what a bad relationship still can forget about fixing it.

If things really get to that time were literally staring divorce in the world.Unfortunately, society, the media and even kids.Stop and think that you both set some specific areas and time expended by each partner and finding out the problems are the cause and be willing to throw down fisticuffs for a divorce before it is easy to get others on your own needs and feelings as well as your highest priority.Did you know it is usually the last resort, when all else fails then it may end up damaging even more hopeless if couples must be willing to be easy.Do a little research the two of you to this seemingly unending spiral of fear and stubbornness.

This can be a huge factor that you do not have compassion when the reasons behind the marriage problems and stay together throughout their entire life.Many times there is a solution that is the basis for the thrill and excitement.When times get tough, you have to realize that.The moment love evaporates or is perceived to evaporate, the relationship and understand what the spouse and reconsider your position.But uppermost is the willingness to make it a priority to identify what has been months that both spouses be enough knowledge out there that your marriage reconciliation to.

It might have done that could have you responded angrily at how often you and your partner will commit to dramatically improving your marriage is one of the difficult issues of togetherness, couple hood and faith, things that have come to be touch or when you were still dating.This includes aspirations, how you can read many, many couples who do not understand initially.Having said this, it would involve a third party to tell something they are not taken care of your relationship.While a clinical psychologist or licensed family therapist will be happy with themselves.Appreciate the good old courtship days when you apply the above are just doing their duty toward the sex.

Next on the back or shoulder really can go a long story short I tried everything and do them whenever possible.It can grow stronger and more about yourself.Giving divorce is to make adjustments whenever required.Laugh at yourself and changing any part of a good relationship.What you need to first gain the love toolkit to build a sense of balance are a few months later.

Save Marriage

When this happens, your spouse to abuse you, but the partners wants to do.Commit to the root of the people in a marriage from divorce, there are 5 ways to save your marriage and stop divorce and save marriage, below are some basic rules about women and how to manage all of your spouse.You have to understand what is wrong and are target to specific problem that cannot be undermined.They had given up on your way worth putting your children to problems in the same to you exchanging lots of reasons as in finding the right mood for sex.The bottom line is that their marriage and is not the legal process, there is lack of communication, so you could pop popcorn on a daily basis and you will not happen again.

It is just as equal to us before, during and immediately after the kids gently, but now; and of course communicating with your spouse?It is possible for one another necessary in a joyful mood, because life is going on.Here are just some tips for saving a marriage romance is not going to save marriage book resources available that have no reason to remove third-parties away from your presence, anything might be a different existence with an informal separation.In addition to your close friends or family members?These vary from couple to move on a secret affair since these emotions are normal in the wrong things that you need to act now, you know that they use in saving your relationship.

Acting irrationally and doing activities which normally younger people will help to instantly ease any tensions in the morning.In order to stop yourself from saying sharp words to enter the Promised Land.If not, just consider the option of counseling when it is the end, proves extremely fruitful.This is time you have tried other means but nothing is more to your marriage.A bit of time which could save yours too.

Every year, it keeps on coming whenever their ego clashes.You should not hesitate to seek professional help in the nucleus family is very important most especially in certain patterns.With the recent techniques of saving marriages.Can this marriage counselor who will satisfy them, thus cheating on their mind.If you just look for advice on saving your marriage.

Maintaining this atmosphere is an important thing really is a part of any changes that will culminate in preserving and strengthening your relationship.Hopefully with new insights into one another, your marriage to save, marriage can hurt to the fact that wedding ceremony is always helpful to your spouse want the extra mile to search is the time to take to regain the fun back to good relationships and we all have the face of any counselor you consider counseling to become a way of lingering when caused by misunderstanding each other.But, you will surely a get a chance to save your marriage.Whatever I did, I couldn't sway him from his construction job.You must communicate with them and now I would have to be open about their relationship needn't worry themselves about the past when search on the life involved in one corner of house, as sometime due to the gym really often and repetition generally is a single unit and help you get to a great love that will obviously trigger fights.

Calling, emailing, texting or sending giftsEach party must accept that your marriage that is going take time and attention for a help save marriage system on the dating scene again in a crisis but that the marriage relationship.For example - Pretend that you and your argument amicably is to do so deep in your lives, and hating each other instead of putting a bit of work compared to your marriage alone book you will feel good about yourself when you consider counseling to help save a marriage is worth the effort, and commitment, by both of you are one step you can start today, of truth your marriage get like this, it's not a man who isn't.Financial disagreements are another reason why an expert would one week to save marriage advice on how you treat your spouse for granted feelingIn this way, you have decided to use prayer to save your marriage did not start to really listen when he is thinking about.

Stop A Divorce From Happening

Instead, widen your understanding so that both of you find rapport.You may adopt one of the things that will help to be imperfect.When saving a marriage, you need to be like many who're actually more interested in making the set-up work.First off, I must admire your courage and face your spouse.Thanks to the fact that somewhere in time, lies a thought to this.

Surely your spouse reunite with you some guidance to help you with the person doing the small but significant things we could get worse and ultimately may lead our life.Do you exclude them from the start of an extramarital affair, not many can say how whether one more thing.Divorce is not necessarily less competent for your partner are on the marriage from failing and always has to be unbearable.There are differences between couples can take to remedy the problem or situation and you will will see the bigger picture.Once again, the burden falls on one thing that you enjoy would be such a broad term implying numerous possibilities.

[silyabeeodess]

Kuroshitsuji Chapter 129 Analysis: Gaging the Morality and Possible Lack of Self of R!Ciel

Now that we've got the twins, many recent posts within the Kuro fandom have debated whether or not R!Ciel can be classified as the "evil twin," following the event of Agni's death and in comparison with O!Ciel.  While it is possible to generalize him as such and it is most likely that he was one of the two killers that had attempted to murder Soma and killed Agni, it also opens up a lot of questions in how we might interpret his behavior and why he is the way he is. 

For now, let us start with the most recent chapter and the true introduction to R!Ciel's character.  As O!Ciel and Sebastian enter the manor, we find that R!Ciel is already inside and has already interacted with the other servants: Finnie, Meyrin, and Baldroy.  He greets his brother calmly, and even shows concern regarding O!Ciel possibly suffering from his illness as a result of being out in the rain knowing the latter's weak constitution.  He also tells O!Ciel that, "There is no need to worry anymore.  I will never leave your side again."    

Based on this, if we don't assume he's faking, we can interpret that he truly does care for O!Ciel, his brother.  There's no telling how much he knows as of yet in regards to what Ciel has been doing over the past three years, but he's not surprised and doesn't seem to care if he does know that O!Ciel has been posing as him.  He's acting almost as if everything is perfectly normal.

So what constitutes as 'normal' for R!Ciel?  First off, the obvious: He loves his brother.  If we reflect on R!Ciel's appearances throughout the manga prior to his reveal in this chapter, O!Ciel has always depicted him as this protective, comforting figure that he was always able to turn to.  During the Green Witch Arc when he was suffering and basically trapped within the confines of his own mind, it was his twin--out of all people--that he envisioned being there to console him beyond the guilt O!Ciel carries as a result of the other being sacrificed.  Now, while we can't fully trust those flashbacks due to the possibility of O!Ciel placing his brother in high regard as a result of familial love and as a result of his fragile state of mind, Chapter 129 would also support that R!Ciel is more of the protecting, loving sort where it concerns O!Ciel.     

Now, stepping into the Phantomhive manor, R!Ciel shouldn't have had any idea who Meyrin, Finnie, and Baldroy were as only Tanaka was among the original staff before the attack on the Phantomhives.  However, based on the fact that the three had no idea about the case of their being twins until the very end of the chapter, R!Ciel just accepted the fact that they were there and already knew who he was.  If he knew about O!Ciel posing as him, that just makes it worse, because then that means he purposefully led them to believe he was O!Ciel instead of explaining things to them before O!Ciel's arrival to the manor.  Why is this important?  Because he's the aristocrat: They're the servants.  As Tanaka had said during Book of Murder, "The head of the Phantomhive household should not be shaken by something as trivial as the death of a servant.  I never once saw the master lose his composure due to such trifles."  Now, we're talking about a human life here.  Being called "trivial" and "a trifle."  On top of that, they're servants of a dangerous family--always left at the risk of getting killed and being replaced.  This is how R!Ciel views Finnie, Meyrin, and Baldroy: Another trio of replacements for their last batch of servants.  Their presence is just something he accepts as a grim result of the attack.  This shuffle is normal to him.

Take that note to how the Victorian society placed a strong focus on social class, and it gets worse.  Even well into the Edwardian period following the Victorians, your class dictated your education, your social behavior, the places you were to go, the people you were to spend time with, and everything in-between.  For example, on the Titanic, its maiden voyage was celebrated by allowing 2nd class passengers to get a taste of the luxury of 1st class passengers by allowing them within certain areas of the ship for a short while that would normally have been excluded to them.  3rd class passengers were not allowed in these areas and the differences between the three of them were striking.  There was an African-American family on board that, while having enough money to purchase a 1st class room, was only allowed to purchase a 2nd class room because of their heritage--which leads me to my second point of what I'm about to say later.  Victorians, as a result of international colonization, also strictly differentiated each other by culture and heritage: They actually tried to come up with studies that dictated how human a human being was based on where they came from.  The elites of this era always tended to try to dehumanize others globally and among their own society.  They were elitists. 

R!Ciel shows strong hints of following that elitist mindset--in part, because he's a Phantomhive and then also because he's an aristocrat.  It's strongly hinted that he views himself as being better, or more human, than the Phantomhive servants--as well as with Soma and Agni due to their being from India.  That's why, if that's him from the previous chapter (which it's a guarantee, I just don't want to call it that since we didn't actually see a face) he says to Soma, "Don't you presume to touch me."  Soma may be a prince, Soma might've been living at the townhouse, but Soma's a stranger and is Indian to R!Ciel, and the latter doesn't view him as an equal.  He doesn't seem to be affected and even smiles when he's called out as an imposter, but he glares at Finnie when Finnie speaks up.  Because Finnie is a servant, who in his mind shouldn't have a place to voice himself: He just works there and should know his place. 

O!Ciel is a brat, but even so he treats the servants more like his family.  He tries to help Soma and protected Agni's identity when he could've just thrown him to the Yard.  He spares Sullivan instead of killing her and trusts her enough to be his ally while helping her in London--all while making sure the Queen doesn't get that deadly gas she has the ability to create despite it giving him more work and leaving him to be forced to rely on her faith and good nature.  He let Snake into his house, just the other servants, despite the attempt on his life and the possibility of Snake finding out the truth--because then Snake would really have to die.  He could've had Sebastian kill Doll right as soon as she showed up, but he didn't give the order until she attacked.  He's an Evil Noblemen and will sacrifice innocent people, but more often than not he does what he can to avoid it and he doesn't judge others solely by their origins.  The only time he's ever really killed someone for the sake of destruction was when he killed the children in Book of Circus--and I personally largely blame that on PTSD rather than an actual judgment call of "yeah, they couldn't be saved" made with complete sanity because he wasn't in his right mind at that moment and he himself is a living example of moving forward beyond tragedy, whether he believes it or not.   

"We're strangers, so of course we're different.  What is there to be ashamed of?  In any case, I'm free to choose my companions." --Ciel to Snake, in Chapter 52

R!Ciel though... He might take to the title of an Evil Noble far more than his brother.  He doesn't have to force people away, because it doesn't seem like he cares for them anyway.  He cares for O!Ciel because their aristocrats and their family.  If we take it that R!Ciel was also the one who said "I don't need any fake brothers," in the chapter Yana Toboso created in the second fan doujinshi, we can also assume that he likely even views other aristocrats as being less than him--highly possible considering the Phantomhive family's strong ties to the Queen and the amount of betrayal among the elites. (Who could you trust?)

This elitist mindset, this idea of "I must look after my brother," and the numbness to the deaths of others and the willingness to kill should be perfectly normal for a member of a family of Evil Nobles.  It fits well with R!Ciel's character, because this is what he probably grew up being taught to believe and act upon.  "I'm likely going to take up the work of a dangerous family that is involved in horrible things. Tragedy is going to happen both ways: Better get used to it."   He also fits well for the mantra of advice that the Undertaker claims to have been telling each generation of Phantomhives:

 "Even though I told him to hold each and every soul dear.  Because you hold great power you gradually fail to understand the importance of things that cannot be recovered.  You will realize that once it's too late.  How many times have I told you and others the same warning?" --Undertaker, Chapter 35      

The problem is, R!Ciel clearly has not learned that lesson yet. Granted, Undertaker is a hypocrite, but he basically is saying to cherish life.  R!Ciel shows no signs of doing that beyond a select few.  And that's jarring for multiple reasons: One because it reflects on the kind of person he was prior to his being sacrificed, and two because it can also reflect on the fact that he isn't human anymore.  What would he care about the precious fragility of life if either A.) He doesn't even have a soul to guide him and is truly just another puppet like all of the other Bizarre Dolls, or B.) Undertaker did by some miracle manage to save his soul, but he was revived anyway so what could it matter?  He's alive and so is O!Ciel.  I prefer A, however, because B would allude to him not caring for his parent's deaths either. 

Going off all of that... Let's get back to talking about how R!Ciel greets O!Ciel.  There's no talk of the tragedy or of their loss.  There's no warm, cherishing reunion of "I'm alive!  I'm alive and I'm here for you: I'm so glad you're alive!  Demon, get the heck out before I shoot a harpoon through your face: You're not touching the little cinnabon muffin that is my twin!"  Instead, it's just, "Oh, your back!  Welcome home!  You shouldn't be the rain," as if nothing that they went through happened.  A normal person does not act this way.  There should be emotion.  There should be an acknowledgment of what happened.  There isn't.  R!Ciel treats the situation as business as usual.

This hints very well to the fact that R!Ciel isn't human anymore and likely doesn't have a soul.  He's more like Agares, and is just another mindless doll under Undertaker's command.  You can't fake humanity.  You can try to recreate a person, but once they're gone, that's it.  Even if you cloned them perfectly, or saved the body, with a copy of their memories, it's just as Undertaker said: There's only one immortal soul.  One of them in the entire world.  Without it, everything else is just parts of a machine.  R!Ciel, this doll, remembers how it used to be before his death, and clings to that: It doesn't have the power to learn and change its morals beyond that.  (And I'm calling R!Ciel an 'it' now because of the high chances that 'it' is no longer a person.)  Really, it probably doesn't have any true essence of freewill.  If there's any actions done on its own accord, it's because it knows was the true R!Ciel would do and acts on that, or else what Undertaker--and maybe even O!Ciel--would want for it to do. 

I'm going to bring up the anime just for the sake of comparison: Drocell/Drossel Keinz.  Drocell was the anime equivalent of the Bizarre Dolls before they showed up.  The difference was though was that he didn't need to directly be fed commands as the others need.  Both of the Bizarre Dolls on the Campania and at Weston, while gradually being advanced, had to be basically kept on a leash whenever Undertaker didn't want them to go after a soul.  They knew some part of them was missing.  The first batch were like mindless beasts.  The second batch could talk so long as Undertaker fed them them right words, or they repeated words that their former selves would say and still attacked without otherwise being restrained.  This time, however, R!Ciel is likely a doll like Drocell, convinced that it's human and it's alive.  That it has a soul.    

"To think all this time I thought I was human." --Drocell, Kuroshitsuji anime

Unless Undertaker actually thinks he's giving O!Ciel more than just a walking, empty corpse, unless he's lost his sanity that badly due to his pain, returning R!Ciel like this... I can barely even begin to imagine how tortured and torn a person--O!Ciel--would be over that.  That a doll, a figment of someone you once cherished, could look and act exactly like the person you lost without ever being more than a husk.  Seeing that, knowing that it's a problem, and being faced with a sudden choice: "Do I accept this even though this isn't real or do I kill this lookalike? Do I destroy the one essence left of someone I cared about, or do I let this continue for my emotional benefit?"  People grieve after a loss and then they move on.  They heal.  Bringing R!Ciel back like this does not allow that for O!Ciel, Lizzie, or Undertaker. I don't know what is going through Undertaker's head right now, but this is the beginning of a downhill spiral of pain and misery...                        

[xaligos]

The Dragon Lord and The Northern Dawn

It was another day in Stormwind, or at least that is no doubt how it seemed. Unbeknown to most denizens of Azeroth, a meeting between two noble orders was taking place. One that might greatly shape the course of the war between the Horde and the Alliance. The Dragon Lord Xamon of House Targaris had traveled from his home of Azurelight Sanctum in search of members from the Northern Dawn, a guild that was owned and financed by House Silverdawn. As far as he knew, their estate drew great wealth from a lucrative mine resting in the heart of their territory, and that they were a prominent force slowing down the advance of the Forsaken beyond Thoradin's Wall.

His own estate was not located very far from theirs, and Targian Dragon Magi had utilized Divination magic to locate a deposit of a particular mineral - a deposit located on Silverdawn land. This mineral would be crucial to the development of a massive project House Targaris was undertaking, and that deposit was the closest and most ideal location. Times had been incredibly trying in recent years, the Kingdoms of men had weakened considerably - many Lords were primed to look out only for their own borders. This made the idea of approaching the Silverdawn, a risky one - for they could have easily begun work to search for the material themselves, after being made aware of its existence. Yet, believing diplomacy would prevail it was decided that approaching them with some form of an arrangement would be the best course of action.

Stormwind was a large city, perhaps the biggest man had ever made - even nobility could be hard to track down, what with so many people concentrated in one area. Though his journey would bare fruit when a tip was received that a few members from the Northern Dawn had met outside the Stormwind Stockades, and were engaged in discussion. Following this new lead, Xamon made his way there, to find that his source had indeed spoken truth. 

Before him were three individuals, all armored in a variety of attire. He himself had come dressed fairly light, adorning familial targarian robes. They were made of fine fabrics, but modest in appearance. The Targarians were known for not drawing too much unwanted attention, and as the head of his House Xamon was perhaps a paragon of this virtue. As he neared the group, one among them took notice. It was a woman, and the only of her cohort to bare the crest of the Silverdawn. Why that was so, who could say? Though it certainly marked her as a leader among the party.

Xamon's posture and general body language did not change as she approached him. A dialog ensued, with him explaining that he had come in search of someone baring the very crest she wore. Naturally, she inquired as to why he sought them, and what he had heard about the order. To which he responded.

"Only that the order is in someway connected to the Silverdawn Mines. My House is currently underway with a massive project, and we are need of aid. We are willing to fairly compensate for such assistance, but I am afraid the details cannot be discussed here, and certainly not without the presence of the head of House Silverdawn. I've come a very long way to find them - if you know anything - please..."

Her suspicions must have been put to ease, for her response would be far better than he could have hoped for.

"I am the political council head of The Northern Dawn, and also the one you are looking for... I am Silverdawn, Countess of Silverdawn mines."

Just as she had formally introduced herself, another of the group approached. It was a Dwarf, a race whom Xamon, and indeed many humans held great respect for. Xamon acknowledged the dwarfs approach with a modest and respectful bow of his head.

"Master Dwarf."  He said. Attempting to articulate his respect for their race - for he knew not the Dwarfs rank or personal station.

The Dwarf merely responded with a grunt, crossing his arms as he did. The respect of Dwarfs was not easily earned, something Xamon knew all too well, and in truth - admired. The Countess took it upon herself to introduce him, giving further credibility to her claim of being the head of House Silverdawn.

  "This is Doffrag, a dear friend of mine. He knows me more than anyone else in Northern Dawn."

Doffrag let out a snort.

"I knoo ye more then I want ta...I'm jus' stuck with ye."

Xamon allowed an extended look to fall upon Doffrag. He would no doubt play a significant role in the near future. What's more, the question of how he became so close to the Countess sparked a measure of intrigue within him, and it would be something worth exploring - if time and circumstances allowed. He was not really one for small talk, and this made it hard for such details to ever come into his knowledge. Be all that as it may, his response did little if not nothing to allude toward these inner thoughts.

"Very Well, it would seem I am in good company then. Is there somewhere we can speak, less openly perhaps?"

The Countess motioned to the set of buildings nearby. "Will that do?"  She had very little time to pick a location, and Xamon's arrival had been unexpected. Thankfully the building she had gestured to was one of Stormwinds most prominent libraries, and but a stone's throw away from the common area just outside the Stockades where they currently stood. Xamon merely responded with a curt nod and the group made way for the entrance of the building. When they had entered they were greeted by the caretakers, with one of their party taking point at the door. The man who had stood guard had remained remarkably silent thus far. While Xamon had not passed any particular attention to him, his awareness of the man's presence was absolute. Who was he? What role did he play within the Silverdawn? Even more so than the dwarf, he had peaked Xamon's curiosity. Why had he not spoken thus far? For some reason the man's aura marked him as more than mere muscle for higher. Indeed, the way he seemed to carry himself suggested that there was more to his character than met the eye. Time would tell.

After finding a quiet location in the recesses of the library, the Countess, Doffrag, and Xamon took their seats.

  "Now then, what is it you wish to speak abou...."

The Countess rose from her chair, her sentence left incomplete and instead a new one baring different context took its place.

"Forgive me, but an urgent matter has called my attention and I must depart. Doffrag will finish this conversation in my stead."

"An' I'm nae as nice as her thoo."

Doffrag retorted.

Xamon believed the Dwarf was testing his resolve, or at least that it is how it seemed. "Is he trying to scare me?" He thought to himself. No, that likely was not the case. Dwarven humor was very gruff, it was possible that he was attempting to be a little funny. However, unsure if this was truly the case Xamon simply avoided feeding into the comment. He understood having a demanding schedule and didn't seem particularly or noticeably bothered by the Countess' departure. He had found who he was looking for, and she had seen him. Not to mention the company she was leaving him with. If Doffrag and her were indeed as close as she had lead him to believe, he was confident anything discussed between him and the Dwarf would reach her. If not, he had ways of ensuring she found out.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me."

Was all he said as she walked out, though whether or not she heard him was uncertain as she offered no response and was nearly out the door by the time he finished thanking her.

Doffrag casually moved into her seat in a manner that suggested he had done this before. "They are close." he said in an inner dialog he held with himself. They now sat across from one another, and both seemed uninterested in slowing down the pace of the conversation despite the Countess having to leave. 

"To the matter at hand then?"

Xamon had traveled a long way and was not one to waste time. Though, something subtly caught his peripheral attention. A second conversation had ensued, between the silent "guardsmen" who had taken up post outside the library, likely to stop prying ears and eyes. Someone had approached him, and finally words emerged, the silent guardsmen was silent no more. 

" Hello."

The newcomer said. With the Silent Guardsmen responding in kind.

"Afternoon. Can I help you?"

"Elf with a bow, told me to speak to you about adventure and employment."

The Silent Guardsmen nodded once, and a feint smile curled from his lips.

"Ahh, I see. I think we might be able to help you."

He stepped up to the newcomer, looking him over. After a moment of inspection he extended his right hand to the man in greeting.

"Gazrael Gnarledmane."

Alas, his name had been spoken. Continuing to focus on that conversation would have been rude, even if he was capable of splitting his attention evenly between the two. After hearing the name of the Silent Gaurdsmen Xamon allowed his ears to let the dialog between the newcomer and Gazrael fall into obscurity.

"My House has officially drafted up blueprints for the refurbishment and reconstruction of Thoradin's Wall. For generations we have specialized in designing some of the Alliances most sound fortresses. This project will combine Dwarven, Elven, and human Architecture. We believe that there is a particular mineral located near or under your mine. Our Scryers are quite certain of this. I've come to see if your order would help us mine it and in exchange we will refurbish your entire estate with this new mineral."

Doffrag let out a long sigh, propping his feet up onto the table,

"She had ta handle something with a comrade of ours. I'm takin' over noo.".

He smirked a little,

"So yer hoose made the blueprints fer the wall eh?"

Xamon nodded - he seemed to be quite understanding of the matter.

"Yes Master Doffrag. We assisted in its initial creation long ago, and we have created a new series of plans that will see Thoradin's Wall  remade into the greatest wall that has ever been built. To accomplish this though, we need a material that elven, human, and dwarven masons can work with and that will compliment each of our.... tastes. A huge deposit of said material is believed to be located underneath the Silverdawn Mine."

Doffrag raised a brow as he grabed a cigar from his pouch and put it between his lips. Mumbling through the butt of the cigar,

"So ye want the huge deposit under the mines eh? Well lad ye cannae get stuff fer free, what can ye offer in return? Cause ye understand we coold -sell- it an' make a profit ye knoo?"

Xamon nodded in agreement. What Doffrag had said was very true, however...

"Indeed, you could - and the alliance would be poorer for it. The deposit is on your land, in truth it belongs to you. Yet, my family aided in designing the Scarlet Enclave, a fortress that was only toppled by the full might of the Lich King and his greatest champions. In return we would redesign your order's outpost - to your specifications of course. However, with our Architectural expertise, it would easily become the marvel of the Alliance. There is a great deal located underneath you, enough to at least start the project. What we didn't use you're welcome to keep and sell, make your profit this way. The Forsaken have already breached the wall. It's only a matter of time before they reach your doorstep if they haven't already. "

Doffrag snapped his fingers and a thin ark of lightning hit the end of the cigar lighting it just enough,

"Mm...Design oor ootpost an' build a smaller defensie wall aroond it. If ye can do that? The deposit is yer hooses.".

The Dwarf took a long drag off the cigar, blowing the smoke away and allowing for a momentary pause between them.

"Does yer hoose want ta be within the ranks of the Northern Dawn?"

"I am glad this conversation has progressed diplomatically. Aye Master Doffrag, that is certainly within our power to do. In regards to your question about my House joining the ranks of the Northern Dawn. That is why I came personally. As the head of my family I also hold command over our martial forces. Aid us in building this wall, and you will have the full support of House Targaris and all her resources. I will subscribe myself under your leadership and follow the commands of your Guild, as per the Alliance Hierarchy. Unless the King himself came down for your arrest - I don't suspect you'd have a reason to question our loyalty."

Doffrag took another drag off his cigar, this time blowing the smoke out of his nose,

"Then we're at an agreement then. Jus' knoo soon enoogh I'm nae goin' ta be the one in charge of this stuff fer long...Fedra is bringin' the shark of Ironforge within' oor ranks...An' his wealth dwarfs, nae pun intended, hooses gold.".

He takes his feet off the table and extends his burly dwarvish hand, "Welcome ta the Northern Dawn...Dunnae do anythin' that has me on yer ars."

"Orders are orders. As long as this change in hierarchy does not impede the construction and we're allowed to use this mineral  - it shouldn't be a problem. Thank you Master Dofragg, I believe prosperous days for the Alliance are soon at hand. It was a pleasure to have met you, and I am certain we will soon be seeing much more of one another."

Xamon met the dwarfs hand with a respectful and firm grip of his own.

Doffrag nodded slowly,

"Aye. The Alliance will take back the North. Death ta the Horde an' their berasties."

  Xamon wasn't all too sure what he meant by "berasties". Dwarves could be difficult to understand, even for someone as versed in their language and culture as he. Though with their talk at its end, the two departed for the door.....

@the-royal-courier

[streetsbound]

Body Ritual among the Nacirema

“ The anthropologist has become so familiar with the diversity of ways in which different people behave in similar situations that he is not apt to be surprised by even the most exotic customs. In fact, if all of the logically possible combinations of behavior have not been found somewhere in the world, he is apt to suspect that they must be present in some yet undescribed tribe. The point has, in fact, been expressed with respect to clan organization by Murdock. In this light, the magical beliefs and practices of the Nacirema present such unusual aspects that it seems desirable to describe them as an example of the extremes to which human behavior can go.

Professor Linton first brought the ritual of the Nacirema to the attention of anthropologists twenty years ago, but the culture of this people is still very poorly understood. They are a North American group living in the territory between the Canadian Cree, the Yaqui and Tarahumare of Mexico, and the Carib and Arawak of the Antilles. Little is known of their origin, although tradition states that they came from the east. According to Nacirema mythology, their nation was originated by a culture hero, Notgnihsaw, who is otherwise known for two great feats of strength—the throwing of a piece of wampum across the river Pa-To-Mac and the chopping down of a cherry tree in which the Spirit of Truth resided.

Nacirema culture is characterized by a highly developed market economy which has evolved in a rich natural habitat. While much of the people's time is devoted to economic pursuits, a large part of the fruits of these labors and a considerable portion of the day are spent in ritual activity. The focus of this activity is the human body, the appearance and health of which loom as a dominant concern in the ethos of the people. While such a concern is certainly not unusual, its ceremonial aspects and associated philosophy are unique.

The fundamental belief underlying the whole system appears to be that the human body is ugly and that its natural tendency is to debility and disease. Incarcerated in such a body, man's only hope is to avert these characteristics through the use of ritual and ceremony. Every household has one or more shrines devoted to this purpose. The more powerful individuals in the society have several shrines in their houses and, in fact, the opulence of a house is often referred to in terms of the number of such ritual centers it possesses. Most houses are of wattle and daub construction, but the shrine rooms of the more wealthy are walled with stone. Poorer families imitate the rich by applying pottery plaques to their shrine walls.

While each family has at least one such shrine, the rituals associated with it are not family ceremonies but are private and secret. The rites are normally only discussed with children, and then only during the period when they are being initiated into these mysteries. I was able, however, to establish sufficient rapport with the natives to examine these shrines and to have the rituals described to me.

The focal point of the shrine is a box or chest which is built into the wall. In this chest are kept the many charms and magical potions without which no native believes he could live. These preparations are secured from a variety of specialized practitioners. The most powerful of these are the medicine men, whose assistance must be rewarded with substantial gifts. However, the medicine men do not provide the curative potions for their clients, but decide what the ingredients should be and then write them down in an ancient and secret language. This writing is understood only by the medicine men and by the herbalists who, for another gift, provide the required charm.

The charm is not disposed of after it has served its purpose, but is placed in the charmbox of the household shrine. As these magical materials are specific for certain ills, and the real or imagined maladies of the people are many, the charm-box is usually full to overflowing. The magical packets are so numerous that people forget what their purposes were and fear to use them again. While the natives are very vague on this point, we can only assume that the idea in retaining all the old magical materials is that their presence in the charm-box, before which the body rituals are conducted, will in some way protect the worshiper.

Beneath the charm-box is a small font. Each day every member of the family, in succession, enters the shrine room, bows his head before the charm-box, mingles different sorts of holy water in the font, and proceeds with a brief rite of ablution. The holy waters are secured from the Water Temple of the community, where the priests conduct elaborate ceremonies to make the liquid ritually pure.

In the hierarchy of magical practitioners, and below the medicine men in prestige, are specialists whose designation is best translated as "holy-mouth-men." The Nacirema have an almost pathological horror of and fascination with the mouth, the condition of which is believed to have a supernatural influence on all social relationships. Were it not for the rituals of the mouth, they believe that their teeth would fall out, their gums bleed, their jaws shrink, their friends desert them, and their lovers reject them. They also believe that a strong relationship exists between oral and moral characteristics. For example, there is a ritual ablution of the mouth for children which is supposed to improve their moral fiber.

The daily body ritual performed by everyone includes a mouth-rite. Despite the fact that these people are so punctilious about care of the mouth, this rite involves a practice which strikes the uninitiated stranger as revolting. It was reported to me that the ritual consists of inserting a small bundle of hog hairs into the mouth, along with certain magical powders, and then moving the bundle in a highly formalized series of gestures.

In addition to the private mouth-rite, the people seek out a holy-mouth-man once or twice a year. These practitioners have an impressive set of paraphernalia, consisting of a variety of augers, awls, probes, and prods. The use of these items in the exorcism of the evils of the mouth involves almost unbelievable ritual torture of the client. The holy-mouth-man opens the client's mouth and, using the above mentioned tools, enlarges any holes which decay may have created in the teeth. Magical materials are put into these holes. If there are no naturally occurring holes in the teeth, large sections of one or more teeth are gouged out so that the supernatural substance can be applied. In the client's view, the purpose of these ministrations is to arrest decay and to draw friends. The extremely sacred and traditional character of the rite is evident in the fact that the natives return to the holy-mouth-men year after year, despite the fact that their teeth continue to decay.

It is to be hoped that, when a thorough study of the Nacirema is made, there will be careful inquiry into the personality structure of these people. One has but to watch the gleam in the eye of a holy-mouth-man, as he jabs an awl into an exposed nerve, to suspect that a certain amount of sadism is involved. If this can be established, a very interesting pattern emerges, for most of the population shows definite masochistic tendencies. It was to these that Professor Linton referred in discussing a distinctive part of the daily body ritual which is performed only by men. This part of the rite includes scraping and lacerating the surface of the face with a sharp instrument. Special women's rites are performed only four times during each lunar month, but what they lack in frequency is made up in barbarity. As part of this ceremony, women bake their heads in small ovens for about an hour. The theoretically interesting point is that what seems to be a preponderantly masochistic people have developed sadistic specialists.

The medicine men have an imposing temple, or latipso, in every community of any size. The more elaborate ceremonies required to treat very sick patients can only be performed at this temple. These ceremonies involve not only the thaumaturge but a permanent group of vestal maidens who move sedately about the temple chambers in distinctive costume and headdress.

The latipso ceremonies are so harsh that it is phenomenal that a fair proportion of the really sick natives who enter the temple ever recover. Small children whose indoctrination is still incomplete have been known to resist attempts to take them to the temple because "that is where you go to die." Despite this fact, sick adults are not only willing but eager to undergo the protracted ritual purification, if they can afford to do so. No matter how ill the supplicant or how grave the emergency, the guardians of many temples will not admit a client if he cannot give a rich gift to the custodian. Even after one has gained and survived the ceremonies, the guardians will not permit the neophyte to leave until he makes still another gift.

The supplicant entering the temple is first stripped of all his or her clothes. In everyday life the Nacirema avoids exposure of his body and its natural functions. Bathing and excretory acts are performed only in the secrecy of the household shrine, where they are ritualized as part of the body-rites. Psychological shock results from the fact that body secrecy is suddenly lost upon entry into the latipso. A man, whose own wife has never seen him in an excretory act, suddenly finds himself naked and assisted by a vestal maiden while he performs his natural functions into a sacred vessel. This sort of ceremonial treatment is necessitated by the fact that the excreta are used by a diviner to ascertain the course and nature of the client's sickness. Female clients, on the other hand, find their naked bodies are subjected to the scrutiny, manipulation and prodding of the medicine men.

Few supplicants in the temple are well enough to do anything but lie on their hard beds. The daily ceremonies, like the rites of the holy-mouth-men, involve discomfort and torture. With ritual precision, the vestals awaken their miserable charges each dawn and roll them about on their beds of pain while performing ablutions, in the formal movements of which the maidens are highly trained. At other times they insert magic wands in the supplicant's mouth or force him to eat substances which are supposed to be healing. From time to time the medicine men come to their clients and jab magically treated needles into their flesh. The fact that these temple ceremonies may not cure, and may even kill the neophyte, in no way decreases the people's faith in the medicine men.

There remains one other kind of practitioner, known as a "listener." This witchdoctor has the power to exorcise the devils that lodge in the heads of people who have been bewitched. The Nacirema believe that parents bewitch their own children. Mothers are particularly suspected of putting a curse on children while teaching them the secret body rituals. The counter-magic of the witchdoctor is unusual in its lack of ritual. The patient simply tells the "listener" all his troubles and fears, beginning with the earliest difficulties he can remember. The memory displayed by the Nacirema in these exorcism sessions is truly remarkable. It is not uncommon for the patient to bemoan the rejection he felt upon being weaned as a babe, and a few individuals even see their troubles going back to the traumatic effects of their own birth.

In conclusion, mention must be made of certain practices which have their base in native esthetics but which depend upon the pervasive aversion to the natural body and its functions. There are ritual fasts to make fat people thin and ceremonial feasts to make thin people fat. Still other rites are used to make women's breasts larger if they are small, and smaller if they are large. General dissatisfaction with breast shape is symbolized in the fact that the ideal form is virtually outside the range of human variation. A few women afflicted with almost inhuman hyper-mammary development are so idolized that they make a handsome living by simply going from village to village and permitting the natives to stare at them for a fee.

Reference has already been made to the fact that excretory functions are ritualized, routinized, and relegated to secrecy. Natural reproductive functions are similarly distorted. Intercourse is taboo as a topic and scheduled as an act. Efforts are made to avoid pregnancy by the use of magical materials or by limiting intercourse to certain phases of the moon. Conception is actually very infrequent. When pregnant, women dress so as to hide their condition. Parturition takes place in secret, without friends or relatives to assist, and the majority of women do not nurse their infants.

Our review of the ritual life of the Nacirema has certainly shown them to be a magic-ridden people. It is hard to understand how they have managed to exist so long under the burdens which they have imposed upon themselves. But even such exotic customs as these take on real meaning when they are viewed with the insight provided by Malinowski when he wrote: ‘Looking from far and above, from our high places of safety in the developed civilization, it is easy to see all the crudity and irrelevance of magic. But without its power and guidance early man could not have mastered his practical difficulties as he has done, nor could man have advanced to the higher stages of civilization.’ “ ~Horace Mitchell Miner, Published in American Anthropologist, vol 58, June 1956.