#The Pursuit of Holiness

[martyschoenleber]

The Relationship Between Farming and Holiness

Analogies are helpful and here is a good one from a godly leader who now lives with Jesus. Jerry Bridges was a long time staff member with the Navigators, a discipleship ministry that started in the military but has expanded in to worldwide discipling movement.   Wise words from Jerry Bridges and his classic book The Pursuit of Holiness. Here’s the analogy that Bridges uses: “Farming is a joint…

[starangela]

her hair is hairing, chanse v amanda is soo good

[illustratus]

Parsifal (Parzival) by Martin Wiegand

[aquamonstra]

Me watching DS9: So..... Is Miles going to kiss this lizard man or what??

[everlastiingiimmortals]

@reversescale asked: (What would it be like if Ratio got the acknowledgment of Nous? Would anything change? Furthermore, what if he was invited into the Genius Society? Would he accept it?)

Sleepless nights had grown more frequent as of late, with the addition of the Divergent Universe to Ratio's workload. None of it had been obligatory, none of it at all. But, not for the first time, he finds himself strung up in a strange sense of restlessness -- almost anxiousness -- as he parses through the compendium he compiled, again and again and again.

...Why?

Not even Screwllum, with his far superior ability to take in information on a page, would read through this entire document, and he'd told the Trailblazer this himself. Realistically, the likelihood of even half of the data within making it into the Divergent Universe was slim at best. It would take an entire Amber Era to even get through all of the pages. So why did he?

...Not for the first time, the thought crosses Ratio's mind about how disproportionate his visible effort is to his declaration of involvement. Yet how could he settle for anything less? Screwllum, surely, knew he would receive more than he asked for by enlisting Ratio's aid. The doctor was never known for half-assing anything, after all. And still, it was not enough. He hadn't done enough, compiled enough, found enough of the evidence Screwllum he needed.

It is not his project.

He sighs, rubs his temple (his headaches seem as though they're growing worse with the sheer amount of data he'd been sifting through lately), and rolls the tension out of his neck as best he can. There is no need to get worked up. Thankfully, the sky is clear tonight; he'd already taken a bath recently, so laying on the grass to trace the constellations would surely be enough to quell his mind.

But the red glow outside indicates otherwise. A glance upwards is more than enough to rob all the breath from Ratio's lungs, leaving him choking on nothing. All at once his head expands, compressed by the confines of his skull -- it shrinks to nothingness then expands once more, splitting and breaking down his skull to encompass the planet, the galaxy, reaching to the outer stretches of the universe -- who he was and what he is no longer matter, Veritas is as much an ephemeral, minute, pitifully small concept as Andreas -- he knows so much. He knows too much. And as that thought concludes a new one is born, a new path stretching outwards -- everything and every life that will ever come to be and has come to pass is known to him, but not by him, far more than he could ever fill a book with, or ten books, or a thousand books -- lives and people and worlds flash past his mind, too fast for him to take hold of and look at any single one -- there is simply no storage system in the known universe large enough to record it all -- he is ignorant in the wake of the mind and might of THEM, and he feels so strangely detached from the muted despair he vaguely acknowledges is his own and suddenly he is slingshotted back into his body, gasping for air and gripping onto his windowsill so hard his knuckles turn white.

"You..." Andreas' knees threaten to buckle as another pulse of pain lances through his skull. Something hard and cold clinks against his palm as he clenches his hands into fists. A divine, shimmering key lays nestled between his fingers, only tangible in the barest definition of the word. Should he look away, should he let it wane from his mind, the key would fade, too. It takes all his effort to keep his hold on it. "You," he repeats, mouth dry, mustering up all the willpower and strength he has to glare at the impossibly massive entity that had manifested in the sky. He is shaking, trembling from head to foot. "After all these years... after all this time, now you show yourself?" He can feel the absence of that sudden pressure of knowledge like an abyss separating his brain from his head, and his heart beats too quickly, too loudly, too softly in his own ears. Every second is a fight to remain in his own mind, and it feels like mockery of his own insignifance, or perhaps a test -- but the Aeon does not respond to him. THEY do not do anything but simply wait, and stare back at him.

It becomes unbearable to hold Nous' gaze, and as Andreas looks away the key slips from his grasp. He realizes, then, Nous did not come for the boy who spent his nights looking to the sky. Nous came for Veritas. THEY will only respond to Veritas.

"Keep your key," Andreas spits around a closing throat. Veritas will not speak. "I want nothing to do with your Temple. I have no place with the likes of Kuwabara or the Lord of Silence."

Nous holds THEIR silence, and THEIR gaze, for a moment longer, then fades. The oppressive noise lifts and Andreas feels himself fill the space his body takes up and only that and he can breathe, finally, and his lungs expand and contract with every breath as a human's should. He feels all ten fingers and toes and the wind on his skin and he is, once more, unremarkably and inconsequentially human. Except...

An invitation to the Genius Society is not something that can be refused. It is not a request, nor an inquiry, nor some offer that can be turned down.

It is a claim.

So No. 85 of the Genius Society requests a temporary leave of absence from the Intelligentsia Guild. He visits his hometown. He tells his parents the news. His father, quiet as ever, beams with pride. His mother weeps, not only with joy, but for the sudden shock of sheer white that has woven itself into his hair. (How strange -- he is only 38, but this fails to bother him in the slightest.) He visits Herta's Space Station once more, and the eyes on him are different; numerous as always, yes, full of awe, certainly, but full of ignorant admiration, worse than he'd ever experienced before. He feels those eyes even through his headpiece. He is to be the newest member of the Simulated Universe project. Screwllum introduces him properly to Herta, Ruan Mei, and Stephen, and he can't help feeling slightly sick as they look into his eyes with recognition. Stephen isn't there in person, but he shakes the puppet's hand, then Ruan Mei's. They're both cold. The sensation doesn't leave for hours. Screwllum's hand on his back, meant to be reassuring, makes him want to remove his skin instead.

He lays in his bathtub for hours upon his return home, half-drowned in steam and bubbles until his skin prunes and his bathwater cools to a temperature he can scarcely feel. He should get out; he will get cold.

He doesn't know what to say to Aventurine. If he should say something to Aventurine. Given the speed of the IPC's news network, Aventurine probably already knows. The next time he meets Aventurine, he will no longer be a Mundanite. He, realistically, has no need for Aventurine any longer. But Aventurine -- the IPC -- has all the more need for him. His value has fundamentally increased. The unfairness of it makes him sick. Eventually, he resigns from his job as a professor. There is no point in a genius teaching that intelligence does not belong only to the elite. The irony behind it is nothing but cruel.

Occasionally, the Key of Wisdom surfaces in his mind; it appears on his desk, under his pillow, beside his chisel.

He refuses to touch it.

He is unable to let it go.

[empirearchives]

Some of the Napoleonic reforms undone by the Pope was vaccination against smallpox and street lighting.

Source: Richard J. Evans, The Pursuit of Power: Europe 1815-1914

[maxiwaxipads]

Manufactured SEEDs

Basically, the concept is that SEEDs once served as a “positive” force meant to permanently remove or separate negative emotions that were deemed unnecessary.

(I wish I could elaborate but I don’t really know how) (I wanted the idea that “SEEDs” have always existed or something unique to Fragaria Memories without being inspired to anything if that makes sense?)

Assuming that SEEDs existed during the time of Legendary Red, what if “Legendary Red” made the SEEDs but backfired and twisted the story that they saved the world of Fragaria from the SEEDs.

Maybe the SEEDs couldn’t be completely destroyed for whatever arbitrary reason, and the Strawberry King took responsibility to guard the last remnant of existing SEEDs left from this world of Fragaria?

Eldritt’s purpose is to keep the origin of SEEDs and the truth of Legendary Red a secret. 

<- But at the same time, what good is keeping the truth hidden(?)) “To keep the world idyllic”(?) (How would revealing the truth about Legendary Red and the SEEDs affect the world? 

(Maybe we can connect this to time loop theory(?)) (Do you think Halritt wants to keep the world happy by all means necessary) (and time loop is his only answer)

Do you think their existence evolved during their entrapment by the Strawberry King? They’re indiscriminately trying to feed from negative emotions because of this insatiable hunger they had for who knows how long?

How did they escape? Why did the Strawberry King disappear?

Lovers to the same lies— Protectors to sanctity, memories to sanity Red-splattered puddles dye into black I, the shadow to which you belong … strangers to the flesh. Fumbled darkness, the pitch-black mold. A stiff neck … Unable to turn. (Clocks unfortunately twist … A head rolls down.)

Edlritt - “What only needs to be known is that…” Eldritt - “We both want the SEEDs eliminated.” “So, Merold, as long as the motivation exists—we will both be quiet.” Eldritt - “Is this clear enough for you?"

[ayumitsuu]

Tfw you find out you missed the Pursuit Ring back in Chp. 2 but have already restarted your run 3 times and are currently 90% done with Chp. 3. Hnnngghhh I want ittttt, but the maps are so loooooooong. I’m tempted but I really don’t wanna do it againnnn.

I’m sorry, Pursuit Ring. I’ll remember to pursue you next time…

[imminent-danger-came]

more music stuff but the song Solitary Confinement by Everybody's Worried About Owen is so so either MK or Wukong 

So send your condolence cards Thinking I've been held against my will It's better, you believing I'm fighting for some greater good, I know I know that I believe in nothing And that I like being alone I like being alone And there is bliss in solitary Isn't it sobering? And there is bliss in solitary Isn't it sobering? And there is fear in solitary Isn't it sobering? And there is pain in solitary Isn't it sobering?

(Link)

Speaking to my MK's complacency loving heart

[evilvarric666-archive]

For a good moment there I was pretty convinced that "no fly list leaker is cringe tenderqueer" was like a fake discourse that you guys made up. I legitimately thought I was being goncharov'd

[percocet]

when devon lee carlson was like i love moisturizing it's one of my favourite things in the world she was so real for it i too love moisturizing it too is one of my fave things in the world

[starangela]

me when I... me when I do anything (I'm so gay)

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Al Baker | David Brainerd was born in Haddam, Connecticut in April, 1718 and regularly attended the local Congregational Church, as almost everyone did in Eighteenth century New England. However when he was twenty years old Brainerd came under a long, profound, and earth shattering conviction of his sin, being very fearful for the eternal destiny of his soul. Brainerd kept a journal and upon his early death from...

[artidoesthings]

YES I MADE AN AU POSTER WITH NO REFS.

here it beee

[mossfeed]

growing up white i didn’t know you could season your vegetables until i turned 14 and started babysitting for our family friends

[lordgodjehovahsway]

1 Chronicle 10: Saul Decides To Take His Own Life

1 Now the Philistines fought against Israel; the Israelites fled before them, and many fell dead on Mount Gilboa. 

2 The Philistines were in hot pursuit of Saul and his sons, and they killed his sons Jonathan, Abinadab and Malki-Shua. 

3 The fighting grew fierce around Saul, and when the archers overtook him, they wounded him.

4 Saul said to his armor-bearer, “Draw your sword and run me through, or these uncircumcised fellows will come and abuse me.”

But his armor-bearer was terrified and would not do it; so Saul took his own sword and fell on it. 

5 When the armor-bearer saw that Saul was dead, he too fell on his sword and died. 

6 So Saul and his three sons died, and all his house died together.

7 When all the Israelites in the valley saw that the army had fled and that Saul and his sons had died, they abandoned their towns and fled. And the Philistines came and occupied them.

8 The next day, when the Philistines came to strip the dead, they found Saul and his sons fallen on Mount Gilboa. 

9 They stripped him and took his head and his armor, and sent messengers throughout the land of the Philistines to proclaim the news among their idols and their people. 

10 They put his armor in the temple of their gods and hung up his head in the temple of Dagon.

11 When all the inhabitants of Jabesh Gilead heard what the Philistines had done to Saul, 

12 all their valiant men went and took the bodies of Saul and his sons and brought them to Jabesh. Then they buried their bones under the great tree in Jabesh, and they fasted seven days.

13 Saul died because he was unfaithful to the Lord; he did not keep the word of the Lord and even consulted a medium for guidance, 

14 and did not inquire of the Lord. So the Lord put him to death and turned the kingdom over to David son of Jesse.