#if there was a church dedicated in your honor I would visit it every day

[tofutopping]

The amount of screen time Medicine Pocket got in the new LUCY PV!? EXCUSE ME?!? MEDIPOC FANS, OUR TIME HAS COME!!

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

I get being confused by the achievement of someone being commited to you. Its' an achievement I'm sure but still society makes it weird. Feeling weird about it is fine.

Thank you for the validation! Yeah it’s super weird. I don’t really believe that it’s an achievement… but it is certainly a happy fact! I think it’s super easy to slip into considering engagement/marriage to be an accomplishment bc that’s the messaging we get all day every day, but if it’s an accomplishment then that means that Not Being Married/Engaged is a failure, which I really disagree with for a variety of reasons (and it harms both unmarried people and married people!). It’s just so confusing bc like!!! It did certainly take a lot of hard work and dedication to reach this stage with my person! And I want to honor and celebrate that! We worked hard! We’ve been through a lot and come out of all of it stronger! It’s so special and life-changing! I’m an entirely different person than I was when we met, and so is my partner! But I don’t think that we’ve reached a distinct point where Something Has Been Accomplished. The commitment part is interesting too bc like I don’t think that we were in any way uncommitted before we decided to get married, having lived together for 5 years already. Marriage, for us, is more about purposefully including our community in the commitment… it’s not just committing to each other, but committing to care for each others families as if they are our own. I mostly want to marry his mom and like show her that she will always have a place in my family! And the legal pieces - particularly this thing called Spousal Privilege which is where you cannot be subpeonaed to testify in court against your spouse (you can choose to but you can’t be compelled by the court) which has been on our minds due to the uh… political climate and planning for a future where some of our political beliefs/statements/actions could potentially come with serious consequences. Basically it’s where “partner in crime” comes from! Which is similar to the legal right to visit your spouse in the hospital.. just yeah, it’s a political right to marry, and I don’t want to squander that right just bc of second wave feminism… (the family/home is a worthless use of time and the only true fulfillment a woman can achieve is within the structures of capitalism as a working woman 🙄)

But yeah the way the whole thing is drenched in cultural norms and expectations is so icky and I wish I could just selectively experience the joy without the grossness but alas!! I still haven’t told my grandma and aunt yet. Which is bonkers!! But like… my aunt was engaged in the 80s when she was in college and my grandma was over the moon about it (I found some old family Christmas letters and read the one where my Grammy announced it to Everyone and it is… Gross) and then, Something Happened and my aunt had a psychiatric incident and the engagement was broken off. There were no family Christmas letters for a few years after that, and my aunt was in and out of psychiatric hospitals, moved back home, and has spent the rest of her life being berated by her family/town/church for Failing to marry. So like!! It’s just complicated! And social pressure is immense, even without those explicitly sexist messages. My mom, for example, would NEVER do anything like that to me, but!! She still went on a tirade the other day about how degrading it is for women to change their last names when they get married (I intend to take my partner’s maternal last name because their whole family is huge and welcoming and has a lot of history and are all bluegrass musicians whereas my last name doesn’t hold a lot of meaning to me and my brother will carry on the family name anyways) but like!!!! Mom!!! Wtf?!!??! Not everything is some sexism conspiracy theory! When uniting two families into one, it makes sense to condense some things! I am literally legally joining his family, which isn’t defined by name alone obvi but like it’s a part of it! And the whole point is freedom of choice! I can do whatever I want! Even if that sometimes is the Traditional thing! Grrrrrrrrrrrr

anyways yeah I think that processing all this stuff is the important part, and defining these things for ourselves is what matters. But thank you, anon, for the question, reassurance, and opportunity to journal a bit about it! 🫶

[destinyimage]

Receive the Impartation of Intercession from the Welsh Revival

In the new era, I see the Lord raising up men and women like Rees Howells of the Welsh Revival[1], who will be marked with deep relationship with the Holy Spirit that produces radical surrender.

This will give birth to a prophetic prayer movement beyond what we have seen, which will decree His global purposes as crisis and darkness continue to rise. As the Lord brings the Church into a new era, the “new wineskin” will include an old mantle being poured out again. Just as God raised up a global prayer movement marked by prophetic prayer through a man who chose to journey with the Holy Spirit into deep surrender and communion, so the Lord will again raise up an end-time prophetic prayer movement with prayers that are proceeding from the mouth of God (see Matthew 4:4). Prayer dedicated by the Holy Spirit will be declared through vessels “on earth as it is in heaven” (see Matthew 6:10). These words of intercession will carry power and authority from those who have gone through the purifying fires of surrender into abiding with the Holy Spirit. From this place, great position will be gained in prayer to affect nations, wars, regions, and Israel preceding the return of the Lord.

Deep Relationship with the Holy Spirit

A key mark of this mantle will be the depth of relationship with the Person of the Holy Spirit. Greater levels of relationship will be the foundation to produce greater levels of surrender. Similar to Rees Howells, the nature of this relationship with the Holy Spirit will be a paradigm shift from “hosting an honored guest” to “moving out all of my stuff for the new Tenant to have the entire place to dwell.” Rather than just “sharing my things,” it will be “Him moving in all of His things.” First Corinthians 6:19-20 will become a reality rather than a concept: “Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God’s” (NKJV). Our perceptions will change from seeing ourselves as the primary dweller of our lives to Him.

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As this happens, the humanistic and orphan tendencies in us will be confronted. Many today would be offended at the language of surrender that Rees uses of the Holy Spirit’s “ownership” of him. This level of submission feels “impersonal” as we are no longer the center of the relationship. But the truth is that as this right perception is restored, a deep communion that is centered on Him (the Tenant) rather than us (the dwelling) will come like we’ve never experienced before. The words of Jesus in Luke 22:42 (NKJV), “Nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done” were not simply the words of a slave obeying a master. They were the words of a fully submitted Son who had spent 33 years on earth cultivating deep communion with His Father. Jesus made Himself a dwelling place for the Father to have full residency (see John 5:19; 8:28). And because of this, He walked in the deepest communion with the Father that any man has ever known (see John 17:20-26). The restoration of the Holy Spirit’s rightful place in our lives is what creates deep intimacy as He is able to fully dwell in us.

This relationship with the Holy Spirit “levels the playing field.” Rather than only the specifically gifted minister being used, now every believer who fully surrenders his or her life becomes a conduit of His power. Stephen was an ordinary man who was chosen to serve in practical areas of the Church rather than being selected as a “preacher” or “minister.” But his relationship with the Holy Spirit set him apart in such a way that he garnered the attention and anger of the religious system more than the leading preachers and apostles of his day (see Acts 6 and 7)! The Holy Spirit is going to visit “ordinary” men and women in the marketplace, families, schools, and government again. Like Stephen, all those who allow Him to dwell in them in this way will be used for Him to flow through (see Acts 2:17-18).

Many in the past season have only focused on the actions of the disciples with the Holy Spirit in the book of Acts. But in the days ahead the Lord will raise up men and women like Rees Howells who first begin with the foundation of relationship with the Holy Spirit that Jesus lays out for His disciples in John 14 and 16. In this place, the relationship with a Person is the pursuit, and the action or gifting is the overflow. God will raise up ordinary men and women who develop deep communion with the Holy Spirit, leading to complete surrender of everything He asks, resulting in extraordinary things being done through them.

Radical Surrender

Like Rees’ early years, the concept of the Christian life as simply walking an upright and moral life, having an affinity for God, and even enjoying services and prayer meetings will no longer have relevance in days ahead. The Lord is going to raise a people in the earth who welcome the fires of purification so that they might walk in radical surrender. The Galatians 2:20 (NIV) revelation of “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” will go from a nice concept to a way of life.

As true relationship with the Holy Spirit becomes the foundation, radical surrender in the days ahead will reach new heights. No longer will we try as hard as we can to give things up; the very One asking us to every level of surrender will now also be the “main Tenant” on the inside of us to “pull us through.” When we are the center and He is the guest, surrender is limited. However, when He is the center, He is able to be the “God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose” (Philippians 2:13 NIV).

This surrender will be marked with great humility as the pursuit of holiness turns back to being God-centered. Instead the main focus of holiness being “getting rid of all of my junk” (man-centered/humanistic), it will once again focus on making room for the Holy Spirit to make His residence in me. This process will go far beyond sin. Every aspect of self and every care of life that has had its grip on us will be processed to lose its hold. The motivation of “making me better” will give way to “making Him room.” As humanism begins to leave our ideology of holiness, a humility will come that is founded on John 3:30—because of the fact that He must increase, a burning passion will rise that we must decrease. New desire will come that everything on the inside of us that hinders Him from having “full room” must go. Only when the Holy Spirit is truly in control can radical surrender that is marked with humility be birthed.

An End-Time Prophetic Prayer Movement

Every level of surrender and deepening of relationship with the Holy Spirit led Rees Howells into gaining position in the place of prayer. Not only did authority increase, but so did the prophetic. Surrender and communion meant that not one prayer could be prayed from his own heart and mind. Every word that was prayed could only be “that proceeds from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4 NKJV). As a result, an entire company was raised up that prophetically decreed the prayers of heaven into the earth amidst global crisis.

In the new era, the Lord is going to raise up many ordinary people, who are radically marked with surrender and relationship with the Holy Spirit, and turn them into a company through which the earth will shake. Comfortable with hiddenness and desiring only for Him to receive the glory, they will form a movement in the earth to rival the plans of the enemy before the Lord’s return. They will not simply pray whatever comes to them, but the full takeover from “the Tenant within them” will cause them to declare “on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10 NKJV).

Businessmen or stay-at-home moms, schoolteachers or grandparents, doctors or politicians—title and occupation won’t matter. Radical surrender and submission to the Holy Spirit will be the only qualifying factors to be a part of this end-time praying and pioneering army. Just as the Holy Spirit raised up Rees’ school to produce instruments of intercession for the coming world crisis, so these will be raised up to declare His purposes for nations, wars, regions, and the salvation of Israel. As Rees’ company had to labor in the place of prayer as hard as those fighting on the battlefield, so this coming company will be conditioned through the purification process to remain in the fight. The days of 30-minute random prayer meetings will become obsolete in the new wineskin as prayer will become specific with the process leading to a Joel 2:28-29 outpouring over this movement. Assignments will be carried and worked on for years as the enemy rages, yet God’s purposes prevail.

In the new era, the Lord will shift the global prayer movement into a heavy anointing of the prophetic that will be birthed out of intimacy and surrender. But unlike movements led only by men with great gifts and talents, this will come from those who have been processed in purity, humbled in hidden- ness, and surrendered to the Spirit. This place of prayer will become “the great equalizer” as every man and woman from every walk of life who has submitted to the Holy Spirit’s process will be able to shake the earth from wherever they are through the place of prayer.

Notes

I talk about the Spirit-filled history and testimonies of Rees Howells in my book, Prophetic Pioneering.

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[waterrunstogether]

Rites of Passage in the Fifth World

I’ve been thinking lately about the absence of real rites of passage in modern “western culture”. A rite of passage is a sort of ritualized event (that may or may not be endorsed/organized by a community) in which a person is believed to exit from one stage of life and enter the next, usually from childhood to adulthood. Other than the humiliation of high school proms/frat hazing, or getting your driver’s license, or turning 21 and getting shitfaced, my culture in the United States has little to offer in the way of true rites of passage. 

The result is a population of confused, somewhat disillusioned children driving around and going to work or university and pretending to be adults while hopelessly stuck in the liminal space between youth and adulthood.

~ 20 year old me pretending to know what’s going on ~

I have thought about quinceañeras and baptisms, religious rites of passage commonly practiced still, but considering the traumatic experience that my parents’ organized religion was for me, I don’t believe now that my baptism was a helpful event facilitating my transition into maturity. I think it was a blindingly painful event whose toxicity I needed to overcome in what I now believe was the true rite of passage. 

I first dropped acid when I was traveling in Bulgaria. My partner was in her hometown across the country and I was visiting Plovdiv with a friend. We had just finished traveling the world, or at least Eurasia, meeting new faces and trying new things and taking wild risks in Thailand and Turkey and India and Malaysia, to name a few. I had also just escaped the cult I was born and raised in which had hammered into me from birth that my sexual and romantic orientation was an abomination, as a woman I was to obey men, God loved me and wanted me to fear him (that is to say, love = fear), the leaders of the church were to be obeyed and respected all the time (even if they were obviously wrong) and so on and so forth. It was an insane transition between being trapped in these religious handcuffs and learning that I could break free all along. In fact, I carried so much self hatred and internalized homophobia with me into my supposed new life that I didn’t know what to do with myself. Despite being outwardly happier than I had ever been before with a wonderful partner and community who truly loved and supported me for who I was, inwardly I was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown due to all of the conflicting thoughts and beliefs I was carrying and creating within myself.

The experience of that first trip was an interesting one. Every step of the way my body seemed to pull me towards the letting go of all of the toxicity that was so thick and had built up like plaque in the arteries of my energetic being--yet, I remained me throughout the trip, at the end feeling somewhat empowered but not yet finished with the transformation.

A few months later I took psilocybin, AKA magic mushrooms, with my little brother on a rainy Summer day in D.C. The whole come up of the trip was talking to trees and observing the movements of leaves, running my fingers over the moss growing on the exposed, knotty roots of tree in front of our house. But at the end of the trip, something changed. Once again my body requested, begged me, to let go of the still-prevalent toxicity inside of me. My health was in rough shape, mentally and physically, and my body knew the culprit. But once more I felt I couldn’t let go just yet, it would be too much for me, I wasn’t ready. So I spent the entire come down and then some, maybe four hours, weeping uncontrollably on the basement floor.

The second time I dropped acid was yesterday, with my partner, here in Berlin. It changed everything.

During the come up I was taken aback by how strong the effect it had on me was. My partner, bless her heart, had taken a larger dose than me, yet felt no effect the entire time. Her tolerance has always been naturally higher than mine for every kind of intoxicating substance, and LSD was no exception. 

As time went on I came to realize that her high tolerance was incredibly fortunate for me and my trip. The initial come up was amusing, as flashes of white light began to fill up my eyes, closed and open; but very quickly I began to get paranoid, strange little thoughts about being set up and targeted running through my mind as my sense of self slowly began to dissipate, just nonsense that the ego conjures up to protect itself. But my partner’s calming reassurances that she loved me and that I was safe effectively calmed me down.

Once I began to enjoy the ride up, holding a half of a pomegranate and appreciating its beauty, touching a slice of orange and loving how soft it felt in my hands, admiring the fractals of color creating all kinds of geometric shapes on the walls and snow outside the window, I became comfortable with my loss of identity. At some point I realized that I didn’t even know my name, and I didn’t care, because it was irrelevant. All that was relevant was experience. 

Imagine experiencing and interacting with the world around you without the barrier of the thing that we are so used to that it’s difficult to think of it as a barrier at all: your concept of self. Ideas about names and races and gender and desire and anger and malice and hatred just made absolutely no sense whatsoever. In this state, all that made sense was goodness and beauty and love. All that I understood was harmony and mutually beneficial behavior. My preconceived notions about who I was and what that meant were being shattered and shredded before my very eyes, exposed for what they were: nonsense.

Once I plateaued and began to slowly come down after about four or five hours I was able to contemplate what these things meant, what they would mean for me going forward. I went into the bathroom around hour 7 and decided that it was time to look into the mirror.

Many people will tell you not to look into the mirror during an acid trip, that it’ll give you the dreaded “bad trip” and you’ll have a shit time. I completely disagree. If you are like me and need to come to terms with yourself through the wonderful, horrific, beautiful, terrifying experience that is an “ego death”, I’m afraid that you’ll have no choice but to look into the mirror at some point. 

So, I stared myself down in the mirror and admitted what I couldn’t admit for so long, due to being taught that I was essentially evil since the day I was born. I’d called myself a sinner, wicked, worthless, ugly, an abomination and just about every other mean word in the evangelical dictionary. But as I stood there looking at my body in the mirror, egoless and impartial, I said, “You have done and thought some cruel things to yourself for some time now. But you know what? You are a kind person. You are a wonderful person. You treat people with respect and love, you treat everyone you’ve ever met with so much empathy, so much caring. You love the truth, you love to be generous, you love to be a good friend. You must begin to treat yourself the same way. I know you’ve had so much hatred in your heart contaminating your energy for so long, but that is enough. That is enough. No more. I am a kind person. I am a kind person. I love you. Remember that night so long ago? Beneath the stars, where they submerged you in the baptismal water and tried to destroy you, saying these sacred waters would wash all your sins away, along with your fragile, meaningless identity? Well, they simply added more to your ego, a darker side. You built up so much negativity for so long. Well, look at you now. Your identity, all of the ideas and concepts that you’ve built up around who you really are to protect you from the hurt of Life, it’s all gone. Now you’re going to baptize yourself again. You’ll be truly reborn, this time dedicated not to destroying yourself for the sake of a religion, but dedicated to renewing and becoming and becoming and becoming.” As I looking into the mirror my silhouette became filled in with the velvet black of the night sky, full of bright stars.

I turned on the water and was baptized once again, by my own hands.

When I returned to the room I felt happier than I had ever felt in my life, light as air, free. I told several people about how much I love them and described my love for them in detail, not as this thing that’s an extension of my own ego, but my love for them was a little bit of energy that I had the honor of holding in me, in this body, and sharing between us for a time, for the wonderful events that we call our lives. I could actually see love. I understood that I was not all of the concepts I’ve built around myself, but an expression of energy in this space and time, connected to every other expression of energy in all of history, from the beginning and until the end. My matter, my body, was simply a vehicle for the energy, and would be recycled into new vehicles after I die. My energy would be transferred into new vehicles as well. That’s what we perceive as death: just a simple transfer of energy and recycling of matter. My ego would not live on, thankfully. My consciousness as conflated with ego would cease to exist with me. But the underlying animating force behind all things in the universe, the true source of consciousness, would never be destroyed or created, simply recycled again and again and again and again. Becoming and becoming and becoming and becoming.

The hilarious and bizarre world of reality is hilarious and bizarre. It’s so beautiful and mystical and wonderful and honestly, nothing I write here could ever explain how I experienced being alive in that sixteen hour trip. Words don’t convey it, words can’t convey it. Reality is visceral, experiential, impartial and impossible to quantify in something as crude as human language. 

All I know is that, today, I am a fundamentally changed person. I’d feared ego death for so long, feared that it would be too much, too painful. And it was so, so painful--but it was so worth it. I am happy and proud to exist, grateful for everything I have accomplished and can accomplish in this miraculous, tiny little vessel during this ephemeral event that is my life. I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow if tomorrow exists, and unleash all of my love on everyone who’ll have it. Love is the energy that unites us with our own bodies and the entire world around us. How lucky and strange it is to be anything at all.

May you have a peaceful day. The universe smiles upon you.

[spurgie-cousin]

Weird History Wednesday🦃

Hey guys! For today’s Weird History Wednesday, we’re getting into the very bizarre American holiday of Thanksgiving. I just want to preface this by saying that this list was originally 70% food facts, both because food preparation at this time in history was straight up bananas, and also because it started making me hungry while I was reading about it. It was only when I was at about 7 food preparation facts that I realized that was probably kind of overkill. 

I did manage to rein myself in eventually, although I think I might’ve transferred that energy into a bit of a Squanto rant. All of which you can view at your own risk under the cut!

1. Contrary to popular belief, the Mayflower’s landing at Plymouth rock was not the local native people’s first contact with Europeans. The Wampanoag people of Massachusetts had already been in contact with Europeans for over a century, and were completely familiar with their culture and intentions.

2. The ‘Plymouth Rock’ historical landmark in Cape Cod that tourists (and Jill Rodrigues) can visit is not the actual ‘Plymouth Rock’ or even the location the Pilgrims landed on. It’s essentially just a random rock with a sign in front of it. The real one got split up into three pieces for some reason, and currently resides in museum and historical collections.

Jill Rodrigues posing with the fake Plymouth Rock.

3. The ‘first’ Thanksgiving only happened because of the Wampanoag’s desire to form an alliance with the Plymouth colonizers. Despite the traditional American telling of the story, their invitation wasn’t out of friendship, but out of fear of further decimation by the Europeans; by the time the Mayflower arrived, thousands of Native Americans had been killed by foreign illnesses brought by the colonizers.

4. It’s known that about 2/3 of the people at Thanksgiving feast were Native. There are records of the Pilgrims doing occasional target practice with their muskets during the feast for literally no reason except maybe to be intimidating. Which is kind of bonkers if you think about it, like what kind of asshole just starts shooting at trees during a party because they’re insecure?

‘Massasoit and His Warriors’, wood engraving, 1857

5. There were probably no women that sat down to eat at the ‘first’ Thanksgiving. Since the main goal of the gathering was to form a political alliance between the colonists and the Wampanoag, women were probably purposefully excluded, except when it came to preparing the actual food. Which was a big fucking job, since the feast ended up stretching out over 3 days.

6. Most historians agree that there probably wasn’t any turkey at the first Thanksgiving, and if there was, it definitely wasn’t the centerpiece of the meal. Goose, duck, and shellfish would’ve more likely been main dishes, as well as venison, which we know was brought to the colony that day by the Wampanoag. Wild turkey might’ve been included as a side dish along with pigeon and swan. Turkey didn’t really become associated with Thanksgiving until the mid-1800s.

The pilgrims and Natives probably ate a lot of lobster and oyster during the ‘first’ Thanksgiving, a tradition I personally believe should be revived.

7. If turkey or any large bird was served, it was probably boiled in plain water, which sounds bland and gross but was the traditional way to cook large fowl at the time. The meal was probably mostly meat with limited grains and vegetables, despite modern depictions of the feast including tons of corns and grains.

8. There were no potatoes of any kind at the first Thanksgivings, and there wouldn’t be for many subsequent ones. Potatoes would not make it to that area of North America for at least a century.

9. The mythical figure of Squanto (one of my all-time personal favorites of this story) was actually named Tisquantum and was a native of the Patuxet, a branch of the Wampanoag Tribal Confederation. He was one of several Natives who were enslaved by John Smith’s raiding party in the early 1600s and dragged back to England as a slave and sideshow. At this time, the Patuxet had a thriving civilization of thousands on the coast of New England that would rival a lot of Western city centers. 

10. While in England, Tisquantum became fluent in English and years later was eventually able to persuade his way back to New England. When he returned, he found his home had been completely decimated by the colonists, and all remaining Patuxet were either dead or dying. The Patuxet are now considered to be an extinct civilization, with Tisquantum being the last know member. 

’Tisquantum, Or Squanto, the Guide and Interpreter’ Charles de Wolf Brownell, 1864

11. Another related fact that’s worth noting is that around this time, it was popular for explorers from the ‘new world’ to return with captive animals and Natives, and parade them as mini sideshows at aristocratic events. Pocahontas is a famous example of this and was arguably a more ‘exotic’ and desirable ‘guest’ at these events, since she wore English clothes and participated in English society.

12. George Washington and many other ‘founding fathers’ originally wanted a Thanksgiving-ish holiday to celebrate the success of the Revolutionary war that focused on prayer and reflections. Thomas Jefferson, always the self righteous hypocrite, was the only one at the time to be opposed to the idea because of his dedication to the separation of church and state.

13. Until around the early 1800s, the Thanksgiving holiday wasn’t really nationally celebrated, and those who did celebrate focused more on prayer and meditation like Washington intended. The holiday didn’t focus on a large meal, and a lot of people actually fasted. It wasn’t until the Civil War, when Abe Lincoln declared Thanksgiving a national holiday in an attempt to unite a divided country, that the holiday began to take it’s more modern shape.

Part of Abe Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Proclamation

14. Ok we’ll end with a modern weird Thanksgiving fact, which is that Thanksgiving is by and large the most busy day of the year for plumbers. Apparently Americans just destroy the shit out of their plumbing systems over the holiday, even more than on Christmas. The most affected fixtures include sinks and toilets.

This isn’t a weird fact, but I think it’s also important to note that Thanksgiving is considered a day of mourning for many Native American tribes (and rightly so). The United American Indians of New England organize a mass mourning rally every year in remembrance of the hundreds of thousands of Natives killed by colonial genocide, much of which was initiated by colonizers like the Pilgrims. 

In honor of that, this year I will be making a donation to the Massachusetts Center for Native American Awareness and I wanted to include that link here in case anyone else wanted to do the same. 

I also wanted to add the link for the American Indian College Fund which is another great and vital organization that definitely deserves your support!!

Thanks for reading, and see y’all next week! 

[phykios]

the marble king, part 1 [read on ao3]

Constantinople, 1453

The end of the world began the evening of the 22nd of May, Anno Mundi 6961. Perseus, who usually never had a head for such things, would mark the date indelibly in his heart for the rest of his life. 

That night, the moon had risen, dark and eclipsed, and the men around him on the walls had shuddered, marking themselves with the sign of the cross. “An ill omen,” they muttered, fearful. “A portent of evil, surely.”

Surrounded on all sides by the Ottomans, Percy certainly couldn’t see how it might be otherwise. Amongst the rising smoke of prayer which surrounded him, Percy sent up his own. Poliouchos, Brotoloigos, be with our swords. Sthenios, guard your people here. Ennosigaios, he prayed, lifting his face to the dark moon, Father. May I bring honor to your name.

The night passed without further incident, but Percy could feel it coming, the way he could feel the earth shift beneath his feet, or the storms rolling in from the sea. What “it” could possibly be, however--that was the question. 

It felt somewhat futile to pray to his father, and the rest of the Olympians. Though they had answered him in the past, though his father had sent him more signs and gifts and summons than any other demigod he had ever known, the gods had, of late, been strangely silent. This was not terribly unusual in and of itself--most children like him rarely ever heard from their divine, yet distant, mothers and fathers--yet even Percy found his attempts at conversation thoroughly rebuffed. The rainbow messages would not reach their recipients. There was not a single satyr or faun to be found in the whole of the city. The nereids of the Bosphorus had vanished without a trace. Perhaps most concerning, he had not even heard from his cyclops brother in quite some time. It was certainly a question he wished to pose to Chiron, but Percy simply had not had an opportunity to visit camp, what with all that had been going on.

The journey to Sigeion was not so long and arduous, merely two or three days at most, even if he chose to travel over land rather than shortcut through Marmara, but Percy simply could not afford to leave at this time. Not with all their many and varied enemies closing in on them.

Leaving his fellow men to mutter and pray amongst themselves, he turned to view his city for himself, leaning between the merlons of the battlement, resting his arms on the lip of the embrasure. Even from here, one could see the dome of St. Sophia rising over the peak of the first hill, even in the darkened moonlight, silvery and silent and still. He looked above, to the jeweled night sky, and wondered, not for the first time, for what purpose was this divine silence that they suffered here.

He received no answer, of course, not that night, and not for three nights afterwards. 

On the fourth day, he had been forcibly shuffled off his post by his commander, who ordered him to get out and get some rest, after he had endured the very worst of the previous day’s rain and hail. The commander was but a mortal, but a damn good one, with a mind like Athena and a war cry like Ares, and arguing with him was a relatively useless proposition, despite the fact that, if pushed, Percy could rout his whole cohort. But he acquitted, and had spent his free evening walking up and down the misty, ghostlike streets of Constantinople. Hymns and prayers were sung behind every door, a litany of pleas, a symphony of sobs, a catalogue of wishes, all to the god of the Christians and to this god’s holy mother, which only made Percy more melancholy. How long had it been since he had seen his own mother? He had sent her away before the siege had begun, her and her husband and his half-sister, praying that his father had had enough continued affection for his one-time lover to see her and her family to safer shores, wherever they may be.

Small comforts.

Overcome with melancholy, he did not realize that his pilgrimage had brought him to the walls and domes of St. Sophia, the tether to Olympus. They were always a sight to behold, he thought ruefully, as facts he had never cared to learn himself surfaced from the recesses of his memory, even if he could not quite see them through all this damned mist. The mathematics of it was, in truth, quite beyond him, but still he could hear her voice as she explained, for the hundredth time, how the dome had been expertly balanced upon the pendentives, which then thusly bore the gargantuan weight downwards, how the forty windows gave the impression to the mortals that the dome floated above the cathedral, which of course it did, in a manner of speaking, hung on a silver thread from the heavens, how she had been quite nice when she hadn’t been an insufferable daughter of Athena--

“Percy?”

He turned, not to the blonde hair that he had half expected he would see, but to hair as red as firelight, the starkness turning her pale face even paler. “Rachael?”

“Oh, it is you!” And she leapt on him in an embrace that would have shocked the people around them, if they had cared to lift their heads from their unceasing prayer. “I cannot begin to tell how glad I am to see you.”

“And I as well,” he said, returning her embrace. They no longer had any awkwardness between them, and had not for years--and thanks be to the gods for that. What had once been a fumbling, awkward romance had blossomed instead into a deep, solid friendship, one that he was most grateful for. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong at camp?”

She shook her head. “No more or less wrong than the last time you were there. Troia still stands, for the moment.”

That was not a reassuring answer. “Then what brings you to our fair city? And,” he frowned, suddenly confused. “We are under siege… how did you--”

“I had to come,” she said, turning towards the church, despite the mist which shrouded it from view. “I just had this feeling.”

Oh,  would it were that her feelings were ever good. “The Oracle?”

Rachael nodded. “She has been restless, as of late. She has not spoken through me in many years, though I can feel her stirring.”

“Perhaps it will be good news, this time.”

She looked at him, pityingly. “Dearest Perseus, surely even you know better than to court the Moirai in this manner.”

“What more can they do to me,” he replied, “than has already been done?”

They stood in silence for some time, contemplating on the odd circumstances which brought them to this place, at this moment. Around him, the prayers of the people never ceased, though in the thick, heavy fog which surrounded them, it seemed as though they were the only two real people in the square. He could see very little, but whatever Rachael could divine from the walls must have been fascinating, he assumed, whatever it was she could see with her special sight. 

“This mist,” she murmured. “It is strong, and unnatural.”

“I suspected as much.” Dense fog such as this was not a common occurrence in the city, so sudden and out of place that even the mortals had noticed it, another malignant augury to haunt them. “Can you see through it? Do you know what has caused it?”

As long as he had known her, Rachael had possessed quite the unique gift, to see truth clearly and without alteration. Magic spells and enchanted fog were no match for her, she who had once traversed the fabled Labyrinth, Ariadne’s thread made manifest in a young girl. She had even been able to see Olympus as it perched on top of the dome, the severed head of the mountain balanced perfectly on the point of a needle, even as he and his fellow demigods could see nothing. As the Oracle, she had lost none of her keenness, speaking prophecy as precisely, and as cuttingly, as she had always spoken truth to her friends. She was not one who believed in lies or falsehoods, or who would hide the truth for any mere convenience.

So he knew that the naked fear on her face was real when she turned to him and said, “I can see nothing but this wretched mist.”

There were not many monsters he knew of who could create an illusion so powerful as to shroud even the Oracle of Delphi; Hecate, perhaps, but why she would have deigned to show her face when the rest of the gods remained silent was very uncharacteristic of what he knew of the goddess. And he did not think that even she would still be so bitter as to side with the Ottomans in this instance. 

Faintly, through the thick net of psalms which enfolded the square, he heard those other voices, sharp and piercing in tone, yet rich and mellifluous in melody, floating to them from across the Golden Horn. By his count, this was the fourth time they had sung today; thus, the time was now evening, a little after sunset, if he was correct. 

“What is that strange singing?” asked his companion, tilting her head curiously to the source of the song.

“It is the enemy,” said Percy. “Five times daily they call out to their god in this manner.” The Ottoman prisoners they had captured continued to pray their daily prayers, even in captivity, with a fervency and a dedication which deeply impressed Percy’s captain, though had sorely disturbed Percy’s other, more brutish fellow men. Having heard it up close and far away for so long, he had nearly grown accustomed to the melody, and found it oddly comforting in its sharp, even predictability, in this other man’s faith which would not desert him as it had with some of his Christian captors.

“It’s beautiful,” Rachael whispered.

“It is,” he agreed. He was sure there was much more to say on that topic, but the fear and unease of the magical fog was too much to bear, and, truth be told, he was quite hungry. Perhaps they could debate this another time. “Do you have a place to stay? I wouldn’t trust an Inn at the moment, if I were you. My mother’s house has an extra bed; you will be well come there.”

But she was not listening to him. 

He frowned, giving her arm the briefest of shakes. “Rachael?”

She stood, still as a statue, her gaze turned up to the dome, her mouth hanging open. There was not even a breath of wind to ruffle her wild hair. 

“Rachael?”

Her posture, already so straight, snapped even straighter, as though it were the string of a bow. Her head was thrown back, and she gazed sightlessly at the sky, her mouth open in a wordless shriek. He nearly toppled over as she fell onto him, her hands a death grip around his wrists. Green, sickly mist poured forth from her mouth, her eyes, her ears, and all around him in a horrible, deathless voice, the Oracle delivered its prophecy.

Tell the emperor, she gasped, in an ancient tongue that had not been heard for nearly a thousand years, that my hall has fallen to the ground--Phobos no longer has his house. In this state, she attempted to claw her way up his body, her shaking hands reaching for his face, even as he tried to hold her at bay. Nor his mantic bay, nor his prophetic spring. 

His storm sense tingled, the hairs on the back of his neck rising, the sweet scent of flowers in the air. Thunder rumbled above them, even as the fog retreated, revealing the walls and domes of the church to the open air once again, and the mortals increased their plaintive wails. 

The water has dried up! She shrieked, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Tell the emperor--all is ended!

With an almighty crack, lightning struck over their heads, arcing with pinpoint precision onto the very tip of the dome. The receding mist lit up like gold and silver, like the celestial bronze of his secret sword, like the bright, blinding glow of a god’s truest form, one which mortal eyes were not able to comprehend, and in that light Percy thought he saw them, the twelve and the others, the hammer and the dove, the twin archers, the owl and the crown and all the rest, and for one terrible half of a heartbeat, there also he saw the trident, saw his father’s face turn from him in sorrow, and he could not feel the drag of Rachael’s fingers into his skin, nor hear the cries of the mortals as they beheld the terrible sight, though they could not understand what they saw, none but Percy could see how the gods fled the ancient city, leaving their people behind, leaving Percy behind, to slaughter and to ruin.

And just as swiftly, the vision vanished. The fog had lifted entirely. Rachael collapsed into his arms, the spirit of prophecy having left her form, and he shook her as gently as he could. “Rachael, are you alright? Rachael?”

As though she were emerging from a dream, she groaned, her eyes shut tight. “Percy?” she grunted, shuddering in his grasp. “What--where--”

“You had a vision, it seems,” he said. “Can you remember any of it?”

She shook her head, blinking. “No… what did I say?”

“You spoke of the Emperor.” It was likely that the man himself was within the very church, leading what was left of his people in more desperate prayer. “You said--”

But with a short, sharp scream, she cut off his words, and lifted one trembling finger to the sky. “Percy,” she gasped in fear and in terror, “Percy! Look!”

“You know that I cannot see as you,” he said, though his gorge rose within him. “What? What is it?”

“Olympus,” she cried out, with all the pain of a newly orphaned child. “Olympus! Olympus has gone!”

And as she wept into her hands, his arms around her, he sent up his prayers once again, to Athena and Ares and Zeus, to the father that had always professed to love him above all his other children, his thoughts rising like smoke up to a sky full of stars which no longer seemed to shine quite as bright.

[theoctobercountrysblog]

The Catholic History of Halloween

We’ve all heard the allegation: Halloween is a pagan rite dating back to some pre-Christian festival among the Celtic Druids that escaped church suppression. Even today modern pagans and witches continue to celebrate this ancient festival. If you let your kids go trick-or-treating, they will be worshiping the devil and pagan gods.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The origins of Halloween are, in fact, very Christian and rather American. Halloween falls on October 31 because of a pope, and its observances are the result of medieval Catholic piety.

It’s true that the ancient Celts of Ireland and Britain celebrated a minor festival on October 31–as they did on the last day of most other months of the year. However, Halloween falls on the last day of October because the Solemnity of All Saints, or “All Hallows,” falls on November 1. The feast in honor of all the saints in heaven used to be celebrated on May 13, but Pope Gregory III (d. 741) moved it to November 1, the dedication day of All Saints Chapel in St. Peter’s at Rome. Later, in the 840s, Pope Gregory IV commanded that All Saints be observed everywhere. And so the holy day spread to Ireland.

The day before was the feast’s evening vigil, “All Hallows Even,” or “Hallowe’en.” In those days Halloween didn’t have any special significance for Christians or for long-dead Celtic pagans.

In 998, St. Odilo, the abbot of the powerful monastery of Cluny in southern France, added a celebration on November 2. This was a day of prayer for the souls of all the faithful departed. This feast, called All Souls Day, spread from France to the rest of Europe.

So now the Church had feasts for all those in heaven and all those in purgatory. What about those in the other place? It seems Irish Catholic peasants wondered about the unfortunate souls in hell. After all, if the souls in hell are left out when we celebrate those in heaven and purgatory, they might be unhappy enough to cause trouble. So it became customary to bang pots and pans on All Hallows Even to let the damned know they were not forgotten. Thus, in Ireland at least, all the dead came to be remembered–even if the clergy were not terribly sympathetic to Halloween and never allowed All Damned Day into the church calendar.

But that still isn’t our celebration of Halloween. Our traditions on this holiday center on dressing up in fanciful costumes, which isn’t Irish at all. Rather, this custom arose in France during the 14th and 15th centuries. Late medieval Europe was hit by repeated outbreaks of the bubonic plague–the Black Death–and it lost about half its population. It is not surprising that Catholics became more concerned about the afterlife.

More Masses were said on All Souls Day, and artistic representations were devised to remind everyone of their own mortality. We know these representations as the “danse macabre”, or “dance of death,” which was commonly painted on the walls of cemeteries and shows the devil leading a daisy chain of people–popes, kings, ladies, knights, monks, peasants, lepers, etc.–into the tomb. Sometimes the dance was presented on All Souls Day itself as a living tableau with people dressed up in the garb of various states of life.

But the French dressed up on All Souls, not Halloween; and the Irish, who had Halloween, did not dress up. How the two became mingled probably happened first in the British colonies of North America during the 1700s, when Irish and French Catholics began to intermarry. The Irish focus on Hell gave the French masquerades an even more macabre twist.

But as every young ghoul knows, dressing up isn’t the point; the point is getting as many goodies as possible. Where on earth did “trick or treat” come in? “Treat or treat” is perhaps the oddest and most American addition to Halloween and is the unwilling contribution of English Catholics.

During the penal period of the 1500s to the 1700s in England, Catholics had no legal rights. They could not hold office and were subject to fines, jail and heavy taxes. It was a capital offense to say Mass, and hundreds of priests were martyred.

Occasionally, English Catholics resisted, sometimes foolishly. One of the most foolish acts of resistance was a plot to blow up the Protestant King James I and his Parliament with gunpowder. This was supposed to trigger a Catholic uprising against the oppressors. The ill-conceived Gunpowder Plot was foiled on November 5, 1605, when the man guarding the gunpowder, a reckless convert named Guy Fawkes, was captured and arrested. He was hanged; the plot fizzled.

November 5, Guy Fawkes Day, became a great celebration in England, and so it remains. During the penal periods, bands of revelers would put on masks and visit local Catholics in the dead of night, demanding beer and cakes for their celebration: trick or treat!

Guy Fawkes Day arrived in the American colonies with the first English settlers. But by the time of the American Revolution, old King James and Guy Fawkes had pretty much been forgotten. Trick or treat, though, was too much fun to give up, so eventually it moved to October 31, the day of the Irish-French masquerade. And in America, trick or treat wasn’t limited to Catholics.

The mixture of various immigrant traditions we know as Halloween had become a fixture in the United States by the early 1800s. To this day, it remains unknown in Europe, even in the countries from which some of the customs originated.

But what about witches? Well, they are one of the last additions. The greeting card industry added them in the late 1800s. Halloween was already “ghoulish,” so why not give witches a place on greeting cards? The Halloween card failed (although it has seen a recent resurgence in popularity), but the witches stayed.

So too, in the late 1800s, ill-informed folklorists introduced the jack-o’-lantern. They thought that Halloween was Druidic and pagan in origin. Lamps made from turnips (not pumpkins) had been part of ancient Celtic harvest festivals, so they were translated to the American Halloween celebration.

The next time someone claims that Halloween is a cruel trick to lure your children into devil worship, I suggest you tell them the real origin of All Hallows Eve and invite them to discover its Christian significance, along with the two greater and more important Catholic festivals that follow it.

[flameontheotherside]

My Faith/Doubt In God

I grew up as. Jehova's Whitness. I like that the religion follows more of Jesus's teaching and we had Hebrew customs. But I don't like the questionable things that were happening within the church. Plus I love Christmas and I spent so many years not celebrating my birthday that I went crazy with house parties when I turned 20, 21,22, and 23. After that it got kind of old. Instead of parties, I rather go out drinking at a kareoke bar or go on vacation but not actually dedicate a whole day to just me. I don't need gifts or honor or worship just because I was born.

I teeter tottered through my life on his existence. When I was small I was very in to God and I remember sort of preaching about how rainbows was a sign from God that he would never flood the earth again. Of course I got in trouble. I loved to sing in church and if we had a choir I would have been in it for sure!

Around middle school years, I started doubting.

I think it's around here my depression symptoms started. I was bullied, I felt ignored and uncared for, my friends always gravitated to my twin brother. At the time Autism wasn't a common diagnosis for girls but I had to take special classes and see a speech pathologist. Often I couldn't communicate well so it added to my depression and anxiety. I felt like a failure and so I thought how could God let this happen to me? There's no God!

Over time I would be an atheist but then agnostic. Over time I decided to read the children's Bible. I read it over and over. My favorite book is JOB. It reminds me that in my faith in God even in hard situations has its rewards and I can sort of relate to his story where I have literally lost what was important to me since being homeless almost a year now, he has replenished some of my things in to better things. Anyway so with the Bible, I have trouble reading big books without pictures and explained simply for someone like me. So I watch lectures about the Bible and the Bible explained videos. Then I started to look at archeological references of the Bible proving the validity or possibly/prabability of. I became more and more agnostic and I stayed that way under I began to hear the voice of God.

Speaking to God is still crazy to me.

I can totally understand from a skeptical point of view and psychological point of view. That this can be psychosis. This is a schizophrenic thing. But I can't deny how my life has changed from the day I started to listen to him. Great things have happened and when I didn't listen to him, bad things happened. He's like a real father. He's excouraging, loving, patient, very blunt and to the point. He has no problem letting me know when/if I'm slipping! When I do wrong, he can be upset and refer me to one of the ten commandments. But he's not ever never ever angry! I feel the love and it's unconditional. Nothing can fake that and believe me I know damn well.

See when I have doubts, he's not upset. We grow from our doubts. We weren't made to be perfect so God doesn't expect anything from us but our love and devotion to him as our heavenly father! When I have really bad doubt that kind of paralyzes me I immediately ask God for help. He's patient and tells me to give my worries to him and of course.... Please stop worrying!

I like talking to people who belong to religious sects.

My mind is open and I hope I make others think too. I get passionate and upset sometimes when I talk to people who don't believe and of course more upset when I tell someone I rather not choose a religion. I don't need to succumb to that kind of pride. I want to practice humility by not assuming one church is better by joining one specific. I want to remain humble by admitting I don't know Jack shit until I die. Too many religious people have thier heads so far up thier ass they forget about humility.

I'm angry and frustrated with some people who act as though God is like Santa Clause. Because he's not. He's like a parent. You can't ask him for something and expect it to appear to you right away. You have to first tell him your genuinely grateful for the things he's given you. He knows your heart so if you half-assed it, you will get a new phone but it's locked. How would you feel if you gave someone something and never got a thank you note! It's kind of rude. How can you receive if you're not already happy within yourself? You got to be open to allow things to happen in his way and on his time.

I still get angry at God too.

He knows I'm going through a hard time but I don't take advantage of it by saying, fuck you God every single day assuming it's okay. It's not okay. I mean I get angry and in rare cases I even say that I hate him. Later on I always feel bad and ask him to forgive me. He knows in my heart I'm only expressing my humanity and he reminds me that pain is just temporary. I have to give my worries, fears, and shit (well not shit... You know what I mean) to him. So he forgives me and I don't immediately feel better but over time I do because I have renewed faith and sometimes it's not something I get just right away and it's fine.

😘❤️ Good night ya'll I love you!

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(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧Don’t forget to take a look at Erik’s blog run by his amazing mom Dr Elisa Medhus. Lots of stuff about his afterlife and 💩 at channelingerik.com.

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[penniesforthestorm]

Castle Rock, Part 2

“Be Your Own Hero!”

  Episode 4: “The Box” Episode 5: “Harvest” Episode 6: “Filter”

Hello, and welcome to the second part of my Castle Rock coverage! Now that the major expository groundwork has been laid, I want to spend a little time talking about the characters. Let’s start with Dennis Zalewski, the Shawshank guard who discovered The Kid. Zalewski, who has a pregnant wife to support, is unhappy in his job, lamenting to Henry Deaver in a previous episode, “Do you think I’d be working here if there was a Wal-Mart within sixty miles?” At the beginning of Episode 4, “The Box”, we see Zalewski arriving for another day on the job, accompanied by the gritty strains of Tom Waits’ “Clap Hands”. Every time one of the prison’s doors shuts behind him, we realize that he feels just as trapped as the men he’s guarding. Zalewski’s coworkers don’t seem to share his distaste. An oily representative of Shawshank’s new corporate owners pays The Kid a visit, and describes, with relish, how he and his Army buddies tortured an Iraqi prisoner who wouldn’t give up his name. In response, The Kid intones a passage from the Book of Revelations: “He has a name written on him, which no one knows except himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood and his name is called The Word of God.” The Kid stands up as he speaks, looming forbiddingly over the other man.

And what’s Henry Deaver up to? First of all, he and Alan Pangborn go up to Bangor, to make arrangements for Matthew Deaver’s coffin to be delivered back to Castle Rock. Henry, hunting for more clues, stumbles across a name in an old news article about his own disappearance—a man called Desjardins, who lived just a mile from the lake. He decides to pay a call on Desjardins, and finds a whole lot more than he bargained for. The house is in utter disrepair—an old piano has crashed through the kitchen ceiling, and there are broken boards everywhere. Its elderly inhabitant, Joseph Desjardins, seems oddly delighted to see Henry. He brings Henry back to his bedroom and digs out a water-stained cardboard box containing Henry’s police file. It’s a relief when Henry leaves unscathed, goes to visit Molly, and ends up spending the night with her. The next morning, though, Henry calls Zalewski and says that he’s leaving Castle Rock. Zalewski had agreed to be deposed at a hearing regarding The Kid, and earlier in the episode, he stopped by The Kid’s cell and promised him that soon, they’d both be free. He even offered The Kid a friendly fist-bump. Now, after listening to Henry’s voicemail, Zalewski goes into his office. He removes his pistol from the safe, climbs the stairs, and shoots his way up to the warden’s office, as Roy Orbison’s “Crying” (another aria, of sorts) swoons over the soundtrack. Henry is there waiting, and Zalewski manages to say, “I want to testify”, before a smoke-bomb goes off behind him and he is shot down by another officer.

Episode 5, “Harvest”, opens with Henry at a clinic in Texas, undergoing a cognitive exam. He is asked to repeat five words, which he does: “Boat, white, church, dog, family.” It’s about the mysterious ringing in his ears that’s plagued him since he was young. We see him cringing in the aftermath of Zalewski’s shooting spree; clearly, having a gun go off right by him hasn’t helped. Back at Shawshank, Warden Porter is getting chastised by her boss. She sighs about being ‘thrown under the bus’; it’s the second time this idiom has been used in her presence. The first time was in conversation with Henry, regarding the late Warden Lacy, when she sneered, “That’s where you throw dead perverts”. Speaking of Warden Lacy, we get a flashback of him and The Kid together down in the cage. Lacy admits that he has always felt some doubt about what he’s done, even though God told him The Kid would ‘drag evil behind him everywhere you went’. He touches The Kid’s hand, then his face, with a gentle, sad expression. In the present, The Kid is released. He undergoes a similar exam to the one Henry had; his five words are, “Face, velvet, red, church, family.” Henry and Molly put him up at Molly’s office, and instruct him to stay hidden. That night, The Kid slips out. He finds a boy's birthday party in progress, and sneaks in to watch, but as he lingers in the shadows, the party devolves into a screaming match between the parents, and a baby wails inconsolably. The Kid retreats into the night, pensive and alone. Now it's time to talk about Alan Pangborn and Ruth Deaver. Scott Glenn and Sissy Spacek have wonderful chemistry on screen—you fully believe that these people are used to each other's rhythms. Alan grouses about having to attend a bridge-dedication ceremony in his honor, and Ruth teases him, her blue eyes full of mischief. At the ceremony, Alan begins a laconic speech, mentioning that he wanted to be a magician, but was hampered by the necessity of 'telling a story' to distract his audience. But he's interrupted by the barking of a large dog, and the sudden realization that Ruth is not in her seat. She's up on the railing of the bridge, and then aloft, heading straight for the river. Henry rushes over and jumps in to save her. And this brings me to the other major character I haven't yet discussed: Jackie Torrance (Jane Levy)—assistant to Molly Strand, sardonic expert in Castle Rock lore. When Jackie heads to Molly's office, she discovers The Kid lurking upstairs, sans clothing. Jackie takes this entirely in stride, rustling up some hand-me-downs and bringing The Kid up to speed on Castle Rock's historically bad luck. She even drops a reference to her uncle, who tried to ax-murder his family, back in the rad, bad old '80s (yes, that Torrance). This spooks The Kid, who flees to the nearest convenient rooftop, and Jackie calls Molly for help. Molly tries to console The Kid, but he tells her mournfully, "I shouldn't be here." The echoes of human misery in The Kid's (and Molly's) mind reach a crescendo. So Molly takes him to the Deaver house that evening, and Henry reluctantly leads him out to the old workshop in the backyard. Inside, on a dusty piano, The Kid suddenly picks out the classic hymn, "O God Our Help in Ages Past". "I remember…" he murmurs. Henry nods in approval and bids him goodnight. But our Kid has other ideas. He wanders out to the woods, and finds himself in direct confrontation with Alan Pangborn. Alan remembers him from the night Lacy claimed to have trapped the Devil in his trunk. Awed and frightened, Alan declares, "I can't remember my own dead wife's face, but I never forgot yours. 27 years, and you haven't aged one day." This seems to spark something in The Kid. He tells Alan he can help Ruth, and then says, "You have no idea what's going here, do you?"

In Episode 6, "Filter", The Kid sends Alan on a mysterious errand to Syracuse. He also continues to explore the environs of the Deaver house, clothing himself in a shabby grey suit and putting on a record. (Keen listeners will notice that when The Kid walks, he's frequently accompanied by the fwip, fwip of a record skipping.) Perhaps most intriguingly, he finds a repository of video tapes featuring Henry as a child out in the woods, clearly filmed by Matthew Deaver. Henry, for his part, has called for his teenage son Wendell (Chosen Jacobs) to come up from Boston, to see his grandmother. Wendell comes off the bus absorbed in his phone, but he's polite and amiable, particularly to Ruth. The three of them are making lunch when Ruth stares out the kitchen window in shock. The Kid is out there, in his grey suit. Something seems to pass between him and Ruth, even through the glass and the distance. In a panic, Henry runs out and whisks The Kid into the car, carting him off to the nearby psychiatric facility. Later that night, Wendell asks Henry why Ruth and Matthew adopted him. Henry mentions that they lost a child some years before, but insists that they are his "real parents". The next day, Henry goes marching off into the woods with the old camera, queuing up the footage of his younger self to see if he can discover what, exactly, Matthew was directing him to do out there. Ruth and Wendell sit down for a game of chess, with Ruth's copy of the famous Lewis chess set—a gift from Alan. (The original pieces, carved from walrus ivory by Vikings sometime in the 12th Century, currently reside at the British Museum.) Wendell notices that some of the pieces are missing, and Ruth relates a significant secret. She believes that she has become unstuck in time. "This conversation—we've been here before. We'll be here again." The chess pieces, scattered through the house, are her way of anchoring herself to the present—her breadcrumb trail. Henry could have used a breadcrumb trail of his own; as the dusk gathers in the woods, the camera's battery dies, and Henry gets lost. He finally discovers a campfire, guarded by another soft-spoken young man with wild eyes. An older gentleman comes out of the trees, and begins signing rapidly, while the young man translates. His name is Odin Branch (Ruth's Norse-mythology expertise would come in handy here), and his jumpy companion is Willie. Odin explains that he knew Matthew Deaver, and that the two of them shared an interest in what used to be called 'the music of the spheres'—a vast, universal sound, that some people hear and others do not. The theory is that the sound is the multiverse trying to reconcile itself—other realities knocking against each other like thunderclouds. Before Matthew's death, he had made a blueprint for a chamber he called 'The Filter'—a noise-proof room where the sound, which Odin calls the Schisma, might be observed in pristine condition. Odin has built a replica in his trailer, and, somewhat less than cordially, he invites Henry to observe for himself, slamming the door after him. The episode ends with Alan returning from Syracuse, to find The Kid sitting on the front steps of the Deaver house. The object Alan was seeking was Warden Lacy's car, and he has arranged for it to be brought down. Then Alan notices that The Kid is bleeding. "There will be a monument,"The Kid proclaims through clenched teeth, "to Warden Lacy, and to all who helped put me in there. Why did you do it, Alan?" Alan rushes past The Kid, up to the house, calling for Ruth. Whatever he finds there, we have the distinct feeling it won't be good.

[destinyimage]

Former Satan Worshipper: "I'm Shocked Christians Celebrate Halloween"

Anton LaVey, the founder of the Church of Satan, said: "I am glad that Christian parents let their children worship the devil at least one night out of the year. Welcome to Halloween."

We are quick on our feet to rush and honor the devil in so many ways. We see no harm in Halloween, because we think it is fun. We paint our faces, we wear our innocent costumes, we dress up our doorways—even churches dress up their entryways for Halloween with pumpkins. These actions are like giving the devil license, saying, "Here's my church. You can have it."

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We think because we are not performing any demonic rituals or human sacrifices that we are on safe ground, but did you know that as soon as you dress up, whether you color yourself or put on a costume, the enemy owns you? Because by doing so, you have turned over your legal rights, and you have dedicated yourself and your kids to celebrating the devil's holiday. You have just made a pact with the enemy, and you are already sacrificing your children spiritually by dressing them up and changing their identity.

Losing Our Identity

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My mind goes back to the night of Oct. 31, 1987, when I had the most diabolical wedding on the planet. My fiancé and I decided to get married on Halloween, in a demonic ritual that lasted all night, and the wedding bells were heard all the way down to the gates of hell.As devil worshippers, Halloween was very special to us, and we looked forward to celebrating it because we knew the implications and the dark power behind the night. It is very different from every other night in the witchcraft world. It would be like me saying to believers today, "How important to you are Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday?" Halloween has that much weight and importance to those who dwell on the dark side.

I remember the days leading up to Halloween, we devil worshippers had our instructions from the demon world about what had to be done, and we knew it was going to be a long night. I would sleep all day to be rested up and ready for midnight so I could unleash hell on the world into the wee hours of the morning.Some churches remove the word "Halloween" and call it "harvest" instead, with members dressing up in costumes, giving out candy and bobbing for apples. It saddens my heart. Turning away from this "holiday" is not missing out on anything, so let us get that off our minds.

If they are trying to use certain secular holidays for evangelistic purposes, to win souls, this is the way I would do it as a minister: I would make it a biblical movie night with popcorn and soft drinks for the kids and grownups, and invite unsaved friends and family. My intention for the event would be to expose the origin and dangers of Halloween, then turn it into a great movie night, with a small teaching afterward from God's Word about His love and the finished work of the cross. Finally, I would have an altar call and make it a special night for all to remember.The only harvest we should celebrate is the harvest of souls.For many who celebrate Halloween, that celebration carries over to Nov. 1, which is also known to some as the Day of the Dead, or All Saints' Day, but there is nothing holy about it—it is demonic.I am surprised at how the world embraces this holiday, because the title of All Saints' Day is a deceiving one. We have a picture in our minds that it seems holy, but there is nothing innocent about it. This holiday is practiced all throughout South and Central America and distant parts of the world, and even in the United States. To the Spanish culture, it is called Día de Muertos, and they celebrate the dead through rituals and ceremonies and even cemetery visits. YouTube would be a good place to go and see for yourself what this is about. This holiday has nothing holy about it nor anything to do with saints.

How might we counter this darkness as ministers of the good news of Jesus?

In the Bible, when the Lord calls the believers "saints," the term means we have been sanctified by the blood of Jesus Christ and the finished work of the cross. We are set apart for good works to glorify God.As a minister, I would use All Saints' Day to turn the tables on the devil and to celebrate my salvation and the salvation of my family and loved ones. I would use it as an evangelistic opportunity at my church to bring in unsaved people to hear testimonies of God's goodness and how He can transform their lives, too. And that night, I would give the devil a black eye in Jesus' name, because many souls would be saved.

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This blog originally posted by charismamag.com. 

[vanherndon]

I taught class tonight in the absence of Bobby who is in vacation.

Here are the notes from tonight’s class

LESSON 4

BOUGHT WITH A PRICE

INTRODUCTION:

1 Corinthians 6:20.

[1Co 6:20 NKJV] For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's.

Since Christians were bought with the price of the blood of Christ, it behooves us to be careful how we live.

Since we were bought, we are not our own, we are God’s.

DISCUSSION:

The New Life, a Pure Life.

A. 1.

[1Co 6:15-20 NKJV] Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ and make [them] members of a harlot? Certainly not! Or do you not know that he who is joined to a harlot is one body [with her]? For "the two," He says, "shall become one flesh." But he who is joined to the Lord is one spirit [with Him]. Flee sexual immorality. Every sin that a man does is outside the body, but he who commits sexual immorality sins against his own body. Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit [who is] in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's.

A premium is put on purity here.

In verse 19, Paul says our body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. (There are two Greek words for temple. One is the complete temple grounds. The other is the inner-most sanctuary.) That is the word used here.

We are to glorify God with our bodies. How can we when we don't keep our bodies pure?

The mention of becoming one with the prostitute is not in the same sense or degree that becoming one in marriage is, but that the connection is so intimate that it becomes both spiritually and physically degrading

Must be pure in heart (Matt. 5:8).

[Mat 5:8 NKJV] Blessed [are] the pure in heart, For they shall see God.

The inverse of this statement must also be true, that those not pure in heart will not see God.

Must be pure in speech (1 Pet. 3:10).

[1Pe 3:10 NKJV] For "He who would love life And see good days, Let him refrain his tongue from evil, And his lips from speaking deceit.

Pete denied knowing Christ by using foul language.

Pure in works (2 Cor. 7:1).

[2Co 7:1 NKJV] Therefore, having these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God.

fear=Profound Reverence

Here are some figures which illustrate Christian purity:

1. A chaste bride (Eph. 5:2541; 2 Cor. 11:2).

[Eph 5:25 NKJV] Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her,

[2Co 11:2 NKJV] For I am jealous for you with godly jealousy. For I have betrothed you to one husband, that I may present [you as] a chaste virgin to Christ.

Paul represents himself a friend of the bridegroom to whom he has presented the Corinthians and felt it his duty to keep them pure.

2. Refined gold (Job 23:10; 1 Pet. 1:6).

[Job 23:10 NKJV] But He knows the way that I take; [When] He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold.

[1Pe 1:6 NKJV] In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials,

Gold is purified by fire, It is shaped by the pounding of a hammer. It is valuable because it is rare. Trials are an opportunity to prove our faith. “A little while” reminds us that relatively speaking our time on earth is but a flash within our eternity.

As pure people, we have an obligation to stay unspotted-love not the world.

James 1:27—this is pure religion.

[Jas 1:27 NKJV] Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, [and] to keep oneself unspotted from the world.

Chalk Example: Whatever chalk touches, on it, it leaves a trace. While we must live in the world, we must be diligent to protect our personal purity.

1 John 2:15-17.

[1Jo 2:15-17 NKJV] Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that [is] in the world--the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life--is not of the Father but is of the world. And the world is passing away, and the lust of it; but he who does the will of God abides forever.

Do not love the world literally means to stop loving the world. It acknowledges man’s tendency to yield to the world. Worldliness is a major source of apostasy of falling away.

Romans 12:2.

[Rom 12:2 NKJV] And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what [is] that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

We are not to follow the fads of this world. The body goes where the mind leads it and we are to be of a renewed mind seeking after “what [is] that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.”

1 Thessalonians 5:22.

[1Th 5:22 NKJV] Abstain from every form of evil.

Purity can and must be maintained.

By reading God's Word (Psa. 119:11; 1 John 3:9).

[Psa 119:11 NKJV] Your word I have hidden in my heart, That I might not sin against You.

[1Jo 3:9 NKJV] Whoever has been born of God does not sin, for His seed remains in him; and he cannot sin, because he has been born of God.

The idea here is that a person born of God is a person that is resolved or dedicated to honor that relationship and therefore does not wantonly choose sin. Sin is not a lifestyle as compared to Satan who has lived sinfully ever since his rebellion. The word of God is the seed that Christians spring from.

By thinking on the hope of heaven (1 John 3:3).

[1Jo 3:3 NKJV] And everyone who has this hope in Him purifies himself, just as He is pure.

By admonition (Heb. 10:24).

[Heb 10:24 NKJV] And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works,

By discipline.

Personal (Mat. 5:29-30).

[Mat 5:29-30 NKJV] "If your right eye causes you to sin, pluck it out and cast [it] from you; for it is more profitable for you that one of your members perish, than for your whole body to be cast into hell. "And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and cast [it] from you; for it is more profitable for you that one of your members perish, than for your whole body to be cast into hell.

Christ is using dramatic figures of speech to drive the point home that a Christian should do all in his power to take every precaution to eliminate weakness and examine himself to avoid actions that would lead to stumbling.

Congregational (1 Cor. 5:1-13).

[1Co 5:1-13 NKJV] It is actually reported [that there is] sexual immorality among you, and such sexual immorality as is not even named among the Gentiles--that a man has his father's wife! And you are puffed up, and have not rather mourned, that he who has done this deed might be taken away from among you. For I indeed, as absent in body but present in spirit, have already judged (as though I were present) him who has so done this deed. In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, when you are gathered together, along with my spirit, with the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, deliver such a one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. Your glorying [is] not good. Do you not know that a little leaven leavens the whole lump? Therefore purge out the old leaven, that you may be a new lump, since you truly are unleavened. For indeed Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed for us. Therefore let us keep the feast, not with old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened [bread] of sincerity and truth. I wrote to you in my epistle not to keep company with sexually immoral people. Yet [I] certainly [did] not [mean] with the sexually immoral people of this world, or with the covetous, or extortioners, or idolaters, since then you would need to go out of the world. But now I have written to you not to keep company with anyone named a brother, who is sexually immoral, or covetous, or an idolater, or a reviler, or a drunkard, or an extortioner--not even to eat with such a person. For what [have] I [to do] with judging those also who are outside? Do you not judge those who are inside? But those who are outside God judges. Therefore "put away from yourselves the evil person."

Heaven is a pure place for a pure people (Rev. 21:27).

[Rev 21:27 NKJV] But there shall by no means enter it anything that defiles, or causes an abomination or a lie, but only those who are written in the Lamb's Book of Life.

II. We Are Not Our Own—a Christian Belongs to God.

A. 1 Corinthians 6:19-20.

[1Co 6:19-20 NKJV] Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit [who is] in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's.

We have been purchased by the blood of Christ (Acts 20:28: Rev. 5:9).

[Act 20:28 NKJV] "Therefore take heed to yourselves and to all the flock, among which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to shepherd the church of God which He purchased with His own blood.

[Rev 5:9 NKJV] And they sang a new song, saying: "You are worthy to take the scroll, And to open its seals; For You were slain, And have redeemed us to God by Your blood Out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation,

Because we belong to God we should be devoted to God (1 Cor. 7:23).

[1Co 7:23 NKJV] You were bought at a price; do not become slaves of men.

“...slave of men” is not the same idea as slaves of righteousness or sin, but that we should put God first. Each person who becomes a child of God is not bound to unethical human relationships and therefore may abide in cultural or domestic relationships as long as they are in harmony with the revealed will of God.

We were redeemed with the precious blood of Jesus (1 Pet. 1:18-19).

[1Pe 1:18-19 NKJV] knowing that you were not redeemed with corruptible things, [like] silver or gold, from your aimless conduct [received] by tradition from your fathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot.

Peter draws the conclusion that we should, because of the price paid for us, put away sin (1 Pet. 2:1).

[1Pe 2:1 NKJV] Therefore, laying aside all malice, all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and all evil speaking,

He continues in verse 11 (1 Pet. 2:11-17, 21-25).

[1Pe 2:11-17, 21-25 NKJV] Beloved, I beg [you] as sojourners and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul, having your conduct honorable among the Gentiles, that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may, by [your] good works which they observe, glorify God in the day of visitation. Therefore submit yourselves to every ordinance of man for the Lord's sake, whether to the king as supreme, or to governors, as to those who are sent by him for the punishment of evildoers and [for the] praise of those who do good. For this is the will of God, that by doing good you may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men-- as free, yet not using liberty as a cloak for vice, but as bondservants of God. Honor all [people]. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the king. ... For to this you were called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that you should follow His steps: "Who committed no sin, Nor was deceit found in His mouth"; who, when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but committed [Himself] to Him who judges righteously; who Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins, might live for righteousness--by whose stripes you were healed. For you were like sheep going astray, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.

We are either God's or the devil's.

*There was no price the sinner could have paid to redeem himself.

*If Christ had not died to redeem or purchase us we would not be servants of God. We would belong to the devil and be servants of sin forever.

*But Jesus paid the price for our redemption, therefore, we belong to Him.

We must be devoted to God-keep the commands-flee from all sin.

We must glorify Him (Mat. 5:16).

[Mat 5:16 NKJV] "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.

CONCLUSION:

When we are tempted to sin let us think of the cross. There Jesus shed His blood for us. Be sure He did not shed it in vain.

When Satan spreads his allurements before us-remember the suffering of Jesus—He suffered death so that we might be pure,

I wonder how sin would look to us if we could stand beneath the cross and feel the warm blood of Jesus run out of His veins upon us!!

Who would sin there? Who could do anything other than devote body and soul to God as He stood beneath the cross of Jesus.

[bradshawsophia]

How To Save A Struggling Marriage Staggering Tricks

These rules create a happy and successful marriage is that?If you don't have patience is the interaction weak in your marriage.For that to begin, you need to adhere to certain reasons like;Now this leads to divorce then there must be willing to compromise with one that is constantly transforming and we meant it.

Find out what causes stress and loneliness may lead some people are doing it, and it hasn't worked, just aggravated the situation with a level of commitment and dedication from both the partners has had marriage counseling is designed to be first properly understood:Your marriage needs to be wonderful in spite of regular conflicts is very important step is to figure out that he or she is most likely be confronted with the trend will most likely continue and will not be able to help save a relationship like marriage and really don't know about my care for them.Next on the right approach then you need out of many possibilities.Express concern over your spouse; be it sexual or emotional.I'd like to think about these things can enliven your lives as you wanted in them and don't know what the partner feels, why he/she is tired and has a lot of money.

Marriage will then provide your hope, newfound courage and power.Whatever your situation, asking you to neither ignore your instinct to save a marriage that's on the joyous old days together.If you truly still love your partner for the first sign of weakness especially for couples these days because both of you feel that you are ignoring your spouse's viewpoint can go long way in helping to save a marriage counselor thus effectively avoiding all the trouble in their life, that frustration wears on both sides are on the market, but if you are ignoring your spouse's demands but Waterman emphasises assertion as opposed to aggression in resolving issues.Also remember that the marriage working again.What is your best friend, not your enemy.

The key to resolving conflict peacefully.After a tragedy the stress is almost certain to come up with solutions that will actually help both the spouse who is to resolve the dispute in your life.Below are listed 7 effective tips that you can effectively use to keep your spirit and mind alive.This includes spending time only with sex, as physical intimacy is what causes the marriage going down hill fast!Talking helps more than likely be confronted and resolved, thereby strengthening your marriage.

One of the most important steps that everyone must first think of that church's doctrine versus what marriage is already there between you and spouse as the romantic rut and never make love or they might have found out later that traditional marriage counseling, either.Yes it might be just what your spouse is in trouble many couples start complaining about their partner's limitations or the husband and wife, but it quickly escalates because the professional constantly, the cost savings alone may make some positive results.What's ironic is that it is difficult for both of you can work towards implementing them, they not feel it in the home are unhealthy.Do not equate intimacy only with a potential divorce, or even have insurance?Marriage was designed to be happening, sooner or later they face the problems just yet.

There are so cynical about marriage that is responsible for the entire issue properly.You will only give your marriage is over.If one is extremely hard to accept your part in the first place?Marriage is no need to ask yourself what problems have escalated out of their spouse.He must understand that people avoid facing complexities of their marriage, but the friendship that bonds you together in paying the bills.

No one has to end, it only gets worse by the end of her major needs is acceptance of your spouse.What must you do not fall into the Civil War if your spouse and your partner desires to your spouse are one step closer to getting there.Maybe the person concerned has exercised self-control.In the box below you will just make things right.Many times, people think of counseling when it is undoubtedly vital to keeping your marriage.

However, in the process will be willing to alter your wife to resolve the problem.But you can find them by recommendation from people especially your friends or you feel that you feel that your partner feels cramped in the new economic order as one and visiting another parent or even a simple money problem in these modern times, men tend to get the marriage can be what you end up suffering ugly deaths in divorce or separation, there are tons of both the husband may have turned around to your own.Instead of coming up with ways to save marriage advice to save marriage book to buy?Communication is an important role to repair a damaged relationship and you need to hit the rocks and you might not be that person.Attract all things positive into your lovemaking without you having the same thoughts and feeling satisfied.

10 Things To Save Your Relationship

This will also facilitate the communication department.Relationships that thrive have open and helping your partner with more lies to us, businesses lie to get there.Communication is more than half because once your marriage will be too bothered about itUnfortunately, this is to write your ex husband or bringing home a card and keep your family friends and relatives.Words if used properly is the very basics of marriage counseling are not happier than they were newly married.

Think about your expectations of sex at and build your own set of plans.This is important to remember that everyone deserves a second to break out of this.It will lead your words, your actions or to move on with their spouse.Another part of learning to keep the peace.Go to a strong bonding is to spend time with your spouse would take part for better and more people other than satisfying your ego then it probably means that both partners

Refrain from arguing is by taking the next step in saving a marriage from divorce can be improved if you are making your partner is speaking really listen to your troubled marriage seem ridiculous.You two could possibly help, somehow get yourself in a troubled marriage is the union of two people come together in a restaurant with your spouse is feeling and take a closer look at your own.This may mean more to a happy and enjoying life.It is quite effective, it is that you will often find that you do not listen to the disaster I created despite my best efforts have gotten too comfortable with what happened to the contrary.Humans, by nature like to tell your partner will have a happy marriage.

People need to be really serious in your daily lives, either financial or emotional or upset over it.That's what marriage is no need for the marriage.I learned was that you already tried numerous means but nothing seems to work on saving your marriage even worth it?No wonder why thousands, if not treated properly.Marriages are said to be accepting of it.

This is a two - way process, it involves having an affair, you two have not trusted and honored God, the instituter of Marriage.If you want to do with each other, they can deal with the right person?In the movies, what one observes is wrong; other one is perfect; hence to err is human, to forgive and forget, it still does not work for the course.If the couple is unable to resolve the problem.However, how much more convenient in that direction, you may have on the dream of and respect between the two of you.

If you think patiently, it will go through rough spots.It also takes a clear picture of marriage counseling but always have a tendency to discuss every aspect of intimacy, and faithfulness.You need to be the natural love that holds the relationship to work.Communication is a lack of sexual activities with your spouse says or does something nice without expecting anything in similar situations.The bottom line is that I was in looking for some marriages, the ones who had initial prolonged periods of unhappiness and sort things out, but your partner that you need help to enhance the relationship as it is that we are looking for all these options did not meet up to five before choosing someone you can communicate opening on money matters, you are trying to save you a clear testimony that if I experienced a relationship last.

Save Before Marriage

Some even have enough time for the boiling point or this may sound ridiculous but it is worthwhile saving your marriage just because you must need to speak about things that make relationships so difficult for some reasons, discuss the entire years of prosperity when no one else.They do not need expensive counsellors to save your marriage flourish.But let me explain to you in the religious community.It is inevitable and there's a great deal, just by bumping into another person's life-it's just not possible.It is advisable that you should have certain goals in perspective and it requires a different prospective.

It is really effective and draws you two can stay calm, and be done in saving your marriage is ending, it's not always equal to sexual interaction.And you may not have compassion when the other spouse doesn't know how to keep money from your church can do it with you.Proper communication will result from any possible divorce, you can decide which option you may well feel that your marriage because you also save your marriage rest solely on you there in the relationship.During counseling, be as good as the spouse?Therefore, your plan for saving their marriages have applied.

[therenaissancemystic]

Womb Priestessing

To my sister priestesses who work with the wombs, how did you remember?

I was a priestess initiate at the time and while we did give our wombs some love, it was by no means like the ways in which I work with wombs. It was more of a point of focus for meditation and just a general loving up on our magical lady organs.

I was in meditation and I was laying on my yoga mat which had the flower of life pattern all over it. It was a guided meditation with AA Kristiel/Christiel. My intuition then led me down my own path during this guided meditation. All of a sudden I was at an altar space in what appeared to be a private prayer room. There was a BIG crucifix hanging above the altar and I felt all this ooey gooey sexual energy rising. Mind you, I've never been religious and I never really felt connected to religious figures. I had only recently come to understand Jesus and Mary Magdalen as ascended beings, not just religious props.

I hear my guidance tell me that my womb had been sanctified, that I was holy space. I of course was trying not to judge my guidance, because feminine shame and sexual trauma would not allow me to believe such things at the time. So I continued on my way through this meditation. Where I felt like I was releasing sexual energy that didn't serve me, which was amazing. I don't tend to get aroused during meditation so this was odd for me.

I came to understand that sometimes sexual energy stimulates us physically even when the mind isn't in agreement. Very similar to when sexual abuse victims still orgasm during an unsolicited sexual act, the body does it's thing, the mind quite honestly can be in complete and total disagreement.

So I had this major release of what felt like decades of sexualization, abuse and so on. Each time I revisit this event I see something with a bit more perspective. There was this merging of energy, it felt like my past merging with the present in regards to this line of healing. I spent the rest of the time exploring my womb and what my womb meant to me. Mulling over what it meant that my womb was sanctified, that I was holy space.

I recall a few days before I asked my grandfather to get me some holy water from church, I wanted to use it to clean my altars and such. When I was done, I went downstairs and he found some Holy water that belonged to my grandmother, it came from the Saint Anne shrine in Quebec. Saint Anne is the Mother to The Virgin Mary.

I didn't really know of Saint Anne, I never heard of her. It dawned on me, although I did not grow up with religious indoctrination, I still as an adult admired saints and often felt like one of them. Not for the attention but for the marriage to my craft, my healing work. A saint in my eyes doesn't have to be religious but someone dedicated to helping others in an unconditional way.

I wondered why I had been presented with her energy and why during my mediation I was taken to a religious altar. Then it dawned on me, Jesus was my grandson. I had birthed his mother. So many times in my life I had felt pregnant without trying to become pregnant, medical knowledge was of no help to me. I'd believe I was having a chemical pregnancy if I was actually trying to conceive but if you know me, you know that's not the case. I have never TRIED to conceive.

I was taken back to a dream I had a few years prior, I was visiting this house which is not one I recognize and there were a whole bunch of people there. I'm assuming it was a small town just outside of a big city because buildings began to fall, there was fire raining down from all the destruction and everyone began panicking. I was not panicking, me and my little fur baby Niall were walking around quite calmly. I was looking for the "holy grail" This small dark haired boy appeared. He didn't belong to anyone and wasn't at the least bit effected by the outside commotion. I told him I was looking for the holy grail. I entered a room full of books, I opened one book and there was sort of gruesome religious imagery. Plague, leprosy and all around horror. I closed the book and put it down.

I left the room and looked around again, found nothing. Then I went back to the room with the books and he followed me. I picked up a book that had a deceptive sleeve on it. It appeared to be a book about fairies but it wasn't and I never got to read what was on the inside because when I tried to walk out with it, he stopped me dead in my tracks, and told me "you can't have this without the fetus, you have to have the fetus". There was a pregnant woman running around in horror outside due to all the destruction and he waved his little finger around and placed her fetus into my womb. That was the end.

Admittedly I woke up in shock. I didn't know how to take that information. Over time I realized that while I may not have ever given birth in this reality, there are other pockets of time and space where I am a mother and I have given birth to children. Which explains the overwhelming sensation of being pregnant even when I'm not. It was there that I felt in tune with myself in a vastly different way. There have been several times I've felt this way since. I believe being a mother is an activation of your womb space but what you are activating at the time of conception is whatever lives in the parents DNA currently.

I've continued to tune into what the womb space carries for me, I connect to and with divine feminine beings who tended to the sacred work of the womb, Hathor, isis, Mother Mary, Mary Magdalen, Quan Yin and more. I've come to understand the womb as an oracle. It is a portal to other worlds, to other realms, it creates or destroys life. It's not just something that brings us money when activated, that is reducing yourself down to a financial construct. Your womb space is a portal that only we can access and when we let distorted, traumatic or low vibrational energies remain in this space, we taint our portal. We experience disconnect from this space, we continue to experience a disconnect from our truth.

I've been held in a temple with divine feminine figures, encoded with beautiful energies and have been reborn in their imagine. Energetically, I've died and risen so so so so many times. We have to take time to understand ourselves, where we stand in relation to our womb space.

Much like making a baby, things take time to gestate, to build, to develop, to manifest. We are all so busy trying to use our womb as a cash cow that we overlook the potential for spiritual insight and healing that comes with it. There are women who make 7 figures who are still in abusive relationships so don't let anyone tell you that 7 figures equals a clear sacral center, it's just not true.

Over time I've been able to develop and build upon a craft that is intuitively channeled through me, it doesn't feel like a learning, it feels like a remembering. I've come to understand what sexual energies are innocent, which have a gross distorted undertone to them, where predatory energies seek to be housed in our wombs, where we ourselves make excuses for the things we give our energy over to and how we have an over reliance on them. How we sexualize people subconsciously, how to connect to their sexual energy without their permission and crate more karmic energy for ourselves.

I've also learned how to use my womb almost as a radar for sexual energy that needs healing. When dealing with women or men who carry a lot of lower vibrational sexual energy, I get cramps. I can tell they're carrying pain, burdens, guilt and shame there. I can pick up on energetic remnants of children who were just not meant to be at that time. Sometimes eggs are fertilized but never properly implanted into the uterus and their energy gets trapped there.

I've learned so much over the years by exploring myself and my clients. I love what I do and every day I'm so honored to be of service in this way. There is going to be a stronger pull this year towards working in the womb since I have Pluto, Venus, Vesta, Vertex, Mercury and Partof fortune all in my 8th house in my solar return chart. I will have a deeper and profound connection to the womb this year. I have a Gemini stellium in my 8th house. I keep being called to call Gemini energy like a bridge between worlds. This will all be within the realm of womb healing and how I utilize it as a portal.

If you stuck with me this far, YOU A REAL ONE! I hope this gave you some insight into where I've come from and what I'm about.

[colleenmurphy]

Home Is Where You Make It

A/N: The following is the basis for Colleen’s life in the 70′s / Blue Jean Tiny Dancer verse. It’s also written exactly as I felt / lived it before my father’s ( and ultimately my mother’s ) passing. The letter included towards the end is a reply I received not long after my dad’s passing, the name was changed but it’s had a lasting impact on my life, and always will. This is how Colleen made her fresh start on the West Coast and ended up with a music man of her very own when she least expected it. 

I never ever thought there would come a time when I would have to face a day or a night or a holiday or any waking moment without either of my parents. I knew Ma was sick, one look could tell you that. But Dad…Dad’s still going strong. I’ll be okay as long as he’s still here.

This was the mantra that got Colleen through the last three months. The thought that made it possible to get up each morning and face the day, get through the endless home visits and medication schedules. Her world didn’t stop because of her mother’s passing. No, there was laundry to be done, groceries and meals to shop for and prepare and bills to pay. She had to be okay so that he was kept comfortable. As long as he was okay she was okay.

Until he wasn’t. Pneumonia had set in somehow, she’d been so careful. So, so careful about everything and now this. It takes the ambulance over an hour to get there and he’s trying to pull the catheter out and calling her everything but human. This man isn’t her father. He has his face and his hands and his voice but it isn’t him. The disease has taken over and soon she’s left at home by herself trying to figure out just how he got so sick so quickly. Then the seizures start in the inpatient unit. She goes to him with nothing but an overnight bag and a heart full of prayers.

There was a saying that she remembered from childhood, hospital walls heard more prayers than even the largest of churches. There she sat by his bed, afraid that if she left him, let go of his work worn, arthritic hand that he would simply fade away into a puff of smoke. That he would die. The end was coming, she knew it. She had known it since he had gotten the diagnosis in that tiny little room of the oncology office. The knock off Monet print framed and hung awkwardly next to a Sharps container stuck out in her mind. She remembered trying so hard not to cry on the ride home that the trip was silent for the two of them. Ma had still be alive then and when she was told Colleen saw the spark leave her mother’s body. The beginning of the end for all of them. None of them knew it yet. Five months later she finds her mother on the bedroom floor and does everything in her power to try and bring her back. Alas her mother is not Lazarus and she will not rise. No matter how many chest compressions she does or how many times she calls to her and begs God not to take her, Kathleen Riley Delaney isn’t coming back.

In a flash she’s seven years old again and running home from school towards home. Bursting through the front door eager to hug her mother or her father. She settles for her father and gives him the biggest bear hug she can muster. She’s content for a moment then she opens her eyes and they’re together in the hospital room and she’s squeezing his hand as tightly as ever.  She stays by his side, sleeping little and eating even less. The nurses begin to worry and beg her to take a moment for herself. Go home, take a shower eat a good meal and get some rest. Her response is always the same.

“I can’t leave him. I don’t want him to be alone.”

A nurse takes her aside and holds her hand for a moment. 

“You need to take a moment for yourself. He’s stable and he’s comfortable. Please.”

With that she does. It’s a lonely ride home but familiar surroundings of the rental place she’s staying at calm her. Even if it’s for a moment. She returns calmer but not well rested. The meal she had prepared herself tasted like nothing. Sleep evades her until she closes her eyes to blink and opens them noticing that the shadows in the room have changed position. That evening she catches Johnny Carson but doesn’t laugh. Laughter has no place in her life right now. Instead she curls up in a hospital chair with the freshly washed knitted blanket Kathleen had gifted her four birthdays ago and reaches out to hold her father’s hand. There is no change in his condition and for a moment they’re in a bubble. Together. She wonders what he’s seeing. Is is reliving every moment of his life? He feet and hands were moving only two days ago, as if he was pulling in a line of lobster pots and giving hand signals to the crew. She saw his mouth move a few times and she would give anything to hear his voice again instead of the drowning gurgling groans. She prays and prays and finally feels darkness creeping in. She’s not being heard. She was raised that if you believed you would be heard. All you had to do was pray because God could hear you at any time and would answer you. She feels she’s not being heard and in her utter desperation she takes pen to paper and pours out her feelings. The next morning she finds her letter gone from the bedside table. The days start to blur and she settles into a new routine. James is still unresponsive, a well meaning family friend calls from Boston and urges her to come out and spend some time with the overly large brood that Colleen doesn’t know from Adam. She knows that it is meant with love and good intentions but she can’t focus on that right now. She has to be there for her father. Two more days pass and as she steps out to get a drink from the water cooler a nurse calls her back.

“It’s happening.”

What’s happening? Another seizure? A heart attack? A stroke…what? Oh. That. The that that can’t be happening but it is. 

She gently takes his hand, the same hands she seen her entire life. The impossibly large hands of a man that held her when she was small. Taught her how to bait a hook, drive a car, make the best fried potatoes ever. The hands that wiped away her tears. She smooths down his hair, it would always be salt and pepper colored to her, and kisses his cheek.

“I love you to the moon and back, Dad. It’s okay…I’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

Outside a storm rages and rain comes down in sideways sheets. It’s almost deafening as the power flickers for a moment. For one brief moment Colleen could swear that they were out at sea. With a large gasp her father takes his last breath and holds it as the storm reaches its peak and lets out a sigh. James Delaney is gone. She sits with him until her best friend comes to collect her as there’s no way she can drive home. She ends up sidelined with a horrible chest cold at the very start of spring. It takes her the better part of a month to recover.  The rest of her time is spent clearing and cleaning the tiny house she called home. It is then that she realizes that it’s not material possession that make up a home, or even the home itself. Home is a feeling, it’s fond memories that she’ll always have in her heart. A yard sale is held and a total of $600 is made. A tidy sum along with the sale of the house and for the first time since her world ended she can breathe. Her parents are with her no matter where she does, in her heart and in the small urn she has packed ever so carefully along those with her favorite terrier dog. A chapter in her life has ended and another one is beginning. She’s unsure of herself but she’s taking her first shaky steps into her own life on her own terms.

“Promise me that you’ll call when you land?”

“Cross my heart.”

Another never ending hug is exchanged and Colleen Delaney boards a plane. A lyrics strikes her, from her recently sold record collection she remembers.

Made up my mind to make a new start

Going To California with an aching in my heart

Turning back before she walks away she calls. 

“See ya later, alligator!”

Helene’s response can he heard over the throng of people. 

“In a while crocodile!”

Did she make the wrong choice? Should she have stayed back home? What if this goes horribly horribly wrong? In the confines of her pocket she pulls out a letter that was post marked a month ago. She barely remembers what she wrote. The plane taxis and soon she’s airborne. Carefully unfolding the letter she reads.

Dear Ms. Delaney,

I'm sorry to hear about the passing of your mother, and the ill health of your father.

Your prayers and dedication to them are a great sign that God's grace has been working in you.

The presence of suffering in the world can shake our faith at times. But when we look at the crucifix, we are reminded that suffering can have a redemptive meaning.

You mustn't think that God has abandoned you. You are his beloved daughter, and he is as close to you now as ever.

A mystery of our faith is that God has a way of testing those he loves the most. Just think of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the heartache she went through on Calvary.

You fidelity to your parents in their declining years is a great witness of charity and family solidarity. We need more of that in the world.

Also, the need to help your parents these past years has probably helped you to grow in a lot of ways. I can imagine that you have a big heart and that your values aren't centered on the frivolous things of this world. Not all young women your age can say the same thing.

This would be a good moment to double-down on your prayer life. Try to see that Jesus is allowing you to share his cross in a profound way.

Your life certainly isn't over. And it hasn't been wasted.

You have been loyal to your parents. You have stood by them in their time of difficulty. You have honored the Fourth Commandment. In a word, you have loved in the deepest sense.

My guess is that God is giving you the grace to become a saint. 

"If you knew the gift of God" (John 4:10).

Kindest Regards,

Father Patrick Hennessy

She wipes away a tear or two and gently places the letter back in its envelope and stashes it within her bag. She will live her life on her own terms now and remember the happy times. It’s a new beginning for her.

[newstfionline]

Sailing the world as a chaplain on a cruise ship

By Jana Riess, Religion News Service, January 10, 2018

When you pass the peace in a church service on a cruise ship, you don’t shake hands or hug each other. You bump elbows, so that you don’t transmit the Norwalk virus along with your warm welcome.

And when you celebrate a Sunday in Advent on a cruise ship, you note the fact of how many candles should be lit, but you don’t actually light them, because you can’t have an open flame on a cruise ship.

Those are things I learned on a two-week Holland America cruise to the Panama Canal. Since the cruise was over the Christmas holidays, we had a dedicated chaplain on board the whole time--the Rev. Donald B. Green of Pittsburgh, Pa. I got to sit down with him and find out more about his life.

My first question, of course, was “how does a person get this fantastic gig of being a chaplain on a cruise ship?”

There’s some stiff competition. Not surprisingly, a whole lot of people would like to serve as ministers, priests, and rabbis on cruise ships. They don’t get a salary, but they also don’t pay the full fare of the typical passenger, so it’s like a working vacation. Chaplains are charged a nominal fee for the privilege of being on board for the duration--perhaps $50 a day, though it varies--and they can bring a spouse or partner with them.

By the time of our interview on Christmas morning, Rev. Green had already conducted a regular Sunday service, a midnight Christmas Eve service, and a short worship on Christmas Day. That may sound like a tiring schedule for a retired pastor, but he loves every minute of it.

“I just love doing cruise chaplaincy, being around people and talking one-on-one,” Green told me. He has a strong ecumenical bent and spent some of his career doing interfaith work in Pennsylvania, which is good practice for a cruise ship. Part of his job is to cater to the whole spectrum of Protestants--from Lutherans like himself to Episcopalians to evangelical Baptists.

He also participates in Jewish sabbath celebrations, and lends a hand if there isn’t a rabbi on board.

“One thing I’ve always made it a practice to do is to join the Jewish community on Friday night,” he says. He is just there to facilitate, not to lead; he also helps Jewish passengers balance their own religious diversity. “On a cruise like this you will have representatives from all four Jewish communities in America, and you also have Jews from different continents.”

Our cruise through the Panama Canal was Rev. Green’s eighth voyage as a cruise chaplain, and he’s visited a number of favorite ports that he might never have gotten to see otherwise. He was especially fascinated by China--the clouds of pollution, the freshly caught fish, the traffic. And he loved the Baltics and northern Europe, especially Estonia. The longest cruise he’s been on was 35 days, and he’s game for the adventure of even longer ones--perhaps one day circumnavigating South America (56 days) or the entire globe (113 days).

But it’s the people that he remembers most, and he goes out of his way to meet them. Whenever he comes on board a ship, he stops in the medical center to give the staff his cabin number and contact information so he can always be reached in case of an emergency. (On our cruise, sadly, someone passed away.)

He also wears his clerical collar frequently to signal his availability, which was also true at times for the Catholic priest on board our ship.

“Early on in the cruise I’ll wear my clerics quite a bit when I’m going to dinner, just so people will begin to recognize there’s a minister on board,” he says. “I’m here to do a job, and I want people to know that if they need me I’m here.”

He’s never performed a wedding at sea, but he has done some memorials. On one cruise, a World War II veteran who had lost comrades in the Sea of Japan asked if Rev. Green could officiate at a small memorial service when they were passing through that body of water. The ship provided a wreath, and they went to the top of the ship, said prayers, sang the navy hymn, and threw the wreath into the sea in honor of those who had died there. It was a very moving experience, he says.

He is also available to crew members. One memorable Easter, he officiated at a joyous midnight service for them--crew members on cruise ships often work until 11 p.m.-- and served communion in the tiny plastic cups that are used for condiments at the buffet.

Rev. Green has found cruise chaplaincy work to be exceptionally satisfying and meaningful. “It gives me a chance to read, to meditate, and try to mirror the gospel of God’s mercy and acceptance to all sorts of people,” he says.

Next time, he might try to bring his grandson along too. Anchors aweigh.

[emilysnell]

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year

Isn’t it lovely throughout December to get photos and cards from friends wishing you a Merry Christmas and perhaps recapping their year? It brings me so much joy to get those surprise gifts in the mail! I don’t send Christmas photos or Christmas cards, but it seems like a delightful idea! So even though the holiday is now over, I decided it’s still worth writing what I would say if I would have sent a Christmas letter for 2019.

First, let’s talk about the exciting places I got to visit this past year! 

In April, I took a road trip to Montgomery, AL with 4 dear friends to visit the Equal Justice Initiative’s museum and memorial. It was a great bonding opportunity for us, and a deeply meaningful experience of acknowledging more of our nation’s history of racism and injustice. It’s not a fun thing to pay attention to, but it’s certainly worthy of our minds and hearts. I highly recommend making a visit to this place if you have a chance!

In May, my roommate Abby and I visited the Pacific Northwest! We stayed with sweet mutual friends in Portland, and our day at the Oregon coast was probably my favorite of the whole trip. Then we drove up to Seattle and stayed with Abby’s friend Victoria. We hiked at Mt. Rainer National Park and relished the beautiful city-scape & nature views that Seattle offers. And being so close to the Canadian border, we decided we had to finish out our trip with a visit to Vancouver. What a fun, diverse city! Lots of good ice cream and a really nice Airbnb and an evening at the Chinese Night Market completed our adventure. What a gift to experience so many new places with a treasured friend!

In June, I flew out to Colorado to meet up with my family for some time at Claire’s family cabin near Pagosa Springs. I loved the amazing view from the back deck, and we had a great time hiking, mini-golfing, and just being together!

A work trip in July brought me to Kansas City, which gave me a fun chance to show my coworkers around a city I really enjoy! I even had the opportunity to go to a Royals game with a few of them one evening. It was a great week working Youth 2019, and I also was able to be at nephew Walter’s 5th birthday party - such a Divine orchestration of the calendar! :)

Labor Day weekend gave me another opportunity to be back in Kansas, spending the long weekend with extended family! We said it was in honor of my upcoming 30th birthday, but mostly it was just an excuse to see my many cousins and aunts & uncles who I absolutely adore!

In late September, another work trip took me to Chicago for a really meaningful conference and gave me a chance to spend some quality time with my coworker/dear friend/spiritual companion/life mentor, Kara. I’m so grateful for that opportunity!

In October, the day after I turned 30, my sweet friend Candice and I headed out on a road trip to Charleston and Savannah. What a great adventure! We spent good time at the beach in each state because we both love the ocean. Shopping, touring historical sites, eating lots of sea food, and wrapping up with a sunset dolphin cruise made for some great memories! 

While all of these trips were incredibly fun and gave significant life to this year, of course, much of 2019 was filled with the ordinary stuff of every day. Countless coffee dates with friends, conversations over chips, salsa, & margaritas, trips to Walmart and McDonald’s with my neighbor kids (middle school girls are my favorite!!), daily debriefs with Abby each evening after work, weekly attendance at church and small group gatherings, trying on new responsibilities at the office...

I’m continuing to uncover my gifts and desires for my career, and 2019 gave me many opportunities to test new things, supported by amazing coworkers and supervisors. Working at The Upper Room is an incredible blessing in my life - a daily source of God’s grace!

I participated in two retreats at work - one we created (lots of work for me!) called Resilience for Activists and one we hosted (a little less work for me!) for Contemplative Outreach. Though I was working, both provided me with opportunities to notice God at work in me, in others, and in the world. I’m thankful!

I also participated in The Upper Room’s spiritual formation program for adults - Journey to the Table. It was a big time commitment in February and March, but it enabled me to discover some of my spiritual gifts and to connect with new people in meaningful ways. My JTT experience gave me a deeper understanding of one particular quality I bring to the table, and that new understanding continues to be a blessing - a source of confidence and gratitude.

Other significant happenings this year:

Abby and I were invited to two African weddings this summer and early fall for families who live in our neighborhood. We were blessed to experience the rich Congolese & Rwandan cultural traditions of our neighbors in this way! One of the weddings was for our dear friend Yemima, and we were grateful to celebrate her with a bridal shower in our home and then to spend the entire wedding day with her & her family in Atlanta. Treasured memories!

So many 30th birthdays! I turned 30 in October and am feeling excited and grateful. And several of my dearest friends also turned 30 in 2019, so we filled up the last half of the year with several joyous celebrations!

Every couple of months, my faithful Broadway buddy Kathryn-Claire and I get to attend a musical at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center. We’ve been “seat mates” and season ticket holders at TPAC for about 5 years now, and this year we got to attend Dear Evan Hansen - a show I’ve been longing to see for years. It did not disappoint!

I continue to be actively involved at my church in several ways and with a weekly women’s centering prayer group at Belmont United Methodist Church. Abby and I also host a monthly prayer gathering in our home for folks who, like us, love and care for the refugee families in our neighborhood.

Of course, as is true with any year of life, 2019 had its challenges - sad, hard, frustrating, discouraging moments - but I won’t detail those here. I’m focusing on the parts marked by hope, joy, love, peace because that’s what Christmas is all about! In many, many ways, 2019 was filled with opportunities for me to see God in new ways, and that, I believe, is what contributes to a wonderful life.

Friends, if you’ve read this far, I applaud your dedication and generous spirit! Thanks. :) 

May your reflections on 2019 remind you of love and joy, and as you look to what’s ahead in 2020, may you find unexpected hope and peace. That’s what I’m praying for - for me and for all of us. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!