#my ammi would never do this to me

[leighsartworks216]

Having never played Baldur's Gate 3 and through memes alone have come to know of Halsin's flirting and whatnot, I'm pretty sure my ace-always-flirting ass would get along great with him

Halsin: makes a genuine remark about someone's beauty, about bedding someone, etc

Me: responding in a way that seems genuine but is fully, 100% not

H: oh she's beautiful

Me: haha the things I'd let her do to me ammi right?

[nowayelle]

Whispers of destiny

Chapter 1

Wedding hells🔔

Bela's POV:

I'm a homebody, especially when it comes to avoiding weddings. People aren't really my scene. But hey, food? Now that's my jam. I rocked a pearl white dress with white scarf, and tauny brown khussa, feeling like my own version of Princess Jasmine. That's some serious self-love, right?

"Bit bright?" Aunty judged, rolling her eyes.

"Who?" I looked around innocently.

"Obviously, you, Bela!" She smirked firing back.

"Well, aunty pouring a white creamy sauce over brownie ever made brownie white? Or have you seen gulab jamun turning white upon pouring a sweet sauce? I fired back.

"You've got a point, but no one will marry you with that dark skin, beta," Aunty smirked, thinking she'd won.

"Thank God, I have dark skin, not a dark mind like them. So, that won't work out, Aunty. And please, don't worry about me." I laughed it off.

"No, beta, you're missing the point. White just doesn't suit you," Aunty persisted.

"I liked your 'Black Lives Matter' post on Facebook. Nice supporting black lives while bullying brown ones," I retorted, adjusting my hijab. Suddenly, aunty was saved by an imaginary caller - she vanished in seconds.

"Queenie, you dropped this," a teenage girl pretended to hand me a crown. We shared a laugh, that "don't-tell-us-what-to-do" kind. Meanwhile, the newlyweds exchanged glances while laughing.

Desi aunties, never letting up at weddings, always have something to say - weight, complexion, age, you name it. And don't get me started on their obsession with beauty remedies from YouTube channels predicting the world's end!

"Wait, let me guess, Samrina's daughter? All grown up!" Aunty excitedly guessed.

"Oh, Aunty, I remember you!" I tried to match her energy, figuring her out.

"Have you seen my mom?" I asked again.

"She was right there talking to a lady," she replied.

"Thank you so much!" I flashed a bright smile.

"Ammi," I grabbed her hand.

"Yes, beta? Is everything okay?" Ammi asked.

"Everything's fine, except me. I'm starving. When's the food?" I fake-cried.

Ammi chuckled. "What would people say? This girl's here only for food?"

"Exactly! You drag me to these events, and you know why I come." I narrowed my eyes playfully.

"What else can drag you out of your kingdom?" Ammi teased.

"Okay, let's eat something and go home," I suggested, heading to the buffet.

The spicy chicken tikka was so aromatic, blending perfectly with the environment. "Ready to go?" I wiped my mouth with a tissue.

"They'll say we were here just for food," Ammi joked.

"That's the truth. We were here for the food," I said, making an innocent face.

"Assalamualaikum, Aunty, how are you?" An unfamiliar voice interrupted.

"Wa alaikum assalam, Saad, beta," Ammi responded gently.

"Congratulations on your sister's wedding. They look good together," Ammi said, observing the couple.

"Jazakallah khayran, Aunty," he smiled.

I noticed some action that signaled a message between Ammi and me.

"Saad, uncle's looking for you," Hadeed interrupted.

As Saad hurried away, I couldn't help but notice his good sense of style, wearing white shalwar qameez, the classic Pakistani drama look. But I wasn't interested in checking him out. Whenever aunties ask me about what I look in a guy, I look away, i answer which always offends them.

As I adjusted my white embroidered dupatta, it got stuck somewhere. When I turned back, I saw him pulling away, and my dupatta got freed from his silver watch. My heart sank - what just happened? This was my choice of color today. How could someone with the same color scheme casually appear, and my dupatta get tangled in his stuff?

"Destiny?" I pondered. "Is this my Bollywood moment?"

"Haram, haram, haram," Mufti Menk's voice echoed. "Stop looking over there, stupid Bela."

"We gotta go," I grabbed Mom's hand, and we made our exit.

[heruntoldfeelingss]

"Where's Ammi?" is the only thing I asked everytime I entered home because what's home without you, Ammi. I've been homesick since you left, I've been yearning to hear your voice, calling out my name from the next room. This place , our home, all of us were dependent on you- we don't know how to function without you. You were the answer to all our questions. I would be lying if I say that I still do not search for you everytime I enter home and when I realise that you're not here, there's this sudden ache in my chest- losing you has been the most painful thing that I've ever had to experience in this life. Until you were here, I was safe in your arms, I was at peace. Losing you has left me restless, Ammi. Eid is around the corner and i remember how you used to be so worried about all the preparations and made sure everything is done before time. Eid for me was always waking up to your face and eating the most delicious delicacies that you made and how everything was according to what everyone likes. Nobody can ever do all of this the way you did it , Ammi. Without you, everything tastes bland, life too. Eid for me was you letting me apply henna on your hands even if I spoilt it and how you flaunted it to everyone around saying "Look, my daughter applied". Eid for me was being around you, Ammi. Eid will never be the same without you, Ammi. This heart can bear anything and everything but not the pain of losing you, Ammi.

[beblessed]

He Loves You Still (Part 1)

Based on Hosea Chapter 1 -2 (Mostly 2)

The book of Hosea opens up with God speaking to Israel through his servant Hosea. He commands Hosea to go and marry Gomer, a prostitute. Wild, yea I know, but it gets better. Go then tells Hosea that some of her children will be conceived in prostitution. This was to illustrate how Israel was acting like a prostitute and worshipping other gods, mainly baal (not capitalized on purpose).

Hosea marries Gomer and they have three children. Gomer is still promiscuous during this time. All the names of their children were given to Hosea directly from God. This speaks to the true love and heart of God that when he names something, he gives it identity and purpose. That purpose may take time to manifest but it will come to pass. God says to call the first son “Jezreel,” because God was going to punish the house of Jehu for the massacre at Jezreel and “put an end to the kingdom of Israel.” Let me just say that, this name appears to have nothing to do with the baby. Hosea and Gomer conceive again and give birth to a daughter and the Lord told Hosea to “Call her Lo-Ruhamah (which means “not loved”).” God said that he would no longer show love to the people of Israel or forgive them. I need to know Hosea’s reactions to these names and their meanings. However, I’m assuming he had no problems or issues with the names otherwise it would’ve been recorded. Hosea and Gomer have a second son who the Lord said to call “Lo-Ammi (not my people), for Israel is not my people and I am not their God.” 🙃😮 At the end of chapter one God tells Hosea that Judah and Israel will reunite and He will restore Himself to His people. This was an interesting time for God to make a promise.

Chapter 2 is where it goes down. Seriously, stop right now and go read Hosea 2:1-8, this will help as you keep reading this post. COME BACK after you finish! God starts likening the people of Israel to an unfaithful wife. Hosea can understand and relate to these words from God because he is literally a living example. God begins to admonish the people of Israel for turning their back on Him and turning to other gods. Here we see the true love and faithfulness of God, even when His people don’t reciprocate that love. He continued to bless them. Israel was consumed by the “good” they thought they were getting while in their sin. They couldn’t even see that the pleasure from their sin was void and empty. This is how sin keeps us in a never ending cycle. We get full of our sin for a moment and then we’re left feeling empty and we run right back to that sin. The cycle continues until God in His faithful and unfailing love steps in.

As I’m reading, I’m asking myself “where is the love in this?” Then I get to verse 6, where God says He will block their path with with a wall of thorn bushes. Isn’t it amazing how God can love us so much when we aren’t even thinking about Him. He loves us so much that he would put thorn bushes on the side of our path to keep us on the right path and deter us from getting on the wrong one. When we steer off the path towards God and encounter those thorn bushes they hurt and the enemy will try distract us and get us to blame God for trying to hurt us. When actually, it’s God’s love trying to get our attention and let us know we are going the wrong way. Not following God comes with scars, the good thing about scars is that they do heal. Praise God for the thorn bushes in our lives!

God continues on in his infinite wisdom and love about not allowing her (Israel) to catch the lovers (other gods) she runs after or searches for. Israel will then realize that “I might as well return to my first husband (God), for I was better off with Him than I am now.” God will eventually expose the emptiness and weakness of the things we put before Him. This was symbolic of Israel returning to God after understanding the blessing they thought was coming from baal, was actually from God all along. The whole time Israel was praising baal and giving sacrifices and gifts to it. God is so unselfish, kind and loving that He STILL provided for His people though they wanted nothing to do with Him. How many times do we take what God has blessed us with and give it to the god or thing we put before Him? How often do we disrespect our Heavenly Father by giving someone or something else the praise and glory for the provision He made? God’s love for us is truly unconditional. God used Hosea’s relationship with Gomer to mirror His love toward us.

When we misuse the gifts from God, He will sometimes take them away. Not to punish us for the sin we are in but He wants us to expose that sin or situation that we are putting before Him for what it really is, fake and deprived. He puts us in a “wilderness” so we can see that the source of the problem is where we are putting our focus and energy and that it was Him sustaining us all along, when we didn’t deserve it. I don’t know about you but this is where I start getting angry and upset with God. “Why did you leave me?” “God it’s your fault I’m in this mess because you left me here?” The problem isn’t that God left, the problem is that I made decisions and put other things before Him and He let me see how much I can actually trust them.

————

Think about the things in our daily lives we put before God? What might happen if God were to expose those things by removing His favor or blessings?

Ask God to help you identify those things we have in His place. Be ready for some changes in your life when you pray this prayer. It’s going to get real uncomfortable.

Stay Tuned for part 2…

Be Blessed

[purplesimmer455]

Iseul ordered a cake for the four of them as well, and asked Amna and Samuel about themselves. "How did you two lovebirds meet?" She said. Amna blushed, which Grace ribbed her for, and said, "Well, I was studying at Simford University and after a grueling study session, I went to the nearby Cafe to eat sugary sweets and relieve my stress." Iseul nodded. "I saw this rather handsome man around my age with brown hair and he was eating pastries and drinking coffee. I didn't know how to talk to boys, since my parents were strict on no dating, so I just would observe him." Amna blushed again as her husband gave her a teasing look. "But I got up the courage to talk with him, and he was so pleasant and kind, and I found out he was from Simerica but came here for work. I told him about growing up in Pakistan, and he told me about his childhood in Simerica, and we became friends. Eventually, I started to develop romantic attractions towards him." Iseul bit back a smile and nodded. "So I asked him to court me." At Iseul's confused look, she added. "I felt it was appropriate for him to court me, meet my parents, and then we could start going on chaperoned dates and eventually get engaged and married." Iseul nodded. It wasn't her cup of tea or something she'd want to do, but she respected it. "We ended up getting married, had our Gracie who we named after his mum, and the rest is history." Iseul smiled. "That's kind of sweet." She said. "I know it might seem old fashioned for you and Grace, being two modern youths." Amna said. Iseul shook her head. "No, no, I respect that it's what you wanted and felt comfortable with." She said, and Amna smiled.

Amna and Samuel insisted on paying for the bill, and then while Grace headed to the bathroom, Iseul turned to Amna. "Mrs. Siddiqui, I plan on marrying Grace one day, and I was wondering if I could I get your and Mr. Siddiqui's blessings?" Samuel nodded. "You have mine." He said, gently nudging his wife, who mulled it over. "You have my blessing too, Iseul." Amna said. Iseul sensed hesitation. "I would just prefer if you two marry before moving in or pursuing romantic attractions towards each other." Iseul blushed. "I understand, Mrs. S. Grace and I are taking it slow but I don't think we'll be ready to wed before we even live together and get to know each other, you know?" She said. Amna sighed but nodded, and Grace came out of the bathroom then. Grace put an arm around Iseul as they said goodbye to her parents. "Gracie, do you want me to drop you off at your place?" Her dad asked. "Oh." Grace blushed as Iseul tried to hide a grin. "Iseul's coming over to my flat so we're going back together." Her mom turned pink too and couldn’t look at Iseul, and Iseul tried hard not to laugh at the scandalized look on her face. "Mum, we're adults." Grace said half jokingly. "I know, bheta. I'm just not used to these modern dating things. Listen, auntie Nimra's daughter lives next door to you so just keep things private, I dont want her to think 'What all is Amna's daughter doing?' And tell her mother who will then ask me." She said. Grace rolled her eyes. "Ammi, she doesn't care what I do. She's a grown adult and mostly focused on her wife and daughter." Amna sighed. "Grace bheta, it's about tahzeeb, good manners. Whatever you and Iseul do in private is fine but it would reflect poorly on me and your father if you act too romantic in public while unmarried." She said. "Amna." Samuel said gently. "With all due respect, Mrs. Siddiqui, Grace would never disrepect you guys, and we haven't even woohooed, we just kissed. Plus, Homaira is pretty cool and she doesn't care if she sees us kissing, I mean she kisses her wife in public too." Iseul said. Amna sighed but smiled politely. "Alright. Well, it was nice meeting you, Iseul." Iseul smiled. "It was nice to meet you too, Mrs. Siddiqui, and you too, Mr. Siddiqui." Samuel smiled at Iseul. "You too, dear." He said, and Grace and Iseul headed out.

[aamirastories]

This is my first time writing, and I will probably go back and rewrite this once I have posted it all. I already have every Chapter lined up, so there will be regular content on this for anyone who is interested. Although this chapter does contain sexual content, it has intent that will be clear later. This is not erotica - it has adult themes throughout the story but few will be sexual in nature.

This will make a lot more sense as you read more into this!

Part 1

Ammy

May 3rd, 2033

A car hurtles past me, driving straight through the large pool of water that had gathered by the kerb. I stepped back but it was too late.

“Asshole!” I shouted after them. My feet were soaked. I sighed.

I went back to staring into the puddle, showing me a shimmering and swirling view of the Dubai skyline. The city was beautiful, there was no doubting it. Architecture of all shapes, lights of all colours, mesmerising to look at and I never got tired of it. One of the few beautiful things left in the world.

“Hi.” I hear a male voice say. I snap out of my trance and look at him, showing a polite smile.

“Are you Aamira?”, he adds.

“Yes”, I reply, nodding in response.

Aamira was the name my parents used. Everyone else called me Ammy, and I preferred it.

“My house isn’t far from here.”, he says, pointing down the street.

As we leave the cover of the bridge, rain pours down onto us both.

“So, is $200 okay?”, he asks me. I had no such thing as a ‘going-rate’, but I needed to pay rent and no-one was hiring me. Not even for the most mundane of tasks. It used to bother me doing this kind of work, but I had to lock that thought deep in my mind in hopes of never retrieving it.

“Sure, that’s fine” I reply, as we walk briskly towards his house, I hope he is right and it isn’t too far – I already feel a bead of cold water slowly moving down my back, causing my breath to quicken.

Around 300 metres later, I guessed, we arrived at his house. A terraced, 2-floor house, typical of the area and not in any ways extravagant but a ways more than functional. He opens the door and I follow him inside.

He shuts the door as I finish stepping through, and I am grateful for the shelter, and the warmth. He hangs his coat up and leaves me, and I hang mine up in an empty hook near to it, before taking off my shoes and stepping through. My socks squelched slightly, full of water from the idiot who decided to soak me, but I shrugged this off quickly.

As I step into the room, he is seated on a large couch next to another woman. In this light, I catch a better look at them both. Him, dark haired, slim build with an abundance of facial hair, I had guessed around 6’ from our walk to his apartment. The woman sitting next to him was a pretty brunette girl, shorter, and they were both dressed simply – him in a shirt and trousers, her in a skirt and simple blouse.

“Take a seat” he said, directing me to a chair near them both. “Would you like a glass of water?”

“I’m good, thank you” I replied. I’d had enough water for the night. And he was clearly stalling.

He turned to look at the woman next to him.

“This is my wife, she’s pretty isn’t she?”, he said, looking her up and down, and I nodded in agreement.

“She is” I replied, hoping he would cut to the chase real soon. This small talk always made things more awkward.

“Strip for her, honey” he said to her, and she leaned over and whispered something in his ear, looking somewhat nervous.

“It’s okay” he replied softly to her. “We need this, we know this is the only way.”

After another look at him, she looked at me and unbuttoned her blouse. She had a black bra on, a simple number, matching the rest of her outfit, nothing too extravagant. She sat up slightly and pulled down her skirt, before she was sat on the couch next to him, looking more nervous than she had done before.

I had seen this, seemingly a hundred times. It always went a similar way.

“I told you she was pretty, I bet you really want her don’t you?” he asked me.

“She is pretty, indeed. Does she want this though?” I replied.

“She does, yes. Now, can we see more of you?” he replied.

I was dressed in a turtle neck sweater, it being colder this winter than I had typically remembered. I pulled it off of me to reveal a white bra, nothing fancy. I briefly took a comparison of my breasts to hers and had figured mine were bigger. Although my body felt more of a tool than something I could enjoy these past years, I was proud of it, as much as I could be.

“Look honey, she’s really attractive.” The man said, looking me up and down. He liked the look of this tool it seems. It didn’t matter.

Accompanying my sweater was a set of simple blue jeans – I’d had these a few years and honestly they needed replacing, but they more than did the job and were comfortable after all the time I had them. I pulled them down, until I was dressed as much as his partner.

“And she looks big too, right?” he said, looking at my crotch. Now I felt shamed. An object. I had transitioned 10 years ago and had come to regret it as the years had gone on. Wishing I could go back and tell my past self of what would happen.

He stood up, and gestured for me to sit beside her. I took the cue and joined her. She did smell good. Her perfume caught my nose softly and I enjoyed the scent, and it actually brought a genuine soft smile to my face as I looked at her. She looked at me back and for a moment I felt we had a connection, albeit a small one. It was crushed when he said,

“Okay, might as well begin?”

I looked at her with a soft expression.

“Do you want this?”

He snapped at me, “Of course she wants this! Now begin!”

I closed my eyes and sighed internally. When I opened them, she had locked lips with mine, and I sunk into her kiss. Her tongue teased my lips and I grabbed her shoulders softly, her resting her hands on my hips. Her touch was ever so gentle. My hands on her were gentle too, I’d have hoped, and my thumb brushed her skin, which felt warm to the touch and her soft skin only served to make her feel more gentle.

I opened my mouth, and our tongues danced as my chest began to heave, my breath deepening, becoming lost in her. She moved her hands down to my thighs and I felt a tingle run from my abdomen down to my crotch, it beginning to stir as a result of it. I could smell her perfume more strongly now, only adding to the arousal and encouraging my hands to move down her shoulders and onto her waist. She moaned softly, her hands squeezing my thighs and the stirring only hastened. She had me in this moment.

I felt her shift slightly and opened my eyes, to see him behind her, unclasping her bra and letting it loose. I leant back from the kiss to take her in, for a moment. Her breasts were small but perky, her nipples clearly showing how aroused she was and I only guessed mine were the same. He moved behind me.

“No, she can do it.” I almost snapped at him. I moved back into kiss her.

As we resumed our dance, I felt her hands softly move behind my back, deftly removing it in one swift moment as I felt it move to my thighs. I discarded it and shuffled in closer to her. I felt a cold but gentle hand on my breast, and moaned softly.

“Ooh,” and giggled softly. It was like I had forgotten what I was here for, and I did not mind that in the slightest.

As she tweaked my nipple softly in her fingers, and kneading my breast slowly, I moved my hand up in response. Our movements were almost symmetrical, our hands wandering as we explored each other, before I felt my arousal almost disappear entirely.

“Yea, baby, feel her up good.” He said, and I didn’t even bother to look. I mentally shut him out and continued my exploration of her.

“Okay, underwear off girls” he added, and I almost told him to leave right there and then, then I remembered what happened the last time I did that. The bruises and black eyes meant I almost didn’t pay my rent for 2 straight months. It was only the kindness of strangers that even got me through, so I held myself short.

I pulled my underwear off and I was already fully erect. She followed me and we both looked down and back up at each other. She bit her lip and we resumed our kissing. I could hear him saying things but my mind had now become fully able to shut him out and focus entirely on her. She grasped my member softly and it twitched in response. I paused kissing her as I felt so sensitive to her touch that I could almost feel her fingerprint on it. We resumed our oral exploration and she began to stroke me every so slowly. I squirmed

slightly then sunk entirely into it. Her breath quickened as her arousal built quickly, I could almost feel her heart pounding through her entire body.

She sat on my lap.

“Now. I want you now” she said. I was right, she had me. I was completely lost in her. I grabbed her hips and slid her towards me and she, in one motion, sat up and then sat on me. I felt her warm, wet and tight around me. I had been blessed by being larger than average, and although I was not proud of what I had to do, I was proud, once again, with what I had. Blessed with a tool that I did not want to use this way.

She began to bounce on me, and I was unable to shut him out any more. He was sat behind me, and I did not even want to look at him. I looked into her eyes, her face squinted, mouth agape, clearly and genuinely enjoying the experience, as I was too. She was clenching around me, her breasts hypnotically bouncing. She grabbed mine and kissed me deeply. She kissed my cheek, my neck and then bit my earlobe lightly before softly whispering into my ear, away from him,

“You’re so fucking hot.”, leaning back again and locking eyes with me as she continued.

She kissed me again, her tongue dancing with mine, her squeezing my breast with one hand, my arm with the other and I felt my climax build. Way more rapidly than I had expected.

“I’m close” I said to her.

“Yes yes YES!” The male voice said next to me, and I held her hips now, quickening my movements as it built more and more rapidly before my vision darkened, leaning back and feeling the release inside her. Once. Twice. Three times.

My heart was racing, I couldn’t focus. I opened my eyes to look at her, her expression was not one of ecstasy, but one of worry.

All of a sudden, my head lurched to one side and I felt a shooting pain across my scalp. This man, this asshole was dragging me by my hair and threw me into the street. I would have fought back but weighing only 45kg, I was easy to shift around.

I landed into the street with a shooting pain in my hip, instantly feeling the cold water on my body as my clothes were thrown at me. I looked at the door. His partner was there, trying to run out to me but he pulled her back, yelled something incomprehensible at her, and then shut the door.

I gathered my clothes, looked around and saw the street was dead, thankfully. I could tell it was late and I was grateful for it, putting my clothes back on, soaked from the street and sitting on a neighbouring step as I composed myself. Tears came quickly. Anger came even quicker. I looked back at his door and wondered what I could do. What I wanted to do. I stood up, and then realised what could happen. He had probably expected me to come in anyways, and was ready for me. I turned, looked down the street to get my bearings and began walking.

If it had not been for the rain, my face would be soaked in tears. My scalp hurt, he had probably pulled hairs right out of it with the aggression he used. My hip was sore but I could tell the cold rain was numbing it somewhat – I knew later that wouldn’t be the case.

About a kilometre later, I arrived at my apartment. I opened the door, threw my jacket onto the couch, fell onto my bed and cried. I don’t think I stopped crying even as I slept.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

Hi how are you? :)

I was just wondering if you still write for Morpheus/Dream?

I love love your Morpheus fics. They are all so Damn good.

Momma is so cute. I was sure I saw you write it would get another part or a series or something.

I have seen other fics you have wrote come up on my timeline but none for Morpheus. Just other characters I don’t know.

So was just wondering if you are still doing the Morpheus stories? As you are definitely one of the best fic writers for him.

- ⭐️🌸:)

Hi bestie! So yes, I was planning on doing more for Momma, but things got hectic and I came up with so many ideas to write I had to put that on the back burner (but it is always a possibility). Morpheus will always be a beloved blorbo of mine and I actually have a 100+ wip/ideas for him, but I have been distracted by others lately and haven't been writing for our broody dream boi 😭 Ideally I'd like to finish The Places You've Been and The Cold is Never Violent before starting anything new (like that will actually happen tho ammi right?) but glad to hear you enjoy my Morpheus stories! Makes me want to write more actively for him again! 🥰 Since I just finished my grad semester I'll see what I can do and hopefully get out a chapter or two!! 🤞

[sterlingsilverchampion]

anyway, I didn’t log back in to say that I’m coming back because frankly: my rl position has changed drastically and at this point I think it’s safe to say that I’ve had my time in the pokemon community along with my Pokémon muses.

I do love them, but my attention has been elsewhere and I cannot commit to my muses as much as I used to.

Therefore, If there are any people with the same muses as mine that would like to use some of the information on this blog for your own use: feel free!

I was never a stickler for being picky about this but in case anyone needs permission, take this as a go ahead.

The only thing that won’t change is how I’ve written my muses and how I headcanon them. It brings me much joy to reminisce on them, and they’ll forever have a soft spot in my tiny little lizard brain.

but, my real life situation calls, and I cannot ignore it. If there’s anything that is needed from me, feel free to DM me- I won’t be taking discords because I’m too overwhelmed with everything else.

all in all, I hope everyone here has been doing well. Don’t forget to stick rocks into your pockets the next time you walk outside, it’s what Steven would want LMAO

~ Ammy

[fearowkenya]

okami is still the gift that keeps on giving. when i last cleared the entire game i was like "ok this time for SURE i have seen the whole thing and all of its secrets" but no. in THIS playthrough ALONE, ive learned:

you can make friendly fire happen between two enemies; not ALL of them, but it works on imps at the very least

using trees in combat actually does damage some enemies a fair amount! i actually think it interrupts some attacks but i have to experiment more

using a cherry bomb on an npc outside of combat is EXTREMELY FUNNY, particularly on imps

ringing the epicurean bell BEFORE orochi's appetizer is ready spawns a blue scroll

someday i might make a video about 'okami secrets' but honestly idk how many of them are all that hard to figure out. because of how many times ive played this game idk what things are or arent considered obscure. anyway, here are some of my favs

if you power slash heaps of snow in kamui, youll sometimes get snow sculptures of certain characters

How The Sun And Moon Techniques Actually Work (this ones more of a theory, if u care to find out, it's below)

you can smear ink on enemies to get them to flail around and farm demon fangs off of them with the reflector sub-weapon counter

drawing a circle around npcs makes most of them run over to pet ammy

that previous thing notably does NOT work on waka , but it still consumes ink and plays the sound effect as though it DID work. i LOVE that because it implies to me that waka DOES feel a pull to go pet ammy like the rest of the npcs, but is capable of resisting it

you can't headbutt waka! he sorta shimmers and evades you and you can never hit him.

you can find the real raos skeleton in the tunnel that connects the palace in sei-an to ankoku shrine

theres SO MUCH specific dialogue that youd have to actively seek out in order to see. for instance, everyone in kamiki village has unique dialogue if you talk to them while susano is on your back instead of taking him directly to the rock at the village entrance

OH I JUST REMEMBERED; if you draw a circle around any of the wep'keer villagers, instead of running to pet you they will shift into their wolf forms.

okami good. and like...this game came out in 2006. could you fucking IMAGINE how much neat stuff could be possible if they made a Actual Sequel with modern game engines. capcom . im looming behind you capcom do you fucking hear me are you listening capcom im

ALSO theres a lot of stuff that had me wheezing in confused fear during my last full playthrough. a lot of it pertains to lechku & netchku and the events surrounding their fight. like i have reason to believe that the intro legend about shiranui and orochi is wrong, but im not gonna make a post about it until ive gone through and played the whole game again, paying particularly close attention to the past-kamiki and ezofuji segments

ok im elaborating on how the sun and moon techniques actually work, as i understand them

i was halfway through writing up a thing about how these techniques don't actually let you control the position of the sun and the moon, and instead just changes the time. but then i remembered that no actually thats not true, since a lot of puzzles require you to have the sun or moon shining on a specific thing !! so in that case YES you are changing the position of the sun/moon. also the mechanic is LITERALLY you drawing the sun and moon in the sky so what the hell was i even talking about.

yes, without a doubt, ammy can control the position of the damn sun or moon as she sees fit, which affects the amount of light on the planet and changes the "time" to "day" or "night". the reason time is in quotes there is because if you are UNIQUELY changing the position of the sun/moon, the flow of time would be unchanged. unless you are looking at a sundial, man-made clocks WOULD NOT change if the sun was suddenly in a different place.

BUT WAIT! if you go to sei-an city and stand somewhere so that you can see the clocktower, then use the sun/moon technique, the hands on the clocktower start to move REALLY FAST until they correspond to the time that reflects the technique you used. which means that ammy changing the position of the sun/moon DOES affect the literal flow of time*.

heres the (in-universe) theory part: i think that the sun/moon brush skills at their core are techniques that let ammy control the flow of time by using the place she draws them as a reference point. i think if she wanted to, she could kinda 'scrub' through time the same way you would for a recorded video, but drawing the sun and moon is just easier, faster, and more fun.

im doubling down on this idea because in the beginning of the game when you first get out of the tutorial zone and into kamiki, there's no sun, no stars, no moon, nothing. all of the villagers are statues. i think that orochi's revival caused time to stop, which would explain why drawing the sun is what fixed the problem. by drawing the sun, ammy re-established the flow of time and got it moving again. im willing to bet that the moon technique would have worked just as well, but at that point in the game you obviously dont have access to it

now that i think of it, there are a few more brush techniques that you could argue are time-based. im less confident about those , so i'll list them but refrain from elaborating for now because it would require me to double check some stuff and i dont want to do that right now. also id be here for HOURS. anyway , other than the mist technique, the ones that i think COULD have something to do with messing with time are rejuvination and bloom. *as a side note, im pretty sure when you change from night->day or day->night it moves time forward, but im not sure what it does when you use sun/moon techniques to "reset" the current part of the day.

for instance, when im running around an area looking for stray beads and treasure, theres lights that shine on the spots youre supposed to dig, but only at night. instead of waiting for daybreak , when i hear the owl noise that happens like halfway through the night, i use the moon technique to "reset" the night back to the start. i started doing this because when i was a kid i saw that when you change the time of day , the villagers go "?????" and i felt bad for confusing them. i digress.

i'd be curious to find out since the game keep tracks of how many "days" (day/night cycles) it takes you to complete the game. i want to know if "extending" the night/day moves the "clock" an entire day ahead, or if it moves it back to the start of that original day/night. i can't remember off the top of my head if the number of days affects your overall score for the entire game, but i imagine it doesnt (or if it does, not by much) because of how often you need to be using sun/moon tech to solve puzzles.

[thebookishhijabiwrites]

 MY HIJAB STORY

"I won't let you come with me if you wear this burqa. Understood?"

Mrs. Khan fixed her brown furious gaze at the 12-year-old girl who was insistent on wearing a burqaa and beginning Hijab.

After being unable to convince her father, she was trying to persuade her mother. She was pretty sure that her mother would definitely support her. It was none other than her mother who taught her to wear a head scarf at an early age, even with criticism from people.

But, oh no!

Her mother's statement was like an arrow from the heavens that sent the earth trembling in terror and shaking her feet.

With faltering steps and a heavy heart, she decided to try the tool of last resort and stood before her Merciful Lord. She prayed to Allah that if you want me to do hijab, then make me steadfast on it from this very day. Help me now. Please!

When she moved her head to the left reciting "Assalamualaikum wa rahmatullah", a strong and confident girl woke up inside her.

Folding the prayer mat, she said politely in a confident voice:

"Mother, I will do the hijab, inshaAllah. If you take me with you, I'll be grateful. Otherwise, I am not leaving without a burqa. "

Mrs. Khan's gentle nature and need to take the girl with her played a role.

So she surrendered saying:

"Let's go today. But it should never happen next time."

"Aww, thank you so much, Ammi"

Hugging her mother tightly she quickly slipped into her burqa, like a princess pouring herself into her long dress. She crowned her hair with a hijab, leaning forward to the mirror. As her vision swam to the mirror, she caught the reflection of a brightening pearl in its shell. She blinked.

This time, in the midst of its thorns, a red rose blushed. 

"Wow, is it me?" she whispered with curiosity.

A moon smiled back at her, shielded behind its clouds.

"Yes, little girl! There is no one more beautiful than a girl who attains hijab for the pleasure of her Allah. She is a rare & precious diamond that can't be found easily, a beaming pearl in its shell, a rose protected by thorns, and a moon covered by clouds."

An imaginative voice soothed her ears and soul.

Swelling with happiness, she adorned herself with socks and gloves as well.

Her hijab covered her body but opened her mind to the greater beauty that is Allah's.  

----

During the journey, a strange incident happened that jolted the roots of Mrs. Khan.

An old man, likely in his nineties, was thrilled to see her in that way and couldn't resist patting her on the head with trembling hands. And said:

"Oh Daughter! I am very glad to see you in this condition in this era, because otherwise, women have completely neglected the hijab."

And giving many blessings, he left while Mrs. Khan remained numb with tears springing into her eyes.

No sooner did they return home than she held her daughter in a warm and tight embrace. She apologized for her rude behavior and promised to support her fully. 

That's when the Hijabi journey started. While she received encouraging words from some people, A lot overwhelmed her with a barrage of taunts and insults. Someone would tease, "You are going to be crazy soon" some would say "She is a small child now, why did you put her behind curtains?" Another voice would echo, "Hey, Does Islam ask you to hide from your cousin too with whom you have spent your childhood?" Someone said teasingly, "Now in a few years, you will going to hide from your father also."

"Hey look! Here comes the Mullani" and so on.

These criticisms would cause her delicate heart to ache sweetly. She would say, "Come on, let me suffer something for Allah."

Someone's voice would echo in her mind: "Sister, our prophet suffered a lot for us. Can't we bear some taunts for him?"

So, she would feel a "special pleasure" in suffering for Allah and his beloved prophet peace be upon him.

Sometimes, a few taunts would make her misty-eyed. And once in a while, she burst into tears.

But there is beauty in being rejected by people. It teaches you to rely on Allah for everything.

Allah Ta'ala has extended His help on various occasions. Which, if written, might become a booklet. Now, thanks to Allah's mercy, my parents are more than happy with my hijab and support me strongly.

Despite criticism, the hijabi journey continues with Allah's mercy and the support of loved ones. May Allah grant steadfastness.

---

Hey there!

How was my story? Did you find it interesting?

Feel free to comment below with your valuable feedback.

My message to the sisters is that it does not matter where you are at in your hijab journey, it still counts. Keep improving day by day for your Merciful Allah! He doesn't waste a single good deed done for him.

See you soon in the next post!

Salam.

[salamanderinspace]

Saving a small section from a book I finished. The book was pretty disappointing overall but this was an interesting description of this sort of emotional state. This protagonist has been ghosted by a guy she went on two dates with (though their parents were intensely pressuring them to marry, so there were expectations) and is processing the rejection. A few more comments below the break:

...I do find it interesting that she doesn't want help, doesn't want to talk about it, because she knows her family will make this worse. The narrative ultimately proves this to be poor/false judgement on her part, which IMO is a big reason why the book is disappointing---in real life, if people are vicious bullies in chapters 1-30, they will continue to be vicious bullies in chapter 31 after you stand up to them and "love yourself" or whatever. The way her mother is constantly putting her through it for not being married seems very much like bullying to me.

Anyway. Here she is, this very high strung girl with a very very different cultural background from me, working through a traumatic heartbreak after not being texted back for one week.

"Everything okay, Leila?" my mother asked me at the breakfast table the next morning.

"I'm fine," I said, pushing my eggs from one end of the plate to the other. I had no idea if my mother knew that I had seen Zain again, but I didn't want to risk giving her more access to my life than she already had.

"You haven't eaten anything. Can I make you something else?"

"No. No, Ammi, I'm fine, I'm just a little tired, I said, getting up.

"You can always talk to me if something is wrong," my mother said softly.

I nodded and walked back into my room. I knew she could sense I was upset, but she was the last person I wanted to talk to about Zain. If I so much as mentioned his name, she would immediately call Yasmeen aunty, and I couldn't deal with any more humiliation. If my mother had never forced me to go to that lunch, I never would have met him, and I never would have gotten my heart broken. I knew it was unfair to hold her solely responsible for what happened between the two of us, but I couldn't help but feel that she shared at least some portion of the blame.

In an attempt to protect my fragile emotions, I decided to avoid my mother for the next week and tried everything I could to get over Zain on my own. I even pushed myself to go on a few more dates-and some second and third dates; however, my self-esteem had been so rattled, I just couldn't think clearly. Zain remained in the back of my mind like an unwanted guest.

When I used to go out, I was mainly concerned with how much I would like my date. Now, I was petrified that he wouldn't like me. These feelings of self- doubt consumed me entirely, and I resented Zain for that. Each time I met a potential suitor, I felt like I had to try extra hard to come off as smart and witty because I desperately needed validation. I needed to prove somehow that Zain had made a mistake. But even when a date would express interest, I instantly assumed there was something wrong: if I wasn't good enough for Zain, then anyone who did think I was good enough must be substandard. I knew my thinking made no sense, but nothing made sense anymore. My life had been reduced to mere contradictions. I hated Zain, but I also secretly wished he would call me so everything could go back to the way it was that night at the jazz club. With each day that passed, though, the silence on his end eventually started causing me to hate myself. I hated that I felt so powerless over the situation. I hated how crappy I felt all the time. But most of all, I hated that I had allowed myself to yearn for the one guy I couldn't have.

[thelostgarden-blog]

First summer in the "garden"

My little terrace have given me a chance to do some gardening again and I'm a little rust and limited, and with gardening you learn all the time.

A little review of the annual flowers of 2022

Plox drummondii "Creme Brulee": Even though I didn't plant them right away they have grown really well and in a neat compact way. I'll grow these next year as well and I'll see if I can find some other colors as well. I have deadheaded a little but not a lot, still a lot of flowers and no ugly old flowers.

Scabiosa purpurea: A bit floppy and will benefit from growing next to something sturdy. Favorite color was "Black Knight", a dark deep red. I will grow these next year, they are still going strong and flowering. Some deadheading needed but the seed heads are pretty nice too.

Cosmos: Don't know if it's because it's been hot and dry and they are in a bed with a lot of thirsty plants but they have not been as nice lately and the planting is not as thick as the other bed. Not a must for next season. Deadheading needed.

Helianthus "Ms Mars": Grown in one of the beds and maybe it would be better in a taller pot?

Calendula: I did throw a few away as I never got around to plant them all out and I had sown so many of these. "Orange Flash" which I swear smells of rhubarb when you deadhead it, cute and some soft pink peach colors in it. "Ivory Princess", best in the evening just as it's about open or is new. Deadheading needed. Aphids likes it, funny how they are only of the calendula despite being in a box packed with different plants. Some calendula will be grown next year, maybe a new one?

Salvia viridis "Blue Monday": Starting to get a little boring, maybe it's due to the dryness of that bed? I do prefer plants that last a long time but I liked this one

Rudbeckia hirta "Sahara": First one is about to bloom now so a slow one for the later parts of the season. Not sure I have the space for that. I would love to have a few big pots of this ready to take out when other things begins to get boring but I don't.

Cobaea scandens: Very easy to grow and despite being in small pots it grows. I was a little mean to it in the beginning so maybe it would have done better if I was nicer. As far as I recall it's hard to get it too bloom as our summers are often not warm enough but I don't mind the vines as they are, often dark foliage. A little of a hassle to sow as they grow pretty quickly and grabs a hold on things. Maybe be a little too much trouble. You only need to help it on to things and then it climbs on it's own.

Ipomoea "Grandpa Ott": Easy to sow and can be sown cold so it's a space saver. It tends to grow together, the vines wrap themselves around each other and create a thicker vine which is not a super nice look in my opinion, maybe the solution is more? More plants and make a thicker area of vines? I will grow this next season and possibly look for some other color as well. Some deadheading is needed.

Tagetes "Burning Embers": This variety makes a pretty compact bush, lots of bumblebees around it. I never like tagetes before I had this and yes, easy and a filler. Deadheading needed. Might try tagetes tenuifolia as well next year but this one will be back.

Antirrhinum "Black Prince": Abused and not given a fair chance, will be given one next year. Will cold sow it. Despite not been well cared for it bloomed with lovely dark red flowers, they didn't last long but I love the dark foliage and flowers.

Ammi "Green Mist": Hasn't flowered yet, they are about too. I like the dill looking foliage. If I lack space than I guess this might be one that I won't grow but yeah, I just want to grow everything. The foliage is nice as a filler.

Erigeron karvinskianus: Grew pretty slow for me, not a very common plant here as far as I know and some claim this is a tender perennial. It's pretty low and I have it squeezed in between the two raised beds and some basil. I like them in a lot of pictures but it has not been great here. Maybe it's the wrong spot? Probably not a must for next season but I will try and collect some seeds as it was very expensive and not available in my country so I could share some online.

Verbena bonariensis: A little slow growing and have just begun to bloom. They take a lot of space and I don't have much to begin with. They are also tall and it can get windy here so maybe they are not the best choice? I would love to have a big one in an old oak barrel, keep it in a greenhouse over winter and take it out each spring. Probably not a must for next season. But I will try and keep a few cuttings of it over the winter just to try, I did it with basil and tomatoes.

[fighterkimburgess]

It's lovely for you that someone has grown from being a racist.

Were you racist when you were 22?

Honestly? Probably.

I was not a great human. I was an asshole and I was cruel and I have said slurs that now I would never say in a million years. Because people showed me grace and guidance and allowed me to grow, and I feel like we should allow everyone to do that.

I don’t make excuses for who I was and what I have done in the past. I accept what I’ve done and that I was Not a Good Person. I fully admit that. And to claim that I’ve always been a paragon of virtue would be, quite frankly, an absolute lie and I won’t do that.

This will only make sense to the Irish people, but when I started in college I was friends with the Burkes in NUIG. Yeah. That family. They were my friends, I regularly got the bus back to where I was living with Ammi and Kezia. They were honestly my friends. I thought they were a bit conservative because the girls only wore long skirts, but that wasn’t super abnormal really.

For those who don’t know, that family is essentially Irelands equivalent to the westboro Baptist church. I didn’t know at the time, I was a closeted kid who’d moved away from home and thought I’d found friends. It wasn’t until someone filled me in that I realised what they stood for and I stopped.

So yeah, I have been that person, which is how I know people can change.

What I’m saying anon is that people can change. I know I have. And I think that the world would be a better place if we can give people that space to grow and learn if things are from almost a third of a person’s life ago.

I’m aware that I come at this from the privilege of being white. I’m aware that not everyone has to agree with me on this. But I know that if people had immediately shut me down and hated me, I’d have been worse. And if people who are able to extend that grace and say “I was like you and I could change, you can too” actually say it, then maybe things would be a little better.

[yourthiccgoddessmidna]

Gabby, Sherry, Amy, and Regina were quiet. “We all agree… never speak of what happened.” The girls nodded. [The plan. see Al drunk and see if he does something funny]

[What actually happened. Al is a somewhat well meaning but sad drunk]

To Gabby: “Thank you my precious pumpkin (hic) for giving me another chance of being a dad.

To Sherry: “(hic) Thamk you Sherry berryyy (chuckle) for bring me laughter in dark times.

To Amy: (slurred) Ammy you’re beautiful inside and out, don’t let anyone tell you different…

To Mary/Regina: Honey… why’d a beauty like you agree to my proposal I’ll never know… but I’m glad you did. Plus I get to stare at that cute butt guilt free.

To all of them: seeing all of you brings my heart joy. But those night terrors… where I’m all alone and I have no family again… but when I wake up I’m glad to know it’s only a dream.

Regina thought that he would do something funny. Him getting all mushy definitely wasn't the plan. She just stuffed him deep in her navel as he slept it off. "Good because if any of you speak about this, that's a month of punishment. I'm very serious. I have rolls on my back reserved for each of you just in case..."

[johnhardinsawyer]

In the End, Grace

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

11 / 12 / 23

2 Corinthians 8:1-9

Hosea 11:1-9

“In the End, Grace”

(Generous Grace:  A Reflection of God’s Heart – 4)

“Parenting is the last great adventure.”  This is what Joe Hendricks once told me.  Dr. Hendricks was one of my religion professors in college.  He was kind of a living legend – having been at Mercer University in one capacity or another for decades.  He had been there so long that many people simply called him “Papa Joe.”  He was filled with wisdom about the Bible, and ethics, and morals, and race, and history, and time, and our place in all of it.  Once, the topic of parenting came up and he said something that I’ll never forget.  “Brother Sawyer,” he said – this is how he spoke.  “Brother Sawyer, parenting is the last great adventure.”  

After being a parent, now, for six and a half years, I’m inclined to agree.  When you set out on an adventure, you might have a goal in mind – to climb some mountain, or explore some unknown part of the world, or somehow raise a child into a good person.  But on any adventure, there are peaks and pitfalls, and detours and disappointments, terrors and triumphs.  You might think you know where your adventure will take you – “I’m gonna climb that mountain” or “I’m gonna help produce a good person” – and you might think you’re ready to set out on this adventure –  but you really have no idea what’s in store for you . . . how difficult the journey will be, the heights and depths you will experience, what you might have to sacrifice along the way, and how your love will be tested.  Adventures often require a whole lot of faith and a whole lot of love.    

Out of all of the parents in the Bible, the Prophet Hosea’s love is tested in some very real and hard ways.  Hosea’s parenting adventure is probably way harder than most of us would be able to handle.  

A few weeks ago, I talked about how there are times in the Hebrew Bible, when God will ask people to do certain things that look or sound strange to people like us, but these are examples of God using a symbolic action to teach a lesson or signify something else.  So, Jeroboam, the first King of the Northern Kingdom – also known as the Kingdom of Israel, also known as Ephraim (I know. . . I know. . . it’s a little bit confusing) – meets someone on the road who tears a garment into twelve pieces and gives Jeroboam eleven of the pieces, telling him that he will one day rule over eleven of the twelve tribes of Israel.[1]  Years later, the Prophet Hosea, living in the Northern Kingdom – is asked to marry a woman of ill-repute and have children with her.  This symbolic action – as crazy as it sounds – represents the broken relationship that God has with the Northern Kingdom.  The people are cheating on God by worshiping idols, and, as God tells Hosea, “the land commits harlotry by forsaking the Lord.”  (Hosea 1:2) 

Now, I know that many of your are probably thinking, “Wait a minute, John!  I thought that today was Stewardship Celebration Sunday!  This don’t sound like a celebratory message to me.”  Friends, good news is on the way.  I promise.  

But first, to make matters even worse for Hosea, he and his wife have children (though there is a strong chance that – because of his wife’s profession – the children are not biologically related to Hosea).  And then, God tells Hoseato give these children symbolic names like, “Jezreel – The Place of Blood and Defeat” and “Lo-ruhamma – Not Pitied or Forgiven by God” and “Lo-ammi – These People are Not God’s People.”[2]

Some of you might have a name that holds special meaning in your family, but imagine having a name that describes the brokenness your family – or your nation – has caused because of their behavior.  I imagine. . . when Hosea’s kids were being chosen for a ball team, how hard it would have been for someone named “Not Pitied” or “Not My People” to be chosen!  And, to name a child Jezreel, as one commentator writes, would be like naming a child Auschwitz or Hiroshima.[3]

One of Papa Joe’s lessons in class many years ago, going back to the Book of Genesis, is that one of the most powerful responsibilities that God gave human beings was the power to name things and people.[4]  There is great power in a name – names can hold great meaning – and we human beings give names for good or for ill.  

So, Hosea’s family is kind of messed upand God makes a powerful public example of this family.  But, what is God’s purpose in all of it?  Is God, as the Psalmist says, “gracious and merciful”[5] or not?  

There are some things that we will never know about God – especially why God does certain things – but if there is one thing that we do know . . . one thing that we believe to be true about God . . . one promise to which we hold and in which we put our trust . . . it is that God, in the end, is gracious.  

In today’s reading, despite all of the difficulty that may have come before it, we come to see God in a different – and more gracious – light.  In the end, God has compassion on God’s people, because this is who God is.

God brought the people of Israel out of Egypt.  God rescued God’s people from bondage.  God lifted the people up like a baby to God’s own cheek – feeding God’s people and caring for them like God’s own.  God taught God’s people how to walk, but now they have run off.  They have never acknowledged what God has done for them.  Even though they used to be slaves in Egypt it looks like they wouldn’t mind becoming slaves to another empire.  They pray to the false “small g” god, Baal, but Baal does not answer or help them.  

And yet. . . and. . . yet. . .  God loves them, anyway.  Anyone else and God might not be so merciful, but when God sees these people – God’s own people – God says, “How can I give you up?  How can I abandon you?  My insides churn at the thought!  And so, I will not act on my anger.  I will not destroy you, or abandon you, or give you up.  Why?  Because I am God and I am gracious.  I am right here, with you.”[6]  

As Eugene Peterson translates:

But how can I give up on you, Ephraim?     How can I turn you loose, Israel? How can I leave you to be ruined. . .  I can’t bear to even think such thoughts.     My insides churn in protest. And so I’m not going to act on my anger.     I’m not going to destroy Ephraim. And why? Because I am God and not a human.     I’m The Holy One and I’m here—in your very midst.[7]

God does not do what God may have done before and God does not act in a way that many human beings would choose to act.  No, in the end, God is “gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.”  (Psalm 103:8)  No matter what, God loves us anyway.

This was one of Papa Joe’s favorite lessons.  Papa Joe’s friend, Will Campbell, once wrote that “No matter what, God loves us anyway.”[8]  Now, the language that Will Campbell and that Papa Joe used was a little spicier than this, but “No matter what, God loves us anyway” is a fairly good Sunday-morning-go-to-church paraphrase of the original.  Just to hint at the spicy language, though, Hosea’s three children might not be his actual, biological, children, but Hosea loves them anyway. 

And we human beings, even though we are very good at falling short of what God hopes for us, we find ourselves in the unearnable position of being on the receiving end of God’s grace.  Human parents will sometimes fall short on this, but God does not.  God chooses grace.  And, in Jesus Christ, God sends the physical embodiment of this grace – the Holy One in our midst.  Parenting is the last great adventure and God’s gracious adventure is lived in flesh and blood and life and love by Jesus.  And even though human beings fall short in a disastrous way when it comes to receiving and following Jesus, no matter what, God loves us anyway.  This is the very definition of grace.

In the face of such great love, what is our response? 

In today’s reading from 2 Corinthians, we see one kind of response – people who are so thankful for the grace of God that they respond with generous gratitude.  As Paul writes, “We want you to know about the grace of God that has been granted to the churches of Macedonia; for during a severe ordeal of affliction, their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part.”  (2 Corinthians 8:1-2)

This is not a normal human response.  It’s not what you and I would normally do in times of severity and suffering – and so many other competing financial priorities, and expenses, and fluctuations in currency and stock markets.  It is very human to try to hold on to what we have.  But grace is not about holding on to what we have.  Grace is, by its nature, a gift.  And the people of Macedonia respond to God’s generous grace by overflowing with gracious generosity.  Theirs is a holy response to the goodness of God.  God has chosen grace.  And the Macedonians step out on faith and also choose grace.  

Choosing grace is so hard and runs counter to how you and I oftentimes want to act – but the gracious adventure of faith will sometimes lead us on paths that we might not normally take and ask more of us than we might normally be able to give.  In the end, though, there is grace.  There is always grace.  

If God has chosen grace, what is our grateful and gracious response?  No matter what, God loves us anyway.  How will you respond to God’s grace?

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

------

[1] See 1 Kings 11:30-32.  

[2] See Hosea 1:4-8 – Paraphrased, JHS.

[3] James Limburg, Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching – Hosea-Micah (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1988) 9.

[4] See Genesis 2:19-20.

[5] Psalm 103:8.

[6] Hosea 11:8-9 – Paraphrased, JHS.

[7] Eugene Peterson, The Message: Numbered Edition (Colorado Springs: NAV Press, 2002) 1234. Hosea 11:1-9.

[8] The quote is actually “We’re all bastards but God loves us anyway.”  https://afkimel.wordpress.com/2015/06/30/were-all-bastards-but-god-loves-us-anyway/.

[aamirastories]

Part 4

We're still not back with Ammy yet, but I promise it's coming! Until then...

Tracking Station Atlantis

March 10th, 2023

All my training. All those times watching my colleagues as they helped me figure out the systems I would be using. A lot of “you’ll probably never need to do this but..” and “it’s rare but..” had come to this. 

I looked over my console, looking around the other 40 or so consoles in the room, someone at each of them, headsets on, punching away at their keyboards, then looking up at the larger screen. 

I looked at the screen again and it showed a picture of Earth. Notably the northern hemisphere, centred on the northern US, somewhere around New York. A circle was flashing in the top-right, a dotted line drawn from it to somewhere over New Jersey, a counter at the bottom of the screen. 10 minutes, 25 seconds. The circle moved slowly towards the Planet.

I looked back at my terminal. Speed: 3000km/h. Distance: 500km.

The distance was counting down. A voice in my headset called to me.

“Tracking - any change in current speed?” the voice said.

“No - it remains 3000km/h”, I replied.

We had been tracking this for roughly 3 hours. Once it had come up on our radars, and we had checked the trajectory, three times just to be sure, it was confirmed it was going to impact the planet. The only thing we were unsure of was whether it would burn up in the atmosphere or impact. The damage wouldn’t be huge, but anywhere this thing hit, it would likely be a heavily populated area.

As the countdown proceeded, the area of impact grew smaller as the systems were better able to calculate its trajectory. Colleagues were calculating populations likely to be killed, satellites it may hit, tracking ISS orbits. Teams were working on ways to take this, what we had called an asteroid by now, out of the sky before it hit.

An hour prior, we were ordered to hand our phones and smartwatches in. No knowledge of this was to leave the room. Only people way higher up than us were allowed to know about this, and it was stressed to us that the consequences of inadvertent disclosure of information would be extreme. 

6 minutes. Every time my mind wandered; this thing hurtled ever closer. We were based in Nevada so well clear of the potential impact zone, but no-one knew what this thing was made of, and hence how it could be affected once it hit our atmosphere.

5 minutes. The impact zone had been confirmed. Population estimates were taken, and colleagues rushed frantically around the room with printouts covered in numbers, none of which I could discern but the looks on their faces were not revealing anything good.

3 minutes. It had entered the atmosphere. Albeit slowed, its impact zone did not change. There was no time now to engage it. We just had to wait. I stared, transfixed – 3 minutes until projected impact. Missiles we launched altered the course of the object slightly but not enough. Now we could only watch on helplessly and brace for the aftermath.

My colleagues murmured stats back and forth, faces tight with stress. Estimates of casualty numbers – anywhere from 50,000 to 2 million – we had no idea of even what this was and hence our numbers ranged wildly. Outside our sealed room, I knew panic must be setting in but our job was to keep watching. Unable to save anyone.

2 minutes. We stopped. We all held our breath as we watched the countdown. What would happen. I briefly cast my mind to the people there. I could do nothing. I felt powerless. My heart raced. I felt myself bargaining irrationally with fate, a chant repeating in my head. ‘Please burn up, please burn up!’ I told myself. Now we could only witness whatever unfolded next. Ominous quiet filled the room. Heads bowed; eyes shut tight against the nightmarish reality hurtling towards potentially millions of people.

1 minute 11 seconds. The circle disappeared. 

“TARGET LOST”

We all looked round at each other. Was that good? Had it just gone under radar? Too small now to detect maybe? The farthest corner of the room frantically worked before they whispered to each other. The team leader of this part of the room, the primary tracking team, stood up and we were silent.

“Target burnt up in the atmosphere. We have confirmation no fragments have been detected. Visual tracking has confirmed the object exploded in the atmosphere with nil further fragments seen.”

Another second and cheers erupted. Those 3 desperate hours, watching that circle inch its way ever closer, threatening us with every pressing moment, was gone. I sighed a deep relief and collapsed in my chair. We skated the razor’s edge today, and I was exhausted. I needed a drink.