#[ weepeth ]

[scripture-pictures]

[saints-who-never-existed]

Hard agree, yes. I think in all likelihood Goodsir or Bridgens did the job at a practical level but I absolutely choose to believe that it was the Lieutenants who ordered it/made sure it was done. 

Please accept in these trying times a Little who has also pretty obviously been crying (and who also - tiny point of contention but you know I have to defend my boy - hasn’t actively fucked everything up yet at this point). 

HE WAS THEIR FRIEND!!! :’(((((

Also, not that it ever justifies it, but given the absolute brutality of Irving’s injuries post-theoretical-clean-up, it makes even more sense why Hodgson would order retribution the way he did. It’s horrific enough to see the aftermath, imagine what it was like to see before with blood and body parts on the shale. 

may just have gaslit myself into thinking that at some point between irving dying and us seeing just how severely he has died SOMEBODY has like. tidied his beard up and cleaned him up a bit. but also if that is the case then i think i am going to become unfathomably pathetic. waugh.

[atinylittlepain]

Chapter Five

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: 18+ heavy angst, references to past injury related to DV

a/n: so we are in for another heavy sitting. as always, my goal is always truth, nothing gratuitous, but honest. my DMs are always open, I'd love to hear what you're thinking about this one.

............................................

And on this bed there lyeth a knight

His wound is bleeding day and night

By his bedside kneeleth a maid

And she weepeth both night and day

Corpus Christi Carol - Jeff Buckley

.........................................

Suicide watch. When he first moved out here, those were the two words he was offered about the month of January. The darkest, meanest, coldest stretch of winter. Spring isn’t even a promise yet, and any warmth, any light from the glow of the holidays has already flickered and faded out. A lonely time, a time when people start thinking about things they shouldn’t. A time to check on your neighbors when you can, when the snow lets up and parts clear enough to venture out on the roads, at least. But for now, everything is close and quiet and white, a sheer wall of wind and freeze when they trudge out in the mornings to check on the chickens and the sheep.  Always quick to shirk and shiver back inside, the promise of a near-continuous fire and coffee that stings warmth back into fingers,

Sarah came home for Christmas, another strange explaining, maneuvering and moving around the fact of the friend, right, friend, staying with Joel. A swell of pride when his daughter was gracious about it, if not a little smug, knowing smiles when Dolores wasn’t looking that Joel refused to indulge. Everyone making careful room for each other around the dining table until, by the end of the week, New Year’s flirting, it wasn’t careful anymore, just care. Definitely on purpose, Sarah saying something more like see you later rather than goodbye to Dolores. A promise and a prayer for her lonely father. Another thing he heard when he first moved out here from his daughter over the phone. Worry, I’m worried, dad, it’s lonely out there, lone and alone out there.

But he’s not alone, not lone, and certainly not lonely. Learning, the both of them. What he thought would be two steps back had been more like a stopped breath, quick to catch itself and keep humming. Because she stayed, is staying. For the winter, at least. But for now, spring is so far away, so he can allow for this to feel like a staying. Like something has changed, and it has.

When did it change, he isn’t sure. Early December, her still collecting all the tender angles of herself, that terrible thrum of bruise still healing around her throat. Middle of the night and he heard something, the creak  of floorboards jumping his heart hot and to the hilt of his chest. Bleary, both of them, he found her tucking up into the corner of the couch, something dark pulling around her eyes. He had asked her if she was alright all on one quiet exhale. She started to speak, then stopped herself, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as if to dam the words back. Maybe a breath, maybe two, and she finally told him that her room was too cold and that she would just sleep on the couch, really, no worry, really. But he knew that she wouldn’t, all those mornings in the beginning, finding her folded in on herself, awake and unblinking, on alert. Easier, maybe, for her to say that her room was too cold, to call it something else, even when they both knew what it was. 

And he knows for certain now, because now,  when night pulls a heavy pall down over the mountains, they both toe their way upstairs, a careful accounting of space when they slip into bed. His side, her side. She cries in her sleep, small, broken sounds that rouse him. She kicks in her sleep, thrashes and jerks, and he lets her. Takes every small hurt she could possibly lay upon him, and doesn’t make a sound. He hasn’t decided if it would be better to wake her when it happens. It always passes. Always, eventually, her hand finding some part of him, clutched in the thin fabric of his t-shirt, or caught around his arm. And it passes, quietly, carefully, bodies curling around each other, nothing ever said about it in the morning. By the time Sarah came to visit, a conversation about who would get the guest room didn’t even have to happen. It had already changed by then. 

But tonight it isn’t cry or combat that wakes him. It’s her, well awake and shaking his shoulder, her eyes shining in the pale slant of moonlight. He murmurs, quiet, what, what is it?  Slow to sit up and fumble with the lamp on his nightstand, finally awake enough to fully see her, kneeling in a rumpled nest of sheets on her side of the bed, her hands dropping in her lap in an anxious twist.

“I have a feeling.” It takes his mind a moment to configure those words into any meaning. A feeling, right. She’s been anxious all week, lingering in the barn with Avril and Lucy, had even called the vet of her own accord, asking if he was sure that it would be another few weeks until it was time. He was sure, but Dolores wasn’t.

“Okay.” No questioning it, he’s already unfolding himself from bed and stumbling around the room to get enough clothes on to keep him warm when they trudge out to the barn. She quietly follows suit. 

Snow has a way of turning everything silent. When it’s this cold, the flakes coming down are more like fluff, a constant blink to clear them from his eyes as their boots sink and slurry into the thick muffle of it. Dolores is undeterred by any of it, a few paces ahead of him, already slipping through the barn door before he can help her open it. 

Of course, she was right, somehow. He hears it before he sees it. The doleful bleating of a very ancient pain, an understood pain. The ewe is laying on her side, lifting her head with a despondent huff from time to time, lips curling back to loosen another moan. As if they know, the rest of the flock huddles away from the corner she has nestled down in, nervous chatterings and thumps of hooves in the dim light of the barn. 

There’s no hesitation in how she kneels down alongside the animal, palm to stomach, a smooth circle through her thickening wool. Joel knows that the ewe will do this all on her own, that, unless something goes wrong, they could have stayed in bed and waited until the morning to greet whoever is coming without the viscera of this moment. But he doesn’t say a thing, hangs back with the rest of the herd and lets her murmur quiet comforts to Lucy. 

It isn’t much longer before there is a body, slick and slight, tucked behind its mother. It is perfect, curled on its side, cream coat, and so impossibly small. It is not moving, and Joel knows that life must move, quickly, and as soon as possible. But it does not move, does not cry, does not unfold its thin legs. 

Something that Joel had failed to tell Dolores. An intentional failure. Something that the vet had told him. This was Lucy’s first time lambing, only one, they had discovered through the thick thrum of an ultrasound. A warning, a preparing, that the first is always uncertain, always a question mark. That afternoon, when he picked Dolores up from work and she asked him what the vet said, perfect hope rounding her cheeks, how could he do anything other than lie to her? And now, oh, how he regrets that. His fault, her hope, his fault. 

She shuffles over on her knees to the quiet, unbeating body, and she knows immediately. He can see the quick jolt of knowing pass through her, a tensing, a turning inward. 

“I–” That is all she manages to get out, her hand doing something that looks like reaching or grasping, suspended somewhere in the air between herself and the lamb. And Joel is going to have to lie to her again. A gruesome thing, what must be done when something like this happens. A body cannot just be a body, and it certainly cannot be treated like one. It had made him feel sick when the vet first told him what must be done to something small and unmoving to protect the rest of the flock.

“We need to call the vet, he’ll come make sure Lucy’s okay and take the body–”

“What?”  It startles him, the loudest she’s ever spoken to him, a clipped bark of a question, her head jerking around to look at him with narrowed eyes. Made even more striking by the strange scar of pain that rasps in her voice now. He has to swallow hard before he answers.

“The vet, he’ll take the–”

“No, he’s not taking anything.” She sets her jaw in a firm line when she finishes speaking, and Joel still finds himself stunned by this steeled resolve of hers, trying to stay gentle, careful with what he says.

“Dove, it’s not safe to leave it in here with the rest of the flock.”

“I’m not going to leave it in here, Joel. I’m going to bury it.” She glances back at the lamb, its mother still laying in a slump of exhaustion, nearly as unmoving as it is, save for the soft rise and fall of breath. And Dolores is already getting up before he can say anything else, shrugging out of her coat and laying it out in the hay, careful hands cupping around the fact of the lamb’s body, his protests die in his throat as he watches how gently she wraps it in the fabric, some sort of makeshift funeral shroud. She cradles the bundle in one arm, like a gift, like a child, and she spares no attention to Joel as she walks past him, plucking a shovel from the wall of the barn before shouldering her way back out into the night. All he can do to dumbly follow after her.

It’s insane, and frankly, it’s stupid. A good couple inches of snow on the ground, the frozen solid ground. Dark for miles save for the cast of light from the front porch of the house. Yet Dolores moves with a schooled purpose, like she knows just the spot, like there is a place for something like this, out behind the house. 

Well below freezing, and she’s no longer wearing a coat, but there is no hesitation to her movements, how carefully she sets the small bundle down in the snow, and how decisively she drives the shovel down through the frozen layers, the clean slice of sound when she sinks it into the dirt. There will be no arguing with something like this. She is ready, hackles raised when he says her name, fierce eyes and the hard jut of her chin, all slanted in the shadows of the dim light bleeding out from the house. But he is not looking to stop her, not looking for a fight, only to offer her his jacket. 

“I’ll go get the other shovel.” And so he does. And so they dig. And so it is a tedious, terrible task. Snot freezes to his face, tears too. His whole body moves past the shake of it, a resignation to the cold, muscles locking up close and tight. Neither of them say a thing, the hard pant of their breath getting swallowed up by the snow. 

Eventually, there is a hole in the ground that is big enough for the lamb. She does that thing again, that near-painful thing to watch, how she cradles the body close to her chest, like a mother, like she knows exactly what to do in a situation where nothing could possibly be a right answer. And a small part of him wonders if the way she moves comes from something in her past. Care that once was, and no longer is. 

By the time the earth has been turned over fresh and lifted where they buried the lamb, the sun is sending the first stream of milky light down the face of the mountain. Both of them too cold to do much more than prop the shovels against the side of the house and crawl inside, instant relief in the fast flood of heat. Dolores wordlessly shuffles into the bathroom downstairs, the shower starting to run as Joel calls the vet. He’s too tired, and too cold, to give the vet much more of an explanation than that the lamb has been taken care of, and that Lucy needs checked out. He hangs up before any questions can be asked. 

Everything smarts and stings under the heat of a shower, and when he gets out, skin pink and singing with it, he can see through the crack of his bathroom door that she has gotten back into bed, turned away from him on her side, sheets pulled up tight, one hand clutching at them to keep them up over her shoulder. And it seems like the best idea, really, to try to put a few unconscious hours between them and what just happened, so he pulls on a clean t-shirt and boxers, and joins her. He turns on his side, hands kept close to his body, the slightest bend in his knees so that they won’t brush against hers. Her eyes are open, palm tucked under her cheek, unwavering gaze that he gives back to her.

“Are you okay?” 

“I think it was a girl.” When she speaks as quietly as she does now, everything starts to rasp a little, and he has to wonder if it isn’t painful, the sound of struggle present and clear. 

“I’m sorry, Dovey.” Because it is certainly painful for him, a thick flood of tears gripped in his throat. Something nearly loosens in his chest when she lays the gentlest palm on his cheek, her thumb stroking just beneath his eye, like she can feel the salt collecting there, soothing it away. 

“I am too.” He could tell her that she has nothing to be sorry for, but he knows that isn’t what she means. Sorry for the situation, sorry for what had to be done. His sorry, something else. Sorry that protection seems to always turn into something sour. Sorry that he can’t seem to get it right for her. They curl their sorry around each other. For the first time like this, conscious closeness. He lets her lead, shifting closer only when her fingers curl in the front of his t-shirt, draping a careful arm around her waist, only letting it rest there when the quick tensing of her body smoothes out. 

How long does it take? For them to fit all the pieces of themselves together. A slow process, a small process, muscle shifting and shaping around muscle until her nose is pressed in the center of his chest, and his palms have spanned the slope of her spine. 

Sleep, he finds, comes easily like this.

…

The vet comes later in the day, a merciful break in the snow. Lucy is fine, he says,  just an unlucky first season. Dolores doesn’t speak to the man, but keeps close, arms crossed over her chest and mouth screwed to the side. 

There is just enough daylight left for them to go into town after the vet leaves, groceries and the library, and Joel using whatever will he has left to not ask  the question that has been chewing at the edges of his mind since last night. No good way to ask it, no right way, wanting to know where she learned to care like that, pretty certain that he already does. 

Until unfortunately, after dinner, on the couch, the words find their awkward way out of his mouth. A question that’s more like observation. She sighs. 

And he learns that hers is a phantom care. Something that could have been, but wasn’t. Something that she didn’t let get far enough for it to become another thing shackling her to husband. How often small things, cared-for things, become pawns, become lock and key and chain. How quickly love can get used against us. No, she did not let that happen. 

“Did he know?”

“He knew nothing.”  They sit on the couch side by side, close enough that her shoulder brushes against his with every small shift she makes. So when he asks her how she managed that, she doesn’t look at him when she answers, eyes turned down to her hands in her lap.

“I caught it early, so it was simple.” He nearly laughs, because what else could he do with the sick feeling her words swirl in his stomach? Nothing about this is simple, no matter how hard she tries to convince him that it is, tries to convince herself that it is. What gets saved, and what must be lost. 

“Dove.” Quiet and small, she makes an indignant noise in the back of her throat at the way he says it.

“Don’t, Joel. I don’t regret what I did.”

“I didn’t say that you should.”

“Well, I don’t.” Anger, that’s what this is. What it has been since last night. He hasn’t seen her angry, not before this. Like she doesn’t quite know what to do with it, fists bunched up, knuckles tightening over and over again, on the brink of tears. 

He can, he thinks that he knows he can, that she will not recoil if he does. Though he still moves slowly, plenty of space and time for her to give him no. But she doesn’t, lets him smooth out the tight furl of one of her hands with his. Fingertip to fingertip, every line in his palm pressed to hers. 

There is nothing that he could say. And there is no making this right, any of it. But he can hold it for her, right here, in his palm. 

She has managed to sustain this anger for long enough that he can see the fatigue starting to slip in around the edges of it. The pained pinch between her brow, and the way she keeps letting out little huffs that are starting to sound more like sighs. He sits with her, watches and waits for it to turn from simmer to slump. And when it does, he is ready to tuck her into his side, and she is ready to allow it. 

“I don’t like that vet.” Said with a weak breath of a laugh, he can feel the small jump of it in her ribs pressed into the side of his.

“He’s just doing his job.”

“I know, I still don’t like him.”

“Then I don’t like him either.” He thinks he can see a smile trying not to curl in the corner of her mouth. Like bird or butterfly, some rare and winged miracle in her palm settling on his thigh, soothing a circle into the fabric of his jeans. Her care, and how she shows it. 

…

It’s another week before Avril gives birth. Two perfect girls that come in the middle of the day. They meet them in the evening, just home from work, Dolores always heading to the barn first before anything else, still in her uniform. The rest of the herd steps aside, something dignified in how they part around her to let her into the barn, clear now who they really answer to these days. For every martyr there is mercy, and it comes in the sight of two small, uncertain bodies, stumbling over each other, still tinged pink around their young angles, already nursing sure and strong  from their mother. 

He knows that these lambs can be sold for slaughter. Small, unknowing bodies are worth so much, after all. But he has never had the stomach to do it, something that will soon be a problem with how the flock continues to grow year after year. Maybe he will just build a bigger barn when the time comes for it.

“Will you name them?” She’s pleased with his question, he can tell, a smile over her shoulder for him. She names the one with a blot of black on her nose Punch, and the one with ears pink as shells Judy. A peculiar harkening to those old, slapstick puppet shows, though maybe it’s fitting with the way the lambs shove and stutter into each other, still learning grace. 

Dolores maintains a distance of respect, her arms clasped around her middle, intent to watch new mother and daughters figuring each other out for the first time. Not wanting to disturb, Joel murmurs something about starting dinner, only a faint nod from her as he steps out of the barn. 

He has gotten better in the kitchen these days, Dolores showing him how, to the point that dinner is almost ready by the time she comes inside. Her cheeks are flushed down by frost and something else, something that’s rounding them up until her eyes crinkle. Warmth floods in his chest at the sight. 

“I could watch them all night, but I don’t think Avril would appreciate that.” 

“She’s always tended toward the fiercer side, but I reckon she wouldn’t mind your company.” Because he certainly wouldn’t, not ever. Never minding, not with her. 

When they sit down to dinner, it’s intentional, the way he keeps his chair tucked in a little closer so that his knees brush against hers under the table. If she notices, if it bothers her, she doesn’t show it, cheek propped in palm, all the ways this is different now. Puts her elbows on the table now. Takes a bite before he does now. Small, contented sounds in the back of her throat now, a swell of pride that he did okay for her. 

… 

“I need to buy a new coat.” 

“Alright, then you and I are gonna have that talk.” That talk, the one he promised to Patty two months ago. He’s done a good job of avoiding her, blame it on the weather, blame it on the holidays, on business that no one in this town can really lay claim to. But he had to come in, because he needs a new coat, happy to give his old one to Dolores, who seemed glad enough to be wearing it that he wouldn’t imagine ever asking for it back. Or maybe he’s the one glad enough that she’s wearing it. Either way, there was no more avoiding Patty, a new coat too needed. 

Easy enough to find something that fits, something warm enough, it’s the rest that he’s worried about. Maybe not worried, but resigned. Because with Patty, there is never anything except for the truth. 

It all comes out slowly, a bit awkward. After all, Joel has been telling many lies lately. But he tells it all to her, sitting in the backroom of the shop, surrounded by the sweet, soft smell of old clothes. And when he finishes speaking, Patty sits back, silent for a moment, nodding, the lines around her mouth deepening in a tight purse.

“And that’s all of it?” 

“Yes.” 

“And he’s not coming back?”

“No.”

“Who else knows?”

“No one, just you.” 

“Jesus, Joel.” Like a scolded child, the fact of the mess he has made finally faced by someone else. And it is a mess, he knows that. That doesn’t make him want it any less. 

“Does she plan on staying?” A question he wasn’t prepared for, because he has been battering it away to the edges of his mind, not letting it seep in. A good question, one he cannot answer. Patty sighs when he says nothing in reply. 

“Is she okay?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.” Yes, he can answer that with perfect confidence. Even with everything that isn’t right, that hasn’t been right, he knows that Dolores is okay. That, at the very least, something he can be sure of, make sure of.

“Well, okay then.” It is left at that. Because, somehow, Patty understands. And he’s pretty sure that a handy majority of the people in town would understand too, not that he is eager to test that theory. It takes something happening to move to a town like this. It takes something happening to choose a town like this. It takes something happening to get out, and not look back. 

…

Something has changed again. Still the shared, quiet ascent upstairs at night. Except now, there is no his side, and there is no her side. They are still slow about it, shy about it, but eventually, every night, their bodies relearn the boundaries of one another, seeking out the softest parts, the places that will give to a gentle palm or a tired cheek. Sometimes, she still cries, the small shake of it beneath his hands, over his ribs. But there’s no more thrashing, no more dormant violence. Maybe she just needed something to hold onto. 

..................................

taglist: @cassiopeia @eleganthottubfun @anoverwhelmingdin @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @suzmagine @syakhairi @spookyxsam @northernbluess @hier--soir @joelsgreys @wannab-urs @tieronecrush @trulybetty @softlyspector @noisynightmarepoetry @csarab615 @ratoonstown @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @lizzie-cakes @beskarandblasters @narxisus

[pugzman3]

Psalms chapter 126

1 (A Song of degrees.) When the LORD turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream.

2 Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing: then said they among the heathen, The LORD hath done great things for them.

3 The LORD hath done great things for us; whereof we are glad.

4 Turn again our captivity, O LORD, as the streams in the south.

5 They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.

6 He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

How Lonely Lies the City

1 How doth the city sit solitary, that was full of people! how is she become as a widow! she that was great among the nations, and princess among the provinces, how is she become tributary!

2 She weepeth sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks: among all her lovers she hath none to comfort her: all her friends have dealt treacherously with her, they are become her enemies.

3 Judah is gone into captivity because of affliction, and because of great servitude: she dwelleth among the heathen, she findeth no rest: all her persecutors overtook her between the straits.

4 The ways of Zion do mourn, because none come to the solemn feasts: all her gates are desolate: her priests sigh, her virgins are afflicted, and she is in bitterness.

5 Her adversaries are the chief, her enemies prosper; for the Lord hath afflicted her for the multitude of her transgressions: her children are gone into captivity before the enemy.

6 And from the daughter of Zion all her beauty is departed: her princes are become like harts that find no pasture, and they are gone without strength before the pursuer.

7 Jerusalem remembered in the days of her affliction and of her miseries all her pleasant things that she had in the days of old, when her people fell into the hand of the enemy, and none did help her: the adversaries saw her, and did mock at her sabbaths.

8 Jerusalem hath grievously sinned; therefore she is removed: all that honoured her despise her, because they have seen her nakedness: yea, she sigheth, and turneth backward.

9 Her filthiness is in her skirts; she remembereth not her last end; therefore she came down wonderfully: she had no comforter. O Lord, behold my affliction: for the enemy hath magnified himself.

10 The adversary hath spread out his hand upon all her pleasant things: for she hath seen that the heathen entered into her sanctuary, whom thou didst command that they should not enter into thy congregation.

11 All her people sigh, they seek bread; they have given their pleasant things for meat to relieve the soul: see, O Lord, and consider; for I am become vile.

12 Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger.

13 From above hath he sent fire into my bones, and it prevaileth against them: he hath spread a net for my feet, he hath turned me back: he hath made me desolate and faint all the day.

14 The yoke of my transgressions is bound by his hand: they are wreathed, and come up upon my neck: he hath made my strength to fall, the Lord hath delivered me into their hands, from whom I am not able to rise up.

15 The Lord hath trodden under foot all my mighty men in the midst of me: he hath called an assembly against me to crush my young men: the Lord hath trodden the virgin, the daughter of Judah, as in a winepress.

16 For these things I weep; mine eye, mine eye runneth down with water, because the comforter that should relieve my soul is far from me: my children are desolate, because the enemy prevailed.

17 Zion spreadeth forth her hands, and there is none to comfort her: the Lord hath commanded concerning Jacob, that his adversaries should be round about him: Jerusalem is as a menstruous woman among them.

18 The Lord is righteous; for I have rebelled against his commandment: hear, I pray you, all people, and behold my sorrow: my virgins and my young men are gone into captivity.

19 I called for my lovers, but they deceived me: my priests and mine elders gave up the ghost in the city, while they sought their meat to relieve their souls.

20 Behold, O Lord; for I am in distress: my bowels are troubled; mine heart is turned within me; for I have grievously rebelled: abroad the sword bereaveth, at home there is as death.

21 They have heard that I sigh: there is none to comfort me: all mine enemies have heard of my trouble; they are glad that thou hast done it: thou wilt bring the day that thou hast called, and they shall be like unto me.

22 Let all their wickedness come before thee; and do unto them, as thou hast done unto me for all my transgressions: for my sighs are many, and my heart is faint. — Lamentations 1 | King James Version (KJV) The King James Version Bible is in the public domain. Cross References: Genesis 3:7; Exodus 9:27; Leviticus 26:36; Deuteronomy 23:3; Deuteronomy 32:25; Deuteronomy 32:29; 1 Samuel 30:12; 1 Kings 4:21; 2 Kings 25:4-5; Nehemiah 4:4-5; Job 19:6; Job 19:13-14; Psalm 35:15; Psalm 42:4; Psalm 69:20; Psalm 88:16; Psalm 90:7-8; Proverbs 5:22; Isaiah 3:26; Jeremiah 4:30-31; Revelation 14:20

[dafukdidiwatch]

THIS THE GODDAMN LORE

RELIGIOUS TEXT

ANCIENT MYTH

KAT'S GIRLFRIEND BROKE UP WITH HER WEEPETH THE ROBOTS

[lesser-known-composers]

William Lawes - She weepeth full sore ·

English Ayres

[renaissanceclassics]

The Pilgrim's Progress: Part 16

Listen to: Book 2, 2nd stage, at Renaissance Classics Podcast.

Uncertainties "By this time CHRISTIANA was got on her way; and MERCY went along with her. So as they went, her children being there also, CHRISTIANA began to discourse. And, 'MERCY,' said CHRISTIANA, 'I take this as an unexpected favour that thou shouldst set foot out of doors with me, to accompany me a little in my way.'

"Mercy. Then said young MERCY (for she was but young), 'If I thought it would be to purpose to go with you, I would never go near the town any more.' "Christiana: 'Well, MERCY,' said CHRISTIANA, 'cast in thy lot with me. I well know what will be the end of our pilgrimage: my husband is where he would not but be for all the gold in the Spanish mines. Nor shalt thou be rejected, though thou goest but upon my invitation. The King who hath sent for me and my children is one that delights in mercy. Besides, if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me as my servant. Yet we will have all things in common betwixt thee and me; only go along with me.' " Mercy: But how shall I be ascertained that I also shall be entertained? Had I this hope but from one that can tell, I would make no stick at all; but would go, being helped by him that can help, though the way was never so tedious. "Christiana: Well, loving MERCY, I will tell thee what thou shalt do. Go with me to the wicket gate, and there I will further inquire for thee; and if there thou shalt not meet with encouragement, I will be content that thou shalt return to thy place. I also will pay thee for thy kindness which thou showest to me and my children, in thy accompanying of us in our way as thou doest. " Mercy: Then will I go thither, and will take what shall follow; and the Lord grant that my lot may there fall even as the King of heaven shall have his heart upon me! "CHRISTIANA then was glad in her heart, not only that she had a companion, but also for that she had prevailed with this poor maid to fall in love with her own salvation. So they went on together; and MERCY began to weep. Then said CHRISTIANA, 'Wherefore weepest my sister so?' " Mercy: 'Alas!' said she, 'who can but lament that shall but rightly consider what a state and condition my poor relations are in that yet remain in our sinful town? and that which makes my grief the more heavy is, because they have no instructor, nor any to tell them what is to come.' "Christiana: Bowels becomes pilgrims. And thou dost for thy friends as my good CHRISTIAN did for me when he left me; he mourned for that I would not heed nor regard him; but his Lord and ours did gather up his tears, and put them into his bottle; and now both I, and thou, and these my sweet babes, are reaping the fruit and benefit of them. I hope, MERCY, these tears of thine will not be lost: for the truth hath said, that 'they that sow in tears shall reap in joy, in singing. And he that goes forth and weeps, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him'.

"They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." ~ Psalms 126:5, 6 ~

"Then said MERCY: 'Let the Most Blessed be my guide, If it be his blessed will, Unto his gate, into his fold, Up to his holy hill. And let him never suffer me To swerve or turn aside From his free grace and holy ways, Whate'er shall me betide. And let him gather them of mine That I have left behind. Lord, make them pray they may be Thine, With all their heart and mind."'

Now my old friend proceeded, and said, "But when CHRISTIANA came up to the Slough of Despond, she began to be at a stand: 'For,' said she, 'this is the place in which my dear husband had like to have been smothered with mud.' She perceived also, that notwithstanding the command of the King to make this place for pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than formerly." So I asked if that was true? "Yes," said the old gentleman, "too true. For that many there be that pretend to be the King's labourers, and that say they are for mending the King's highway, that bring din and dung instead of stones, and so mar instead of mending. Here CHRISTIANA therefore, with her boys, did make a stand. But said MERCY, 'Come, let us venture, only let us be wary.' Then they looked well to the steps, and made a shift to get staggeringly over. "Yet CHRISTIANA had like to have been in, and that not once nor twice. Now they had no sooner got over, but they thought they heard words that said unto them, 'Blessed is she that believes; for there shall be a performance of those things that have been told her from the Lord'.

"And blessed is she that believed: for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord." ~ Luke 1:45 ~

"Then they went on again. And said MERCY to CHRISTIANA, 'Had I as good ground to hope for a loving reception at the wicket gate as you, I think no Slough of Despond would discourage me.' "'Well,' said the other, 'you know your sore, and I know mine, and, good friend, we shall all have enough evil before we come at our journey's end. For can it be imagined, that the people that design to attain such excellent glories as we do, and that are so envied that happiness as we are, but that we shall meet with what fears and scares, with what troubles and afflictions, they can possibly assault us with that hate us? '" Knocking at the Wicket Gate And now Mr. SAGACITY left me to dream out my dream by myself. Wherefore methought I saw CHRISTIANA, and MERCY, and the boys, go all of them up to the gate. To which when they were come, they betook themselves to a short debate about how they must manage their calling at the gate, and what should be said to him that did open to them. So it was concluded, since CHRISTIANA was the eldest, that she should knock for entrance; and that she should speak to him that did open for the rest. So CHRISTIANA began to knock; and as her poor husband did, she knocked and knocked again. But instead of any that answered, they all thought that they heard as if a dog came barking upon them. A dog, and a great one too; and this made the women and children afraid. Nor durst they for awhile to knock any more, for fear the mastiff should fly upon them. Now, therefore, they were greatly tumbled up and down in their minds, and knew not what to do. Knock they durst not, for fear of the dog; go back they durst not, for fear that the keeper of that gate should espy them as they so went, and should be offended with them. At last they thought of knocking again, and knocked more vehemently than they did at the first. Then said the keeper of the gate, "Who is there?" So the dog left off to bark, and he opened unto them. Then CHRISTIANA made low obeisance, and said, "Let not our Lord be offended with his handmaidens, for that we have knocked at his princely gate." Then said the keeper, "Whence come ye, and what is that ye would have?" CHRISTIANA answered, "We are come from whence CHRISTIAN did come, and upon the same errand as he; to wit, to be, if it shall please you, graciously admitted by this gate into the way that leads to the Celestial City. And I answer my Lord in the next place, that I am CHRISTIANA, once the wife of CHRISTIAN that now is gotten above." With that the keeper of the gate did marvel saying, "What, is she become now a pilgrim, that but awhile ago abhorred that life?" Then she bowed her head, and said, "Yes; and so are these my sweet babes also." Then he took her by the hand, and let her in and said also, "Suffer the little children to come unto Me;" and with that he shut up the gate. This done, he called to a trumpeter that was above over the gate, to entertain CHRISTIANA with shouting and sound of trumpet for joy.

"I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance." ~ Luke 15:7 ~

So he obeyed and sounded, and filled the air with his melodious notes. Now all this while poor MERCY did stand without, trembling and crying for fear that she was rejected. But when CHRISTIANA had gotten admittance for herself and her boys, then she began to make intercession for MERCY. Christiana: And she said, "My Lord, I have a companion of mine that stands yet without, that is come hither upon the same account as myself: one that is much dejected in her mind; for that she comes, as she thinks, without sending for, whereas I was sent to by my husband's King to come." Now MERCY began to be very impatient, for each minute was as long to her as an hour; wherefore she prevented CHRISTIANA from a fuller interceding for her, by knocking at the gate herself: and she knocked then so loud, that she made CHRISTIANA to start. Then said the keeper of the gate, "Who is there?" And said CHRISTIANA, "It is my friend." So he opened the gate, and looked out; but MERCY was fallen down without in a swoon, for she fainted, and was afraid that no gate would be opened to her. Then he took her by the hand, and said, "Damsel, I bid thee arise." "Oh, sir," said she, "I am faint; there is scarce life left in me." But he answered that "one once said, 'When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord, and my prayer came in unto Thee, into Thy holy temple'.

"When my soul fainted within me I remembered the LORD: and my prayer came in unto thee, into thine holy temple." ~ John 2:7 ~

Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell Me wherefore thou art come." Mercy: I am come for that unto which I was never invited, as my friend CHRISTIANA was. Hers was from the King, and mine was but from her; wherefore I fear I presume. Keeper of Gate. "Did she desire thee to come with her to this place?" Mercy: Yes; and, as my Lord sees, I am come. And if there is any grace or forgiveness of sins to spare, I beseech that I, thy poor handmaid, may be partaker thereof. Then he took her again by the hand, and led her gently in, and said, "I pray for all them that believe on Me, by what means soever they come unto Me." Then said he to those that stood by, "Fetch something, and give it to MERCY to smell on, thereby to stay her fainting." So they fetched her a bundle of myrrh, and awhile after she was revived. And now was CHRISTIANA and her boys, and MERCY, received of the Lord at the head of the way, and spoke kindly unto by him. Then said they yet further unto him, "We are sorry for our sins, and beg of our Lord his pardon; and further information what we must do." "I grant pardon," said he, "by word and deed: by word, in the promise of forgiveness; by deed, in the way I obtained it. Take the first from my lips with a kiss, and the other as it shall be revealed".

"Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine." ~ Song of Solomon 1:2 ~ "And when he had so said, he shewed unto them his hands and his side. Then were the disciples glad, when they saw the Lord." ~ John 20:20 ~

Now I saw in my dream that he spake many good words unto them, whereby they were greatly gladdened. he also had them up to the top of the gate, and showed them by what deed they were saved; and told them withal, that that sight they would have again as they went along in the way, to their comfort. So he left them awhile in a summer parlour below, where they entered into talk by themselves. And thus CHRISTIANA began, "O Lord, how glad am I that we are got in hither!" Mercy: So you well may; but I, of all, have cause to leap for joy. Christiana: I thought one time, as I stood at the gate (because I had knocked, and none did answer), that all our labour had been lost; specially when that ugly cur made such a heavy barking against us. Mercy: But my worst fear was after I saw that you were taken into his favour, and that I was left behind. Now, thought I, 'tis fulfilled which is written, "Two women shall be grinding together; the one shall be taken, and the other left".

"Two women shall be grinding at the mill; the one shall be taken, and the other left." ~ Matthew 24:41 ~

I had much ado to forbear crying out, Undone, undone! And afraid I was to knock any more; but when I looked up to what was written over the gate, I took courage. I also thought that I must either knock again, or die. So I knocked; but I cannot tell how, for my spirit now struggled betwixt life and death. Christiana: Can you not tell how you knocked? I am sure your knocks were so earnest, that the very sound of them made me start; I thought I never heard such knocking in all my life. I thought you would have come in by violent hands, or have taken the Kingdom by storm.

"And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force." ~ Matthew 11:12 ~

Mercy: Alas! to be in my case, who that so was could but have done so? You saw that the door was shut upon me; and that there was a most cruel dog thereabout. Who, I say, that was so fainthearted as I, that would not have knocked with all their might? But pray, what said my Lord to my rudeness? Was he not angry with me? Christiana: When he heard your lumbering noise, he gave a wonderful innocent smile. I believe what you did pleased him well enough; for he showed no sign to the contrary. But I marvel in my heart why he keeps such a dog. Had I known that afore, I fear I should not have had heart enough to have ventured myself in this manner. But now we are in, we are in; and I am glad with all my heart. Mercy: I will ask, if you please, next time he comes down, why he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard. I hope he will not take it amiss. "Ay, do," said the children; "and persuade him to hang him, for we are afraid he will bite us when we go hence."

So at last he came down to them again; and MERCY fell to the ground on her face before him, and worshipped, and said, "Let my Lord accept of the sacrifice of praise which I now offer unto him with the calves of my lips." So he said unto her, "Peace be to thee: stand up." But she continued upon her face and said, "Righteous art Thou, O Lord, when I plead with Thee; yet let me talk with Thee of thy judgments:

"Righteous art thou, O LORD, when I plead with thee: yet let me talk with thee of thy judgments: Wherefore doth the way of the wicked prosper? wherefore are all they happy that deal very treacherously? Thou hast planted them, yea, they have taken root: they grow, yea, they bring forth fruit: thou art near in their mouth, and far from their reins." ~ Jeremiah 12:1, 2 ~

wherefore dost Thou keep so cruel a dog in thy yard, at the sight of which such women and children as we are ready to fly from thy gate for fear?" He answered, and said, "That dog has another owner; he also is kept close in another man's ground, only my pilgrims hear his barking. He belongs to the castle which you see there at a distance, but can come up to the walls of this place. He has frightened many an honest pilgrim from worse to better by the great voice of his roaring. Indeed, he that owns him doth not keep him of any good will to Me or mine; but with intent to keep the pilgrims from coming to Me, and that they may be afraid to knock at this gate for entrance. Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried some that I love; but I take all at present patiently. I also give my pilgrims timely help; so that they are not delivered up to his power, to do to them what his doggish nature would prompt him to. But what! My purchased one, I trow, hadst thou known never so much beforehand, thou wouldst not have been afraid of a dog. The beggars that go from door to door will, rather than they will lose a supposed alms, run the hazard of the bawling, barking, and biting too, of a dog; and shall a dog, a dog in another man's yard, a dog whose barking I turn to the profit of pilgrims, keep any from coming to Me? I deliver them from the lions, their darling from the power of the dog." Mercy: Then said MERCY, "I confess my ignorance; I spake what I understand not: I acknowledge that Thou doest all things well." Then CHRISTIANA began to talk of their journey, and to inquire after the way. So he fed them, and washed their feet; and set them in the way of his steps, according as he had dealt with her husband before.

[babygirllittleman]

"He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him."

— Psalms 126:6

[f8ithgal]

November 9, 2024

Lamentations 1-2; Hebrews 7 [Lamentations 1:1-22 KJV] 1 How doth the city sit solitary, [that was] full of people! [how] is she become as a widow! she [that was] great among the nations, [and] princess among the provinces, [how] is she become tributary! 2 She weepeth sore in the night, and her tears [are] on her cheeks: among all her lovers she hath none to comfort [her]: all her friends have…

[yokefellows]

Heartfelt Soul Winning Brings a Bountiful Harvest

Today’s Saying

Being a good Christian means knowing the Scriptures; being a great Christian means knowing the Saviour.

Today’s Scripture

“He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.” Psalm 126:6

Today’s Sermonette

Do you know what you’re doing in the morning when you have a quiet time? Weeding your garden.

You’re weeding the garden of your mind, so that the good seed of the Word of God can multiply.

Now, the next step is to plant the seed and cultivate His harvest.

And when you go out to win souls, water the crop with your tears.

Read how the Lord’s heart broke over the people He longed to embrace and love unto Himself (see John 17).

Learn this same sort of compassion in the garden God has given you to harvest for His kingdom.

Ask God to put you into His fields of service today. Ask Him to make you bold, yet compassionate and wise to share His Good News.

Today’s Supplication

Father, put me into Your fields of service today, quicken me and embolden me, yet compassionate and wise to share Your good News. Amen!

Today’s Scripture

“He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.” Psalm 126:6

Today’s Sermonette

Do you know what you’re doing in the morning when you have a quiet time? Weeding your garden.

You’re weeding the garden of your mind, so that the good seed of the Word of God can multiply.

Now, the next step is to plant the seed and cultivate His harvest.

And when you go out to win souls, water the crop with your tears.

Read how the Lord’s heart broke over the people He longed to embrace and love unto Himself (see John 17).

Learn this same sort of compassion in the garden God has given you to harvest for His kingdom.

Ask God to put you into His fields of service today. Ask Him to make you bold, yet compassionate and wise to share His Good News.

Today’s Supplication

Father, put me into Your fields of service today, quicken me and embolden me, yet compassionate and wise to share Your good News. Amen!

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for October 23, 2024

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 26:27 (KJV): 27 Whoso diggeth a pit shall fall therein: and he that rolleth a stone, it will return upon him. Proverbs 26:27 (AMP): 27 Whoever digs a pit (for another man's feet) shall fall into it himself, and he who rolls a stone (up a height to do mischief), it will return upon him.

Thought for the Day

Those who try to trap or hurt others will find themselves entrapped and hurt by their own devices. This is based on the spiritual law of sowing and reaping. As we have seen in previous studies, the Bible teaches that we reap the same kinds of things that we sow (Galatians 6:7-8). In the natural, if we plant a tomato seed, we will have a tomato plant, not a thistle. Good seed produces beneficial plants; bad seed produces harmful plants. This particular principal appears in different forms throughout the Bible, starting in Genesis, where we find the law that everything produces fruit after its kind (Genesis 1:11,29).

In the beginning, everything God created for man was blessed and good. However, when Adam and Eve sinned, the earth came under a curse, and now the ground would also produce things that brought pain to mankind. "And unto Adam he said, because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it: cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field" (Genesis 3:17-18).

After God evicted Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden, man was given the responsibility to choose good or evil. He still holds this responsibility in the natural and spiritual realm. As Adam was given the choice between life through obedience and death through disobedience, so are we. We now choose which law we submit to - the law of life in Christ, or the law of sin and death. We are freed from the law of sin and death when we accept Jesus as our Savior (Romans 8:1-2). When we submit to Him and resist the devil, he must flee. He can no longer enforce his case against us; nor has he any authority over us, as Jesus stripped him of his power. However, we must by faith stand in this position of authority.

"Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, ye sinners; and purify your hearts, ye double-minded. Be afflicted, and mourn, and weep: let your laughter be turned to mourning, and your joy to heaviness. Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up" (James 4:7-10). We humble ourselves by confessing our sin with godly sorrow; by turning from it in our actions; by honoring the Lord in obeying His Word. If we sow His Word in prayer, we will in time rejoice, for our prayers will produce a harvest of blessings. "They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him" (Psalm 126:5-6).

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, I praise You for the opportunity to sow good things in the kingdom. Lord, deliver me from any fear that would keep me from turning loose of things I need to sow into Your work. Grant me the grace to give freely of all You have given me, knowing that I will reap in like kind. If I need finances, may I obediently give support to Your works. If I need encouragement, may I take the time to sow it into the lives of those around me? May I be known, as You were known -- a person who went about doing good. Cleanse my thoughts, so that I will not even sow a bad idea toward others. I ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

[fullnessofjoy]

[tbakes]

Bearing Precious Seed

He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him…Psalm 126.6 “He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed…” This verse relates to the returning Jews from exile who come back to a land abandoned, bitter, and dry which had not been cultivated for years. The Jews went forward to the farms holding onto…

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

A Spiritual Treasury For The Children of God

by William Mason

"What profit is it, that we have kept his ordinance, and that we have walked mournfully before the Lord of Hosts?" – Malachi 3:14

These words were spoken to the carnal Jews. They may be applied to us. For the filthy leaven of the proud Pharisee, works in all our natures. At least, I know one who finds it does. What does it produce? Hard thoughts of God, and stout words against him. We are apt to censure his good conduct towards others, and think he deals rather hardly with us. (1st.) “We call the proud happy.” In a dark, tried, tempted, deserted hour, when we see the poor, proud sons of pride and folly, ranting and reveling in all the gay scenes of mirth and jollity, we are apt to look at them, think of them, and draw such conclusions from them as these-Well, surely these people are happier in their ways, than I am in mine. They are strangers to my heart burdens and soul distresses. Mirth sits on their countenance, while grief and sorrow weigh me down. This was the experience of David, Job, Asaph, and the prophets. We frequently find them at times, sorely distressed on account of this. The chief of sinners, and the least of all saints, who now writes, has also been often tried and tempted in this matter. (2d.) We say, “They who work wickedness are set up.” It staggers our reason, to see open notorious and ungodly flourish in great esteem and abundance: while I think, if I am a child of God, I am despised, and can but just get the necessaries of life, and those with hard labour, and much care. (3d.) “Those who tempt God, are even delivered.” If they get into troubles and perplexities, though they daringly provoke God to his face, yet they find friends enough to deliver them, while I combat my troubles daily and no man cares for my soul. And therefore, (4th.) The words of the text are taken up. “What profit is it,” etc. O my soul! Lie low before the Lord. Be ashamed of thy base, carnal reasonings against, and unbelieving thoughts of thy God. What profit? Pride avaunt. Look not to thy keeping his ordinances, and walking mournfully in deep humiliation before the Lord. Yet do both constantly. But look to a covenant God in Christ-look at the precious free-grace promises, which are in him: look to the Comforter, to receive freely out of the fulness of Jesus, love and salvation. Look not at others with an eye of envy, but look at thyself, with an eye of astonishment, and adore the distinguishing love of the Lord. What if thou hast not expected comforts in the way- what if thou walkest mournfully all the way: yet thou art blessed, and hast blessed promises to support thee. “Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4.) Mind that precious word. They who sow in tears, shall reap in joy. He that weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, Psalms 126:5-6.

O that I had a stronger faith, To look within the vail: To credit what my Saviour saith, Whose words can never fail.

[dashingdejonkheer]

Oft in the shadowed night I lie forlorn,

A heart full heavy, with sorrow overworn,

For though the race I run with swiftened stride,

My worth doth falter, buried deep inside.

Yon mighty deeds, though they doth brightly gleam,

Are but the fleeting shadows of a dream.

In feats of strength my soul I seek to find,

Yet hollow grows the praise, the cheer, the kind.

For in the chase, my self I do forget,

And 'neath the laurel, still my brow is wet.

The harder fought, the emptier I feel,

The pain within no victory can heal.

Oft would I trade these garlands for a peace,

Where heart and mind from striving find release.

Yet bound am I to measure all my worth,

By fleeting glories won upon this earth.

So evermore I strive, and evermore,

My soul in silence weepeth at its core.