#| ❝ SELFISH SENTIMENTALITY ❞ | ~ Mercy Verse

[scientistredacted]

❝IT APPEARS YOU HAVE REACHED❞ ❝AN END.❞

[kindcstguardian]

NAME. Lilith / Isabel Blum BIRTHDAY.   (   ). AGE. Appears to be in her mid-twenties. BLOOD TYPE. O+. HEIGHT. 167cm. WEIGHT. 56kg.

LANGUAGES. German, Romanian &&. English. Can read Latin.

GENDER. Female. SEXUALITY. Pansexual. STATUS. Verse dependant.

OCCUPATION.  Psychology student &&. part-time worker at The Royal Library.

GENERAL DESCRIPTION.

  After being REINCARNATED for the second time, Lilith   or this life’s given name,   Isabela is puzzled at what to do. She was helped by Diavolo and led a good, happy life with the one she loved and both had died at old age, leaving a legacy behind. But now?  Why was she brought into the world AGAIN with her previous’ lives memories?  Furthermore, it’s not like she can openly mention this to ANYONE, now that she had landed in The Devildom. What kind of conflict could this cause?  However, she plans to help her family from the sidelines, helping her descendant by acting as a guide.

BACKGROUND.

   The female spent more time in the hospital than she spent outside due to her poor health ( it had been a risky pregnancy, her mother also had to spend a month or so afterwards ), however, her memories are INTACT since the very moment her eyes first opened and stared at the faces of the nurses and doctors that aided her birth. That alone was a signal that she, a newborn, was not normal.    Learning to read at three, write half a year later since she didn’t have that much coordination with her small hands neither the strength required initially... Speaking followed before she turned four. As she grew older and asked too many questions, she was labeled a GENIUS but that wasn't it, that was plain WRONG. Her mother, a believer in the tarot and unspoken arts, brought her to a local witch to inquire further about the  ( supposed )  wisdom her daughter had... only to find out that said daughter wasn’t even truly hers, or wasn’t even originally human. It was a mix of BITTERSWEET feelings but mostly UNDERSTANDING, as if Isabel parents had foreseen this turn of events.    Despite that particular event, her parents only overprotected her even more.

VERSES.

MAIN VERSE.

TAG.  「 001  ／ Isabel 」

Exchange student, reincarnated as a human for the second time.

   It hadn’t been easy to accept this.    Isabel was aware that she had been chosen for this program but FEARED the actual answer, which is why she dodged the topic and refrained from asking, merely listening to Diavolo’s explanation and trying not to stare at her brother. However, she quickly realized that she wasn’t the only human as there were two more, one had been Solomon  ( someone who she would avoid, he might be able to deduce who she is if they spend an hour within the same room )  and someone else who, at first glance, appeared normal     but there was SOMETHING about them that made Isabel want to protect them, it was the similar sentiment she once had with her children.    It raised the question, why was she drawn to them in the same manner she was drawn to her brothers?  Isabel might have been Lilith once, but that life and this one were eons apart. For once, she would have loved to speak to her first life, but that’s when dreams are oversleeping came to play: lost memories returning, and the one hidden room she found.

NOTE. She is a sidekick of the MC.

SECOND VERSE.

TAG.  「 002  ／ Isabel 」

Pre-game, before The Celestial War.

   Ever so INTRIGUED about humans and their ever so changing nature, it was an expected outcome for her to develop romantic feelings towards a single human, the man who was the start and end of many, many things.

THIRD VERSE.

TAG.  「 003  ／ Isabel 」

Post-war, reincarnated as a human. Married.

   After escaping death’s fangs, Lilith was eternally grateful to her oldest brother Lucifer and his great sacrifice for her, even though God, their father, would no longer listen to them and most likely curse her lineage since He was MERCIFUL when needed and CRUEL when someone rebelled like they all had acted     she was still found everyday before sunrise inside the Church, praying for the well-being of her siblings, begging to someone who wouldn’t listen for their happiness. As selfish as that sounded, and she should know... The peculiar marks on her back, the supposed birthmarks were actually the place were wings once had been. A reminder of who she had been and what she gave up.    But, despite all that took place, Lilith not once felt such thing as regret. As a human, she could REINVENT herself and give meaning to her life, the meaning she wanted instead of being forced to follow a certain path with blinded eyes.

FORTH VERSE.

TAG.  「 004  ／ Isabel 」

Pre-game, reincarnated as a human for the second time.

   After finishing highschool in an all-female academy, Isabel kept on pursuing higher education and chose to study PSYCHOLOGY in a catholic university, out of interest and curiosity. Her past-time might be trying to find the little information she could about who Lilith had been, but it was difficult when she had been erased. This was clearly upsetting and frustrated her to no end, but there was little she could do as a human with her magic sealed within her: humans, after all, tend to possess little to none, and whilst she had a great potential, it was locked and Isabel didn’t know the trigger to unlock that. There was also little to do when she didn’t know for sure how to contact the supernatural, or establish any type of connection with her siblings.    So, for the time being, she was content with studying about the human mind.

FIFTH VERSE.

TAG.  「 005  ／ Isabel 」

Post-game, reincarnated as a human for the second time.

   Instead of ever assisting RAD, she stays in the human world blissfully ignorant to the unfolding chaos and solutions taking place in The Devildom. In that time, she already took a couple of steps towards becoming a psychologist, four years in and only six to go, another four is she tries extremely hard.

EPHEMERAL: THE RESIDENTS OF THE DARK VERSE.

TAG.  「 Ephemeral ／ Isabel 」

Demon.

Tba.

ELDARYA VERSE.

TAG.  「 Eldarya  ／ Isabel 」

Daemon, part of the Garde Eel.

    Isabel had always disapproved of Leiftan due to his double-sided and vengeful nature  ( which GRANTED she understood after losing her own family to the tragedy, the sacrifice for the BALANCE )  and vowed loyatly to Miiko until her last breath since the seven-tailed fox was their new leader     both of this actions would lead her to be left bedridden UNTIL the Oracle woke at the arrival of the newest addition of Eldarya, a human named Erika who would be the savior or very well destroy the entity of what their world is.

THE ARCANA VERSE.

TAG.  「 The Arcana  ／ Isabel 」

Tbaa

Tba.

? VERSE.

TAG.  「 00?  ／ Isabel 」

Tba.

TAGS.

「 Isabel Blum ／ 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐡 」

「 Isabel Blum ／ INQUIRY」

「 Isabel Blum ／ MUSINGS 」

「 Isabel Blum ／ VISAGE 」

「 Isabel Blum ／ MANNERISMS 」

「 Isabel Blum ／ HEADCANON 」

「 Isabel Blum ／ INTROSPECTION」

「 Isabel Blum ／ ROMANCE 」

「 Isabel Blum ／ CRACK 」

RELATIONSHIPS.

✘ ·  ♡（   ）

[sitandbreatheitout]

Day 10/40: Train Up A Child

Start at Day 1

Today, we make a giant pivot from politics to child development. When I started writing my faith journey story, I had some main topics in mind as I considered the big issues that caused me to leave Evangelicalism. Today’s topic is, just like yesterday, NOT one of the “Big Three” (homosexuality, hell, evolution). Also just like yesterday, I am struck by how this seemingly peripheral issue had such a profound impact on my deconstruction. 

Becoming a mom inspired me to look back at the “Biblical" advice that had been preached to the parents of my own generation. It’s interesting to imagine what it was like for our parents in the 1980s, before life was made so different by having the Internet at our literal fingertips. They didn’t have as many parenting tools at their disposal as we do now, but what they did have was Dr. James C. Dobson. 

Oh, Dr. Dobson. Not many men have had a more profound impact on the American evangelical subculture and the world at large. He first came on the scene in 1970, with his book Dare to Discipline. Dobson had grown dismayed at the social and cultural upheaval he saw around him in the 1960s, blamed it partly on permissive parenting, and thought he had the answer: corporal punishment. To be sure, there was more to his parenting philosophy than spanking and paddling, but he seemed to feel strongly that this specific form of child discipline was a Biblical principle, and it was this main piece of advice that distinguished him from the secular parenting experts of the time. 

Proponents of spanking (Dobson wasn’t/isn't the only one) hold to a literal-ish interpretation of Bible verses that refer to using a “rod” when disciplining a child. [I say “literal-ish” because usually the recommended modern implements include hands, belts, paddles, but not literal rods, though sometimes a wooden switch or paint stirring stick are called for, and maybe those are technically rods?] The most well-known verse is Proverbs 13:24, which says, "Whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.” This is the closest the Bible gets to the popular saying “spare the rod, spoil the child,” which actually comes from a 17th century satirical poem. 

Even though research has shown how harmful and ineffective the corporal punishment of children is, and 58 countries have outlawed its use, many conservative Christians continue to endorse it. If anything, the secular world’s outcry against it just strengthens their resolve, because it makes sense to the evangelical worldview that secular (i.e., ungodly) authorities would contradict the Bible’s teachings. 

I’ve mentioned before the “high stakes” involved in evangelicalism because of the belief in hell. Step one on their path to being saved is admitting you are a sinner. This applies even to the youngest of children, because the theology of “original sin” teaches that Adam and Eve’s sin in the Garden of Eden resulted in all of humankind inheriting their sin nature. We are all born inherently broken, “fallen” in spirit, soul, and body. In this worldview, it is highly important that parents remain in control of their children, because disobedient children aren’t just rebelling against their parents; their hearts are sinning against God himself. Often in conservative Christian circles, children are {jokingly? fondly?} referred to as “little sinners.” Those who espouse this theology will often point to the demanding tantrums of toddlers as proof that humans have sinful hearts from the beginning. Babies are described as selfish and manipulative because of the way they dominate their parents’ time and attention. 

[Look, I get it. Kids are hard work. Sometimes at my weaker moments, I even equate my kids to little jerks, because I find their behavior so infuriating. BUT I’M NOT CLAIMING TO SPEAK FOR GOD. I’d like to think God has more patience than I do, and looks more tenderly on all of us.] 

I’d never especially cared for the teaching of original sin, because it seemed unfair to me, but it was one of those mysteries I tried to trust God with. I grew bored over the debates about it in high school and college, partly because I disliked conflict, but mostly because it all seemed so theoretical and distant. Having a child of my own suddenly made it personal. I had to face the implications because she was literally staring into my eyes. What was I going to teach this beautiful baby in my arms about her true essence as a human being? I couldn’t bear the thought of teaching her that she was inherently polluted and broken.

But what did I know? Wasn’t I just being an emotional, sentimental woman? Then I learned that the ancient Hebrew word for God’s compassion and mercy is ra-cha-mim, taken from the root word re-chem, meaning “womb.” But of course. It wasn’t “soft" to feel deep, protective love for my baby; a mother’s love for the child that grew inside her was a reflection of how God herself looked at all of her children. [If God’s mercy metaphorically comes from a uterus, then God gets a feminine pronoun.] 

This shouldn’t need explaining, but babies cry to get their physical and emotional needs met so they can survive and thrive. The fact that my infant daughter cried for milk every few hours and that my body automatically knew to respond to those cries was a marvel of creation, not a sign of her selfishness. The idea that "needs drive behavior” doesn’t quit applying when our children grow out of the baby stage. All children (and adults!) have important needs, for things like food, human touch, comfort, safety, connection, and exploration. 

So much of parenting (and life, really) turns out to be about the stories my brain tells myself about what is happening. If I believe the child in front of me is acting out of a sinful heart, I’m going to assume negative intent to their actions instead of looking for the message underneath the behavior. Sometimes a kid throws a fit because their blood sugar is low and they need a snack (this is also applicable to adults). Consider how differently we’d respond if we recognized that tantrums are not only normal and sometimes unavoidable, but actually an important and necessary part of how a child learns to deal with their overwhelming emotions? 

As my daughter grew older, we noticed that she was experiencing higher than normal levels of emotional “out of control-ness.” That introduced us to a whole new world of therapy, anxiety disorders, neurologists, sensory processing issues, and pediatric sleep specialists. What showed up in my child as anger, aggression, and tantrums turned out to be the result of anxiety fueled by a neurodevelopmental disorder, a highly sensitive nervous system, and fearful, negative self-talk. I can’t imagine the harm to my child’s heart if we had been treating her outbursts as “sinful” misbehavior. 

I’m so thankful that I ignored the mainstream “Biblical” parenting mindset that would have utterly failed my daughter. My heart breaks when I consider all the children harshly disciplined for what their parents were primed to see as “sin,” when in reality their poor little bodies were dealing with something else entirely: e.g., sensory processing disorders, trauma responses, ADHD, and autism, just to name a few. 

It’s true that many of these conditions are things that we've only really started understanding in the last few decades, so maybe it’s unfair to expect Dr. Dobson’s book, written 50 years ago, to align with the new information we have today. That’s exactly where the idea of “Biblical” advice broke down for me. Evangelicals hold the Bible in very high regard, and many like to refer to it as “God’s instruction manual for life.” The whole conservative Christian system of belief is predicated on the idea that the Bible’s truths and morals are timeless and that’s why we should take them so seriously. 

My experience with my daughter demolished my blind automatic trust in all things labeled “Biblical.” I wasn’t anywhere near considering throwing out the Bible yet, but I was becoming more suspicious of the advice given in its name. Learning about the differing Christian beliefs about politics and child development seemed to be proving that Christians could find Bible verses to support any position they wanted to hold. If "cherry-picking” was so prone to happen, then how did we figure out which ideals and values were the ones God truly wanted us to hold? This was the question driving me as my deconstruction began.

Previous | Table of Contents | Next

[araitsume]

Patriarchs and Prophets, pp. 592-602: Chapter (58) The Schools of the Prophets

The Lord Himself directed the education of Israel. His care was not restricted to their religious interests; whatever affected their mental or physical well-being was also the subject of divine providence, and came within the sphere of divine law.

God had commanded the Hebrews to teach their children His requirements and to make them acquainted with all His dealings with their fathers. This was one of the special duties of every parent—one that was not to be delegated to another. In the place of stranger lips the loving hearts of the father and mother were to give instruction to their children. Thoughts of God were to be associated with all the events of daily life. The mighty works of God in the deliverance of His people and the promises of the Redeemer to come were to be often recounted in the homes of Israel; and the use of figures and symbols caused the lessons given to be more firmly fixed in the memory. The great truths of God's providence and of the future life were impressed on the young mind. It was trained to see God alike in the scenes of nature and the words of revelation. The stars of heaven, the trees and flowers of the field, the lofty mountains, the rippling brooks—all spoke of the Creator. The solemn service of sacrifice and worship at the sanctuary and the utterances of the prophets were a revelation of God.

Such was the training of Moses in the lowly cabin home in Goshen; of Samuel, by the faithful Hannah; of David, in the hill dwelling at Bethlehem; of Daniel, before the scenes of the captivity separated him from the home of his fathers. Such, too, was the early life of Christ at Nazareth; such the training by which the child Timothy learned from the lips of his grandmother Lois, and his mother Eunice (2 Timothy 1:5; 3:15), the truths of Holy Writ.

Further provision was made for the instruction of the young, by the establishment of the schools of the prophets. If a youth desired to search deeper into the truths of the word of God and to seek wisdom from above, that he might become a teacher in Israel, these schools were open to him. The schools of the prophets were founded by Samuel to serve as a barrier against the widespread corruption, to provide for the moral and spiritual welfare of the youth, and to promote the future prosperity of the nation by furnishing it with men qualified to act in the fear of God as leaders and counselors. In the accomplishment of this object Samuel gathered companies of young men who were pious, intelligent, and studious. These were called the sons of the prophets. As they communed with God and studied His word and His works, wisdom from above was added to their natural endowments. The instructors were men not only well versed in divine truth, but those who had themselves enjoyed communion with God and had received the special endowment of His Spirit. They enjoyed the respect and confidence of the people, both for learning and piety.

In Samuel's day there were two of these schools—one at Ramah, the home of the prophet, and the other at Kirjath-jearim, where the ark then was. Others were established in later times.

The pupils of these schools sustained themselves by their own labor in tilling the soil or in some mechanical employment. In Israel this was not thought strange or degrading; indeed, it was regarded a crime to allow children to grow up in ignorance of useful labor. By the command of God every child was taught some trade, even though he was to be educated for holy office. Many of the religious teachers supported themselves by manual labor. Even so late as the time of the apostles, Paul and Aquila were no less honored because they earned a livelihood by their trade of tentmaking.

The chief subjects of study in these schools were the law of God, with the instructions given to Moses, sacred history, sacred music, and poetry. The manner of instruction was far different from that in the theological schools of the present day, from which many students graduate with less real knowledge of God and religious truth than when they entered. In those schools of the olden time it was the grand object of all study to learn the will of God and man's duty toward Him. In the records of sacred history were traced the footsteps of Jehovah. The great truths set forth by the types were brought to view, and faith grasped the central object of all that system—the Lamb of God that was to take away the sin of the world.

A spirit of devotion was cherished. Not only were students taught the duty of prayer, but they were taught how to pray, how to approach their Creator, how to exercise faith in Him, and how to understand and obey the teachings of His Spirit. Sanctified intellects brought forth from the treasure house of God things new and old, and the Spirit of God was manifested in prophecy and sacred song.

Music was made to serve a holy purpose, to lift the thoughts to that which is pure, noble, and elevating, and to awaken in the soul devotion and gratitude to God. What a contrast between the ancient custom and the uses to which music is now too often devoted! How many employ this gift to exalt self, instead of using it to Glorify God! A love for music leads the unwary to unite with world lovers in pleasure gatherings where God has forbidden His children to go. Thus that which is a great blessing when rightly used, becomes one of the most successful agencies by which Satan allures the mind from duty and from the contemplation of eternal things.

Music forms a part of God's worship in the courts above, and we should endeavor, in our songs of praise, to approach as nearly as possible to the harmony of the heavenly choirs. The proper training of the voice is an important feature in education and should not be neglected. Singing, as a part of religious service, is as much an act of worship as is prayer. The heart must feel the spirit of the song to give it right expression.

How wide the difference between those schools taught by the prophets of God and our modern institutions of learning! How few schools are to be found that are not governed by the maxims and customs of the world! There is a deplorable lack of proper restraint and judicious discipline. The existing ignorance of God's word among a people professedly Christian is alarming. Superficial talk, mere sentimentalism, passes for instruction in morals and religion. The justice and mercy of God, the beauty of holiness and the sure reward of rightdoing, the heinous character of sin and the certainty of its terrible results, are not impressed upon the minds of the young. Evil associates are instructing the youth in the ways of crime, dissipation, and licentiousness.

Are there not some lessons which the educators of our day might learn with profit from the ancient schools of the Hebrews? He who created man has provided for his development in body and mind and soul. Hence, real success in education depends upon the fidelity with which men carry out the Creator's plan.

The true object of education is to restore the image of God in the soul. In the beginning God created man in His own likeness. He endowed him with noble qualities. His mind was well balanced, and all the powers of his being were harmonious. But the Fall and its effects have perverted these gifts. Sin has marred and well-nigh obliterated the image of God in man. It was to restore this that the plan of salvation was devised, and a life of probation was granted to man. To bring him back to the perfection in which he was first created is the great object of life—the object that underlies every other. It is the work of parents and teachers, in the education of the youth, to co-operate with the divine purpose; and in so doing they are “laborers together with God.” 1 Corinthians 3:9.

All the varied capabilities that men possess—of mind and soul and body—are given them by God, to be so employed as to reach the highest possible degree of excellence. But this cannot be a selfish and exclusive culture; for the character of God, whose likeness we are to receive, is benevolence and love. Every faculty, every attribute, with which the Creator has endowed us is to be employed for His glory and for the uplifting of our fellow men. And in this employment is found its purest, noblest, and happiest exercise.

Were this principle given the attention which its importance demands, there would be a radical change in some of the current methods of education. Instead of appealing to pride and selfish ambition, kindling a spirit of emulation, teachers would endeavor to awaken the love for goodness and truth and beauty—to arouse the desire for excellence. The student would seek the development of God's gifts in himself, not to excel others, but to fulfill the purpose of the Creator and to receive His likeness. Instead of being directed to mere earthly standards, or being actuated by the desire for self-exaltation, which in itself dwarfs and belittles, the mind would be directed to the Creator, to know Him and to become like Him.

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the Holy is understanding.” Proverbs 9:10. The great work of life is character building, and a knowledge of God is the foundation of all true education. To impart this knowledge and to mold the character in harmony with it should be the object of the teacher's work. The law of God is a reflection of His character. Hence the psalmist says, “All Thy commandments are righteousness;” and “through Thy precepts I get understanding.” Psalm 119:172, 104. God has revealed Himself to us in His word and in the works of creation. Through the volume of inspiration and the book of nature we are to obtain a knowledge of God.

It is a law of the mind that it gradually adapts itself to the subjects upon which it is trained to dwell. If occupied with commonplace matters only, it will become dwarfed and enfeebled. If never required to grapple with difficult problems, it will after a time almost lose the power of growth. As an educating power the Bible is without a rival. In the word of God the mind finds subject for the deepest thought, the loftiest aspiration. The Bible is the most instructive history that men possess. It came fresh from the fountain of eternal truth, and a divine hand has preserved its purity through all the ages. It lights up the far-distant past, where human research seeks vainly to penetrate. In God's word we behold the power that laid the foundation of the earth and that stretched out the heavens. Here only can we find a history of our race unsullied by human prejudice or human pride. Here are recorded the struggles, the defeats, and the victories of the greatest men this world has ever known. Here the great problems of duty and destiny are unfolded. The curtain that separates the visible from the invisible world is lifted, and we behold the conflict of the opposing forces of good and evil, from the first entrance of sin to the final triumph of righteousness and truth; and all is but a revelation of the character of God. In the reverent contemplation of the truths presented in His word the mind of the student is brought into communion with the infinite mind. Such a study will not only refine and ennoble the character, but it cannot fail to expand and invigorate the mental powers.

The teaching of the Bible has a vital bearing upon man's prosperity in all the relations of this life. It unfolds the principles that are the cornerstone of a nation's prosperity—principles with which is bound up the well-being of society, and which are the safeguard of the family—principles without which no man can attain usefulness, happiness, and honor in this life, or can hope to secure the future, immortal life. There is no position in life, no phase of human experience, for which the teaching of the Bible is not an essential preparation. Studied and obeyed, the word of God would give to the world men of stronger and more active intellect than will the closest application to all the subjects that human philosophy embraces. It would give men of strength and solidity of character, of keen perception and sound judgment—men who would be an honor to God and a blessing to the world.

In the study of the sciences also we are to obtain a knowledge of the Creator. All true science is but an interpretation of the handwriting of God in the material world. Science brings from her research only fresh evidences of the wisdom and power of God. Rightly understood, both the book of nature and the written word make us acquainted with God by teaching us something of the wise and beneficent laws through which He works.

The student should be led to see God in all the works of creation. Teachers should copy the example of the Great Teacher, who from the familiar scenes of nature drew illustrations that simplified His teachings and impressed them more deeply upon the minds of His hearers. The birds caroling in the leafy branches, the flowers of the valley, the lofty trees, the fruitful lands, the springing grain, the barren soil, the setting sun gilding the heavens with its golden beams—all served as means of instruction. He connected the visible works of the Creator with the words of life which He spoke, that whenever these objects should be presented to the eyes of His hearers, their thoughts might revert to the lessons of truth He had linked with them.

The impress of Deity, manifest in the pages of revelation, is seen upon the lofty mountains, the fruitful valleys, the broad, deep ocean. The things of nature speak to man of his Creator's love. He has linked us to Himself by unnumbered tokens in heaven and in earth. This world is not all sorrow and misery. “God is love,” is written upon every opening bud, upon the petals of every flower, and upon every spire of grass. Though the curse of sin has caused the earth to bring forth thorns and thistles, there are flowers upon the thistles and the thorns are hidden by roses. All things in nature testify to the tender, fatherly care of our God and to His desire to make His children happy. His prohibitions and injunctions are not intended merely to display His authority, but in all that He does He has the well-being of His children in view. He does not require them to give up anything that it would be for their best interest to retain.

The opinion which prevails in some classes of society, that religion is not conducive to health or to happiness in this life, is one of the most mischievous of errors. The Scripture says: “The fear of the Lord tendeth to life: and he that hath it shall abide satisfied.” Proverbs 19:23. “What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see good? Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile. Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.” Psalm 34:12-14. The words of wisdom “are life unto those that find them, and health to all their flesh.” Proverbs 4:22.

True religion brings man into harmony with the laws of God, physical, mental, and moral. It teaches self-control, serenity, temperance. Religion ennobles the mind, refines the taste, and sanctifies the judgment. It makes the soul a partaker of the purity of heaven. Faith in God's love and overruling providence lightens the burdens of anxiety and care. It fills the heart with joy and contentment in the highest or the lowliest lot. Religion tends directly to promote health, to lengthen life, and to heighten our enjoyment of all its blessings. It opens to the soul a never-failing fountain of happiness. Would that all who have not chosen Christ might realize that He has something vastly better to offer them that they are seeking for themselves. Man is doing the greatest injury and injustice to his own soul when he thinks and acts contrary to the will of God. No real joy can be found in the path forbidden by Him who knows what is best, and who plans for the good of His creatures. The path of transgression leads to misery and destruction; but wisdom's “ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.” Proverbs 3:17.

The physical as well as the religious training practiced in the schools of the Hebrews may be profitably studied. The worth of such training is not appreciated. There is an intimate relation between the mind and the body, and in order to reach a high standard of moral and intellectual attainment the laws that control our physical being must be heeded. To secure a strong, well-balanced character, both the mental and the physical powers must be exercised and developed. What study can be more important for the young than that which treats of this wonderful organism that God has committed to us, and of the laws by which it may be preserved in health?

And now, as in the days of Israel, every youth should be instructed in the duties of practical life. Each should acquire a knowledge of some branch of manual labor by which, if need be, he may obtain a livelihood. This is essential, not only as a safeguard against the vicissitudes of life, but from its bearing upon physical, mental, and moral development. Even if it were certain that one would never need to resort to manual labor for his support, still he should be taught to work. Without physical exercise, no one can have a sound constitution and vigorous health; and the discipline of well-regulated labor is no less essential to the securing of a strong and active mind and a noble character.

Every student should devote a portion of each day to active labor. Thus habits of industry would be formed and a spirit of self-reliance encouraged, while the youth would be shielded from many evil and degrading practices that are so often the result of idleness. And this is all in keeping with the primary object of education, for in encouraging activity, diligence, and purity we are coming into harmony with the Creator.

Let the youth be led to understand the object of their creation, to honor God and bless their fellow men; let them see the tender love which the Father in heaven has manifested toward them, and the high destiny for which the discipline of this life is to prepare them, the dignity and honor to which they are called, even to become the sons of God, and thousands would turn with contempt and loathing from the low and selfish aims and the frivolous pleasures that have hitherto engrossed them. They would learn to hate sin and to shun it, not merely from hope of reward or fear of punishment, but from a sense of its inherent baseness, because it would be a degrading of their God-given powers, a stain upon their Godlike manhood.

God does not bid the youth to be less aspiring. The elements of character that make a man successful and honored among men—the irrepressible desire for some greater good, the indomitable will, the strenuous exertion, the untiring perseverance—are not to be crushed out. By the grace of God they are to be directed to objects as much higher than mere selfish and temporal interests as the heavens are higher than the earth. And the education begun in this life will be continued in the life to come. Day by day the wonderful works of God, the evidences of His wisdom and power in creating and sustaining the universe, the infinite mystery of love and wisdom in the plan of redemption, will open to the mind in new beauty. “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9. Even in this life we may catch glimpses of His presence and may taste the joy of communion with Heaven, but the fullness of its joy and blessing will be reached in the hereafter. Eternity alone can reveal the glorious destiny to which man, restored to God's image, may attain.

[whispcr]

💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty [ brent ]

💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty

Beau was buried three hours ago. 

The lively, loving little boy was now stilled in permanent rest.  Never again would stumbling, unsteady feet clatter against the hardwood floor of his flat. Never again would he hear his young voice, still learning how to properly enunciate the alphabet, recite verses from Dr. Seuss or nursery rhymes. Never again would the three-year-old get to play pretend, imagine a world full of endless possibilities, no blanket fort able to keep him hidden from the realities of the cruel, harsh world. 

Never again would anything make sense in the world that grew ever smaller. 

Brent had accepted the real possibility that he would never see his son again. When he struck the deal with his father, he realized with clarity what it was that he was sacrificing, what the cost was in becoming a Death Eater. He could go to prison -- and even if he didn’t, never again would he be able to consider himself worthy of being near his family. He had known then that he was giving them up, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

It was worth the cost, then, if he was the one punished. He should have realized that his father was never going to honor the deal. His father knew, ultimately, that coercing Brent could only last so long, could only take him so far. 

Brent should have seen this coming. If Richard Nott could not have his son, Brent could not have his either. 

The funeral was a blur in Brent’s vision, a fog that stretched like an old time film replaying in his mind, shades of black and white where there was no sound. Where he was merely an observer rather than a participant. Brent had lingered toward the back, head bowed the whole service, unable to sit himself anywhere near Barbara. He had considered not going, because he shouldn’t have been there, had no right to be when he was the one responsible. Oh, he knew that this was Richard Nott’s doing. That it was his own father who rose his wand against a defenseless toddler. 

But Brent was the one who led him there. His entire life, Brent had weighed and measured what risks were worth taking, just how far he could go in retaliating against his controlling father. It was a game he had once applauded himself for mastering, intricately learning the rules so that he could best figure out how to break them so he could win the final match. Admittedly, having a child had not been part of the initial equation. He was meant to wait until he was graduated before completely cutting the strings. But when the variable was added, the precious, most important piece of the puzzle, Brent could not afford to wait any longer. If he wanted to properly build their budding family with Barbara, he had needed to tear down the walls that kept him trapped, lest he risk Barbara and their child becoming entangled and becoming pawns in the game. 

He hadn’t known, then, that a war would come, that Voldemort would resurface and provide his father with more power than Brent could manage to fight against on his own. Brent was no seer, but all he could see were the missteps. What did it matter that he had walked with his head held high when the path he walked was filled with wrong turns that he didn’t realize had been taken until it was too late, until he found not just himself, but also his family stuck in the labyrinth's maze once more. Beau had not emerged from its haunting depths and Barbara -- she may not have lost her life, but she lost something that Brent knew she had considered even more valuable. 

Brent hadn’t deserved to tell his son goodbye, but while there were many decisions Brent could scarcely live with that he’d made, he had enough foresight to know he would have regretted not being there. With enough regrets to last him a lifetime of penance that still would not be enough to right his wrongs, his son’s funeral would mark not just the end of a chapter. It was to be the closing scene of his book. A tragic tale rather than one that was about overcoming obstacles and adversity, Brent Richard Nott may be breathing but he was no longer alive. 

It was for the best that he be erased from existence. Yet it was also not fitting that he join Beau in the afterlife. Limbo was the only place where he could find a place, teetering between dead and alive, sitting on the fringe of the fabric of the universe. The only game he could play now was one where he waited for damnation to claim him properly, swallowing the tattered shreds of his soul that remained. 

As he stepped further into his flat, it was difficult to recognize the space. He hadn’t occupied the place in weeks, needing to sever himself from his old life completely if he was going to persist forward. 

Each item was still in its place. Of course it was, as Brent was nothing if not orderly. But there had been more life to it once, when curious hands would reach for items on the shelf or a small body would curl around a pile of blankets, puzzle pieces scattered along the floor. 

Brent couldn’t afford to linger, mechanically making his way into his room. Unable to predict when someone might stop by to check in on him, possibly press on his behavior during the funeral where he hadn’t even uttered a word, unapproachable as ever, Brent made quick work of gathering a small duffel bag and setting it atop his mattress. 

He wouldn’t need much in the way of belongings where he was going. Exile meant shedding his skin, his comforts, leaving only the bare, brittle bone of the skeleton that remained. Perhaps he was acting impetuously, Brent considered as he folded clothes, just enough sets for a job that he had yet to obtain at a location that he had yet to decide. 

But what could the consequences be? 

He knew what would happen if he stayed. No one would blame him, not like they ought to. They would waste their breath attempting to convince him that he had done all he could. Worse, they would emphatically say how sorry they were, how they felt for his loss as if they could ever truly begin to understand the magnitude. Sentiment had its place, perhaps, but Brent could stomach none of it. He did not want their pity, much less their sympathy. He wanted anger furious enough to match the storm raging within him. 

The darkness was enough to strangle his veins, cut off circulation and leave him struggling for air. Brent may no longer be controlled by Richard. His grief, his guilt, his regret were his masters now, leaving him at their mercy as he was tugged into the pit of despair. Yet he deserved no relief for it was only when he felt the weight of it all that he was grounded enough to keep his feet moving. 

If he left, he knew the absence would be felt. Initially, at first. Not near as keenly as the loss of Beau, and it was selfish of him to add to the weight of loss onto the shoulders of those who mattered. He recognized this too was a transgression, another to add to a list that could scroll meters long. 

But this was the only way. Each person in his life was too good to realize that he had become a poisonous leech. If he lingered, he would add no value. He had cost each of them enough. 

They would be alright, he reasoned. Never the same, no, never quite as whole as before, but they would find a way to carry on. There was no way of moving on from this. This was a loss they would always carry with them, an emptiness that could not be filled, but they would surely find a way to wrestle what joy they could find in the remaining path that lay before them now that peace was won. The victory march came with a broken hallelujah, yet they were all strong. They may not be now, but they had enough support to carry them the rest of the way until they could once more stand on their own.

Ruben would be undoubtedly fine. He would understand and not question Brent’s disappearance too much. He had his own family to look after and if anything, he could see Ruben being awed by Brent’s streak of ‘wild.’ It had been something that Ruben had been trying to encourage the entire span of their friendship yet had never managed to cajole out of him. That was Ruben’s trait, not him, and Brent’s only concern was that Ruben would land himself in trouble. What if he couldn’t get out of it? Who would be there to ensure that Ruben didn’t lose everything like Brent had? 

Valentina would keep her flame going as it was eternal. She had enough fumes inside her to keep her fighting; she had plenty stories left to tell, her own truths yet to find and expose. That did not mean, however, that her flame wouldn’t flicker and subside. Brent was her brother. Her chosen brother. Valentina could have emancipated herself entirely from the Nott family entirely long ago, yet had chosen to keep him in an active role in her life. Brent did not ignore that fact nor its worth. Upon their first meeting, Brent could never have envisioned that they would choose to spend time together, to be involved in one another’s lives beyond those stone walls. And he was grateful. But he could not stay for her. She had Liam Matheson. If her flames appeared to be withering, he knew that Liam would do whatever it took to raise them again, to rekindle her spirit. She would never remain down for long with Liam around. The two of them had supported each other this far, blood traitors of their families, and he knew that they would continue to boost each other up in the aftermath. 

She didn’t need a younger brother who had initially turned up his nose to her, dismissed her presence entirely. Through perseverance, Valentina had wiggled her way into his positive regard. All that their relationship had evolved into had been the result of her efforts. He would not allow her to continue to waste away her strength by trying to chip away at his concrete block. 

Barbara would recover. He couldn’t envision her not. She would never properly heal, the wound inflicted leaving a scar that would ache throughout her life, but she was too resilient not to make it through. He had no doubt that her foundation had been shattered as his own had, and while his was lined with reason, hers was marked with hope. Positivism was her worldview of choice and even now as her vision surely was skewed, she could find it again with the proper guidance. She was not without friends and where they may run up short, her parents too could provide for her. It was from them, after all, that she had inherited her warmth. 

And what had their own relationship given her? Her other friends were far more similar to her, able to offer her kindness and laughter without issue. Brent, from the beginning, fumbled. She’d had to teach him, gently coax him over time into being comfortable over time with softness, with a tenderness that after awhile had come with ease. He didn’t know how to console her, not when he was like this, hope lost to him, edges sharpened and bloodied. He couldn’t offer her anything when it was because of him that she had been robbed, when he had nothing left remaining to him that was of any worth. 

There was still an out, however, a thread that would remain. It was not a complete break, though none of them would be aware of it unless a dire situation required for the thread to be pulled on. Bronwyn Travers could be instilled with enough trust that he would leave it up to her to be able to beckon him back. She was detached enough not to force him to stay against his will but attached enough, caring enough, to know how to make the proper call.��

He went over to his desk, opening up the drawer. Inside was his syllabus from when he had taught, underneath it a pile of papers that were his drawn up plans for education revision, notes of a young man who was full of hope and ideals. He reached further inside for his journal, the one personal item he would take with him. 

His eyes flicked to the corner of his desk. Perched away from the pile of papers and fresh parchment was a picture frame made of Popsicle sticks, glued together sloppily and decorated with buttons, wobbly crayon writing spelling out ‘For Dad’ across the side with a heart colored in red next to it. Inside the frame was a moving picture, Barbara holding up Beau as they twirled once before waving at the camera, wearing matching knit hats and teeth gleaming with their smiles and cheeks flushed from exhilaration, with life. 

He tore his gaze away, eyes stinging.

Beau only moved in pictures now, in moments that he could no longer grasp. He never could recapture a moment once it had passed, reclaim a feeling once it had thrummed through him. The happiness of yesterday was lost to him in the pain of the present that seemed to stretch for miles, all that he could see in his future. 

He set the frame facedown, hand lingering as if he could reach into the image and still touch them. 

Zipping up his duffel bag, he tossed the lightweight luggage over his shoulder. On his nightstand, the latest Edward Said work bookmarked at the halfway point, a nightly reading put on hold without qualms when Beau squirmed his way into bed. He had been aware enough of the world to begin to understand the turbulence stretching through the atmosphere and Brent could recall assuring his son that it would all be fine, that Dad and Mum would see to it that he was okay. A stuffed Piglet figure was still wedged in between the two pillows.

A shaky breath trembled through him, Brent turning on his heel.    

He didn’t acknowledge the room beside his own as he came into the living room. One task yet remained. Pulling all of his funds out of his bank account, Brent would be travelling through unorthodox means to his destination. He would walk, first, and ensure that he did not leave enough of a trail that Valentina could find him with her investigative skills. He couldn’t trust himself to Apparate, though flooing wasn’t out of the question. 

Brent had hailed himself in Magical Theory. The concepts of magic, its capabilities, all the possibilities that dwelt within it were the most fascinating to him. But magic was inherently meant, he knew, to enhance the world. That was his belief. 

He had betrayed his magic in the worst of ways, the very essence of who he was. Dark Magic corrupted. He had seen Voldemort up close, knew the physical ways that practicing the particular brand of magic could mutate one’s form. 

All magic left traces. But dark magic polluted. 

Brent reached into his pocket, drawing out his wand. Found not at Ollivander’s, but during his summer trip to Seoul. The aspen wood gave off a sleek appearance, its Acromantula Web as peculiar as the boy who had inherited it. Rigid, unsurprisingly so for a boy who took time to warm up to anyone but who’s loyalty was unquestionable once earned.

Snapping the wand in half, Brent held the broken pieces in each hand, his shoulders shaking before they squared. He was a shell. Not a person, not a father, not a friend, not a brother, not a mentor, not a teacher, not a theorist, not a philosopher, not a thinker, not a revolutionary, and no longer a forced soldier. He tossed the bits of wood to the ground, a weapon no longer. 

Closing the door with a clack, he locked the residence behind him. He may no longer have a reason to hold onto the contents inside, but someone might, and there were three extra sets of keys that could still find their way inside. 

But he knew that, if anyone should stop by, they wouldn’t find what they were really looking for. 

For that person no longer existed, disappearing into the thickest part of fog and fading with the daylights hours as darkness enveloped around him. 

[thehoneycombdailydevotional]

╔══ 🐝THE HONEYCOMB🐝 ══╗ Today’s Melody🎵 August 5, 2018 Arms Wide Open Symphony of Love Series 🎷🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎷 What is love? This is a question that has been asked countless times by countless people. The pursuit of answers has led many astray with only a few ever finding the truth. In her song "Arms Wide Open", Misty Edwards shares how she came to find the truth; the answer to the question, "What does love look like?" Her answer is quite simple: Jesus Christ is the embodiment of love. Love looks like Jesus. Love isn't some feeling or a barrage of emotions. It isn't the butterflies in your belly or the electric spark that runs up and down your spine. Love is a person; the very nature of God. The clearest picture of love was seen on Calvary as great drops of blood flowed down the cross from the wounds of Christ while he watched the world through His swollen and bloodshot eyes. Even when He was being spit on, He pled mercy for the world. Even in death, He still couldn't help but love even when His love was unrequited. Christ died for you. He now dwells in you. You're also very much capable of His love. Just be a willing vessel and let it flow through you. The world may not see Christ, but let it see Christ through you. What does love look like? It looks like Jesus, It can also look like you. Thought Provoking Verse: If all of life comes down to love Then love has to be more than sentiment More than selfishness and selfish gain And then I saw Him there, hanging on a tree, looking at me I saw Him there, hanging on a tree, looking at me He was looking at me, looking at Him, staring through me I could not escape those beautiful eyes And I began to weep and weep He had arms wide open, a heart exposed Arms wide open; He was bleeding, bleeding Love's definition, love's definition was looking at me •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°• THE HONEYCOMB© Bless a life by sharing https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.honeycombdaily.app