#꧁Our teachings⛪️꧂

[till-we-become-monsters]

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[mannequinreligi0n]

Sins

priest!Vergil listens to your confession

pairing: priest!Vergil x nun!reader (mostly gn pronouns)

wc: 1380

warnings: mentions of religion

author’s note: priest vergil save me…..save me priest vergil…..might write a second part that’s actually spicy to this if there’s a demand for it. also i’m too lazy to proofread so you get what you get !

⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️

The seven o’clock mass had ended well over an hour ago, yet stray sinners still lined up to have their confessions heard. As the line dwindled, you wandered methodically around the church to dim the various lights and lanterns perched on pillars, leaving only the votive candles left to illuminate the grand hall. Every Sunday evening, your branch held an evening mass that was near identical to the morning service for those who couldn’t attend earlier in the day. Your fellow brothers and sisters of the church often rotated duties and you were fortunate enough to be left with attending the evening service, with hopes you could catch Father Vergil once confession had concluded.

There were two other nuns pacing about, helping escort leaving patrons out and collecting prayer books from pews, but they paid little mind to you. It was another twenty minutes before the final church-goer exited the confessional, signing himself with the cross as a nun came over to take his hand in prayer as they walked to the front door. The other nun followed loosely behind, closing stray doors, leaving only you in the echo chamber of the lord. You continue your duties of straightening the prayer candles when a loud creak of wood perks your ears. A series of expensive footsteps followed, a decibel louder with each step.

“Sister, you’re still here? The sun will set within the hour.”

You turn to acknowledge the voice: it’s Father Vergil, but you already knew that. You had practically studied the rhythm in his walk, the cadence of his voice, the soft aroma of myrrh and lavender that clouded him.

“Apologies, Father. I wished to do my work to the best degree, no matter the position of the sun. It is what our lord in heaven would wish.”

You bowed your head in atonement, not wanting to disrespect him in the slightest. It is only when you heard a hum of amusement from the priest that your head raised, greeted with stormy eyes and a smile of grace.

“God would forgive you for turning in early, sister,” Father Vergil mused, chuckling lightly. “Come, let me walk you out.”

You look down to see Father Vergil’s arm extended to you, an offering from above. If god knew of your sins, why was he indulging you with such a delight? Perhaps this was a test of faith. With hesitation, you take his arm, immediately reveling in the warmth of it. Shaking your head, you try to rid yourself of sinful thoughts, only to garner more attention from the priest. He stops you both from walking any further, you two standing in between the pews. Father Vergil turns to directly face you, clasping his hands over yours with concern and sincerity.

“You seem troubled, my child. Is there something you wish to share?”

Your eyeballs almost bulge out of your head from the accusation and touch of his hands. God has spoken to him of your impurities! Our benevolent lord has enlightened your dear priest with the knowledge of your thoughts. You immediately collapse before him to your knees, still grasping at his hands for a semblance of rapture.

“Oh, Father! I am not worthy to stand in the home of God beside you! I have betrayed my teachings, my very essence by entertaining these plaguing voices from the devil, himself!” you blubbered out, tears of shame cascading down your face.

Your hands shake as you grip his hands, fearing that he’ll turn his merciful eyes from you. The shake of your body is so persistent that your veil falls from your head, exposing your hair to the dimming light shining through the stained windows. Father Vergil stares at you with utter confusion, unsure where this fit arose from. His eyes flicker between your white knuckles and desperate eyes, not sure what “thoughts” you could be alluding to.

“Dear child, what has troubled you so?” Father Vergil questions softly, slowly bending down to speak more directly. “You are safe, and with God as my witness, I will not pass judgment on your sins. Please, share your burden with me.”

With tear-soaked cheeks, you swallow hard and bring your attention back up to him. “I wish to confess, Father,” you say meekly, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. A terrible, crude sin.”

Father Vergil lowers himself to his knees to sit across from you, still holding your hands. He nods for you to continue.

“It has been weeks- no, months, that my mind has wandered a dark path. I pray to God every night to take these…these obscene a-and lewd thoughts from me, but I fear I have strayed too far from Him, as He remains silent to me,” you exclaim to him.

Intrigued, Vergil raises an eyebrow. “What thoughts exactly?” his voice careful.

“I….I am not sure if I have the heart to voice them, Father,” you say, a frown plastered on your face.

“I understand this is difficult, Sister, but to receive penance and be absolved, you must confess to God,” Father Vergil sighs, squeezing your hands, “Has no one condemned you?… Neither do I condemn you.”

“John 8:11,” you say promptly, recognizing the verse.

Father Vergil nods and smiles gently, nodding once more. “Confess, and you will be rid of such sin.”

You look down at your joined hands and breathe deep, saying a silent prayer to God before speaking.

“Father…..I have been riddled with…disgraceful thoughts of you. I hear you speak sweet nothings to me in the lonesome night; I feel your skin on mine in times of need. I fear that my devotion to God has transformed into the devotion of you.”

Vergil’s smile falls as you speak, a cold, unreadable expression glossing over. He untangles his hands from yours and grasps at the rosary draped over his chest.

“Sister,” he starts, eyeing you warily, “such thoughts have challenged even the strongest of God’s creatures. But to worship someone other than our lord…it is sacrilege.”

There’s a long pause as Father Vergil closes his eyes, deep in thought. You watch his nose scrunch in the dim candlelight, wrinkles forming on his marble-carved face.

“You must try to rid your pure mind of such fallacies, in order to receive penance. Let us pray,” Vergil orders, making the sign of the cross. You follow suit, ‘in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,’ and clasp your hands together to your chest, bowing your head to them. You listen intently as Father Vergil recites a prayer asking for your forgiveness, soaking in every word. Even now, you can’t help but feel a warmth in your body at the hushed, intimate tone of his voice. Pushing the desires down, you return your focus in time to end the prayer, echoing Vergil’s ‘amen’.

You open your eyes to see him standing, offering a hand to help you up. You take it and grab your fallen veil off the tile. Fixing it back in place, Vergil takes a few steps back from you and seems to be mumbling a small prayer to himself, twisting the cross on his rosary in his delicate fingers. You brush off the dust and wrinkles from your garb and clear your throat.

“Shall I continue my duties for the ni-“

“No,” Vergil promptly interrupts, “no, I think I can finish closing up myself. It would be best if you found your way home.”

There’s a pang in your chest, an arrow to your heart, at the stark dismissal. You wanted to say more to him, to apologize profusely, but you knew it would only make things worse. You bowed your head in obedience.

“Yes, Father.”

You crossed yourself one last time before turning on your heels to leave, the clicking of your shoes reverberating off the church walls. Father Vergil watched you as you scurried out, tail between your legs. Everything happened so quickly that he didn’t get a chance to voice that he, too, was struggling with his faith in your presence, and instead, projected his shame onto you. Vergil exhaled the breath he’d been holding and walked into the pew of the first row, kneeling down and clasping his sweating hands together.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

[yermes]

PAC: 🫂 

What do the people in your life teach you?

I am about to visit my best friend. She lives north of me and its about a 2h drive but shes so amazing and wonderful. Sometimes life puts people in your life to be a lesson sometimes they put them there to be your platonic soul mate.

Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

Socials: TipJar | Insta

Pick a meme

The cards

Pile 1

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Life giveth and life taketh away. Sometimes what people add to your life is stress and worry and they present an opportunity to make decisions for yourself.

Pile 2

Garden + Cross ⛪️ 🪴 

Sometimes a social friend or someone you talk to at parties gives some devastation to your life. This may be a person who you want to please but they have no interest in you as a person and it hurts.

Pile 3

Letter + Women 🧣 💌 

Keep your important girl friends around even if they can bug you slightly with a barrage of memes at the worst times. Their love is important and women friendships are the backbone of our society.

[iwaasfairy]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASS Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures����🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

get your copypasta out of my anti-christian askbox

[marie1-kersaint]

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BLESSED B👑✝️

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https://www.facebook.com/share/156wZ1axyW/?mibextid=WC7FNe Blessed [be] the LORD, because he hath heard the voice of my supplications.

https://kjbo.org/Psalms-28-6/

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THANK YOU 🙏 ✝️🙏✝️🙏✝️🙏✝️🎊🎉🎂🎄🍾🎉🎁🏆🕺💃🤸🏽‍♂️🤸🏼🤸🏼‍♀️🎼THE BEAUTIFUL 😻 😍🥰😘😜😻🐈‍⬛cat IS BACK 🤸🏼‍♀️🤸🏼🤸🏽‍♂️💃still crazy and beautiful 🤩

i was praying for a better home for her BUT I GUESS THIS WILL HAVE TO DO. she’s a but thinner BUT THAT’S GOOD she was to I big when she was thrown away. THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL YOUR HELP

THANKS GINA

🐈‍⬛ALIVE 🐈 ALIVE 🐱 ALIVE🙏✝️

Teach me thy way, O LORD; I will walk in thy truth: unite my heart to fear thy name.

https://kjbo.org/Psalms-86-11/

10For thou artgreat, and doest wondrous things: thou art God alone. https://mariekersaint.blogspot.com/2024/12/please-worship-living-god-with-us-247.html

υ θεου💘

THANK YOU 🙏 🙏🙏

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Teach me thy way, O LORD; I will walk in thy truth: unite my heart to fear thy name.

https://kjbo.org/Psalms-86-11/

10For thou artgreat, and doest wondrous things: thou art God alone. https://mariekersaint.blogspot.com/2024/12/please-worship-living-god-with-us-247.html

υ θεου💘

THANK YOU 🙏 🙏🙏

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🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏we NEED HEALTHCARE 4 PETS So, we all agree to cut off LINDA

conway DEMOSTHENES

Like she never existed

WE CANNOT AFFORD

TO GIVE BRIANA A LEG 🦵 🆙 🔝 ⬆️

(The only chance we will ever have)

ℹ guess👹 "right time" is...

After the BAKER ACT👮 👮‍♀️ left "no SUZIE i will not go to riverview I HAVE BEEN HERE 7 YEARS "

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O MY GOD, YOU GAVE US SUCH BRAIN, 🧠 IMAGINATION, 💭 INTELLIGENCE, BREATH, HEARTBEAT 💓 💗🙏✝️🙏 file:///var/mobile/tmp/com.apple.messages/com.apple.MobileSMS/LinkedFiles/47C56600-C582-41E6-8D5A-73F3724BE3B9/IMG_4716.png

[iamamonsterofverity]

⛪️ Kate 🔥

(A/N: A little project I did rewriting this savage song in first person. Just for funsies, ya know.)

I'm restless, I toss in turn, the duffle bag crammed under my shirt jabs my ribs, it's almost time. 

Finally, my watch vibrates 11:15, way past curfew but early enough to give me time to do what I need to. 

I slip carefully out from under my covers. The bunks in St. Agnes are 4 to a room and I have a top bunk, I wince as the ladder creaks and groans. Susan Brooke twitches, am I made? She tosses her face back into her pillow, safe . . . for now. I check the pocket of my jean jacket for the key I took from Sister Merilee's cupboard during a lecture on finding grace. It's still there, of course it is.

I cracked the window just enough before I went to bed so it won't make that awful dying cat noise. Now I slip out silently onto the grass. Apparently they used to call this the witching hour. According to Sister Rene it is "that dark time when restless spirits reach for freedom". Spirits and teenage girls trapped in boarding schools too far from home. I didn't bother changing into pyjamas tonight since I knew I wouldn't need them. 

What I do need, however, is alcohol. Good thing I know where to get it. The sisters quarter's are just across one of the manicured lawns from the dorms. The doors are locked, but I have the master key. Really someone ought to consult Mother Alice—our headmistress/nun whatever—on her attention to security. The first room is the main office where they keep confiscated goods, anything from video gaming tablets, clothing deemed 'inappropriate' or, in my case, a single pure silver lighter.

It only takes me a second of searching before I find the small cardboard box next to Mother Alice's desk. My lighter is right on top along with my cigarettes. It feels better already having it on me again after so long, I light a cigarette and get to work. The box is more helpful than I could've hoped for. I find two bottles of jack and almost a full fifth of vodka.

I pull out my duffle bag and place them gently in. Those are a good find but now for what I really want. Mother Alice's drawer is locked but the key is easy to find, a lump under her otherwise neatly stacked personalised stationery. I frown in disgust at the gaudy gold trim. It's just so ugly that I knock it from the desk, scattering it along with her other papers around the floor. 

I put the key into the cabinet. When I turn it, the drawer opens silently, implying it is used often . . . interesting. Inside are three bottles of house red, and a whiskey that looks decades old. I leave the office not bothering to cover my tracks. By the time they realise, it'll be too late. 

You're probably wondering why I'm doing this, and it isn't because I'm angry or drunk or mentally unstable. It's because I'm desperate. This is really a last resort. I've already broken a girl's nose, smoked in the dormitories, vandalised one of a kind vintage library books, cheated on my first exam, refused to do my second one at all, ditched every class for a week, and called three of the sisters things I won't repeat here. But no matter what I do, St. Agnes Academy keeps forgiving me. That's the problem with Catholic schools. They see me as someone to be saved. But I don't need salvation; I just need to get out of here. Where is here? We'll get to that later.

For now it's on down the hall to Sister Merilee's office, where she keeps her private store, all the good stuff. This door is open too. Damn, this is just too easy, I muffle a laugh and light a new cigarette. The old one isn't spent yet but I replace it anyway making sure to tap it out on Sister Merilee's religious teaching certificate. My master key belongs to Sister Merilee in the first place so it opens the closet easily. Up to now the bottles have all fit in the bag, but the vintage wine just won't squeeze in. It's okay, I won't be holding it long.

I make my way down the quaint little stone path that goes from the dormitories to the Chapel of the Cross, the mush of the damp grass under my feet, the clinking of the glass bottles and the sloshing of the alcohol mixing in with the sound of the midnight bells chiming soft and low, to make some kind of savage song in the night.

The bells are coming from the larger Chapel of the Saints on the other side of campus. That one is never fully unattended. Mother Alice sleeps in a room off the chapel, I would've liked to burn that building instead but I can't afford to add murder to arson. If this were twelve years ago, maybe I would've risked it, but not now. Then again; if this is like how it was twelve years ago I wouldn't be here.

Would I? I have to admit that even in the few flashes I can remember of my childhood the Harkers were never much of a family. Maybe my father would've shipped me off to baording school anyway. My mother would've protested, the way she did when she stole me away that night, and now she speaks no longer. (I think, I don't really know either of them.)

I quash the nostalgia and wondering before it can swell to much, but I allow myself, for only a moment, to wonder if my mother, the woman my father loved (did he?), had lived, would my father have been softer, kinder, a father. Or was my mother's death just an exuse for him to show his true colors? I'll never know and I remind myself that this is only one branch before I can let the image of a childhood in a small blue house in the tall grass under the bright stars take over.

I let myself into the Chapel and set the duffel down just inside the door. It takes me a second to adjust to the darkness in the chapel. I've never seen it this late and the stained glass is really something, but I can't back out now. It isn't the school's only chapel—it isn't even the nicest—and if the nuns at St. Agnes preach about anything, it's the importance of sacrifice. 

A dozen pews are all that stand between me and the altar. I crouch down on the wooden floor, unzip the duffle, and get to work. The night is eerily quiet now that the bells have stopped and my bad ear rings. Absently, I start humming a random hymn I don't even remember the name of, just to fill the void. Carefully I arrange the bottles on the closest pew before crossing to the prayer candles. Beside the three tiers of shallow glass bowls sits a dish of matches, the old-fashioned kind with long wooden stems. Maybe I should take them. Maybe I will.  There's relly no point, they'd probably just take them back when I'm caught.

Still humming, I return to the old carved liquor cabinet on the pew (it's a true antique, too bad it has to burn!) and unscrew and uncork the various bottles, spilling the liquid over each seat, doling it out so the contents last. I make sure to save Mother Alice's whiskey for something special. When I'm done I head up to the wooden podium at the front. A Bible sits open on top, and something about it makes me stop. I guess the teachings of St. Agnes have finally gotten to me because I decided to spare the old book, lobbing it out the open front door and onto the morning grass. It's large print and heavier than I expected or maybe that is just my imagination. When I step back inside, the damp, sweet smell of alcohol fills the air. I cough and spit the disgusting stuff onto the chapel's smooth wooden flooring.

At the far end of the chapel, a massive crucifix hangs above the altar, and I can feel Jesus's sad gaze on me, as if he's disappointed in me, and somewhere out there in the multiverse of Kates, I'm disappointed in me too. 

"Forgive me father for I have sinned", I think as I strike the match against the ornate door frame. 

"Nothing personal," I add aloud as the match flares to life, sudden and bright. For a long moment I watch it burn tendrils of fire snaking down the wood toward my fingers. And then, just before it reaches them, I drop it onto the seat of the nearest pew. It catches instantly and spreads with an audible whoosh. The fire consumes only the alcohol at first, then it takes hold of the wood beneath. In moments, the pews are going up, and then the floor, and at last the altar, soaked with Mother Alice's whiskey. 

The fire grows, and grows, and grows, from a flame the size of my metallic nail to a blaze with a life of its own, I can't help but stand and watch as it dances and climbs and consumes everything in plumes of red and orange heat, taking inch after inch until the heat and the smoke finally become too much. Coughing I throw the spent cigarette into the flames and exit out onto the dew-damp lawn. My feet beg me to run but I resist. Instead I sink onto a bench a safe distance from the growing fire, swinging my feet through the tall summer grass.

If I squint, I can see the light of the nearest sub city, a place called Des Moines on the horizon. To me, it's nonsense, but apparently it's an old fashioned name, a relic from the time before the reconstruction. There are half a dozen of them, scattered around Verity's periphery—but none have more than a million people, their populations locked in, locked down, and none of them hold a candle to the capital. That's the idea. No one wants to attract the monsters. Or Callum Harker. 

Instinctually I reach for my lighter already expecting disappointment but unlike these past two months it's actually there. I pull it out and begin turning it over and over in my hands, tracing the engravings, to try and keep them steady. When that fails, I draw a cigarette from my shirt pocket and light it, watching the small blue flame dance before the massive orange blaze. I take a drag and close my eyes. 

Where are you, Kate? I ask myself, playing my little game. It's something I've been doing ever since I learned about the theory of infinite parallels. That's the idea that a person's path through life isn't really a line, but a tree, every decision a divergent branch, resulting in a divergent you. I like the idea that there are a hundred different Kates, living a hundred different lives. 

Maybe in one of them, there are no monsters. Maybe that Kate's family is still whole. Maybe she and her mother never left home. Maybe they never came back. Maybe, maybe, maybe—and if there were a hundred lives, a hundred Kates, then I'm only one of them, and that one is exactly who I'm supposed to be. And in the end, it's easier to do what I have to do if I can know that somewhere else, another version of me gets the chance to make another, maybe better choice. Gets to live a better, or at least simpler, life. Maybe I'm even sparing them. Allowing another me to stay sane and safe. 

Where are you?

Lying in a field. Staring up at stars. The night is warm. The air is clean. The grass is cool beneath my back. There are no monsters in the dark. How nice. Meanwhile the chapel caves in, sending up a wave of embers. 

I burnt through two boarding schools (metaphorically speaking) in my first year of exile, another one in my second, hoping that would be it. But my father was determined (I have to get it from someone) to keep me away and he kept digging up more options. The fourth, was a reform school for troubled teens, had stuck it out for almost a year before giving up the ghost. The fifth, an all-boys academy willing to make an exception in exchange for a healthy endowment, lasted only a few short months, but my father must have had this hellish convent of a prep school on speed dial, a place already reserved, because I'd been packed off without so much as a detour back to V-City. Six schools in five years. But this is it. It has to be. 

Back in the present sirens wail in the distance, and I straighten up on the bench. 

Here we go. 

Within minutes the girls are pouring out of the dormitories, and Mother Alice appears in a dressing gown, pale face painted red by the light of the still-burning church. A string of obscenities leaves her mouth, I bet she's missing that whiskey. This time I don't bother suppressing my laughter, letting the cackling rise above the crackling flames, barely obscured by the deafening sirens as the fire trucks pull up.

The fire is put out and at last they find me smiling smugly, still sitting on my bench. 

"Up girl!" Mother Alice commands yanking me up off the bench and off toward the other sisters, "You've really done it this time. We've tried to forgive you but this time we may not be able to." 

Oh No! What ever will I do?

She continues, "At this point I'm afraid even our good Lord may not be able to forgive you." Her voice is stern and sombre like this is a terrible tragedy and I'm sure a more devout Catholic would be horrified but at this point I'm not afraid of Hell because I'm pretty sure I'm already here. So I just nod and say, "I'm very, very, very sorry" so she knows I'm mocking her.

And that seems to do it because her ringed hand comes crashing down hard against my cheek. I don't give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Even Catholic schools have their limits. An hour later, I'm sitting in the back seat of a police car from the near by sub city, Des Moines, my hands cuffed in my lap. The cuffs are cool and sturdy against my wrists as the vehicle barrels through the night. After a while the comfort becomes crushing and I console myself by reminding myself that they are more to protect the officer from me than the other way around. These cuffs will be my power, a reminder to the driver that I am the dangerous one here.

The car cuts swiftly across the dark expanse of land, its headlights carving sharp lines in the dark land that forms the northeast corner of Verity, away from the safety of the periphery, and toward the capital. Verity while not the largest of the 10 territories, is three days across by car, and we must still be a good four hours outside the capital, an hour from the edge of the waste—but there is no way this local officer is taking a wimpy sub-city vehicle like this through a place like that.

The car doesn't have much in the way of reinforcement, only its iron trim and the UVR —ultraviolet-reinforced—high beams dutifully tearing crisp lines through the darkness. The driver's knuckles are white on the wheel. I think for a moment that I should tell him not to worry, not yet at least, —we are still far enough out; the edges of Verity are still relatively safe, because none of the things that go bump in the capital want to cross the waste to get to them, not when there were still plenty of people to eat closer to V-City. But then he gives me a look of utter loathing and I decide to let him stew. 

(A/N this part is unfinished but I will continue it)

[apostate-in-an-alcove]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASH Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures🛑🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

[slutty-spider-talk]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASH Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures🛑🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

CHARLIE! Your pop's followers are at the door again!! I don't think they have pamphlets this time!

[touyasdoll]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASH Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures🛑🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

didn’t realize today was Ash Wednesday bc I’m not Catholic & I’ve never participated in Lent, but uhhh I do have enough of a relationship with God that this makes me feel pretty icky.

while I’m sure that humor was the intention here, I don’t really appreciate this in my inbox. I’m not particularly religious, but my faith is very personal to me and this makes me uncomfortable, so if you could please just refrain from sending me things like this, I would appreciate it <3 no ill will or anything, just a heads up. thank you <333

edit: sorry to anyone else who’s offended by this, because I realize it is upsetting. I hope that those of you who are celebrating today and starting off Lent have a good day, regardless of things like this <3

[tojigasm]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASH Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures🛑🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

Seek God 🙏

[piecksz]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASH Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures🛑🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

IM SORRY I USUALLY HATE THESE SO MUCH BUT THIS MADE ME LAUGH JDHDHDHDHDHDHHD LIKE THIS IS THE ONLY FUNNY ONE IVE SEEN

IN JESUS’ NAME WE PRAY AMEN!!

[gxlden-angels]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASS Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures🛑🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

Amen anon 😩🙏

[iwaasfairy]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASS Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures🛑🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

this message is so fucking chaotic i can't even... i don't have words im. you heard them kneel before our sacred daddy

[hhawks]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASH Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures🛑🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

LMFAO well. happy ash wednesday everybody!

[itoshi-s]

⬆️What’s UP ⬆️ my sexy 🔥 sickening💃🏿 and slutty 👅 servants🙏🏿 of the ☀️👵🏽LORD👵🏽☀️, it’s the 1st day of the LENTEN season🗓 which means it’s 🍆😘😲🤤SMASH WEDNESDAY 🍆😘😲🤤 otherwise known as 🛐 ASS Wednesday 🛐 . It’s time for all my Catholickers📿, Anglicunts⛪️, Methodicks♰, Presbitchterians🙏🏿 and Hoe-man Catholics👴🏻 to line up and kneel 🤤 before our sacred 👴🏻Daddy👴🏻 and beg 🍆 PLEASE, DADDY 🍆 to be 💦😝ceremonially marked💦😝with a ✝️cross✝️ and be reminded of their nasty 😈sinfulness 😈 and their sexy🤸🏿‍♂️ mortal 👯bodies🤽🏼‍♂️. Yes MAMA💃🏿 you are risen from the dust, but the REAL GAG is that to the dust you shall return ♋️! 🍆😘😲😜GASH Wednesday🍆😘😲😜 marks the beginning of the Lenten Season so let us pray🙏🏿. Dear ☀️👴🏻Heavenly Daddy☀️👴🏻 teach📏👨🏽‍🏫 my sinner😈 heart how to repent, help me deny my pleasures🛑🤤🌬 and prepare for the resurrection of the body of Christ so that he may RISE 🍆⬆️ and I may accept him😲🌮. 🙏🏿👄 AMAN ! ! ! 👄🙏🏿

😦 i missed this kinda vibe ngl asdfghgj

[pastordrnseharry]

ULTIMATE CARE DEVOTIONAL⛪

Wednesday, October 19, 2022

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Today’s Theme: ⛪️ GIVE GOD PRAISE

"Bless the Lord, O my soul and forget not all His benefits"

Text: Psalm 103:2

MESSAGE🍎

Praise is a potent and restorative instrument that refocusing our affections, realigning our priorities, and restoring our souls to God. When we praise God, our spirit becomes accessible, open, and receptive to receiving of God’s Holy Spirit.

Give God Praise is a way of expressing happiness and thanksgiving to God for what He has done, who He is, and what he will do.

When considering our text today written by David in considering the faithfulness of God, it is a delightful and profitable occupation to see the hand of God on the lives of ancient saints like David, Gideon, Elijah and others, and to observe his goodness in delivering them, his mercy in pardoning them, and his faithfulness in keeping his covenant with them. But would it not be even more interesting and profitable for us to remark the hand of God in our own lives today? Ought we not to look upon our own history as being at least as full of God, as full of his goodness and of his truth, as much a proof of his faithfulness and veracity, as the lives of any of the saints who have gone before? We do our Lord an injustice when we suppose that he wrought all his mighty acts, and showed himself strong for those in the early time, but doth not perform wonders or lay bare his arm for the saints who are now upon the earth. Let us review our own lives. Surely in these we may discover some happy incidents, refreshing to ourselves and glorifying to our God.

Do you have no deliverances?

Have you passed through no rivers, supported by the divine presence?

Have you walked through no fires unharmed?

Do you have no manifestations?

Do you not encounter choice favours?

The God who gave Solomon the desire of his heart, hath he never listened to you and answered your requests?

That ‘God of lavish bounty’ whom David sang, “Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things,” (Psalm 103:5) hath he never satiated you with fatness?

Have you never been made to lie down in green pastures?

Have you never been led by the still waters?

Surely the goodness of God has been the same to us as to the saints of old.

Let us, then, weave his mercies into a song. Let us take the pure gold of thankfulness, and the jewels of praise and make them into another crown for the head of Jesus. Let our souls give forth music as sweet and as exhilarating as came from David’s harp, while we praise the Lord whose mercy endureth forever.

Yes, the mercy of God is from everlasting to everlasting upon those that called upon him in truth. May the mercy of our God guarantee us the grace of praise, so that our lives will manifest praise, our thought will imbibe praise and our service will show forth the praises of our God, in Jesus mighty name, Amen.

PRAYERS ♨️

Heavenly Father, I thank you for your goodness and kindness that you have empower me with. I thank you for the protection and safety over my life and destiny.

Heavenly Father, I will live to bless your Holy Name for all your goodness and benefits upon me and my family.

Thank you, Father for showing me mercy even in a fortified city.

I pray that your everlasting praise will ever remain in my mouth, teach me and help me to walk in thy covenants always in Jesus mighty name, Amen.

Father, I decree and declare that my going out is blessed, and my returning is blessed. Empower me Lord with thy divine strength of praise, and help me to serve you to the end in Jesus mighty name, Amen.

FURTHER BIBLE READING

PSALM 104: 1-35.

BIBLE READING PLAN FOR THE YEAR, 2022.

MORNING: LEVITICUS, 6-7

EVENING: ACTS, 8-9

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Author: Pastor NseAbasi Harry

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HAMMER WORD BIBLE CHURCH, ABAK, NIGERIA ⛪