#John 10:10-11

[walkswithmyfather]

John 10:10-11 (NIV). “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”

“His love gives life!

God loves you with the greatest possible love that has ever existed.

His love is pure.

His love is above everything!

God's love is personal. He knows each of us individually and loves us personally. It is a Mighty Love that has no beginning and no end. It is a bond that draws us to God and motivates us to serve Him successfully!

GOD'S LOVE: Unconditional! Unending! Unchanging!”

Amen! 🙏🕊���

[kmac4him1st]

The Great Debate

Whatever "Great Debate" you have, make sure it is with the truth God has already spoken to you, and make sure Jesus is at the center of the debate, because without Him, nothing good or real can happen.

Even if a king had the best-equipped army, it would never be enough to save him. Even if the best warrior went to battle, he could not be saved simply by his strength alone. Human strength and the weapons of man are false hopes for victory; they may seem mighty, but they will always disappoint. Psalms 33:16-17 Without God We Are Not Good Without Jesus, we cannot fix what mankind has broken…

[z0mbgender]

Saw fandom crazy bc how do you get a confirmed saw 11 ONE DAY after saw 10 comes out

[starlightvld]

Bait & Switch, pt. 9

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 >>

Based on "I wasn't in that tunnel."

Call of Duty, soapghost // CW: Hurt/Comfort, MWIII spoilers

---

Cool air flows through the dimly lit back of the supply truck, slivers of daylight seeping through the canvas sides as it trundles along toward the RV point. Soap takes a deep breath, thankful for the reprieve from the Mexican heat as he huddles in the darkness between weapon crates.

Laswell insisted on keeping Soap's involvement a secret, but Ghost is... well... Ghost. And he can still read Soap better than anyone: his facial expressions, his nervous ticks, and all the words he leaves unspoken in the wake of his trauma.

In a strange reversal, though, Ghost now speaks enough for both of them — words meant to reassure Soap even without an apparent need for reassurance.

Won't let owt happen to you, Johnny. No matter what.

The words were whispered in Soap's ear not four hours ago as Ghost, Price, Gaz, Rudy, Alejandro, and a host of Vaqueros left for their part of the mission in the wee hours before dawn — all of them once again sporting their anonymizing ghost masks. No one was supposed to know that Soap was heading out on his own mission, but somehow Ghost did.

The knowledge settles deep inside and blooms into hope that he'll succeed and make it out alive. Whatever happens, though, one thing is certain.

Makarov has to die.

The trouble is, they aren't sure they'll know if the person who shows up is actually Makarov — not when he has a serum that could make anyone look like him. And that's where Soap comes in.

The truck downshifts and slows. Three measured thumps vibrate through the wall and into his head as the truck begins to turn, letting him know they've arrived at the lowest switchback on the mountain that edges the sprawling Mexican city where Makarov has agreed to meet them. 

The trapdoor in the truck bed is light under Soap's fingers as he opens it and squirms through the narrow hole. His tac vest and the hard case attached to his back both catch on the sides, but he grabs the specially-placed bars along the bottom of the truck and pulls himself through. The hatch snaps closed behind him as he clings to the bars with his hands and feet, the ground still flying by fast enough to give him pause. He waits until the truck is about to straighten and accelerate down the slope to the city before letting go.

The engine roars as the driver accelerates, leaving him skidding along the road in a cloud of dust. As intended, the case takes the brunt of the damage, and using the dust as cover, he leans to the side and slides off the road into the underbrush. His helmet and armored suit take a beating from the thick brush that catches at his clothes and finally brings him to a halt.

He inhales to double check the filters. To his relief, clean air pours into his lungs, even as the dust billows around him. As the cloud dissipates, he clicks through on comms.

"Watcher-1, this is Snake."

"Snake, this is Watcher-1. Send traffic."

"Successful fall. On the move."

"Roger that. Stay out of sight. And good luck. Out."

Soap glances at his watch. Four hours to go.

He takes a deep breath, ignores the shadows flashing in the corners of his eyes, and begins moving toward the city below.

---

Four hours later, Soap is safely ensconced in his hiding place on top of a six-story building near the warehouse they'd chosen for the confrontation. The modified sniper rifle feels familiar in his hands, though it's strange to have the helmet visor between his eye and the scope. He should be shaking with nerves, but the calm that always comes over him in a sniper's nest is a welcome balm to his nerves, even if shadows still stalk the corners of his eyes.

Laswell asked him to be here as an ace up their sleeve, and he agreed. How could he stay behind when Makarov was involved? Still, he would've said no if not for the hours of target practice with Ghost over the past few days. The repetition took the edge off the latent brainwashing, allowing him to hold a gun without insidious thoughts overwhelming him — exposure therapy at its best. Or worst, depending on how he looks at it. But time spent with Ghost is never a waste in his opinion, even if Soap is fighting his inner demons at the time.

Maybe especially when he's fighting those demons.

And so, here he is. Waiting for someone who probably isn't Makarov to show up.

Sweats slides between his shoulder blades as the late-morning air heats up. He's in a shadowed alcove between ductwork and a massive air handler unit, relying on the contrast with the bright day to hide him from enemy eyes. Movement below catches his attention, and despite his calm, a chill runs down his spine a moment before the comm chatter starts.

"Price to Ghost. Sit rep."

"Ghost 'ere. Nearly in position."

Soap frowns. Ghost isn't supposed to be on overwatch. A Vaquero was tasked with that.

"Alright, everyone. Take positions and stay off comms. Price out."

Soap frantically scans the rooftops for any sign of Ghost, but his search is cut off when a row of armored vehicles pull up outside the warehouse. A small team of ghost operators open a loading bay door to bring out someone with Soap's height and build in a replica of his Agent Zero suit. In return, Makarov is supposed to be providing intel on the dirty Generals and the super soldier program, which they are well aware he won't actually provide.

It's all a little too obviously a trap for someone as clever and conniving as Makarov. Their saving grace is his obsessive personality — they're betting he'll show up in person on the off chance he can get Soap back and stick it to Price and the 141 at the same time. He'll have countermeasures in place, which is why Soap is here.

He's the counter to the countermeasures.

Or he's supposed to be.

Except that when the door to the middle SUV opens and a man exits the vehicle, Soap's entire body freezes.

Makarov.

The shaking he thought he'd avoided slams into him full force. He can't even touch the rifle without the scope shaking too badly to see anything. He curses and forces himself to breathe.

In. Out. In. Out.

The shaking stabilizes enough for him to correct for it, though darker figures dance in his peripheral vision. He inhales a shaking breath as Makarov's face fills the scope.

In. Out. In. Out.

He pulls the trigger.

Makarov slaps a hand to his neck and dives for the car. A gunfight breaks out, but the ghost team is ready for it. They take down the enemy soldiers with a speed that leaves Soap breathless, and Makarov is in their custody by the time he begins to shake from the effects of Soap's dart.

The screams reach Soap even from so far away. Even with ear protection.

And in the midst of the chaos, the shadows in his peripheral vision move in an abnormal way, surrounding him. His chest heaves with all the amped-up panic he's barely keeping at bay.

It's all in his head. The shadows might be deeper, more solid in the Mexican sun, but they're still just shadows. They aren't real. None of it is re—

"And here you are at last. I wondered if your Laswell would be stupid enough to bring you after all."

Soap goes perfectly still. The scene below plays out in silence, Price and Gaz securing the man who once looked like Makarov and now looks like he's melting. But it's all visual noise to Soap.

Because he knows that voice.

"No," he whispers through the clawing, choking panic. "Nononono. Not real. Just a hallucination."

But his hallucinations have never talked to him before. And never in that hated voice.

Hands grasp him. Too many hands. On his arms, his back, his head.

They pull him up from his sniper position and pull him away from the edge. He struggles, his breath coming in panicked gasps.

They try to take the rifle from his hands. 

He fights harder. 

Fights for his fucking life. And for Ghost.

As they turn him around, he elbows the person to his right, lifts the rifle, and shoots. The man with Makarov's face and voice grunts and slaps at his arm.

"Some toxin to counter the serum, I suppose?" 

Makarov's soldiers wrest the gun from his grasp and hold him, one on each side and a third behind him who is already attempting to remove his helmet. Soap's body is in overdrive, heart racing and breaths coming in short gasps as he continues to struggle against both the panic and those holding him. Makarov opens his arms wide and stares at Soap with that awful, smug look on his face.

"Fuck you," Soap yells, his voice guttural and harsh. "I won't go back!"

Makarov drops his hands and tilts his head to the side. "What a shame all that work with the previous serum has gone to waste." He clicks his tongue in a chiding way before his smug grin makes a reappearance. "Good thing I've got an upgraded version just for you. One dose and the results are gloriously permanent. Vitya?"

The soldier behind him tugs on Soap's helmet so hard his whole body bends backward.

A gunshot rings out.

A spray of blood coats Soap's helmet.

The hands on either side of him fall away as the soldiers fall to the ground in a heap — a single, clean shot through both their heads. Makarov and the soldier behind Soap scramble for cover, leaving him to fall backward between the dead bodies.

His back hits the ground, punching all the air from his lungs. Disoriented from the fall and on the verge of a full panic attack, Soap rolls to his hands and knees. 

A feminine voice warbles in his ear, but he can't think. Can't understand. 

He only knows he has to get away.

Away. Away. Away—

Everything stops, including his overwhelmed body and mind, when a gruff voice clicks through the comms.

"Go, Johnny! Get out of here! And stay low."

With his heart about to burst in his chest, Soap looks up and sees an achingly familiar specter leap from behind a row of ductwork to catch the fleeing Makarov. Using the worm's momentum against him, Ghost slams Makarov face first into the air handler. Before he can recover, Ghost grabs Makarov's upper arms and hauls him around to deflect the sudden barrage of bullets from the remaining soldier.

Somehow the bullets miss. Soap meets Makarov's gaze, and that smug smile sends chills down Soap's spine even as his blood boils with rage.

It was a distraction. A fucking distraction. Because Soap can see what Ghost can't with Makarov's back to him—

A syringe in hand.

Fire and ice pouring through abused veins.

Endless, searing, mind-killing pain — this time with no way out.

Permanent.

He won't go back. He won't. But he'll die before he lets Makarov take Ghost instead.

A desperate cry wrenches from Soap's lungs as he launches himself from the ground and into the rain of gunfire.

"Johnny, no!"

Soap ignores Ghost's desperate cry. He leaps just as Makarov lifts the needle to jab into Ghost's neck.

And the burn of all those impacts is worth it for the brief flash of terror in Makarov's eyes.

---

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 >>

[bl00dfroma-fairy]

[jaisaac-cosplay]

So I'm relistening to Malevolent

[fanofspooky]

The game continues 9.27.24

NEW SAW TEASER!

[ohworm-writes]

✰☆★—Call of Duty: Modern Warfare—★☆✰

"All the coldest, hardest people you once meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of LIVING."

✪ MULTIPLE CHARACTERS ✪

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Character Family Outlines

John Price, Simon Riley, John MacTavish, Kyle Garrick, Kate Laswell, Valeria Garza, Vladimir Makarov, König, Phillip Graves, Rodolfo Parra, Alejandro Vargas, Alex Keeler, Farah Karim, Nikolai

✪ TASK FORCE 141 ✪

Station 141

Station 141 x Hairdresser!Reader

✪ CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE ✪

Veteran!Neighbor!Price x Reader headcanons

Firefighter!Price x Reader - Coming Home Late

✪ NIKOLAI ✪

Nikolai Headcanons

Honey and Molasses

As Good As I Do

✪ VLADIMIR MAKAROV ✪

Pistol Whipped

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Good Shepherd

I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep. — John 10:11 | (NASB77) New American Standard Bible Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. All rights reserved. Cross References: Psalm 23:1; Isaiah 40:11; Ezekiel 34:2; Ezekiel 34:11; Ezekiel 34:23; John 10:2; John 10:14

Read full chapter

I Am the Good Shepherd

[mowbrayvongothe]

Entering episode 43 of malevolent after being gone for two months is wild what is going on??? What??? The fuck?????

[umathurwin]

idc that season was fucking amazing. i’ll be rewatching a million times for sure. my God they knocked it out of the park

[wiirocku]

John 10:11 (NLT) - “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd sacrifices His life for the sheep.

[walkswithmyfather]

John 3:26-31 (NASB). “And they came to John and said to him, “Rabbi, He who was with you beyond the Jordan, to whom you have testified—behold, He is baptizing and all the people are coming to Him.” John replied, “A person can receive not even one thing unless it has been given to him from heaven. You yourselves are my witnesses that I said, ‘I am not the Christ,’ but, ‘I have been sent ahead of Him.’ He who has the bride is the groom; but the friend of the groom, who stands and listens to him, rejoices greatly because of the groom’s voice. So this joy of mine has been made full. He must increase, but I must decrease. “He who comes from above is above all; the one who is only from the earth is of the earth and speaks of the earth. He who comes from heaven is above all.”

Matthew 11:9-10 (NASB). “But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and one who is more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written: ‘Behold, I am sending My messenger ahead of You, Who will prepare Your way before You.’”

John 1:29 (NKJV). “The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him, and said, “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!”

“Faith to Be Less” By In Touch ministries:

“Smaller roles in God’s kingdom don’t have smaller joy.”

“In today’s passage, we see the disciples of John the Baptist showing concern for their leader, or perhaps for the viability of his ministry. “The one you identified as the Messiah is also baptizing people,” they said, “and everybody is going to him instead of coming to us” (v. 26 NLT). They knew John wasn’t the Messiah, or at least that he said he wasn’t. Perhaps they hoped his ministry would continue to be relevant, and that he’d receive the respect he deserved as a prophet. For these reasons, John’s response may have surprised them.

“This joy of mine has been made full,” he said. “[Jesus] must increase, but I must decrease” (vv. 29-30). John’s faith in Christ enabled him to handle being less. His faith meant stepping from center stage into the shadows. But John had no sadness or regret; he felt only complete joy.

The Baptizer understood his role. His faithful service—which Jesus acknowledged after Herod had John arrested (Matthew 11:9-10)—was just that: service. John recognized that his primary work was to set the stage for the Messiah.

Our role in God’s work is similar. Like John, let us find our fullest joy in bearing witness, embracing the lesser role that points to the Savior and says, “Behold, the Lamb of God!” (John 1:29).

[anastpaul]

One Minute Reflection – 16 June – Fear not, from henceforth thou shalt catch men. - Luke 5:10

One Minute Reflection – 16 June – “The Month of the Sacred Heart of Jesus” – St John Francis Régis SJ (1597-1640) Priest, Confessor, Missionary –The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost– Romans 8:18-23; Luke 5:1-11 – Scripture search here: https://www.drbo.org/ “ And Jesus saith to Simon: Fear not, from henceforth thou shalt catch men. – Luke 5:10 REFLECTION – “On that night of light [ Christmas, at…

[theskydoesgreatthingsnow]

John Wick 4 is good.

It does everything you like about the series. Monosyllabic dialogue. A dog biting a guys balls. People in a nightclub who don’t really care about murder happening. John getting hit by speeding cars and getting up like he just tripped. Pop star Rina Sawayama kills people. Hotel management discussions. Beautiful, beautiful action in an extremely public place that no one calls the cops about. Glory shots of Jesus Christ the redeemer. Laurence Fishburn rhyming. Wife guy energy.

10/10. Rips, Slaps, Stabs, Fucks.