#Prayer Fasting Devotions Struggle

[womanlives]

wild that @tewwor would shove this in my face and not expect me to do anything about it

Mercy is happy. It’s new and annoying and weird and unexpected and she doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s got her doing weird shit like smiling at nothing and googling where flower stores are. Just in case. Today it’s got her with a spring in her step and two buckets of chicken, headed for Jie’s hideout near the southwest of town. He hasn’t answered her texts, but that’s okay. He never does. There’s no reason to worry. Not over someone who can pin her to a wall seven times out of ten.

Then she gets to his door — ajar — and sees the red seeping through the floor.

This is the trouble with being happy.

Mercy is no longer happy. Mercy is now a cat, inclined to use soft paws and slice throats. She is also fiercely — fiercely, savagely, tenderly, relentlessly — territorial. But unlike a cat, she doesn’t get that way about places. She gets that way about people.

Fuck it. Fuck training, fuck survival-sense, fuck stealth. She drops the chicken she’s picked up for Jie, pulls out her knife, and shoves the door open with her shoulder. It takes a try or two; there’s a body pressed up against the inside of it, where some poor fuck with a knife in their back tried to crawl to safety, but instead bled out and died. Good riddance. Not Jie. Not important.

The blood trail leads to the kitchen. Mercy follows it, eyes cold, face blank. The metal press of her knife in her palm is a small comfort. Her grip tightens. She whirls into the kitchen, sees carnage. Sees Jie.

Alive. He’s alive. Standing by himself — barely. He wheels towards her with a look of empty fury on his face, and she feels it: the brief furrow in his brow, the split-second where his heartbeat stutters in confusion. Hers, too. In relief and terror and adrenaline and god knows what else. It’s too much, too fast. She loses control of her mask. The cold indifference drops to the floor and shatters like the jars surrounding him. In its place are wild-worried eyes, and a scrunched freckled nose, and lips parted in a silent prayer. Alive. Alive, alive, alive alive

Mercy’s knife drops from nerveless fingers. This is the cardinal sin. Never drop your weapon. In another life she would’ve gotten flayed alive for that, but in this one she doesn’t care. She can’t get to him fast enough, can’t open her arms for him fast enough. One ropes around his waist, supporting him. The other winds up his back, cupping the nape of his neck. “Hey,” savagely soft, savagely hoarse, just on the verge of cracking because there’s too much emotion and it’s struggling to hold, “hey. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Her grip on him tightens, just a little. A comforting squeeze. Slowly, carefully, Mercy steps back, guiding him with her. She cuts a path through the shattered glass and broken bodies, through the kitchen, into the living room, angling for the couch. She can feel his blood stain her clothes and skin. Everything about her is raw and hypersensitive. She wants to burn his enemies alive and stake their heads on spikes outside and kiss each wound until he’s whole and healthy. One thing at a time.

She settles for helping him onto the couch and pressing her forehead hard against his. Her eyes close. She inhales his scent — sweat, pain, blood, exhaustion — and opens them again. They’re dilated, dark with devotion. The violent kind. Her hand reaches up to caress the side of his jaw. She’s checking his pulse. The other runs lightly along his torso, mapping his body for injuries. Heart — fine. No frontal punctures to the lungs. Or kidneys, or liver.

“How bad, baby?” Her voice comes out as barely as a rasp, she’s so fucking worried. So fucking mad.

[bipolarman2022]

PARTE 2: In a small Andalusian town lived Andrés, a man deeply devoted to his Christian faith. Since childhood, he had been raised in Catholic doctrine, and his life revolved around the church. He spent his days teaching history at a local school and in the parish, where he found solace in prayer and community.

However, Andrés' life changed dramatically when he met Karim, a Muslim man who had recently moved to the city. Karim, an imposing man, with a presence that inspired both respect and fear, opened an Islamic studies center in the neighborhood. Unlike other Muslims Andrés had met, Karim was radical in his faith, and his vision of Islam did not allow for compromise. He firmly believed in the supremacy of Islam and the need to impose his vision on all those around him.

Andrés, driven by curiosity, began to frequent Karim's center. At first, he was only looking to learn more about a different culture, but he soon found himself caught up in the strength of Karim's convictions. Their conversations were not dialogues, but imposing monologues where Karim made it clear that absolute truth could only be found in Islam. Every discussion, every word, was imbued with an authority that Andrew had never before experienced.

Karim was not content to simply state his ideas; he demanded loyalty. His faith was severe and his interpretation of the Koran unyielding. “Christianity is a lie, a corruption of the truth,” he told Andrew in a firm tone. “Only Islam is the true faith, and those who do not follow it are damned.” These words hit Andrew like a hammer, shattering the certainties he had had throughout his life.

As Andrew spent more time with Karim, he began to feel increasing pressure. Doubts about his own faith became an unbearable burden. Karim not only spoke of the virtues of Islam, but insisted on the need to submit completely to Allah, under penalty of eternal punishment. Andrés's internal struggle intensified with each encounter, and Karim, aware of Andrés's vulnerability, began to manipulate him more intensely.

Karim not only preached the faith, but imposed strict laws and rituals. Andrés was forced to stop attending church, and any mention of his former faith was severely punished. Karim required him to pray five times a day, to undergo strict fasting during Ramadan, and to learn to recite the Quran in Arabic. The freedom Andrés had initially felt quickly faded, replaced by a regime of control that gave him no respite.

One day, Karim handed Andrés a written document, detailing the laws he had to follow if he wanted to continue being part of the center. Among them was the prohibition of any contact with his former Christian friends, the obligation to contribute financially to the center, and the acceptance of polygamy as a divine norm. But what disturbed Andrew most was the final clause: any attempt to leave Islam would be punishable by death, according to the Sharia law that Karim upheld as absolute.

Caught between his fear and his faith, Andrew didn't know what to do. He tried to escape Karim's influence, but Karim watched him constantly. His former life disappeared, replaced by a world of strict rules and impending punishments. Karim's teachings had not only changed him, but had robbed him of his freedom, leaving him a prisoner within his own mind.

Finally, under inhuman pressure and constant fear, Andrew gave in. He uttered the Shahada, not as an act of sincere faith, but as a last desperate attempt to find some peace amid the storm. Yet peace never came. Every day was a struggle to meet Karim's increasingly extreme demands. His faith in Christianity was crushed, not by conviction, but by oppression.

Over time, Andrew became a shadow of his former self. His initial devotion morphed into total submission, not to God, but to Karim’s ruthless will. The church, which had been his refuge, was left behind, and his life became a perpetual ordeal under the draconian rules Karim imposed on him.

Karim, pleased with Andrew’s transformation, continued to expand his influence in the community, imposing his interpretation of Islam with an iron fist. Andrew, for his part, lived out the rest of his days trapped in a cage he himself had helped build, a cage made of fear, blind obedience, and a faith he had never fully understood.

Andrew’s story thus became a dark reminder of how faith, when imposed with violence, can destroy not only a man’s beliefs, but also his spirit.

[warpedpuppeteer]

20 Questions for fic writers

Tagged by the ever lovely @scknight05

1-How many works do you have on ao3?

- Only 18 in total. 6 for Buddie.

2-What’s your total ao3 word count?

- 78,631

3-What fandoms do you write for?

Currently just for 911. BTS. I wrote for some anime fandoms back in the days of ffnet.

4-Top 5 fics by kudos?

♡ They're all Buddie fics!

This is Our Happily Ever After

I’ll rearrange the letters of your name to spell love

Lies written in ink (can be facts too)

This is my devotion (you are my prayer)

Traces of your love under my skin

5-Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely. Might take some time but I love getting comments and replying to each one of them 🥺

6-What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None (yet?). I don't like writing angsty endings. Such a huge sucker for happy endings!

7-What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them? 😂 But I guess, without spoiling the ending, this probably counts as the happiest so far.

I’ll rearrange the letters of your name to spell love

8-Do you get hate on your fics?

Not in this fandom no. (I've only received hate once, ever)

9-Do you write smut?

Yes. I've written drabbles but never a full fic because smut fics aren't my thing. I'm not very good at it because I tend to lose patience very fast 😂.

10-Craziest crossover?

None. I've never written crossovers. Generally not a fan of it. But in the future, who knows?

11-Have you ever had a fic stolen?

None that I'm aware of so far. I'm not known enough for this to happen 😂

12-Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone offered to translate one with credits but I don't think it was ever posted 😂

13-Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not anything published. I'd love to try once but I'm not sure how that'd work.

14-All time favorite ship?

As someone who can never decide on anything this is the worst question you can ask me 😂. I love too many. Buddie is definitely one of the top ones along with Madney, Henren and Bathena. Others include Merthur, Cherik, Kagakuro, Makoharu, Root/Shaw, Morgwen, Stony, WinterFalcon, McDanno, SNS, WeiLan, Edwin, Stormpilot, TouYuu (my babies), KuroFei.

15-What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

So far none.

16-What are your writing strengths?

Writing fluff probably; I've been told I write a lot of feels inducing fluff? 😂. I really love writing about gentle small acts of love between characters. Just them taking care of each other. Sappy stuff.

17-What are your writing weaknesses?

Time management and actually getting to the writing part 💀. My writing is very muse based, I can't just sit down and start writing like some people. It's truly a struggle 😭

18-Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Never written any in mine. Read plenty and I'm fine with it. It's only slightly frustrating when the translation is not included because it takes me out of the story when I'm trying to read and translate at the same time.

19-First fandom you wrote in?

Before I even knew what fanfiction was, I had multiple notebooks glued together with the story of an OC in the X-men Evolution universe 😂. The officially published one is either Bleach or Naruto, can't remember.

20-Favorite fic you’ve written?

Listen, I really kind of love all of them. Not because they're good or whatever but because I wrote them you know. Like, I really created something. Every fic good or bad has a little piece of my soul in it so I just love all of them 🥺

And which one I like best differs from moment to moment. Currently it's probably Lies written in ink (can be facts too) because it was a bit of a different writing style for me.

Tagging: @lemotmo @eddiediazismyhusband if you both haven't done this yet. And anyone else who wants to join please do and tag me so that I can read it 🫶🏽.

[lghitofgospel]

Women's Bible Study Near Me: A Journey of Faith and Fellowship

Finding a women's Bible study near me is more than just locating a group of like-minded individuals—it's about discovering a supportive and nurturing community where women come together to grow spiritually, explore the depths of the Bible, and share their journeys of faith. These studies aren't just a weekly routine but a lifeline of encouragement, learning, and shared experiences. Whether you're new to the faith or have been walking with Christ for years, joining a women's Bible study offers countless benefits, both spiritually and socially.

Why a Women's Bible Study Near Me is Essential

We live in a fast-paced world where it’s easy to feel isolated or disconnected from others. A women's Bible study near me is an oasis of community in the hustle and bustle of daily life. It’s a chance to pause, reflect, and draw closer to God while also bonding with other women. Bible studies are often tailored to address the unique challenges women face in modern life, offering not only spiritual growth but practical applications for everyday situations.

When I first sought out a women's Bible study near me, I didn’t know what to expect. But from that first meeting, I felt a warmth and sense of belonging that I hadn't experienced elsewhere. The women I met became more than just friends—they became sisters in Christ, supporting me through life's ups and downs.

What to Expect from a Women’s Bible Study Near Me

If you’re considering joining a women's Bible study near me, you might be wondering what it entails. Typically, these gatherings are informal and relaxed, often held in local churches, community centres, or even someone's living room. Each week, the group will focus on a particular book or section of the Bible, and discussions will delve into its meaning and relevance to our lives.

Whether you’re a seasoned scholar of the Word or just starting your journey, a women's Bible study near me offers an open and welcoming environment. There’s no pressure to have all the answers—everyone is there to learn and grow together. Often, these studies incorporate prayer, reflection, and personal sharing, making each meeting a time of connection and spiritual nourishment.

How to Find a Women’s Bible Study Near Me

With the rise of technology, it has never been easier to find a women's Bible study near me. A quick online search will reveal local church groups, Bible study apps, and social media communities dedicated to helping women connect through Scripture. Many churches have online directories or events pages where you can find details on their Bible study groups. You can also ask around in your local community—there’s a good chance a neighbour, friend, or co-worker attends a women's Bible study near me and can recommend one.

Another option is to check popular platforms like Amazon for study materials or devotional books that might be used by groups in your area. Many women’s Bible study groups build their sessions around books like The Confident Woman Devotional, which is available on Amazon. Click here to check Amazon for recommendations on study guides that may be used in local groups!

The Benefits of Joining a Women’s Bible Study Near Me

One of the greatest blessings of joining a women's Bible study near me is the sense of community it provides. Life can be challenging, and it’s easy to feel like you’re walking through it alone. But in a Bible study, you’ll meet women from all walks of life who are united by their love for God. Together, you’ll encourage one another, pray for one another, and grow in your understanding of the Bible.

Beyond spiritual growth, a women's Bible study near me can also lead to lifelong friendships. Many women find that these groups are a safe space to share their struggles, joys, and questions without fear of judgement. It's a beautiful reminder that we are all on a journey, and none of us have it all figured out.

And if you're someone who loves to get your hands on helpful resources, be sure to check Amazon for an array of Bible study books and devotionals that are often recommended in women's Bible studies.

Finding the Right Fit: Types of Women’s Bible Studies Near Me

No two women's Bible studies near me are exactly alike. Depending on your interests, stage of life, and schedule, you might want to explore different types of groups. Some studies are more structured, focusing on a specific curriculum or book, while others are more discussion-based. Some may meet in the mornings over coffee, while others gather in the evenings.

If you’re looking for a casual, conversational atmosphere, you may want to join a small group hosted in someone’s home. These settings are often more intimate and allow for deeper connections. On the other hand, if you prefer a more formal approach, many churches offer structured women’s Bible studies with specific teaching sessions and group discussions.

How to Get Involved in a Women’s Bible Study Near Me

So how can you get involved in a women's Bible study near me? Start by reaching out to local churches or community centres and ask about their women’s groups. You can also check bulletin boards, websites, or social media for upcoming events. Don’t hesitate to drop in on a few sessions to see if a particular group is the right fit for you. Most groups welcome newcomers with open arms, and there’s usually no obligation to commit right away.

If you’re interested in diving deeper into specific themes or topics, you might also want to check online retailers like Amazon for Bible study books that align with your interests. Many groups use study guides or devotionals as a foundation for their discussions, so check Amazon for the latest titles that might be featured in a women's Bible study near me.

Final Thoughts: A Women's Bible Study Near Me Can Change Your Life

A women's Bible study near me is more than just a weekly meeting—it's an opportunity to grow in your relationship with God and with other women who share your faith. The friendships you form, the wisdom you gain, and the spiritual growth you experience are all part of this beautiful journey. Whether you’re looking to deepen your understanding of Scripture, find encouragement, or simply connect with others, there’s a women's Bible study near me that’s waiting for you.

So, what are you waiting for? Take that first step and explore the many women's Bible studies near me—you’ll be amazed at the transformation it can bring to your life. Don’t forget to check Amazon for Bible study resources that can enhance your personal journey as well!

This post contains affiliate links. If you use these links to buy something we may earn a commission. Thanks.”

[reynanghugot]

I closed out July and started August with a roller coaster of emotions. As you all know, I've been struggling with my current health situation, but I did not let it ruin my day.

I ended my third-year second semester [July 29] with a bang by passing our final research defense with flying colors. [If you're following me on Instagram, you were able to see the snap of that in my story.]

I was admitted the following Sunday [July 30] for my RAI therapy the next day, Monday [July 31].

The first night of my therapy was fine. Apparently, I woke up on Tuesday. [August 1] with a swollen neck, no voice, a dry throat, and total pain. I spent the first half of my day in a hospital bed and just had my lunch late because I felt nauseous, but despite that, I was able to manage to schedule some Instagram posts and launch my first one. [big thanks to @/kindclouds for all the help.]

I had the same feeling when I woke up on Wednesday, and I'm a bit irritated already because I am having a hard time pulling myself out of bed and taking a bath [as it's a requirement to take a bath at least twice a day to wash off the radiation] but at the same time praying that my radiation will go down to at least 3 or 2.5 in order for me to get the full body scan the same day. After I took a bath, the nuclear medicine technician called me for the radiation exam, and viola! I'm at 3, and I got my body scanned that day, which took around 40 minutes to an hour. I had a good nap too while she was doing the scan, lol! I didn't do anything the whole day after that, as I still felt nauseous. I had my devotional prayer before I went to bed and had a good cry, asking for more help, peace of mind, and to be discharged the next day.

Thursday, I woke up with the same side effect but was hoping that there would be another good news to follow once my doctor visited me early that morning, and an answered prayer indeed, I was informed that I'm truly ready to be discharged that day too. So I messaged my mom and asked her to go to the nurse station asap and process my billing and everything, as I can't go outside of my room yet.

I'm so nervous to death about my bill because I am expecting to cash out for my room and board, but the universe really loves me because I didn't pay anything for the whole procedure because of my HMO, PWD, and PH. I didn't expect that at all as my coverage is not that big and I don't have a 100+k to cash out at all. It was such a relief. [and the funny part was that mom cried first before she went back to the nurse station to forward the discharge stab or something from the billing department.]

That's my latest chika for now. I hope everything goes well in the next few days. I might not be allowed to go out until Monday, especially if it's crowded, but I'm glad I am home, and I hope that the scan will be all cleared and there will be no other hospital staycations in the next few months. Praying for my fast recovery in order for me to go back on track. There is still a lot on my plate for both academics and a new industry that I would like to enter. Happy Friday, Tumblr!

[thestressedsimmer]

July 1st, 1315: Medieval Church Style, Willow Creek

After days of walking and hearing the cries and shouts of the townspeople (and giving donations to the poor in the queen's name,) they finally made it to the church where Queen Joan was to be buried. It was decorated beautifully with both the Comyn and Capet family crests. Portraits of the queen were hanging and her coffin was moved from the carriage and to the altar where prayer candles and many flowers and statues were placed beside her.

The flag that had been draped over the coffin was folded and placed to the side; the family would probably bring that for her husband. To help in his grief.

Everyone took their seats for the mass, the king's family on the right and the queen's on the left. The air felt heavy as mass proceeded - the sounds of sniffles and cries filling the air.

Duchess Elizabeth and Baroness Joan were completely beside themselves as the homily started. The priest speaking about the queen and her life - about how many hearts she charmed and how kind she could be. He praised her efforts to make the lives of Willow Creek's citizens better and her devotion to the Watcher. He praised how she kept going despite her sickly disposition and reminded everyone in the room that her pain and struggle was over now, she'd go to Paradise to be with her son.

Hextilda felt somewhat numb as she listened to this. After coming so close to death herself because of the same illness that her sister had? She felt it was hollow. She didn't think she'd rather be dead than "suffer," but. . . She also appreciated that it seemed to calm her mother.

The line for communion was more solemn than usual. Because the coffin was there. It also moved faster than usual, everyone trying to get through so they could finish Joan's rights and also focus on her instead of this.

Abigall felt somewhat confused as mass finished, wiggling in her seat. It had been an hour and her heart hurt like she had never felt before... But Queen Mother Elizabeth sat with her, frequently reaching over and taking her hand.

When the mass part was over? She couldn't get up fast enough.

Ysole went straight to the coffin at the end of mass. She finally lost the tenuous composure she'd had the whole time and started sobbing, ignoring everyone who was trying to console her and talk to her.

Unfortunately, she had to be dragged away so Joan could be buried below the altar; beside her son, brother-in-law, and father-in-law. Waiting for her husband to join her.

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Wednesday, 13, March, 2024

march 1_march 29

VENERABLE JOHN CASSIAN THE ROMAN, ABBOT (435)

Saint John Cassian the Roman was born around 360, probably in Lesser Scythia (in Dacia Pontica). His pious Christian parents gave him an excellent classical education, and also instructed him in the Holy Scriptures and in the spiritual life.

Saint John entered a monastery in the diocese of Tomis, where his friend and relative Saint Germanus labored as an ascetic. In 380, desiring to venerate the Holy Places, Saint John went to Jerusalem with his sister and his friend Saint Germanus. The two monks stayed at a Bethlehem monastery, not far from where the Savior was born.

After five years at the monastery, Saints John and Germanus traveled through the Thebaid and the desert monasteries of Sketis for seven years, drawing upon the spiritual experience of countless ascetics. The Egyptian monks taught them many useful things about spiritual struggles, prayer, and humility. Like honeybees they journeyed from place to place, gathering the sweet nectar of spiritual wisdom. The notes Saint John made formed the basis of his book called CONFERENCES WITH THE FATHERS in twenty-four chapters.

Returning to Bethlehem for a brief time, the spiritual brothers lived for three years in complete solitude. Then they went back to Egypt and lived there until 399. Because of the disturbances caused by Archbishop Theophilus of Alexandria to the monasteries along the Nile, they decided to go to Constantinople, after hearing of the virtue and holiness of Saint John Chrysostom. The great hierarch ordained Saint John Cassian as a deacon and accepted him as a disciple. John and Germanus remained with Saint John Chrysostom for five years, learning many profitable things from him.

When Chrysostom was exiled from Constantinople in 404, Saints John Cassian and Germanus went to Rome to plead his case before Innocent I. Cassian was ordained to the holy priesthood in Rome, or perhaps later in Gaul. After Chrysostom’s death in 407, Saint John Cassian went to Massilia [Marseilles] in Gaul (now France). There he established two cenobitic monasteries in 415, one for men and another for women, based on the model of Eastern monasticism.

At the request of Bishop Castor of Aptia Julia (in southern Gaul), Cassian wrote THE INSTITUTES OF CENOBITIC LIFE (De Institutis Coenobiorum) in twelve books, describing the life of the Palestinian and Egyptian monks. Written between 417-419, the volume included four books describing the clothing of the monks of Palestine and Egypt, their schedule of prayer and services, and how new monks were received into the monasteries.The last eight books were devoted to the eight deadly sins and how to overcome them. Through his writings, Saint John Cassian provided Christians of the West with examples of cenobitic monasteries, and acquainted them with the asceticism of the Orthodox East.

Cassian speaks as a spiritual guide about the purpose of life, about attaining discernment, about renunciation of the world, about the passions of the flesh and spirit, about the hardships faced by the righteous, and about prayer.

Saint John Cassian also wrote CONFERENCES WITH THE FATHERS (Collationes Patrum) in twenty-four books in the form of conversations about the perfection of love, about purity, about God’s help, about understanding Scripture, about the gifts of God, about friendship, about the use of language, about the four levels of monasticism, about the solitary life and cenobitic life, about repentance, about fasting, about nightly meditations, and about spiritual mortification. This last has the explanatory title ��I do what I do not want to do.”

Books 1-10 of the CONFERENCES describe Saint John’s conversations with the Fathers of Sketis between 393-399. Books 11-17 relate conversations with the Fathers of Panephysis, and the last seven books are devoted to conversations with monks from the region of Diolkos.

In 431 Saint John Cassian wrote his final work, ON THE INCARNATION OF THE LORD, AGAINST NESTORIUS (De Incarnationem Domini Contra Nestorium). In seven books he opposed the heresy, citing many Eastern and Western teachers to support his arguments.

In his works, Saint John Cassian was grounded in the spiritual experience of the ascetics, and criticized the abstract reasoning of Saint Augustine (June 15). Saint John said that “grace is defended less adequately by pompous words and loquacious contention, dialectic syllogisms and the eloquence of Cicero (i.e. Augustine), than by the example of the Egyptian ascetics.” In the words of Saint John of the Ladder (March 30), “great Cassian reasons loftily and excellently.” His writings are also praised in the Rule of Saint Benedict.

St John Cassian relics in the main Church of St Victor Abbaye in Marseille France.

Saint John Cassian lived in the West for many years, but his spiritual homeland was the Orthodox East. He fell asleep in the Lord in the year 435. His holy relics rest in an underground chapel in the Monastery of Saint Victor in Marseilles. His head and right hand are in the main church.

THE MONK LEO, CAPPADOCIAN MONASTIC

Saint Leo of Cappadocia fulfilled the commandment to love his neighbor by suggesting to the Saracens, who had captured three sickly monks, that he take the place of these infirm captives with himself, since he was healthy and able to work.

While journeying in the desert, Saint Leo weakened and was not able to go any farther. He was beheaded with the sword, thereby laying down his life for his neighbor.

JOEL 2:12-26

12 Now, therefore, says the Lord, Turn to Me with all your heart, With fasting, with weeping, and with mourning. 13 So rend your heart, and not your garments; Return to the Lord your God, For He is gracious and merciful, Slow to anger, and of great kindness; And He relents from doing harm. 14 Who knows if He will turn and relent, And leave a blessing behind Him-- A grain offering and a drink offering For the Lord your God? 15 Blow the trumpet in Zion, Consecrate a fast, Call a sacred assembly; 16 Gather the people, Sanctify the congregation, Assemble the elders, Gather the children and nursing babes; Let the bridegroom go out from his chamber, And the bride from her dressing room. 17 Let the priests, who minister to the Lord, Weep between the porch and the altar; Let them say, "Spare Your people, O Lord, And do not give Your heritage to reproach, That the nations should rule over them. Why should they say among the peoples, 'Where is their God?' " 18 Then the Lord will be zealous for His land, And pity His people. 19 The Lord will answer and say to His people, "Behold, I will send you grain and new wine and oil, And you will be satisfied by them; I will no longer make you a reproach among the nations. 20 But I will remove far from you the northern army, And will drive him away into a barren and desolate land, With his face toward the eastern sea And his back toward the western sea; His stench will come up, And his foul odor will rise, Because he has done monstrous things. 21 Fear not, O land; Be glad and rejoice, For the Lord has done marvelous things! 22 Do not be afraid, you beasts of the field; For the open pastures are springing up, And the tree bears its fruit; The fig tree and the vine yield their strength. 23 Be glad then, you children of Zion, And rejoice in the Lord your God; For He has given you the former rain faithfully, And He will cause the rain to come down for you-- The former rain, And the latter rain in the first month. 24 The threshing floors shall be full of wheat, And the vats shall overflow with new wine and oil. 25 So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, The crawling locust, The consuming locust, And the chewing locust, My great army which I sent among you. You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, And praise the name of the Lord your God, Who has dealt wondrously with you; And My people shall never be put to shame. Then you shall know that I am in the midst of Israel: I am the Lord your God And there is no other. My people shall never be put to shame. And it shall come to pass afterward That I will pour out My Spirit on all flesh; Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, Your old men shall dream dreams, Your young men shall see visions. 26 You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, And praise the name of the Lord your God, Who has dealt wondrously with you; And My people shall never be put to shame.

[wisdomrays]

REFLECTIONS ON THE QUR'AN: Suratu'l-Baqarah (The Cow) : Part 23

“God wills ease for you, and He does not will hardship for you.” (Al-Baqarah 2:185)

Basically, there is no compulsion in the religion. Things that are seemingly hard are actually a means of ease. God always prefers ease for His servants in matters involving difficulty and trouble. Shortening the Prayer during travel; the permission for breaking the fast in the evening instead of ordering a fast from dawn to dawn; and the permission for tayammum (dry ablution using sand or dust, which may be performed in place of the ritual ablution or the whole body ablution if no clean water is readily available or there is some serious harm or danger in using water) are only a few examples. Even the mistakes in the devotions are forgiven if they are out of forgetting. For instance, if a person forgets that he or she is fasting and eats or drinks, this is not considered a violation of the fast; rather, it is considered a feast from Allāh. Furthermore, some exemptions are granted for the excused due to an essential or incidental reason, and easiness has always been preferred in the practice of the religion. For this reason, there are many seemingly-hard obligations that are in fact the cornerstone of the eternal happiness. For instance, many acts of worship involve struggling with the carnal soul and requiring patience. But they cause believers to rise to higher levels of the spiritual life, to gain resistance against any hardship, and to acquire a state apt for the afterlife.

In addition, if certain acts of worship cause trouble for those with some impediments or excuses, Divine dispensation or exemption comes to their help, and these acts of worship are either changed with easy substitutes, or they can even be omitted by the excused persons, leaving the spiritual reward to come from them to the good, sincere intention of the excused. For example, material or financial compensations or atonements compensate for the permitted omission of an act of worship, while the exemption from some acts of those who are too old or too weak to perform them or of those who suffer irrecoverable disease is compensated by the sincere intention of believers to perform them.

Difficulty and ease in fulfilling religious commands are directly proportional with one’s spiritual condition, educational level, habitude, and so on. This is so because the religion is all-inclusive, from the beginners to the educated and the pious. That is, it does not matter if the members of the religion of Islam are professors or students or doorkeepers, laborers, or bosses. It perfectly satisfies everyone with every level of understanding intellectually and spiritually. Everybody can feel the happiness and contentment of obedience to God’s commands and prohibitions according to their own spiritual level. However, if one examines the commands and prohibitions of Islam in regard to their essential nature, one understands that so much ease and tolerance are included in those commands and prohibitions.

[joocomics]

Okay, there's this video of jooyeon, right? He's throwing his head back (his adams apple got me weak), completely shaking like seizure wise

(https://twitter.com/ppisacoustic/status/1742174621422743773?t=oaEAQ7_rm01iQWvQWmJ3-w&s=19)

This. But him holding your head while you're on your knees, making you choke on him.

You two discussed about trying rougher stuff before. You're devoted to it, and you thought that jooyeon was also completely devoted to this (even though it took a lot of convincing for him to understand that ur okay with the pain and want this so so bad).

So now, you're on your knees, feeling jooyeons hands on your head pushing you, feeling his length pushing through your throat. You know he's a mess, but he's trying to hide it. Your moans while choking arouse him so much, making his whole body twitch. But he acts like he's in complete control, but you know that he's so close and needs you so bad. He kept trying being tough, because he wanted you to feel good while he's dominating you. But he can't keep that straight face anymore. He tried resisting his hips, tried not to thrust them and finish for so long. You look up to him with eyes that say "how are you". You get a not so clear response from him, as he struggles not to moan and finish already: "b- baby~ ahhh\ I hope youre okay" he moans, and it makes you want to laugh since he's trying so hard "i- I can keep going for so long: he says all of that while his hips start thrusting slowly in your mouth. He sounds so... fragile. And it makes you so drunk. So so drunk. You feel all of your core burning and tingling in response to him, and you automatically start grinding softly, in lain because you have nothing to grind against. All you feel is your pussy crying for jooyeons cock, and his hands pushing your head so deep that your forehead touches his belly nonstop. But he notices your hips movements. He now know how desperate you are. He keeps trying, almost tearing up, feeling his tip turning bright red. Gosh, he needs you so bad.

He tries to concentrate on his hands pushing your head towards him instead of thinking about how bad he wants to fuck your pussy until you come again and again and again. And oh god, he wants you to ride his face. And then his cock. And then again his nose, and. Suddenly, while you're absolutely choking on his cock, tasting his sweet, salty precum, you don't feel his hands on your head anymore.

You look up to him, still sliding your mouth on his length, but more slowly. You see his hands on his neck, he's looking up as if he's saying a prayer. You decide to make it harder for him. Literally. You dig your nails in his thighs, sucking him faster and faster. You can hear little moans he tries to hide, so you're twisting your tongue just like he likes. Your pace is getting faster, and you feel him trembling. You get so wet, you could finish just by knowing he's so desperate for you. After two minutes of pure torture to jooyeon, when he was completely quiet as you tried to get him to moan, scream or just, give up: he picks you up. While he lifts you from your ass, wrapping both of his hands around you, you feel his hard on touching your thigh a bit. It kinda tingles. He looks you in the eyes and just says with playful voice: hey baby. Then he slams you on him, while he's standing. And oh god- you knew he needed you, bit you didn't know he needed you this bad. He is so hard, dripping precum. He slides into you so easy, your wetness and his neediness using as a lube. The moment you felt him in you, you let out a scream mixed with a moan. He doesn't even start slow or soft. "OH you like it? You wanted me to be aggressive didn't you?" He says mockingly. He thrusts so hard to your body, while you're hanging on him. He let's out moans and so do you. He goes fast, each thrust stronger than the other. You can't think straight. You start drooling, feeling your whole body submit to him. He already came in you once or twice, you're not sure- but he keeps going. You came as well, but you just keep hanging on him. You're both sweating so much, your bodies basically colliding. And then- that tingle you kept feeling becomes strong. But stronger than the last times. It's like your clit got a heartbeat. You feel like all the times you were horny thinking about him, added together. You start scratching him trying to hold on in reality. You moan loud, and he pounds you harder. When your moans and desperate breaths get louder, he circulates around your clit a little, taking some wetness, moving to your ass. He feels around the hole, massaging it. Each thrust feels like heaven and hell at the same time. Your moans turn into screams as you shakingly moaning and telling him you're so close. "OH baby? You know, I'm so close as well" he says, going to the wall while ur still on him, now he fucks you against the wall. While ur particularly floating. He thrusts so hard, like he went wild. His thrusts getting slower but stronger, and you start screaming "I'm close please baby please joo come on go on". He stops thrusting into you. He starts letting out soft desperate moans while shaking uncontrollably. His shaking causes your clit to feel so so overstimulated, and you start tearing up, having a orgasm of your own. He keeps shaking so hard, while letting out little cries.

It's just later when you get your right mind back, when you realize how amaizing and crazy that was. You'd def do it again.

-it's 2am help I got carried away, how am I supposed to sleep now

I hope u enjoy idk😭

-💬

i’m just trying to drink my morning coffee in peace why am i ripping my hair off???

this !!! THIS !!!!! OHMYFUVJINFGOD THIS IS ALL I WANT, ALL I NEED!!!!!!!!!!

anonie, i hope you got some sleep i really do but i can bet you didn’t THIS IS SO HOT him trying to contain his emotions while he’s literally receiving the best head of his life 😩 i can just imagine his pretty scrunched up face, the quiet whimpers that occasionally escape from his mouth.. he immediately curses himself and bites on his lips to keep everything else down his throat, but your mouth feels heavenly how can he!!!!! omfg i’m gonna think about this for days 😭😭😭

i could have never asked for a better start to my day tbh tysm 🫶🏼

[dreamdragoness]

I made this a while ago and it's one of the pieces I'm most proud of for Silent Flocks.

--------------------------------------

Jhula ran as fast as she could from Silk Cradle, even in this torrential downpour. Time was running out and she had so much to do. A part of her couldn't believe she was going to do the one thing she swore she would never do. To call upon the only one who can help her now. She needed to reach him! She needed him to save Lambert! There was no other choice. 

"I have to do this! If I don't, there's no guarantee that Lambert will survive!"

In a brief moment, she looked back. The temple where she was raised for the past seventeen years was getting smaller and smaller. It was her home. But not anymore. Blinking away her tears, Jhula kept running.

"I'm sorry, everyone! I'm sorry Shamura! But I can't let you do this! If the bishops won't heed my words..."

She swallowed some bile that her nerves conjured before proceeding with her declaration. 

"...then I have no choice but to beseech HIM!"

Jhula ran until she was certain she was at the edge of Silk Cradle, made evident by the emergence of green grass. The sacrifice was to be held in Leshy's temple in Darkwood. Even as she ran non-stop, Jhula knew she wouldn't be able to reach Lambert in time. And barging in while all four bishops were there was suicidal.

No. This was her only hope. 

Quickly, Jhula found a spot bare of stone and plants and began her work. First, she made a circle of blood using the large flask she stole from the ritual chamber. Once a perfect circle was made, she continued to pour until the pentagram she saw in the book was complete. The goat ignored the dread and guilt that threatened her stomach and stepped into the circle. From her bag, she pulled out the knife and looked at her reflection. This was it. The point of no return.

Taking in a deep breath, Jhula got to her knees and began the Dark Prayer "With my blood and my devotion, I call upon the Fifth! Master of the Great Beyond, Lord of Souls, and Guardian of the Dead!

"I, Jhula of Silk Cradle, former Archivist of Shamura, spill my blood as a sacrificial beast,

"And call on your true name so that you may hear my prayer!"

With the dagger, Jhula slit her palm, allowing a stream of blood to trickle down and onto the glowing circle.

"BEARER OF THE RED CROWN AND THE GOD OF DEATH: NARINDER!"

As soon as she called the name, Jhula felt a sinister power flow through her. It coiled around her like a serpent, ready to constrict her. As soon as it filled her, Jhula's eyes glowed red against the darkness and warmed her from the cold rain.

"I beseech thee, Crimson Lord! As I pray to you, the last lamb in the world and one dear to me, Lambert, is being led to the headsman's axe in an attempt by the Bishops of the Old Faith to thwart your return! I willingly grant you my body, my blood, my very soul if you could save him! Save the last lamb! I beg of you, the One Who Waits! Please hear me and save Lambert!"

A deep chuckle rumbled through Jhula's mind as she struggled to keep herself steady. The power of the One Below was overwhelming, yet familiar. She knew this feeling from her first death. But Jhula dared not to ask questions other than what she was asking of the dark god. She could sense Him observing her as she conducted the dark rite in his name. No doubt analyzing her to see if her prayer was worthy. The fact that she heard Him filled her spine with ice. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the power faded and Jhula collapsed. But before she passed out, Jhula heard the voice one last time.

"Very well, my newest follower. I shall answer your prayer."

---------------------------------------------

I created this piece after I had asked a question in my head.

"If the prophecy called for a lamb to be Narinder's vessel, why didn't he pick ones that were freshly dead at the beginning? Why did he wait until there was one lamb left before he laid out his offer?" I came up with an idea for Silent Flocks. The reason Narinder never approached the other lambs was because he wasn't made aware. Therefore, a willing soul must perform an ancient rite, the Dark Prayer, to reach him. In ancient times, this rite was used by High Priests and High Priestesses to contact a specific bishop depending on how the incantation was said while standing in a pentagram made of blood. To establish full contact, a small amount of blood from a sacrificial-class beast (lambs, goats, etc.) must be spilt inside. Of course, the bishops were aware of this and erased the Dark Prayer from all but their most restricted books and erased Narinder's name as an added measure. It's a plot point in the fic on how Jhula acquires Narinder's name, as names hold power in various myths, is something that will be revealed in the fic.

-----------

Silent Hill: Konami Cult of the Lamb: Massive Monster Jhula and the Dark Prayer: Me

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Whumptober Day 7: Restrained and Forced Feeding

Prime au. Tommy tries to starve himself in a fit of hopelessness after Dream kidnaps him, believing him to be a Prime in Earthly form- but Dream will not let the target of his worship fade so easily. Warnings for kidnapping, imprisonment, abuse, eating disorders, forced feeding, restraints, drugging, HEAVY religious themes, religious guilt, religious delusions, attempted suicide, self-harm, and self-loathing

ao3 link

—— Tommy was a little unnerved at how easily he’d grown used to hunger pangs.

Eating started feeling wrong sometime in Exile. He felt he didn’t deserve food, and even though he denied it at the time, the little bit of control throwing out most of the meagre rations he was given and vomiting up the rest was intoxicating, addicting even, when he had no other autonomy in his life. Even after, it was hard not to feel shame when he binged, so he went through periods of eating until he was sick, then eating a few snacks in a whole week and usually puking those out anyway because of the guilt.

It wasn’t like he hated his body or anything. Well, he did, but not because he thought he weighed too much or whatever. He didn’t even throw up on purpose; it wasn’t like he was trying to do anything stupid, he just felt so unwell and guilty whenever he could taste something nice on his lips, and it came out of him onto the floor. He wasn’t even sure what that was called. Being a pussy, he guessed.

Now, though, he wasn’t avoiding food just because it made him sick. No, it was the only way he had to die.

The IV drip in his arm provided something to stop dehydration- he’d tried there- along with the weird fuzzy, warm, sleepy feeling it forced him into, making him sleep most of the day and struggle to think very fast. His arms and legs were kept bound by velvet-lined shackles, made out of something lightweight and weirdly comfortable but with just enough slack to be able to eat or do something like knit but certainly not to try and escape, or even try and find something to shove through his throat until he stopped breathing.

Starvation was a painful, slow way to die, but it was a way to die. And dying would be better than participating in this blasphemous show any longer.

The robes Tommy was dressed in were the sacred purple, holy symbols embroidered on that no man should wear, like a twisted heretical display. Bells were hung up on every inch of free space in the room, ringing in prayer to Primes that would not be in such an unholy place. Some were even tied to Tommy’s chains and braided in his hair, making the slightest movement a twisted, arrogant prayer to himself. Every part of the room was carved of marble and oak, from the oversized bed to the ornate throne Tommy spent most of the day chained to, like a mocking parody of a King or a God.

It was disgusting. A nightmarish display of sin, a heretics toybox, and one Tommy had been made an unwilling participant in. The mockery of the Primes he was trapped in was worse than any other fate he could imagine- Limbo, Exile, eternal fucking torture. At least that didn’t spit in the face of the Primes and the Gods that Tommy had devoted his life to, took such solace in.

If he pretended the hunger pangs were his repentance for being forced to sin so, they were almost pleasant. Almost forgiveness.

He’d almost fallen asleep, exhausted from whatever sedative was being pumped through him and the physical stress of not eating for… Prime, he didn’t even know the time anymore. Sleep was one of Tommy's few escapes from his heretical prison, so he welcomed it whenever it overtook him. Unfortunately, the opening of the heavy iron door, threatening the worst hours of the day, woke him up with a start, dread pooling in his stomach.

Dream refused to look him in the eyes as he entered, head bowed in sinful reverence. Like this was a church, not a torture chamber. Under his breath, he whispered prayers for forgiveness, shifting between English and what Tommy recognised from talking to Ranboo as Ender erratically.

There were more scars on his skin, more bloodied bandages. Tommy frowned, seeing that. Dream insisted on “punishing” himself whenever he displeased Tommy, which was often considering the blasphemous hell he’d forced him into, his insistence that he was somehow a Prime and not a humble man. And, yeah, Dream might be a torturer and a heretic, but Tommy knew how it felt to tear lines in your skin. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, even Dream.

“My Prime.” Tommy jumped out of his skin as Dream directly acknowledged him- or rather, what he thought him to be. “Why have you not been eating? Has what I’ve made been unfit?”

“I’m not hungry,” Tommy mumbled.

“I see. You’re not used to eating with your physical form.” Dream said that like it made sense and wasn’t the most absolutely insane bullshit imaginable. “I know you’ve forgotten you used to be a Prime, but this is proof you must be, see? There’s no need to be humble.”

Tommy just slumped further into his seat in defeat.

“I brought your favourites, if that helps,” Dream continued. Of course, he knew Tommy’s favourite food because he was a creepy ass stalker even before he got this weird idea into his head about Tommy being a lost Prime or whatever. “As many golden apples as you’d like.”

“I’m not hungry.” Tommy repeated, slightly louder this time.

“You’ll die if you don’t eat,” Dream said softly, like he was explaining the concept of being a living fucking being to a toddler. “And I don’t want you to be further tainted by that. I- I committed a grave sin, forcing a vessel for the Gods to experience the pain and mortality of death once. I can’t let that happen again.”

“I’m not eating anything you give me,” Tommy said, with an air of finality to it, and Dream sighed.

“Then you leave me no choice. I hate to have to do this, but…”

He trailed off, adjusting the slack of Tommy’s shackles to keep him completely immobilised. Tommy didn’t have the energy to struggle, and he mentally cursed whatever fucking potion he had hooked to him, keeping him tired and compliant. He wanted nothing more than to fight, to shout and scream and kick, but he barely had the energy to keep his eyes open. Dream said it was better than “despoiling the holiness of a pure being” or whatever, but not only was Tommy not holy in the fucking slightest, he’d have felt much less despoiled or whatever if Dream just beat him up like he used to. At least then he could be a prick about it.

With shaking hands, Dream shoved a piece of crushed golden apple into Tommy’s mouth, giving him a guilty look. Tommy spat it directly onto his stupid face, glaring. “What the fuck, man?”

“I can’t just let you starve. Tommy…” He sighed. “Please, I don’t want to have to force you.”

Tommy stuck out his tongue in defiance. Fuck no, he wasn’t going to participate in this blasphemous display. He couldn’t stop Dream’s hours of prayer, his nonsensical preaching, the lavish “gifts” he’d give, but he could refuse to eat. Maybe the Primes would shine upon him again if they saw his attempts to remain devoted.

Immediately, he regretted it, as another tiny slice of golden apple was shoved into his throat, a hand covering both his mouth and nose, forcing him to swallow the food to be allowed breath again. His weak, human, ungodly body fought for it even though Tommy wished he could just let himself suffocate. It was painful, but not just that- it was utterly humiliating. He could feel his ears heating up as he ate what must have been a whole golden apple, slice by agonising slice, tears pricking at his eyes. Thank the fucking Primes- the actual Primes- that Dream refused to look at his face. He’d hate the idea of Dream seeing him crying over petty shit.

He took deep breaths when, after agonising minutes, he had finished. The food sat horribly in his stomach, and he felt queasy and lightheaded. Worse, he felt, for the first time in his life, faithless. There was nothing to be done, no resistance, no defiance. The Primes had abandoned him, the Gods must surely be mocking him. The rest of his life- the rest of eternity, even- would be spent forced into a heretical mask, and he would never rid himself of the sin sticking to him.

He couldn’t even die to repent.

Wilbur had read Tommy a story once from an old book about a strange God, where there was a tree and an apple and the first humans. The apple had contained knowledge- on what, Tommy wasn’t sure- and upon eating it, the humans had discovered sin and therefore became sinful. He’d found it fucking stupid at the time- how could an apple give knowledge, and how would it be the humans' fault? But it made sense now. He could feel the sin of his own forbidden fruit, forced down his throat, sitting painfully in his chest, a knowledge he wished to erase forever trapped in his head. Damnation would have been a mercy.

And when Tommy looked at Dream, anger replaced with broken exhaustion, the determination hunger pangs brought him replaced with mental agony, all he could see was a snake.

[hekateinhell]

Louis going for Lestat because he looks like his brother and going for Armand because he reminds him, in spirit, of his brother (religious, belief's that would often be called a fanatic type of devotion to god, armand's struggle to get his dad to let him be a monk/paul's struggle to get louis to understand his prayers).

anon I wasn't prepared for this. also you're fast

it's interesting because louis wouldn't have known this the first time around, armand never shared that during their first century together.

What did I have to tell this sweet-faced vampire, Louis, this all too human creation of the stronger and brasher Lestat, except that in the world Louis would find enough beauty to sustain him, and that in his soul he must find the courage to exist, if indeed it was his choice to go on living, without looking to images of God or the Devil to give him an artificial or short-lived peace. I never imparted to Louis my own bitter history [...]. ~ Armand, TVA

BUT the second time around, he would've.

I was just trying to say we don't talk enough about louis's psychosexual issues

[orthodoxadventure]

Venerable Macarius the Great of Egypt

Commemorated on January 19

You were shown to be a citizen of the desert, an angel in the body, and a wonderworker, O Makarios our God-bearing Father; receiving heavenly gifts through fasting, vigil, and prayer, healing the infirmities and the souls of those who come to you with faith. Glory to Him Who strengthened you. Glory to Him Who crowned you. Glory to Him Who, through you, grants healing to all.

Saint Macarius the Great of Egypt was born in the early fourth century in the village of Ptinapor in Egypt. At the wish of his parents he entered into marriage, but was soon widowed. After he buried his wife, Macarius told himself, “Take heed, Macarius, and have care for your soul. It is fitting that you forsake worldly life.”

The Lord rewarded the saint with a long life, but from that time the memory of death was constantly with him, impelling him to ascetic deeds of prayer and penitence. He began to visit the church of God more frequently and to be more deeply absorbed in Holy Scripture, but he did not leave his aged parents, thus fulfilling the commandment to honor one’s parents.

Until his parents died, Saint Macarius used his remaining substance to help them and he began to pray fervently that the Lord might show him a guide on the way to salvation. The Lord sent him an experienced Elder, who lived in the desert not far from the village. The Elder accepted the youth with love, guided him in the spiritual science of watchfulness, fasting and prayer, and taught him the handicraft of weaving baskets. After building a separate cell not far from his own, the Elder settled his disciple in it.

The local bishop arrived one day at Ptinapor and, knowing of the saint’s virtuous life, ordained him to the diaconate against his will. Saint Macarius was overwhelmed by this disturbance of his silence, and so he went secretly to another place. The Enemy of our salvation began a tenacious struggle with the ascetic, trying to terrify him, shaking his cell and suggesting sinful thoughts. Saint Macarius repelled the attacks of the devil, defending himself with prayer and the Sign of the Cross.

Evil people slandered the saint, accusing him of seducing a woman from a nearby village. They dragged him out of his cell and jeered at him. Saint Macarius endured the temptation with great humility. Without a murmur, he sent the money that he got for his baskets for the support of the pregnant woman.

The innocence of Saint Macarius was manifested when the woman, who suffered torment for many days, was not able to give birth. She confessed that she had slandered the hermit, and revealed the name of the real father. When her parents found out the truth, they were astonished and intended to go to the saint to ask forgiveness. Though Saint Macarius willingly accepted dishonor, he shunned the praise of men. He fled from that place by night and settled on Mt. Nitria in the Pharan desert.

Thus human wickedness contributed to the prospering of the righteous. Having dwelt in the desert for three years, he went to Saint Anthony the Great, the Father of Egyptian monasticism, for he had heard that he was still alive in the world, and he longed to see him. Abba Anthony received him with love, and Macarius became his devoted disciple and follower. Saint Macarius lived with him for a long time and then, on the advice of the saintly abba, he went off to the Skete monastery (in the northwest part of Egypt). He so shone forth in asceticism that he came to be called “a young Elder,” because he had distinguished himself as an experienced and mature monk, even though he was not quite thirty years old.

Saint Macarius survived many demonic attacks against him. Once, he was carrying palm branches for weaving baskets, and a devil met him on the way and wanted to strike him with a sickle, but he was not able to do this. He said, “Macarius, I suffer great anguish from you because I am unable to vanquish you. I do everything that you do. You fast, and I eat nothing at all. You keep vigil, and I never sleep. You surpass me only in one thing: humility.”

When the saint reached the age of forty, he was ordained to the priesthood and made the head of the monks living in the desert of Skete. During these years, Saint Macarius often visited with Saint Anthony the Great, receiving guidance from him in spiritual conversations. Abba Macarius was deemed worthy to be present at the death of Saint Anthony and he received his staff. He also received a double portion of the Anthony’s spiritual power, just as the prophet Elisha once received a double portion of the grace of the prophet Elias, along with the mantle that he dropped from the fiery chariot.

Saint Macarius worked many healings. People thronged to him from various places for help and for advice, asking his holy prayers. All this unsettled the quietude of the saint. He therefore dug out a deep cave under his cell, and hid there for prayer and meditation.

Saint Macarius attained such boldness before God that, through his prayers, the Lord raised the dead. Despite attaining such heights of holiness, he continued to preserve his unusual humility. One time the holy abba caught a thief loadng his things on a donkey standing near the cell. Without revealing that he was the owner of these things, the monk began to help tie up the load. Having removed himself from the world, the monk told himself, “We bring nothing at all into this world; clearly, it is not possible to take anything out from it. Blessed be the Lord for all things!”

Once, Saint Macarius was walking and saw a skull lying upon the ground. He asked, “Who are you?” The skull answered, “I was a chief priest of the pagans. When you, Abba, pray for those in hell, we receive some mitigation.”

The monk asked, “What are these torments?” “We are sitting in a great fire,” replied the skull, “and we do not see one another. When you pray, we begin to see each other somewhat, and this affords us some comfort.” Having heard such words, the saint began to weep and asked, “Are there still more fiercesome torments?” The skull answered, “Down below us are those who knew the Name of God, but spurned Him and did not keep His commandments. They endure even more grievous torments.”

Once, while he was praying, Saint Macarius heard a voice: “Macarius, you have not yet attained such perfection in virtue as two women who live in the city.” The humble ascetic went to the city, found the house where the women lived, and knocked. The women received him with joy, and he said, “I have come from the desert seeking you in order to learn of your good deeds. Tell me about them, and conceal nothing.”

The women answered with surprise, “We live with our husbands, and we have not such virtues.” But the saint continued to insist, and the women then told him, “We married two brothers. After living together in one house for fifteen years, we have not uttered a single malicious nor shameful word, and we never quarrel among ourselves. We asked our husbands to allow us to enter a women’s monastery, but they would not agree. We vowed not to utter a single worldly word until our death.”

Saint Macarius glorified God and said, “In truth, the Lord seeks neither virgins nor married women, and neither monks nor laymen, but values a person’s free intent, accepting it as the deed itself. He grants to everyone’s free will the grace of the Holy Spirit, which operates in an individual and directs the life of all who yearn to be saved.”

During the years of the reign of the Arian emperor Valens (364-378), Saint Macarius the Great and Saint Macarius of Alexandria were subjected to persecution by the followers of the Arian bishop Lucius. They seized both Elders and put them on a ship, sending them to an island where only pagans lived. By the prayers of the saints, the daughter of a pagan priest was delivered from an evil spirit. After this, the pagan priest and all the inhabitants of the island were baptized. When he heard what had happened, the Arian bishop feared an uprising and permitted the Elders to return to their monasteries.

The meekness and humility of the monk transformed human souls. “A harmful word,” said Abba Macarius, “makes good things bad, but a good word makes bad things good.” When the monks asked him how to pray properly, he answered, “Prayer does not require many words. It is needful to say only, “Lord, as Thou wilt and as Thou knowest, have mercy on me.” If an enemy should fall upon you, you need only say, “Lord, have mercy!” The Lord knows that which is useful for us, and grants us mercy.”

When the brethren asked how a monk ought to comport himself, the saint replied, “Forgive me, I am not yet a monk, but I have seen monks. I asked them what I must do to be a monk. They answered, ‘If a man does not withdraw himself from everything which is in the world, it is not possible to be a monk.’ Then I said, ‘I am weak and cannot be as you are.’ The monks responded, ‘If you cannot renounce the world as we have, then go to your cell and weep for your sins.’”

Saint Macarius gave advice to a young man who wished to become a monk: “Flee from people and you shall be saved.” That one asked: “What does it mean to flee from people?” The monk answered: “Sit in your cell and repent of your sins.”

Saint Macarius sent him to a cemetery to rebuke and then to praise the dead. Then he asked him what they said to him. The young man replied, “They were silent to both praise and reproach.” “If you wish to be saved, be as one dead. Do not become angry when insulted, nor puffed up when praised.” And further: “If slander is like praise for you, poverty like riches, insufficiency like abundance, then you shall not perish.”

The prayer of Saint Macarius saved many in perilous circumstances of life, and preserved them from harm and temptation. His benevolence was so great that they said of him: “Just as God sees the whole world, but does not chastize sinners, so also does Abba Macarius cover his neighbor’s weaknesses, which he seemed to see without seeing, and heard without hearing.”

The monk lived until the age of ninety. Shortly before his death, Saints Anthony and Pachomius appeared to him, bringing the joyful message of his departure to eternal life in nine days. After instructing his disciples to preserve the monastic Rule and the traditions of the Fathers, he blessed them and began to prepare for death. Saint Macarius departed to the Lord saying, “Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.”

Abba Macarius spent sixty years in the wilderness, being dead to the world. He spent most of his time in conversation with God, often in a state of spiritual rapture. But he never ceased to weep, to repent and to work. The saint’s profound theological writings are based on his own personal experience. Fifty Spiritual Homilies and seven Ascetic Treatises survive as the precious legacy of his spiritual wisdom. Several prayers composed by Saint Macarius the Great are still used by the Church in the Prayers Before Sleep and also in the Morning Prayers.

Man’s highest goal and purpose, the union of the soul with God, is a primary principle in the works of Saint Macarius. Describing the methods for attaining mystical communion, the saint relies upon the experience of the great teachers of Egyptian monasticism and on his own experience. The way to God and the experience of the holy ascetics of union with God is revealed to each believer’s heart.

Earthly life, according to Saint Macarius, has only a relative significance: to prepare the soul, to make it capable of perceiving the heavenly Kingdom, and to establish in the soul an affinity with the heavenly homeland.

“For those truly believing in Christ, it is necessary to change and transform the soul from its present degraded nature into another, divine nature, and to be fashioned anew by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

This is possible, if we truly believe and we truly love God and have observed all His holy commandments. If one betrothed to Christ at Baptism does not seek and receive the divine light of the Holy Spirit in the present life, “then when he departs from the body, he is separated into the regions of darkness on the left side. He does not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, but has his end in hell with the devil and his angels” (Homily 30:6).

In the teaching of Saint Macarius, the inner action of the Christian determines the extent of his perception of divine truth and love. Each of us acquires salvation through grace and the divine gift of the Holy Spirit, but to attain a perfect measure of virtue, which is necessary for the soul’s assimilation of this divine gift, is possible only “by faith and by love with the strengthening of free will.” Thus, the Christian inherits eternal life “as much by grace, as by truth.”

Salvation is a divine-human action, and we attain complete spiritual success “not only by divine power and grace, but also by the accomplishing of the proper labors.” On the other hand, it is not just within “the measure of freedom and purity” that we arrive at the proper solicitude, it is not without “the cooperation of the hand of God above.” The participation of man determines the actual condition of his soul, thus inclining him to good or evil. “If a soul still in the world does not possess in itself the sanctity of the Spirit for great faith and for prayer, and does not strive for the oneness of divine communion, then it is unfit for the heavenly kingdom.”

The miracles and visions of Blessed Macarius are recorded in a book by the presbyter Rufinus, and his Life was compiled by Saint Serapion, bishop of Tmuntis (Lower Egypt), one of the renowned workers of the Church in the fourth century. His holy relics are in the city of Amalfi, Italy.

Truly, the Lord has appointed you as an abode of abstinence, and as an unerring star, enlightening the ends of the earth, O Venerable Makarios, the Father of Fathers.

[Text from OCA]

[booitsthaclosetpagan]

Kala Thargelia! 🦌☀️

On the 6th and 7th day of the month Thargelion in hellenic polytheism we celebrate Thargelia, the main festival that the month is named after. This is how I celebrated this year (2nd year of the 700th olympiad):

On the first day I honored Artemis by:

Undergoing catharsis (spiritual cleansing of oneself, ones surroundings, body and mind). I took a shower, washed up, wore symbolic clothing and jewelry, veiled and abstained from sexual activity (and thoughts for the most part). I also fasted for about 24 hours, not consuming anything in order to detox my body.

I then poured a wine libation in honor of Artemis and recited homeric hymn #9 & #27 and Orphic hymn #35.

I also recited Orphic Hymn #34 in honor of Leto since Thargelia celebrates Leto giving birth to the twin goddess Artemis and god Apollo.

I also listened to devotional music in honor of Artemis.

After I finished the prayer I quickly realized that I forgot to cast out the scapegoats or Pharmakoi. So I wrote down two things that I wanted to leave my life namely negative nagging & struggling to communicate and form friendships within the physical religious community. I ripped these papers and threw them away to banish these things.

Then I watched a video about the mythos behind the birth of Artemis & Apollo and another mythos of Artemis (about her virginity and staying pure, fitting to the theme of Thargelia of course which is all about cleanliness and not having impure things). And looked at some social media posts of others about Thargelia.

Before going to bed I did my night prayer like every night, but payed some extra attention in that prayer to Leto, Artemis & Apollo in particular.

On the second day I honored Apollo by:

Undergoing catharsis again by washing up and putting on a sunny outfit to honor him, it was also really sunny during Thargelia this year so that was a good sign and nice to feel extra close to Apollo.

I then went to the grocery store to get all the ingredients for the dinner and offering and started cooking Panspermia and Manna, which turned out looking really nice and tasty this year! So I was really happy with that. I also bought a strawberry cake since it's traditional to offer the first fruits of the season to Apollo, which in my region are strawberries, and since strawberries are also associated with Apollo.

I put part of the Panspermia, Manna and cake, including an actual strawberry, in an offer bowl and placed it, along with the red wine libation, in front of Apollo's picture on my desk.

Then I veiled and recited Homeric hymn #3, #21 & #25 and Orphic hymn #33 in honor of Apollo.

I also recited Orphic Hymn #34 to Leto once again, like the previous day.

In honor of Apollo I also listened to a devotional song.

Then I broke my second fast which lasted for about 17 or 18 hours by eating the Panspermia, Manna and drinking the red wine.

Before going to bed I did my nightly prayer, again paying some special attention to thank Leto, Artemis and Apollo.

I honestly wanted to do more and spend even more time on Thargelia, cleaning the house among things, but due to busy work and such I didn't get around with doing so. I also intended to fast for 1,5 day but when I got a little headache at 2 AM I decided the time had come to eat something small in between, but after that I fasted again. I still enjoyed Thargelia, mainly because my cooking turned out so beautifully and I felt proud and by focusing so much on what Thargelia, Leto, Artemis and Apollo stand for, and tried my best to focus on cleansing myself physically and spiritually.

Kala Thargelia to all of you who celebrated!

[bylagunabay]

Power of the ROSARY

WE HAVE SEEN SO MANY INCREDIBLE THINGS HAPPEN BECAUSE OF PEOPLE’S DEVOTION TO THE ROSARY …

(2-min read)

“We have seen so many incredible things happen because of people’s devotion to the Rosary,” said Sam Perry. “That’s why we do everything we can to help people understand and use it.”

For Sam Perry, it goes back to when he was bedridden for four months with rheumatic fever at the age of 9. It was a hard time for his family, as his sister also was struggling with polio.

“We were poor. My Grandma lived with us and taught us to pray the Rosary every day. Her faithfulness brought strength to our family. Soon my fever went away and so did my sister’s polio… all because of the family Rosary.”

He shared a few stories about the protection he’s received from his devotion to the Rosary.

When in his early 20s, Sam was at the Berlin Wall. Somehow he and three friends did the impossible — they smuggled a young man out of Communist East Berlin.

“There was a lot of anxiety as we planned his escape,” said Sam. “My friends knew about my devotion to the Rosary, so they sent me to Church to pray until I felt the time was right and we could make our move. God was with us. The man we freed eventually became a doctor!”

Soon after, Sam was taken ill with hepatitis and yellow jaundice. Hospitalized in critical condition for 2 1/2 weeks with an enlarged liver and a weight loss of 40 pounds, he was healed through the Rosary.

He credits the Rosary with narrow escapes from three serious auto accidents over a 30-year period. One was with a teenage friend whose car rolled over on an Estes Park road and demolished a cab. Another was with his wife Becky on an isolated tribal reservation highway when a donkey came out of nowhere, charged into and totaled their car. The third auto accident required an hour to free him from a pinned car.

There were no serious injuries or fatalities in any of the accidents, each time to the absolute amazement of police and doctors. Sam always held fast to his Rosary and knows he was protected through its prayers.

He and Becky credit her conversion to Catholicism to the intercession of Our Lady.

- Sam Perry (thecatholicfoundation)

[hieromonkcharbel]

The venerable and God-bearing Father Symeon the Stylite or Simeon, also called "the Great" (c. 390-459) was a monk living in Syria. Stylite means one who lives on a pillar (style in Greek).

Symeon was born to a shepherd's family in the Cappadocian village of Sisan in Syria. When he was a youth, he was deeply moved after hearing the Beatitudes, and decided to join a monastery. His desire for fasting and asceticism grew quickly.

The abbot asked him to withdraw from the monastery due to his strict asceticism, fearing that the other brothers would imitate the extreme fasts. Symeon withdrew to live in an empty well in the nearby mountains. The monks searched for him and asked Symeon to return to the monastery, but he soon left again to continue his asceticism.

Crowds came to him to receive healing and to learn more about the Christian faith, but to avoid them, Symeon went up to a pillar and began to live there in a little cell, still devoted to prayer and fasting. He sat or stood in prayer for many weeks at a time, but he was hardly cut off from the world.

He wrote letters and even received visitors via a ladder. Many threatened and ridiculed him, but far more were inspired by his constant fasting and prayer. Those who were attentive to his teachings include the Emperor Theodosius II of Rome and his wife, Empress Aelia Eudocia, as well as the Righteous Genevieve of Paris. His letter to the Emperor Leo of Constantinople in favor of the Council of Chalcedon was highly respected. Many people came to listen to him and even to be baptized:

"Theodoret says that he became so famous in Rome that the Nomadic Arabs by the thousands believed in Christ and were baptized because of him; the King of Persia sent envoys to inquire into his way of life, and the Queen asked to be sent oil that he had blessed. He also was a great defender of sound doctrine, and confirmed the Orthodoxy of the Holy Council of Chalcedon for many who had been beguiled by the teachings of the Monophysites, including the Empress Eudocia, widow of Theodosius the Younger. After a life of unheard-of achievements and struggles, he reposed in peace at the age of sixty-nine, in the year 459."

His body was taken down three days after his death, and his relics were sent to Antioch.