#bible study cards

[vwv7]

***New*** IN MY PRINT SHOP: Pink Bible Scripture Journal Index Cards. I designed these to be pretty but simple with the typerwriter font. They can be used in your junk journal or they can be used to memorize scriptures. They are good for grandmas because the print is big. CHECK THEM OUT. Don't forget, after purchase it is a downloadable file that you print. The great thing about this is you print and they are ready for your use. Coming soon a more masculine set of scripture cards for the guys.

[that-one-girls-blog-posts]

In my opinion you can totally do tarot readings for yourself in a religious way if that's what you wish to do! Others reading for you, yes that might be tricky when they have a different beliefsystem and practices that might not agree with you personally but when reading for yourself you don't have to consult other spirits, ask for your God(-s) and only him (/them).

So many religions have pictures and all these meaningful visuals and the tarot is such a great medium for the divine to speak to you more clearly through such.

I think the main reason people are against it is a misunderstanding of divination, thinking of it as looking into the future and prophesying things you're not supposed to know or be aware of but in my experience things will simply not be revealed if they're not supposed to. Most of the time it's just analyzing situations and getting guidance on emotions, thoughts and overall your inner world, it's very psychological.

Little things I like to do are lighting those candles with religious images, praying over my cards and making sure I'm wearing jewelry with symbols important to me, these are also great ways to protect yourself (from outside influence).

[cyberdragoninfinity]

god the Three Pure Nobles/Three Emperors of Iliaster are so fucking funny. what if you were on your deathbed and you begged your best friend/old man boyfriend/the other last living person on earth to make robotic gijinkas of the three most horrible traumatic events of your life and use them as purveyors of his will and so your friend was like “well, shit. ok???” and then he makes them and all three of them FUCKING HATE EACH OTHER but your friend is still like “i need you guys to help perform the grave and necessary actions to help prevent a completely fucked sideways apocalyptic future for me” even though one of the Trauma Gijinkas is like 12 and another one is like 19, both notoriously fantastic (/s) ages for handling any sort of important high stakes responsibility.

so there’s just these three photocopies of Some Dying Old Man in the Future’s Absolute Worst Moments of Being Alive running around and one of them is roller skating around everywhere and one of them A.) has a sword and B.) is part motorcycle and one of them is an old old old man who’s also like 10 feet tall and built like a brick shithouse and also none of them seem to fully know they’re all 1/3 of a guy until your aforementioned bestie turned that .exe back on for them.

and THEN on top of EVERYTHING ELSE they can steven universe fuse back into a copy of YOUR ancient-future dead old man ass so now you get to live again in a mechanized form but also you’re built like a giant jacked monster-angel-werelion and this is NEVER elaborated on in the text proper. your best friend you begged to kickstart this whole thing kills you, also.

[screaming-gelatin]

Today’s Tarot Bible Study:

Card- Two of Cups

Main focus- Tenacity in Faith

Main takeaway- God has not given up on you, so neither should you!

Scriptures-

Psalm 8:4- “What are mere mortals that You should think about them, human beings that You should care about them?”

Luke 17:5- “Show us how to increase our faith.”

Hebrews 10:35-36- “For you have need of steadfast patience and endurance, so that you may perform and fully receive and carry away what is promised.”

Colossians 2:9-10- “…in Christ I have been brought to fullness…”

[midwest-cryptid]

#keys #phone #airpods #a nic free vape #d&d wallet containing various cards and a multitool card #

im so curious abt what ppl carry around on the daily.....rb & tag what's in ur pockets/bag?

[totustuusmariaesblog]

(my photo) I love this vintage prayer card i got from an antique fair ♡

[bi-writes]

can we have like a pov of like what MOB would do if something did happen to simon..? luv you!

mail-order bride

your tea is cold when you pick it up to drink it. it burns you, how cold it is, and you cough a little as you set it down, grimacing as you wipe your lips.

maybe it's just one of those days. the rain is hitting a little too hard against the window. the cats have been restless. the dark one shredded your yoga mat by clawing at it under a doorway, and the orange tabby managed to knock over all of simon's plants from the windowsill (which you frantically put back inside their little pots--would plant murder be his last straw?). you left a red shirt in when you washed the whites (you apologized to all of simon's white tees), and when you noticed holes in your favorite sweats in a pattern that matched a cat's claws, you called it a day and decided to make tea (another fail).

you rub your pounding head, taking a deep breath, but you aren't given long to count down from five when your phone begins to ring.

you pick it up, not recognizing the number, but you put it to your ear as you get up to boil more water.

"hello?"

a throat clears on the other end. "do i have mrs. riley 'ere?"

you frown, leaning your hip against the kitchen counter as you turn a burner on and put the kettle over it.

"uhm...yeah. this is she," you say finally. you look at the clock; it's late, much too late. "who is this?"

"this is john. ah...captain john price, ma'am."

you clench your jaw, closing your eyes. "um...i'm sorry, i...what can i do for you? simon's not--"

"we had to call for medevac," john says lowly. "ahh...should be headin' into surgery soon. i--"

"wait--what?" you cough a little, shutting the stove off, and you're scrambling as you make your way to the bedroom. he's talking again, you realize, but you can't hear what he's saying. your eyes are moving around the room, and you frantically start to pull drawers open, grabbing a sweater, jeans, actual clothes to put on. you shed your pajamas, hopping as you slide your jeans on, and he's still talking, but you still hear nothing.

you run into the dresser, the furniture rattling, and you let the phone go, realizing you can't see because there's tears blurring your vision. you wipe them away, looking around for your purse, and when you realize what this is, an emergency--right?--you head for the bookcase in simon's study.

you toss a few books down onto the floor, your hands shaking as your fingers curl around the spine of a leather bible. you set the book down on simon's desk, flipping through the pages before you find your prized paper nestled between the pages of the book of john.

you head back to the bedroom, picking up the phone again, and you shakily dial the number that's on the back of the card. you take a seat on the bed (because where would you go anyways?), and you close your eyes as you wait for someone to pick up.

it rings for too long. you gasp a little, clutching the phone tight, and you beg for someone to pick up, please, please, please--

"'ello?"

"johnny--" you hiccup, standing up. "johnny, he...he told me--"

"wha--who--" on the other end, johnny shouts at someone to get a move on, "--bleedin' christ, who is this?"

"it's me," you whisper. "i'm...simon's--"

"ach...fuckin' hell..." there's a long, deep sigh on the other end. "oi, lass, listen, he's alright--"

"he's...b-but someone said surgery."

"right, i..." he sighs again, and you hear a door shut on the other end. "ye sit tight, luv. i'll come get ye, okay?"

you sniffle, wiping your face, "just tell me he's gonna be okay. tell me i'm worrying for nothing."

johnny chuckles a bit, and the sound soothes you just enough. "gonna be alright. lad's fuckin' dramatic, i'll tell ye tha', big brick fuckin' stepped in front of--"

"okay, johnny, please don't tell me how simon almost killed himself and get your ass over here, okay?" you snap, and johnny halts his laughing.

"right, yeah, forgive me." you hear the rattle of keys. "'m coming."

"mrs. riley?"

your head lifts up. you blink the sleep out of your eyes, rubbing them gently, and there's a petite woman in scrubs smiling at you with her mask hanging around her neck. you have two sergeants at either side of you, captain price settled leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. you have a blanket around your shoulders, and when you slip it off, johnny takes it from you gently.

"you can see him now."

you get to your feet, and when you pass simon's captain, he tips his hat at you respectfully. you hurry and follow the doctor down the hall, and when you see simon's name scribbled on a makeshift sigh on the wall, you eagerly pick up the pace until the door is opened for you.

he looks peaceful laying there. the monitors beep quietly around him, little wires and tubes falling around him, and you let out a breath when you see him blink those dark eyes awake blearily.

"tha' an angel?"

you start to cry. "you're such an asshole."

you come close to the side of the bed, taking his outstretched hand, and you clutch his big hand to your chest. you curl his hand into a fist, pressing your face against the back of his hand, kissing his knuckles there gently. he uncurls his fingers and wipes at your tears gently, shaking his head.

"gave ya a right scare, didn't i?"

"yes, you dickhead," you sniffle, and simon chuckles lowly, wincing a little as he clutches his lower stomach. you use your foot to bring the chair behind you closer, taking a seat in it as you look up at him. he turns his head to face you, giving you a pained smile, and you let out the breath you've been holding since johnny came to get you. "what's the matter with you, simon?"

"shit happens."

you try not to roll your eyes, but the anger is not lost on simon. he squeezes your hand gently, his eyes flicking up to the clock, and he grimaces when he realizes it's nearly six in the morning. you must have been here all night, waiting for him.

"is this how it's gonna be?" you ask in a whisper. when he meets your eyes again, it's more difficult this time. what you're asking isn't predictable. it isn't a straight answer. and if he gives you anything that isn't the truth, it feels like a lie, and he can't do that to you. "w-waking up in the middle of the night? hoping that the call isn't...that...hoping that--"

"not that simple," simon interrupts gently.

"well, make it simple, simon," you say firmly. even through your tears, your voice doesn't shake this time. "make it very simple for me, then."

simon purses his lips, and for the first time since you've met your husband, he hesitates. he doesn't have an answer, at least a good one.

"don't wanna lie to ya, swee'eart," simon murmurs, and you stare right back at him.

"then don't."

he sucks on his teeth, looking away, and you tug on his hand, pulling his eyes back to you.

"look at me, simon," you say, and he looks sad. he's going to tell you something that you won't want to hear. he's going to tell you something that's been the truth since he enlisted, a reality that never bothered him until he realized he had a responsibility to keep a roof over your head. there's someone waiting inside of his house. there's a place that's waiting for him on one side of the bed he shares with you. there's someone else's shoes always next to his, and someone else's name that will always be beside his own.

family.

he has a family.

"i'll try and keep ya outta here," is all simon murmurs. you smile at that. it's a promise, but he won't lie to you. always honest, your husband. he tells you things as they are. he doesn't pretend. everything with simon is the truth as he presents it, and it's eerily comforting, even if the truth isn't one that you like.

"i love you, simon," you whisper, and when you touch his face finally, the sting of the gold of your wedding is a welcome distraction.

he vows to make this the last time you see him this way. nothing is worth seeing that face of yours like this--tired, disheveled, the angry crease in your brow. you're not meant for these things. for the waiting, the crying, the worry, it's not a life he meant to give you.

for a moment, he wonders if you'd ever ask him.

will you hang it up for me? will you leave for me?

the most terrifying part, he realizes, is that he isn't sure of what his answer would be. and he isn't sure of what you would do if he told you no.

[ckret2]

So y'all know the Gravity Falls production bible that leaked three weeks ago. Someone in one of my discord servers pointed this out:

And, naturally, that spawned an entire AU.

AU Concept: Ford was kicked out instead of Stan and takes a job as a trucker to makes ends meet since he couldn't go to college, while still studying the weird and anomalous however he can.

Ford driving around from quirky small town to quirky small town, drifting through the liminal spaces of truck stops, meeting odd people in isolated diners, seeing strange things out on the road—a deer with too many eyes bounding across a two-lane highway, a flirty woman at a rest stop who doesn't blink or breathe, mysterious lights in the sky at night, inhuman growls on the CB or 50-year-old broadcasts on the radio—and taking notes when he stops for gas or food.

Aside from having gotten kicked out before graduating high school, Ford's the same person he is in canon.

He's still an ambitious guy, and here "ambitious" means working hard and saving as much money as he can—so, a long haul owner-operator who spends weeks at a time on the road. (He goes through a LOT of educational audiobooks.) Plus, this is the easiest way for him to get to travel the country; and since it looks like his "travel the world" dreams with Stan are dead, he'll take what he can get.

Since he's never in the same spot long and carries his life in a truck, almost all of Ford's research is in his journal. His bag of investigation supplies has an instant camera, a portable tape recorder, a thermometer, a flashlight, rubber gloves, and a few zip lock bags—and that's about it. It has to share space with all his clothes, toiletries, and nonperishable food when he's on the road. He doesn't have much opportunity to closely examine anything odd he finds, unless he's lucky enough to run into something when he can stop for the night. He has to cram his paranormal research around the side of his full-time job.

He doesn't live in Gravity Falls, but he knows it exists. Every time he moves—to Chicago, to Nebraska, to California—he seems to inch closer. He currently lives in Portland and usually hauls loads between the Pacific Northwest and Chicago or New York. He stops at the truck stop outside Gravity Falls when he can and has gone fishing in town a few times. He doesn't have the benefit of extensive research to know that this is the weirdest town in the world; but it seems pretty weird to him, there are local rumors about the town, and he's had some weird experiences in the area.

Plus, he can't explain it, but it's like the town's calling to him. He wants to move there, but it'd put him over an hour outside of Portland where the nearest jobs are. Maybe if somebody chucked him like $100k to build a cabin in the woods; but what are the odds of that?

He does know Fiddleford. Truck broke down somewhere and Fiddleford kindly pulled over to fix it on the fly. They looked at each other, had mutual knee-jerk "dumb trucker/hillbilly" reactions, and within ten minutes both went "oh wait you're the most brilliant genius i've ever met." Fiddleford's living the same life he was in canon before Ford called him to Gravity Falls—with his family in California, trying to start a computer company out of his garage—but they make friends and keep in contact.

One time Ford stops at a kitschy roadside knickknack store that also sells new agey magic things—crystals, tarot cards, incense, etc. He bought a "lucky" rearview mirror ornament that looks like an Eye of Providence in a top hat and hung it from his cab fan, and ever since then he's had weird dreams whenever he sleeps in his truck.

Things I don't know yet: what Stan's up to; or why Ford's the one who got kicked out. I tend to believe that in canon Stan wasn't just kicked out because he ruined Ford's college prospects, but rather because the family thought he deliberately sabotaged Ford; so in this AU, Ford would've been kicked out over a proportionate crime.

[fallstaticexit]

The Art of Being Seen - a Nancy Landgraab story

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔗𝔴𝔬- 𝔘𝔫𝔦

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

Part II - Uni -After a traumatic outing that tears her away from her first love, 19-year-old Nancy Landgraab turns to her faith and her relationship with Geoffrey as a way to cope with her longing for Vanessa. Just as she starts to put up her walls, she meets five women, each teaching her valuable lessons about herself and about life.

Transcript under the cut

Transcript:

Nancy: Heavenly Father, help me to find peace in Your love and wisdom.

Nancy: Grant me the courage to resist temptation and to stay true to my faith. Help me understand Your will for my life and to trust in your plan. Help me...

Nancy Narrates: [For two years, I prayed until my voice grew weak]

Nancy Narrates: [Until my knees bruised from kneeling]

Nancy Narrates: [Until I forgot the color of her eyes]

Nancy: Ok, we can go now.

Geoffrey: How do you feel?

Nancy: Like I’m going to throw up. I hate crowds.

Geoffrey: You’re going to do great, Nancy.

Nancy: Are you a bettin’ man?

Geoffrey: I am now.

Nancy Narrates: [The tenderness I’ve developed for Geoffrey over the years surprised me]

Nancy Narrates: [When he returned from holiday break, I was suffering from a heartbreak I thought would kill me. All he could do was hold me as I mourned]

Nancy Narrates: [In the end, he was all that I had]

Nancy Narrates: [Loving him was the least I could do]

Becca: Hello! Have you accepted Jesus Christ into your heart? No? Think about joining our bible study group! There’s free pizza every Thursday!

Darling: I don’t know shit about this club if I’m being real with you. Coach is making me do it. Something about building your resume, don’t ask me. You joining or what?

Siobhan: A Landgraab on campus? Now that’s a treat.

Becca: [squeals] I know you! I can’t believe it’s really you!

Nancy: I’m sorry? Do I know you?

Becca: I’m Becca! Becca Clarke? I won the Landgraab Foundation Scholarship! You’re the reason I’m even here!! I am freaking out right now! My Nana will not believe this!! [gasps] Would you be interested in joining my bible study group? Of course you would! Is this your boyfriend? Sooo handsome!

Becca: Can I just say, that the Foundation is a true blessing from God. The opportunities you give to people like me is- [sniffles] sorry, I’m getting emotional.

[muffled voices]

Nancy: I- I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I thought you were-

Morgan: It’s cool, I get mistaken for all the other freaky witchy chicks that go here. [smirks] That’s a joke, by the way. I’m the only one. I’m Morgan Fyres. Interested in tarot card reading?

Nancy: Fyres? Is your father the owner of the hotel chains? Dominic Fyres?

Morgan: STEP father, actually.

Siobhan: If you’re looking for real Fyres royalty, then look no further. Siobhan. No need to introduce yourself; I know exactly who you are, Nancy Landgraab.

Morgan: [grumbles] Annnnd cue the cameras.

Siobhan: I’m the president of Theta Omega Pi, the same sorority Queenie Landgraab pledged to. She proudly hangs in our hall of fame, so it would be a privilege to welcome a true legacy into our sisterhood.

Becca: Hey! I found her first!

Morgan: How about you two back off? You’re bringing bad vibes to my stand.

Siobhan: Relax, creature of the night. I was going to discuss Nancy’s future with Theta.

Morgan: Maybe she wants to start tarot reading? This isn’t some business opp, fake Barbie wannabe.

Becca: T-t-tarot!? The devil’s board game!? The Landgraabs are Christians! She wants nothing to do with that, right, Nancy?

Siobhan: [sighs] Find your own Landgraab, Virgin Mary. Grown-ups are talking.

[distant bickering]

Darling: The fuck is a Landgraab?

[germiyahu]

Actually don't listen to me. I'm an impulse buyer with credit cards. You want a nice looking pitcher and basin to perform the hand washing mitzvot? That's an excellent opportunity to go thrifting! You might even find Judaica there, like a Chanukkiyya perhaps?

You don't want to wait 8 years for Shabbat candles to arrive from Israel? Ask your rabbi! When I asked her if you can reuse a Havdalah candle, she sensed I was worried about the cost of buying all these candles and said her shul has tons of extras.

You absolutely do need a Chumash, a Tanakh, and probably a study Bible too... but Sefaria has all that and more! Especially the Talmud and other Rabbinic sources! It literally blows my mind that this site exists and is free.

But what about all the books on Jewish history and philosophy? What about textbooks for Modern and Biblical Hebrew? See if there are scanned versions online, or go to your local library. Invest in notecards, you're going to want to write down prayers and such, this will especially help if you don't own the books you're studying from.

It's a good idea to have a Siddur, but your shul will most definitely have their own, and as others have told me, you can ask your Rabbi if you can borrow one to take home (make sure to treat it with reverence).

If you want to start baking Challah and are living on your own, or maybe in a dorm room, see if there are community cooking spaces so you don't have to buy your own materials, or just ask your parents if they can gift you some kitchenware because "You want to get into baking."

You literally don't need anything other than a cup that you think is pretty and has meaning to you for the Kiddush. And don't splurge, I've seen hundreds of very attractive Kiddush sets and candle holders and all that for modest prices.

And take it slowly! Don't buy everything at once. We're nowhere near close to Chanukka right now, so don't even put that in your mind. If you want to acquire holiday items, focus on Pesach and worry about other festivals in their due time, let your wallet recover a little. This also goes for Shabbat! You don't need a pristine set of everything all at once, I'm just an idiot. You can slowly build up your perfect beautiful intricate table as the months go by.

[active-mind-15]

I think it's jarring because most of Japan just isn't Christian whatsoever, so any serious mentions of Jesus in anime like this are far and few in between.

But yes, it would be safe to say that Murasakibara is canonically Christian. Knowing how much he doesn't put much effort into non-basketball activities, it would strike me as odd for him to go out of his way to not just find a Christian high school but apply to one if he wasn't already part of a Christian household.

Thinking about how Yosen High is canonically a Christian school which is so amusing to me as someone who went to a Christian school from pre-K to 1st grade and then a Catholic school from 2nd grade to 6th grade. I'm just thinking about the customs I used to follow in religious schools and thought I'd use my perspective to list out customs Murasakibara likely also had to follow.

Mandatory religious class once a week

Mandatory mass/church services once a week that replaced a chunk of our morning classes

The entire cafeteria saying a group prayer at lunchtime or picking one person per day to say the prayer for the whole cafeteria before eating

Learning hymns/gospel music (even funnier for Murasakibara because he canonically sucks at singing)

Religiously themed Christmas and Easter concerts and plays for our parents during the winter and spring

Taking communion and confessing sins to the pastor (or priest, in my case) every once in a while

Getting in trouble for using the Lord's name in vain

Encouraged to help out in our community (and according to the KNB wiki Yosen canonically makes their students do annual volunteer work so imagine wandering around Akita and seeing this purple giant sweeping the streets or picking up trash LMAO)

Owns a bible (that probably is filled with scribbles, doodles, and vague annotations)

Those are all the ones I can think of at the top of my head. Luckily, my schools weren't super strict since the churches I attended were non-denominational. And my parents only sent my sister and I to Catholic school because the quality of the curriculum was good, but they refused to let us actually convert to Catholicism. We were really just there for the education, LOL.

[owlobservation]

Itoshi Sae Egoist Bible Profile (2022)

"I'll see for myself... what kind of forward this country can produce."

Itoshi Rin's older brother. He's selected as one of the New Generation World 11. The Genius Midfielder!

-Profile Data-

Birthdate: October, 10th.

Age: 18 (Third year high school)

Zodiac sign: Libra.

Birthplace: Kanagawa Prefecture (Kamakura City)

Family structure: Father, mother, himself, younger brother.

Height: 180 cm.

Foot size: 26.5 cm.

Blood type: A.

Previous team before he returned to Japan: Re Ale Youth FC.

Dominant foot: Left.

Favorite Soccer Player: Álvaro Recoba. "The left-footed player who creates rainbow on the pitch."*

Age started playing soccer: 1 years old. "Before I knew it, I was already playing soccer."

Nickname: Treasure of Japan.

Strengths: Being able to see things objectively. "I'm often told that I'm a dry person but who cares."

Weaknesses: I don't know anything except about soccer. "Don't live like this, you guys."

Favorite food: Salted kombucha. "Because I can return back to zero."**

Disliked food: French fries. "It's so delicious that I could die, but it's also so unhealthy that I could die."

Best rice accompaniment: Salted kelp. "They don't have it in Spain so I got it sent from my parents' home."

Hobby: Analyzing data of soccer players and teams. "It's nice to see things visualized as numbers."

Favorite season: The end of summer. "I feel like the whole world has become lonely."

Favorite show: Chibi Maruko-chan. "It reminds me of my parents' home."

Favorite music: Suisei by Tofubeats feat. Seira Kariya. "I listen it to cool down."

Favorite movie: Taxi Driver. "This De Niro guy is the coolest."

Favorite manga: Gegege no Kitaro

Character color: Azuki Red.

Favorite animal: Seagull. "I like migratory birds that don't stay in one place."

Favorite brands: All the brands that sponsor me. "They have good eyes for betting on me."

Best subjects: No idea because I didn't really pay attention in class and only focused on soccer. "I've never seen my report card."

Fetish: Butt. "You can tell an athlete's ability by the shape of their butt."

What makes you happy: A play beyond my imagination.

What makes you sad: Being forced to carry the weight of Japanese soccer on my shoulders. "Yes, I'm talking about you guys."

The first time someone confessed to you: I don't even remember which one was the first time, dumbass.

Last year's valentine day chocolates: Around 2.000. "My manager told me."

Sleep time: 8 hours. (7 hours+1 hour nap)

Where do you wash first in the bath?: Bangs' hairline.

Mushroom or Bamboo shoots?: Depending on the mood.

What made you cry recently?: Why would I tell you, idiot.

At what age did you stop receiving presents from Santa?: 10 years old.***

What did you ask for a Christmas present from Santa?: My undiscovered talent.

What would you do on your last day on earth?: Give the world's best striker the world's best pass.

What would you do if you receive 100 million yen?: I'm not interested. It's just a small change.

What do you do on your days off?: Gazing at the sea.

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

Daily life at Blue Lock

"I haven't been there yet."

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

Sae's Ranking

1. Ranked #3 The Best at Study****

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

Initial Character Sketch by Kaneshiro

Genius Midfielder. Very Sadist (Do-S)

I can't read the rest of the notes... sorry....

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

Notes:

*Álvaro Recoba (El Chino) is a midfielder from Uruguay known for his "rainbow-like" curved kicks.

**Return back to zero=being refreshed.

***In early 2021 twitter Q&A, he said he stopped getting Christmas presents when Rin stopped believing in Santa. His answer is revised in Egoist Bible to just "10 years old."

****The title/ranking is "Who Can Study Well". Sae is the #3 person who is very good at studying (benkyou 勉強).

Check Sae's updated profile from the second volume of Egoist Bible for more!

[screaming-gelatin]

Tarot Bible Study:

Card drawn- The World

Main Focus- Mercy/Forgiveness

It is hard to move to the next level when we allow grudges to exist. God forgave us, so we should follow suit as His children and forgive others as well.

[sinvilles]

Alterations

Sobriety AU Drabble. Clay/Danielle, 15+ for language.

Clay finds his mother’s recipe cards.

Special thanks to @khanumshahrzad and @cheonsa-n for feedback!

Dear Orel,

I hope you and your family are well. It’s great that you’re traveling. I think your father would be happy about that, but he’s in a volatile mental space at this time so I have yet to share the news with him— that and he doesn’t know I’m writing you about him, and would probably be embarrassed to find out. To answer your question, I don’t think he’s emotionally ready to see you again just yet, but he is getting there.

This month your father has made an amusing foray into the world of domestic labor. Since he ceased drinking he has been plagued with the horrors of puerile boredom. This lack of stimulation has made him so antsy that last week he just about blew up the farm mixing the wrong cleaning chemicals. He insisted that he didn’t need my help, yet he has consistently called for it on a daily basis since beginning his journey into the frigid waters of sobriety. 

I don’t begrudge this of him; if it were me that was vulnerable, then I would also hope for someone with a conscience to look out for me in my time of need. Sadly, my conscience has its limitations. I will admit— and you know this, Orel— his quirks can be exhausting beyond human comprehension. For one, he is not apt to admit he’s mistaken. But let me start at the beginning.

The smell of something savory punctuated the afternoon. As Danielle closed the front door behind him, he felt a homey sense of peace swirl alongside him and hoped it would mean a nice dinner wasn’t too far ahead. He followed the scent into the kitchen, only to remember whose house he was in. 

Clay, by some ungodly means, had managed to pile six crusty ceramic and aluminum pans into the sink. He was working on defiling a seventh on the stove, stirring at his hearty smelling concoction with a look of pure concentration and a zeal that was almost religious.

Rather than interrupt him, Danielle was compelled to observe him a little longer, just to see what he would do. And what he did was lift the ladle to his lips, take a quick taste, and pause with a blank expression.

He grabbed the pot and dumped its still bubbling contents in the trash.

Danielle coughed, which caught his attention. His concentration broke into a grin.

“Oh, didn’t hear you come in.” His wild eyes sparkled as he piled another pot in the sink. “You’ll never guess what I found.”

“You’re right. I’m stumped.” He stares at the mess.

Clay shoves a little wooden box in his face, which he accepts from him. He fingers through the dozens of cards in it, daintily handwritten in cursive.

“Recipes?”

“My mother’s recipes.”

This man and his goddamn mother. Danielle recalled the obsessive detail with which he had described her long-gone presence in the house the second time he had come to see him. Pointing out how and where she had liked to sit in the living room, her favorite bible reading spot— even where she had fallen cold and dead in his fathers study. For all he knew, Clay could still see her ghost walking around, carrying on her chores, haunting him.

“So, I don’t mean to pry…”

“Pry away, buddy.” He stared lovingly at the recipe card in hand.

“I was only wondering why you’ve thrown out all this wonderful smelling Brunswick stew.” Danielle glanced into the trash.

Clay turned to face him, a very serious expression on his face.

“I just can’t get it to taste like she made it.”

“Uh-huh.”

You see, Orel, your father’s obsession with “getting it right” borders on the comical. I say “borders” because it slams face-first into the grotesque. I’ll be the first to admit to my own obsessive nature, but this is ridiculous.

Danielle swipes his finger along the edge of the last pot, gathering what’s left of the stew and gives it a taste.

“This tastes fine. Good, even.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t good, it’s just not right.”

“I see.” Danielle sighed. “But isn’t it a sin to let all this food go to waste?”

“It’s also a sin not to honor your mother.” He mumbled. “And that one actually is a commandment so it ranks above waste.”

“Right.” Danielle considered the merits of walking out on him right there and then, but paused as he remembered that he promised this man’s son he’d look out for him. 

“So, Clay… what makes yours different from hers?”

“It’s just not the same!” Clay whips around to face him. “I’m following the recipe to the milligram, as she wrote it and something about it is off and I just don’t get it!”

Danielle looks at the recipe card.

“This one uses ground pork. You know, I always had it with pulled pork.”

“Hah! Shows what YOU know.”

"Show's what you know," he said to me. What else could I do? I pulled my sleeves up like a man and did the dishes. I admired his commitment, at least. That night I helped him try two more variations of the same ingredient combination. I had at least managed to convince him to waste his food in smaller batches, and I ended up eating the last one myself when he wouldn't touch it. I thought he'd given up, but lo and behold, three days later, he sent me on a shopping trip with the exact same list of ingredients.

"Have you considered trying a different recipe?"

"No. I'm getting it right this time, I know it." There was a feverish gleam in his eye. "It's got to be that she used canned corn and not frozen corn."

So he tried several times again, varying the order in which he put in the ingredients: 

Chicken stock, canned tomatoes, ketchup, canned corn, Worcestershire sauce, barbecue sauce, hot sauce,  salt, pepper.

Canned tomatoes, canned corn, salt, pepper, chicken stock, hot sauce, Worcestershire sauce, ketchup.

Hot sauce, barbecue sauce, ketchup, Worcestershire sauce-

"That probably isn't it, Clay." He just barely held back his exasperation. "Maybe it's a different cut of meat -"

"IT IS NOT A DIFFERENT CUT OF MEAT!" He snarled, dumping another stew into the sink, this time slamming the pot in after it with a clang. "If the recipe card says ground pork, then it's ground pork. She would NEVER-"

When he turned to face him, his anger evaporated.

"I'm sorry."

"If you yell at me again, I'm not helping you any more."

"No, no, no, wait. You know, it might be something in the sautée."

Danielle sighed and pulled out another onion.

This farce went on for another two days. I don't know what compels me to indulge him like this. I suppose it wasn't really about the stew at all, and that being in his childhood home again just made him miss his mother. 

Did your father ever tell you about your grandmother? She seemed a remarkable woman. Before she had your dad, she was adventurous and lively, but she had a drinking problem that she gave up because she wanted a baby so badly. You see, because she drank she kept losing them. Once she quit, your dad finally came into the world. In a way, since he stopped drinking, your father is trying to do a similar thing for you. Adults can be complicated, and you can't always explain when or why they choose to do things. 

I think his problem is that he thinks, or rather insists, that she was perfect. I think maybe when he hears the voice of God chastising him in his head, it sounds like her.

On the fifth day, Clay had surrendered to the wave of hopelessness that washed over him. There was no recreating that distant memory of his mother's cooking. As he lay on the couch, he stared up at the ceiling.

"I'm a total failure. I couldn't even get this right..."

"Your mother would have been proud of you for trying." Danielle said flatly as he held out a box of tissues. "Let's eat out."

"I'm not hungry." 

"You can't NOT be hungry." He dropped the tissue box on Clay's chest and gritted his teeth. "You have eaten nothing but spoonfuls of the same damn stew for a week. We are going to a restaurant and you are going put food in your mouth and chew it and swallow it— or so help me I will tie you up and force feed you myself."

He glanced at his jailer-slash-life coach-slash-only-friend-left-in-the-world and blinked at him.

"You promise?"

They wound up at a diner that they often found themselves in. The dinner hour wasn't too crowded— most people didn't come to sit along the edge of Sinville during the evening hours, as they much preferred to dive right into the nightlife and what it had to offer. For Clay, who had to avoid even thinking about alcohol, the pickings were much slimmer.

The waitress brought them waters. Danielle ordered a soup and salad, and when his somber date wouldn't look at the menu he ordered him the special without looking at it.

He watched him as he stared into his water.

"Clay..." he sighed. "I know this is hard."

He looked up to meet his eye.

"No, you don't." 

"I can see it. All of this is hard for you. Physically and emotionally." He rubbed his forehead, too stressed to meet his gaze directly. "You have... a lot to grieve."

"Oh, no, you have it all wrong. I'm glad I'm rid of it. All of it." He laughed, sounding broken. "I have NEVER been more free than I am right now. Isn't that crazy?"

He pulled up the left pant of his slacks and stuck his leg out, pointing at the alcohol monitor bracelet on his ankle.

"Even with this thing threatening to call the cops on me if I slip up even once— I'm finally free!" He slammed his fist on the table, sending a tremor through his water glass. "I got what I wanted. I'm liberated now. Now all I need is to just be happy!”

What few heads were in the diner had quietly turned to look at him. Danielle glared around, daring them to eavesdrop— very quickly they went back to minding their business.

"You don't have to rush it. Any of it." 

His expression softened and returned to the state of a sad watery-eyed kitten.

Danielle's gaze fell to the table and rested on a pair of shakey hands. He closed his eyes and pushed down the urge reach out and squeeze them.

"I just need you to eat something. That's all I'm asking."

The waitress returned as if on cue and put down the minetrone soup, greek salad— and a bowl of brunswick stew in front of Clay.

Danielle buried his face in his hands.

"We can send it bac-"

"Whatever, I don't care." He muttered, shoving a heaping spoon into his mouth

He stared as if transfixed. Slowly, he chewed, swallowed, and took another bite. He chewed even slower.

Opposite him, Danielle watched his reaction as he let the mouthful linger.

He swallowed.

"This is it." His eyes darted around.

"What?"

"This is her stew!" He stood up and turned to the waitress. "I need to know what the cook put in this!"

"Um, sir!" She started as he ran past her. "You can't go into the kitchen!"

"Jesus fucking Christ..." 

Danielle followed, swinging doors hitting him as his poor, wretched friend barreled into the kitchen to solve a mystery that had been driving him crazy for a week.

He appeared to argue with the line cook for a second before he shoved a piece of paper in his chest and told him to get out of his kitchen. They were both promptly escorted out of the diner.

When he read the recipe he fell silent. They were in the car and Clay must have read the paper for the dozenth time before Danielle finally bit.

"So? What's different?"

"It's the same thing."

He went quiet for a beat.

"Except..."

"Except what?"

He mumbled something.

"Didn't catch that."

"They use pulled pork."

"You mean your mother used pulled pork."

"I don't understand it." His voice quivered.

"It's not that hard. She did what everyone else does. Everyone makes it that way. My family made it that way. And now you know that she also‐"

"But why did she lie on the recipe card?" He was in tears at this point, holding his head in his hands. "I believed her..."

Whatever schadenfreude he had left leaked out of him like a deflating balloon— once again he could see the wounded little boy in him.

"You know… maybe when she wrote it, that was what she believed it should be…and then when she saw you liked the other version better..."

He trailed off as Clay's sobs began to reverberate in his ear. It was time to take him home.

You should never idolize anyone too much, Orel. Not even me. People are only human, as you are, as am I, as is your mother, and as is your poor old dad. But you can always try to believe in them, and have faith in them, even if they do disappoint you— and they will. That is up to you, though.

Truthfully,

Coach Stopframe

[llovelymoonn]

favourite poems of august

marge piercy circles on the water: selected poems of marge piercy: "for the young who want to"

marilyn chin fruit études

lisa olstein radio crackling, radio gone: "the hypnotist's daughter"

elizabeth willis address: "the witch"

jana prikryl the after party: "to tell of bodies changed"

diane seuss backyard song

alison c. rollings original [sin]

gerard malanga cornelius...cornelius gurlitt

todd boss rocket

beyza ozer to summarise a galaxy

john foy night vision: "woods"

clodagh beresford dunne ford galaxy

dorianne laux smoke: "heart"

anthony madrid like a cloud above the ravine

pascale petit swamp deer

frank o'hara maurice ravel

adonis selected poems: "desert" (tr. khaled mattawa)

sonja johanson three deer in oquossoc

melissa stein terrible blooms: "lemon and cedar"

w. s. di piero having my cards read

thomas hoagland bible study

peter campion big avalanche ravine

alberto ríos the smallest muscle in the human body: "rabbits and fire"

lena khalaf tuffaha water & salt: "mountain, stone"

josephine miles desert

jeanne murray walker invocation to convince a baby already more than twelve days overdue to come out of the womb

andrew hudgins the imagined copperhead

robert carr stargazing while sedated

mary ruefle among the musk ox people: poems: "blood soup"

jack collom red car goes by: selected poems 1955-2000: "bald eagle count"

mahmoud darwish to a young poet (tr. fady joudah)

kofi

[that-one-girls-blog-posts]

you're confused about your emotions ? me too babe, here's a quick reading

I chose random images from my pinterest to read into your energy so you can choose randomly aswell, whatever speaks to you♡ also Idk what's with the 2016 songs today but I kept hearing random ones throughout this reading maybe there's some resonance for you

Pile 1

The Moon🌜

first off I'm hearing that song "we don't talk anymore" by Charlie Puth. So maybe you're dealing with some kind of loss right now, maybe a breakup, a fight with a loved one, a new chapter meaning you have to leave someone behind a little... if this is the case, or similar, allow yourself to be "thrown off" a little, those kinds of situations take adjusting and remember that nothing has to be forever. where I come frome we say : "thunderstorms clear the air" meaning that after a fight there's great potential for healthy communications and solving problems once and for all, for a peaceful and harmonic environment♡ A reading about your emotional state and I pull the moon, how well fitting. The answer truly lays on the inside with this one. no one can tell you how you truly feel exept for yourself! (and maybe your therapist) I think for most of you there's a new season starting and you're realising that it can't be all returning characters. Take some time to heal your relationship with relationships and analyze what and who is truly of good value to your life. you got this!

Pile 2

four of swords🗡 and page of pentacles🪙

for you I'm hearing that song "cold water" with Justin Bieber. And you actually need to take a jump into cold water. There's something you've been manifesting and now that it's slowly getting closer you're resisting the change. Maybe by refusing to let go ? It's like little kids now around Christmas, you can actually watch this happen with slight alterations, all the time. Their parents take them to the toystore so they can see what they like, and they child ofcourse find something but their parents tell them okay now time to go home and wait and see if Santa will bring it. But the kid clings to the shelves and doesn't wanna leave behind the thing they so desperately wanted. Little does it now that their parents just need to get them out of sight so "Santa" can buy the gift and deliver it WHEN IT IS TIME. let go of obsessing, overthinking and trying to "go the right path" and just let the story unfold, take it step by step even if its a little scary and you'll find yourself where you're supposed to be, you're so close already♡

Pile 3

seven of swords🗡

It's too heavy darling you can't carry all of that. You might think you do and you think you're so strong and abundant and successful for "having" all of that but then you wouldn't be feeling like this, would you? A burden, too much responsibility, too many goals or to do's for a person who only has 24hours in a day. I know the card typically speaks about actual betrayal but in this case it feels a little paranoid, like you're desperately trying to do it all on your own because your scared of beeing betrayed or someone messing with your vision or even catching evil eye. For you I'm hearing "Lady Marmalade" yk from Moulin Rounge !? I'm not sure how that fits in here and I never watched the movie but oh well, maybe you know what to do with this information. There could be something about sisterhood and sharing a problem (could be workload or talking about problems...). You might have that lonely wolf mindset, but no matter how strong you are, out there, beeing alone can get you killed. I keep seeing pictures of spiritual communities and churches, you might wanna be looking for something like a mediation or yoga class, bible study group, a coven.... depending on your beliefsystem! you're right not everyone is your friend but also not everyone is your enemy!

ps. reading back this comes off a little weird and I feel like I need to say this. please don't join a cult lol. If you are in some kind of group and things feel off, please take care of yourself♡

hope that helped <3