#but I did my best and I cited sources and kept the answers within word limits | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

literate-lamb · 3 years

Text

Man of the House | five

Sam Wilson/fem!Reader, dark!Bucky Barnes/fem!Reader | 18+

A visit to your landlord uncovers a past.

► word count: 3.6k

► warnings(!): injuries, masturbation, hallucination. this is a dark fic.

|| Series Masterlist ||

A/N: A bit of a slow chapter but we’re nearing the end lads!

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔼𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟

“We’ve checked everything, sir.”

It was hard to believe. There must be somewhere they had overlooked. Something felt amiss, you knew it.

“There were no signs of a forced entry. Everything was locked. Well, except for the balcony doors, but she had opened those.”

Had they checked the attic? The basement? He was there in the parlour windows, and the next, he was at the bottom of the stairs, close to the front door. You refused to believe he had came in easily, as if he had apparated in.

“The door she claimed the assailant kicked showed no damage whatsoever.”

That was impossible. You had heard it. You watched it shake as he demanded entry. You had felt it, the vibrations from his heavy boots passing through the floorboards. If there were no marked footprints, there should’ve been at least a splinter in the wood.

“We’ve received complaints like these before regarding the Rogers’ house, but we can’t really do anything when there’s no evidence. A ‘ghostly’ touch on the ankle can’t be taken as evidence.”

And just like that, your case was dismissed. Your encounter, taken with a grain of salt. Your experience, dismissed as a mere ghostly tale.

You had almost wanted to show them the purples around your neck. To take off the makeup and show them, to pass them off as evidence of an assault. But with no recollection of the event, and no solid evidence, you refrained. It would only backfire; not only towards you, but towards Sam as well.

“Thank you, officers. For all your help, but we can handle it from here.”

It was a long night and it ended when the officers had left. They had searched your house, taken your statement, and calmed you down. They were polite enough, listening when you recounted your harrowing experience, giving you comfort in the form of a shock blanket. However, their quick dismissal left a sour aftertaste within you. The disheartening feeling of being seen as a hysterical woman.

You only had Sam who believed. You hoped he did.

“Sam, you believe me... right?”

“Of course, baby. Of course.”

Too shook up after last night’s incident, sleep evaded you until the wee hours of the morning, all the while curled up next to your saviour. He had soothed you, a protective arm at all times, giving you time. He never left your side throughout the night.

Now, huddled under the warm comforter of your guest room, you played last night’s events on loop. Heart palpating by even the sight of your bedroom door, Sam had decided a switch was in order.

At the end of the bed, Peaches laid in a white loaf by your feet, softly purring. She was a comforting presence, the heavy weight a reminder you weren’t alone. A guardian angel in her own way.

The day came and went faster than you could register.

In the morning, Wanda had came by with Vis to check up on you. She was worried after your abrupt goodbye on the phone and she was right to be. You missed their visit, being at the forefront of sleep. The warm serving of Paprikash you had for lunch was the sole indication of her visit.

Tony and Pepper had called and sent a large bouquet of colourful assortments with a ‘get well soon’ card attached right to your doorstep. They had heard from Sam, who had taken the duty of taking messages and answering your calls for you, citing your need for rest. Both had expressed the desire to visit, unfortunately corporate obligation had swamped them both.

In the late afternoon, Sam had came in with snacks in bed to soothe your cravings before dinner. He had prepared a few biscuits and fruits and made the grand gesture of feeding you with grapes.

“Some folks in the area actually came by to give these to you,” Sam said, shooing a hissing Peaches off the bed. Those two will never get along. “A Mrs Proctor and her grandkid, said you’ve met before at her shop. Seems like you’ve been making friends.”

You hummed, confirming the information. It’s been a while, yet you still remembered your little visit and the incident. Warm, welcoming grandmother and her sour, distrustful grandchild. But after your harrowing experience, you came to realize maybe the teen had known something; it wasn’t just a tale told to scare teenagers off the property on Halloween.

If the both of them knew, then the whole neighbourhood knew. It isn’t a secret when the local police visited you in the middle of the night. Word always traveled fast in small neighbourhoods.

“She sent her regards and hope you’ll come visit soon,” he continued. “Her grandkid told me to relay a message to you too.”

You eyed him, prompting him to resume.

“She said ‘all the best’.”

There was no help coming for you.

—

As the Sun slowly descended into the horizon, you received your last visitor at the end of the day. He came to the house while you were in the bath, finally having the energy to rid off the grime from the last horror.

You scrubbed your skin until it felt raw, the stinging a reminder to stop. You watched as the water swirled down the drain, bringing with it the impurities of the previous night.

You began dressing, the dark turtleneck a warm choice against frigid Autumn. Wiping the fogged up mirror, you stared at your reflection, observing your state. Your skin was deadly pale with dark rings concentrated beneath your eyes; a perfect representation of a troubled person.

Carefully rolling down the collar, you gently thumbed the delicate skin of your neck. What was once a large bruise had shrunk, covering you in patches. They were now a faded purple with a tint of green; a sign of healing.

They disgust you.

Your stomach churned looking at them. They were a reminder of a fog: thick, dense, a swallower of memories. You stared at them hard, racking your mind for a smidge of something, for anything. The longer it took, the uglier they became.

You unconsciously wrapped a hand around your neck, covering the ugly bruises from sight. It felt familiar, yet foreign. Slowly, you began putting pressure, firmly squeezing the sides. You felt an amounting rush.

You sat yourself on the opened toilet seat, back resting against the body. With the unoccupied hand, you hastily pushed your skirt and underwear aside. You worked yourself, rubbing your clit and running fingers down your lower lips, spreading your gathering slick. You let your mind stray away, forgetting the upsetting contusions, driven by only pleasure.

Mewling, you pleasured yourself, knees in the air. More and more, you squeezed thoughtlessly, cutting your airways to chase that building pleasure. You let your imagination wander; visualizing thicker fingers spearing you and heavier palms circling your throat. Intermittently you’d pull out, slapping your cunt while envisioning rough digits handling you. You didn’t envision the physique of anyone, just the feel of a touch. They were familiar, kept in the back of your mind like a hidden memory. You were sure they were not that of your boyfriend.

You were becoming dizzy, high off adrenaline from your asphyxiation. Nearing the tipping point, you quickened your ministrations until you finally snapped. Your thighs quivered as you came crashing, gasping for oxygen as you released your hold. Slick painted your thighs as they trembled. Eyes brimming with tears, you eyed yourself in the opposite mirror. You sighed, lost in blissful delirium; the sound of a woman spent.

Your bliss was short-lived when a knock came on the bathroom door.

“Baby, you okay in there? Your landlord came by for a visit, he just left.”

The tenor of Sam’s voice startled you, grounding you back to reality. You sprung up, adjusting your clothes and making yourself seem proper. Thighs still shaky, your legs felt like putty as you tried to stand up.

“In a minute!” you respond.

When you’ve deemed yourself decent enough, you opened the door. Sam’s toothy smile greeted you.

“My girl’s lookin’ all fresh and smellin’ beautiful,” he whistled.

“That’s silly,” you laughed, hitting his chest. Sam grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your lips.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Feeling slightly better.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t closer to the truth either. “Being taken care of really did wonders, I want this to last forever,” you kissed him again. “Just the two of us.”

“I’d love that as well.”

It was quiet for a time, the both of you lost in a peaceful bliss. Foreheads touching, you both focused on the moment; taking in the scent of your partner, hearing the beat of each other’s heart, and overall enjoying being in the other’s company. If given, you would prefer to stay like this forever. The beating of his heart, it grounded you. This was your safe place.

Minutes passed and you were both still locked in each other. It took a sudden loud thump in the ceiling for you two to part.

THUD!

You quickly jumped away, horribly spooked. You were on high alert, fidgety, and distraught. The loud noise triggered your flight or fight, leaving you frantically searching for the source.

“Look at me, look at me,” Sam called your name. He grabbed your shoulders, rubbing your forearms in soothing circles. “You’re fine. Breath, you’re fine. I’m here.”

Sam guided your breathing and you followed his rhythm. After a while, you were calmed once more. It was obvious you were still spooked, a second thud confirmed it when you shot up at the sound.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sam’s soothing voice cooed. “Would it make you feel better if I checked?”

You frantically nodded. Sam hastily strided through the hall with you close behind. He pulled the attic hatch but it wouldn’t open.

“It’s stuck.”

Sam tried again, giving it a pull a few times. On the strongest pull, it finally relented, revealing the ladder. As it slid down, a large heavy object came tumbling along with it, thudding by your feet. Sam picked it up and upon closer inspection it was an album. The word “Memories” greeted you; it was the photo album you had found a week earlier. You felt a cold run through you.

“Now, what do we have here.”

He flipped through, stopping on the wedding photo of Mr Rogers and his wife, their fading faces smiling at you. Photos of their vacations, anniversaries, and holidays passed.

“Seems that he had a fulfilling life.”

Sam continued flipping before stopping on an older photograph. It showed a younger Mr Rogers and a brunette man with his arm slung over the shorter blonde. You immediately paled, recognizing this man. The same hair colour, except shorter. The same steel blue eyes, except brighter. The same chiselled cleft chin.

It was no doubt, this man was your intruder .

You felt the temperature plunge upon your realization; wondering why he had seemed familiar. Panic began to consume you as Sam continued to flip through, the blue eyes in each photo seeming more sinister than the last, haunting your subconscious.

Sam stopped when he noticed your trembling. Your eyes were glassy as you stared at the photo of the brunette decked in a peacoat.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam asked, worried.

“T-this man,” you pointed to the photo. “It was him last night.”

“Are you sure?” Sam closed the album, giving you a concerning gaze. “Do you need to lay down?”

How dare he. He didn’t believe you. After everything, was it all pity?

“Yes, I’m freaking sure!” you shouted, tears spilling over. “And I do not need to lay down, Sam. I’m perfectly fine.”

It was tense from there. None of you spoke for a while. You could see a shine of regret reflected in his orbs, softening your anger by bit. Despite his reserved apprehension, he had saved and later, attended to you. He didn’t deserve your fury.

“I-I’m sorry for shouting, but why would I lie about this Sam?” you sighed. You were tired. “I don’t know who he is or if he’s even alive. I’ve never met him, but it seems like my landlord has.”

“Do you want to see him? Tomorrow?” Sam asked. “I can arrange it.”

“Yes, please,” you pleaded, giving him an empty smile. “Ghosts or not, I need answers.”

“Okay,” he slipped the album beneath his arm. “Let me check the attic first.”

Sam had checked every corner twice before climbing down. There was nothing unusual, saved for the coincidental album.

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖

The wet concrete was a hazard as you exited the car. Fall brought in cold winds as well as the small drizzles and showers here and there. The smell of rain mixed in with mud was high as you and Sam took deliberate steps on the pavement.

The mailbox was a rusted red with ‘Rogers’ scrawled in white, the lawn an immaculate green spread that showed its upkeep. Opposed to the grandeur and foreboding nature of your rental, Mr Rogers’ abode was a small little thing. It looked old and worn, with a browning chimney and paint chipping off its sides.

You rang the doorbell and waited. Soon, Mr Rogers greeted you and welcomed you both in.

“Come in, come in. Make yourselves comfy, it’s not much but it’s home.” he ushered in. “Please, take a seat. I’m making some tea in the kitchen. It won’t be long.” Mr Rogers disappeared, leaving you and Sam time in his living room.

Similar to the exterior, the interior was just as worn, with the lumpy couches and yellow staining the ceiling. This house had seen better days but you couldn’t deny the certain charm. Off to the side of the living room, a fireplace stood, its mantle littered with framed photographs. You took a step closer to observe them.

There were many photos of Mr Rogers with his wife, but there were equally the same amount with that of this elusive ‘James Barnes’. All of them were of the brunette with shorter hair, clean shaven, and lean; a contrast of the man who had grabbed you. A feature that stood out were his eyes. They looked hopeful and bright in these, the opposite of what you’ve seen. You shivered at the memory of locking with them through many mirrors.

“I hope you’re both fine with regular black tea.” The older man came in, carrying a tray of bone china tea set and finger sandwiches. He poured you each a cup, placing them on the coffee table.

“It’s more than fine, sir,” Sam took a cup. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

It was quiet for a moment with everyone sipping their tea. You sat beside Sam on the lumpy couch to the opposite of the older gentleman. You didn’t know where to start.

“I heard of what happened,” Mr Rogers started to your relief. “Officers Matthews and McCray phoned me in the morning. They’re probably exasperated, those two. Always getting calls about my house.”

“Enough about that, I should be asking you about your well-being. How are you doing, dear?” he asked, giving you a forlorn expression.

The blues of his eyes began to change, taking on a much more steely quality. His platinum strands darkened and lengthened, becoming dull and greasy. His frail body began bulking and doubling in size. The wrinkles of his skin disappeared, pulling taut over his cheekbones.

He was morphing, taking on the figure that haunts you.

In his place was your monster.

A nudge surprised you, pulling you away. The face of your nightmare nowhere, Mr Rogers remained in his armchair.

“Hey, you alright?” Sam shook you, concerned. “We lost you for a minute there.”

“Um, yeah.”

You looked at him, eyes vacant. You turned towards the older man, he gave you the same look of concern.

“It’s nothing, just thought I— Sorry, it’s nothing.” you gave a nervous chuckle.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Mr Rogers asked, refilling your cup. “I know this is far from just a friendly visit. From my experience with past tenants, I understand if you want to leave. And don’t you worry about the deposit, I’ll give a full refund. It’s the least I could do.”

Relief filled your chest at hearing those words. This wasn’t what you had come here for, but it was a welcomed balm to your already tumultuous mind. It was one less thing to worry about.

“Thank you, Mr Rogers,” you said. “But that’s not actually what we’re here for.”

Signalling towards Sam, he uncovered the photo album from a canvas bag. You took it and carefully set it on the coffee table, spreading it open to a portrait of a brunette soldier.

“We’re sorry for bringing this here, but it dropped from the attic when we opened the hatch,” Sam explained.

You watched as the elder’s fingers ghosted over the lettering of the man’s name; James Buchanan Barnes . They were light, careful, afraid of ruining the piece of antiquity.

“Mr Rogers, can you tell us a bit about this man?” you asked, desperate for answers. “Were the two of you friends?”

It took a while before he answered, eyes never taking off the photo.

“Bucky was my best friend. We grew up together in Brooklyn and he always had my back. Though, he was always neckin’ with a dame once in a while,” he mirthlessly chuckled. “He was always there.”

“When my ma contracted TB and passed, Bucky always helped. Late on the rent? He’ll cover it for ya. Low on food? He can cook.”

He flipped through the album, recounting every tale that came with a photo and you let him. This was a man who missed his youth, left for only time to claim.

He recited how they went to Connie Island and how he threw up after riding the Cyclone. The many dance hall dates that left him for his friend. The many tales of how ‘Bucky’ had saved his butt in alley fights. The war they spent together fighting in Europe, defeating Nazi base after Nazi base. The war where he returned the favour of becoming ‘Bucky’s’ saviour.

“Bucky was all I had.”

He stopped at the last page, where a photo of them in uniform in the snowy mountains stood.

“What happened to him?” Sam asked.

A long stretch of silence filled between the three of you, not readying you for the answer you were to receive.

“He died. Fell off a train in the Alps. I never saw him again.”

And it was back to silence. A beat or two passed.

“What’s this sudden interest in him?” the elder man asked, accompanied by a mirthless chuckle. “I didn’t think I’d be reciting his tale again after so long.”

You flipped the pages back to the portrait, stomach becoming queasy as you prepared to tell your tale.

“This man,” you paused, pointing at the photo. “He’s the one that came into the house the other night.”

“How…? Are you sure?” Mr Rogers’ breath hitched. “He’s been long gone for 75 years.”

“We’re not sure how,” you started. “But I have a theory.”

Sam handed you a flimsy folder. You opened it, taking out clipped pieces of paper. Most of them were screenshots of blog posts from previous tenants, recounting their part of the story living in your current residence. There was a similarity in their retellings that you noticed.

“These are some of the blog posts I managed to find on the house.” You arranged the papers on the coffee table, making them face the elderly man. “Sorry to sprung these on you, but I noticed a consistency in the hauntings that tenants before me have experienced.”

“Go on.”

You let out a breath before continuing, ”In each of the stories, everyone has said that they’ve seen an apparition of a man.”

You pointed to the highlighted texts, their descriptions of an encounter similar.

“Sometimes in an army uniform.”

You turned to the portrait film of ‘Bucky’ in his World War II uniform.

“And sometimes in a blue coat.”

You flipped to the photo of Mr Rogers and ‘Bucky’ on the Alps. It was too good of a coincidence.

“So, what you’re saying,” Mr Rogers put two and two. “Maybe it’s his spirit that has been haunting the house all along.”

“That’s a way to put it,” you confirmed.

He seemed to still be taking it all in. A conflicted expression on his face, full of sadness and worry. Minutes passed and everyone started to move on, with the elder steering the conversation away. You thought it would take time for him, after the sudden resurgence and recalling of a traumatic past. You thought he would have more questions. But he surprised you and Sam by bouncing back, carrying the conversation with the fond memories of his past. It seemed a bit odd, but you put it behind you.

The both of you ended up staying over for dinner.

“Won’t you keep an old man company? It can be quite lonely since I don’t have kids of my own.”

The evening flew faster, with Sam and Mr Rogers exchanging military stories over plates of spaghetti. They bonded over their shared experience, with you chiming in questions once in a while. You looked on in fondness, enjoying the time spent. Maybe you could do it again.

When it came time to leave, you both thanked Mr Rogers for his hospitality. You slipped him an invitation to have a meal at the house some time. However, before you could leave, the elder stopped you, a hand gripping your shoulder.

“Sorry dear, I needed to know. This theory of yours,” he said, forehead creasing. “You don’t believe in them, do you?”

You were caught in surprise by his sudden line of questioning, having thought of already getting past it. Nevertheless, you answered.

“Maybe I’m starting to have a change of thought.”

And finally, you were no longer in denial.

A/N: Next up: The Witch’s Visit

#sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x you #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #sam wilson fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #dark fic #tw: injuries #ghost bucky #marvel reader-insert #marvel fanfiction #horror #thriller

52 notes · View notes

whatscallion · 5 years

Note

“Just call me cake, cause I’m going straight to your ass, cowboy.” with Nat and Steve PLEASE

In the spirit of the upcoming month of Halloween …

Tagging @cptsteven bc i know she’ll like it too

It was the fifth annual Stark-o-Lantern Halloween party, taking place the weekend prior to the actual holiday itself, if only because it fell boringly in the middle of the week. No one had ever truly cared much for the gothic holiday, citing far more important activities to be had, the laziest being “listening to police scanners” ( courtesy of Clint Barton ). It wasn’t until the idea of unity and family came to surface in the team of the righteous did the holiday become something to look forward to.

Leave it to Tony to foot the bill to make it that way.

Property out north of the city had been bought ( much to Pepper’s chagrin ) and the proper people were hired ( also to Pepper’s chagrin ) to make each year more memorable than the last. A corn maze. A haunted mansion. A miniature carnival complete with rickety rides and rigged games. It felt important to provide a place where they could relax and mingle with one another without the “sir” and “ma’am” and weapons.

Mostly.

“I told you you couldn’t bring guns,” Tony admonished, catching sight of the Winghead dressed, unsurprisingly, for the Wild, Wild West. “I also told you that you couldn’t use the same costume as last year. This is just lazy, Steve.”

“It’s not lazy. You really think I had time to go down to Target and get something new?” Sheriff Rogers was holding an unnecessarily spiked hot apple cider and posing casually in fringed chaps, wranglers, a further fringed leather vest, and a crisp white Stetson. Had this not been the third time Tony had seen this outfit, he would’ve pointed out that he could’ve been in a remake of ‘True Grit’ seamlessly. But alas, he was left thinking of ‘Blazing Saddles’.

“Rogers, you’re killing me.” And it was at that point a rare moment of childish humor came into play: Steve pulled the plastic gun from his holster and clicked the trigger. “If I didn’t know it was impossible for you to get drunk, you’d have me thinking otherwise. I have to go make sure Barton isn’t hoarding candy for his kids. Please try to have fun.”

“You make it sound like I don’t know how to have fun-”

“Fun isn’t something you can really fake,” Sam chirped in over Steve’s shoulder, making the soldier jump a bit at the sudden appearance of his friend. “Ahaha, gotcha, huh?”

Sam was dressed … interestingly. Someone had wrapped him entirely in aluminum foil, drawing a very unimpressive circle on his chest. The perking of Steve’s eyebrow must’ve been question enough.

“I’m Aluminum Man. Y’know, like Iron Man but-” Words were cut off at the sheer confusion on Steve’s face. “Nevermind. Hey, you seen Buck around?”

“No, not yet.” He doubted his best friend would show up, not that he was really banking on it. In fact, he was hoping someone else would show up. “Haven’t seen nat either.”

“I’m sure they’ll show- oh mY GOD.” Sam spotted Buck, who had cut his hair short, dyed it blonde and was wearing one of the uniforms Clint had turned down. Sam was immediately howling with laughter, and Steve could not believe the defected assassin was taking a cheap shot at the archer in a parody costume. “YOU DID NOT.”

Buck grinned something snarky, pointedly ignoring the glare from the candied apples stand across the path. Clint was already planning his revenge of the greasy piece of sh-

“I had to. I couldn’t let all the stuff he says about me fly like that.”

“The blonde does not suit your complexion at all, man.”

“Oh good, then I look more like him than I originally thought.”

The trio had a solid snicker, spending time rounding up a variety of sugary goods, spiked hot chocolates ( of which Sam had ordered a “cup of me”, bringing Steve to facepalm ). Despite the time spent with the boys, which was surely a fun time, Steve had kept a keen eye out for a familiar silhouette and shade of crimson. Disappointment was slowly starting to settle into his bones, but more so at himself. He should’ve known better than to think Romanoff would attend one of these parties. Had she even gone to any of the prior ones? Or was her costume just that good? The revelation brought him to scrutinize costumes that hid faces, but he was left with more suspicions than answers.

A hand patting his back brought him thoughts back to the candy corn he’d been taking his time eating.

“Don’t worry, bud. You shouldn’t get down about Nat. She’s never been one to be like … out there, y’know?” Sam had had one too many spiked hot cocoas, but the sentiment remained the same.

“You’re right,” Steve admitted. “It’s not like I had anything planned, anyways.”

This was a lie. He’d wanted to kiss her in the corn maze. Was that too cheesy?

“Yes. That is really too cheesy,” Buck said, eating cotton candy from the end of an arrow. It hadn’t occurred to Steve that he’d been thinking outloud. For a moment, he was thankful for the lack of light in the night air since it meant no one could see just how red his cheeks were in a furious blush.

“Shut up. Let’s hit up the Haunted Mansion.” Sam swooped in, per usual, to save the day. Any kind of wallowing could be fixed in the eyes of Sam Wilson, despite him knowing how much Steve thought haunted mansions were cliche and boring.

When you are in a constant war with every bad guy in the universe, is there such a thing as a jumpscare anymore?

It was a way to pass time, so Steve couldn’t really argue with the boys, who almost always ribbed one another too much to even notice the zombie jumping out of the dark corner in the room or anything. Steve was just thankful that he had a handful of candy corn and two grown children to babysit.

Until they suddenly weren’t even around. When did he get alone in that room? The bland walls flipped to produce mirrors. A whole lot of mirrors, leaving the patriot to stare at several dimensions of himself, bathed in a sickly green light. He couldn’t help but notice that green really wasn’t his color.

Movement in the corner of his eye, and he nearly snapped his neck trying to catch it in time. All he was left with was, well, nothing. It made him think he was just seeing things because of the general ambience. It wouldn’t be the first time. Wanda was banned from using magic within the first ten minutes of her first appearance at one of these Halloween parties. That had been a James Wan movie made real.

Another movement from the corner of his eye, leaving him whirling to try and catch it. Again nothing.

“Ha ha, guys. Very funny, trying to scare an old man. We all know that isn’t happening.” Confidence painted his tone thickly, as if he was absolutely sure this was something Sam, Bucky, and Tony had cooked up in their free time. He wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest if that were the case.

Two fingers walked two inches up his spine, though he spun again to try and catch who’s fingers it was, only to be met with his own face looking back at him.

“Come on, guys. Using Wanda like this isn’t very nice.”

Two more inches, and he turned. He wasn’t met with his own face, but rather a neon glowing sign shining through the mirror that was creating an illusionary wall. The green light had changed its source from the bulbs overhead to this light alone.

It was a neon pair of green lips. Nothing special, and nothing particularly unnerving about it. An unseen white neon bulb flickered a skull and crossbones behind the lips. Steve rolled his eyes.

“This is just getting annoying,” he grumbled, looking around to try and find a way out. Calloused palms moved along the mirrors, leaving prints in his wake in his search for the exit. But the further he traveled from the neon, the darker the shadows grew.

He was met with another neon sign, though this time, it took on the crude illustration of a witch face. Rather than look as if it were fixed on a wall, it moved slightly. It would be now that Bucky would tell Steve that this was a golden rule in watching horror movies: the closer a character looks at something, the more likely there is to be a jumpscare.

So, naturally, Steve Rogers leaned in to try and see if he could make out what was attached to the neon face.

Instead of getting an answer, he was met with a quiet and remarkably sinister whisper in his ear despite there being nothing in the reflection.

“Just call me cake, cause I’m going straight to your ass, cowboy.”

It was followed swiftly with a loud SMACK! across his ass.

And thus, Steve Rogers nearly jumped out of his skin, crashing into not one, but two mirrors with flailing limbs and scattered candy corn.

With the breath stolen from him and nerves frayed, he laid in a heap of broken mirrors, fluorescent lights flickering to light above, only to be blotted out by that damned witch mask. He felt so cold in that moment, right up until that mask was pulled back, and the face of a very, very sneaky Russian was grinning down at him.

“NAT?!”

“Did I ever mention that I love Halloween?”

“NO?!”

“Shh.”

“NO!”

She helped him pipe down with that kiss he’d been wanting, though he would’ve greatly preferred his original idea of the corn maze to this.

But he couldn’t help but grin about it the next day.

#romanogers #captain america #black widow #mine #answered #babyhenbitch #idk why i always write more around halloween #userlu #kaitsfam #userblackwidow #userlulu

33 notes · View notes

kenzymirror · 6 years

Text

The hidden wisdom of God

“Some of the hidden wisdom of God is buried in the hidden but spiritually fertilized soil of nature culminating in the spiritual dimension of human physiology.” Prof. Nathan Uzorma Protus “My only son was involved in a high jump in their school inter-house sports and had an accident in the process. He broke his ankle and one part of his body consequently became paralyzed; I wept and wept until I lost control of my life. The sad news associated with this is the fact that I lost my wife some years back when my son was two years in an auto-accident too. I took care of my son knowing I was been chased by some evil kinsmen who wanted my position at all cost. We have been praying but it was as if God does not answer prayers. I have visited almost all the best hospitals I know; they kept telling me (after applying all their medical treatment that yielded no result) to try spiritual means. In fact, it was a medical doctor that gave me your number and asked me to contact you. When I did, you promised investigating my case and thereafter recommended four different bottles of your oil which I ordered. After praying and drinking the oil as directed, I noticed serious change in my son’s health. He started responding to medical treatment. We combined your prayer with medical treatment as you instructed and God answered us. Today, my son is healed and has gone back to school and the evil men responsible have received their own reward from God one by one. Glory be to God for using you…” – Mr. Walter Email [email protected]

“Dear Prof. my two children confessed involvement in witchcraft operation. There confession frightened my household that nobody wanted to associate with my family any more. My Pastors never helped the matter at all. I was afraid until someone that you assisted with your oil told me to contact you and I did not waste time to do so. You recommended three bottles of your wonder oil and I got them immediately, and prayed with them for my two children according to your instruction. I noticed that they could not fly at night to any spiritual meetings again, and they started becoming very normal and stopped behaving strangely. They stopped destroying things at home anyhow. In fact, after the prayer, my children came back to us and we have started enjoying them like before. I can’t thank you enough for this sir…” – Anonymous. The fact is that we have misunderstood ourselves in the light of spiritual spectrum of reality. We have grossly applied some vain philosophies of life that have greatly assisted mankind in the acceleration of his predicament. Ignorance is responsible! We must realize that we are one with HIM the internally eternal God and he separates ignorance from knowledge at all time and in due time. Some of the hidden wisdom of God is buried in the hidden but spiritually fertilized soil of nature culminating in the spiritual dimension of human physiology. READ ALSO: Religion verses spirituality I must say here that man is a unit of a higher energy and therefore generates hidden energies within him that are geared towards consolidation of his spiritual and physical being. It is consequent upon this that various aspects of his bodies vibrate in accordance with the forces of light to pass or emit information to the gross material body. This is the hidden wisdom imbedded in the unit of the super-conscious being-man in order to guide him in the right path. It is unfortunate that many people negate this and pass on in life in conspicuous penury, excruciating and deplorable conditions.

In order to traverse material cum chaotic dimensions, man must be in tune with the infinite God, the maker of his soul. One should refrain from confusing his personal theology with reality. Today, people simply sweep away and vilify or negate any ideology remotely spiritual, organized religion has organized God’s spirituality out of place by consolidating conventional cum ubiquitous halleluiah hysteria believe system bereft of wisdom. Mankind appears not to be interested in spiritual reality as a result; humanity now believes what they are told by those they look up to in authority. Some earthly priests have therefore become our surrogate parents and holy fathers no matter how ignorant they are or appear to be. Though, this makes some sense in one aspect of organized religion because man must survive by dominating his fellow man through implementation of religious dominion. This is the outcome of naivety and mediocrity which has today a source of survival to some modern earthly priests. I strongly believe that one day, when the sons of God on earth shall become wise, the prophets that feed on the ignorance of Christ congregation shall die of hunger. Until that day, man must search for freedom. As a researcher in the path of spiritual knowledge, knowing that there exists core spirituality in Christian religion, is too tantalizing to ignore hence my profound interest. My core interest in ancient biblical spirituality usually clamours for serious unsatisfying attention hence my interest to emancipate humanity from the morass of ignorance. Let me sound philosophical here. The writings of antiquity of the twenty four year old Roman scholar Giovanni Pico (1463-94) established the fact on the brilliance of mankind and its privileged place in creation. According to Pico’s parable, after God made the universe and populated it with angelic beings of heaven and the beasts of the earth, each with its specific nature and function, he still needed a creature to ‘think on the plan of his great work.’ In his words, “…with the sharpness of his senses, the acuity of his reason, and the brilliance of his intelligence (he is) the interpreter of nature, the model point between eternity and time.”

Pico’s landmark Oration opens with an appeal to two authorities. The first is Abdala the Saracen, the ninth century Muslim scholar Abd-Allah ibn Qutaybah, who declared ‘there was nothing more wonderful in the world than man’. Pico follows with a quotation from the same mysterious sage whom Copernicus also cited: ‘the celebrated exclamation of Hermes Trismegistus, “What a great miracle is man, Asclepius confirms this opinion. Man has been at the center of everything in nature. The importance of religion is built all around him. The power of spirituality is his nature while ignorance has played major role in disuniting him with his maker. The willingness to take seriously and adjust with speed other sound spiritual wisdom hitherto not native to his consciousness is considered abominable. Some churches are very wary of learning as they frown at novelty and spiritual intellectual challenge. The frenzy of interest to proper knowledge resists sound spiritual renaissance. The kind of renaissance the present day church supports is the kind that will only provide food on the table and cause them to live in affluence and opulence. This kind of Neo-credo that has bedeviled and cocooned the church does not allow the core practice of love to manifest. As a result, any one with the vision, mission and ability to navigate the extraordinary and translate spiritual metaphors cum biblical oxymoron into conventional reality with spiritual and intellectual insight, the same is usually abused, vilified, negated and blasphemed. When shall this end? The Bible says, “A rebuke goes deeper into a man of understanding, than a hundred blows into a fool” Prov. 17:10. Think about this!

The post The hidden wisdom of God appeared first on – The Sun News.

The post The hidden wisdom of God appeared first on kenzymirror.com.

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2mpTHaE via IFTTT from Blogger https://ift.tt/2Npzq0d

#Blogger #NEWS #Nigeria

0 notes

tpanan · 6 years

Text

My Monday Daily Blessings

May 28, 2018

Be still quiet your heart and mind, the LORD is here, loving you talking to you...........

Monday of the Eight Week in Ordinary Time (Roman Rite Calendar)

Lectionary: 347, Liturgical Year B

First Reading: 1 Peter 1:3-9

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who in his great mercy gave us a new birth to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you who by the power of God are safeguarded through faith, to a salvation that is ready to be revealed in the final time. In this you rejoice, although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire, may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Although you have not seen him you love him; even though you do not see him now yet you believe in him, you rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, as you attain the goal of faith, the salvation of your souls.

Responsorial Psalm: Ps 111:1-2, 5-6,

"The LORD will remember His covenant forever."

Verse before the Gospel: 2 Cor 8:9

Alleluia, Alleluia

"Jesus Christ became poor although he was rich, so that by his poverty you might become rich."

Alleluia, Alleluia

Gospel Reading: Mark 10: 17-27

As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up, knelt down before him, and asked him, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus answered him, "Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: You shall not kill; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness; you shall not defraud; honor your father and your mother." He replied and said to him, "Teacher, all of these I have observed from my youth." Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, "You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." At that statement, his face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions.

Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, "How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the Kingdom of God!" The disciples were amazed at his words. So Jesus again said to them in reply, "Children, how hard it is to enter the Kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God." They were exceedingly astonished and said among themselves, "Then who can be saved?" Jesus looked at them and said, "For men it is impossible, but not for God. All things are possible for God."

**Meditation:

What gives hope and satisfaction to our desire for happiness and security? A young man who had the best the world could offer - wealth and security - came to Jesus because he lacked one thing. He wanted the kind of lasting peace and happiness which money could not buy him. The answer he got, however, was not what he was looking for. He protested that he kept all the commandments - but Jesus spoke to the trouble in his heart. One thing kept him from giving himself wholeheartedly to God. While he lacked nothing in material goods, he was nonetheless possessive of what he had. He placed his hope and security in what he possessed. So when Jesus challenged him to make God his one true possession and treasure, he became sad.

Misplaced hope and treasure Why did he go away from Jesus with great sorrow and sadness rather than with joy? His treasure and his hope for happiness were misplaced. Jesus challenged the young man because his heart was possessive. He was afraid to give to others for fear that he would lose what he had gained. He sought happiness and security in what he possessed rather than in who he could love and serve and give himself in undivided devotion.

The greatest joy possible Why does Jesus tell his disciples to "sell all" for the treasure of his kingdom? Treasure has a special connection to the heart, the place of desire and longing, the place of will and focus. The thing we most set our heart on is our highest treasure. The Lord himself is the greatest treasure we can have. Giving up everything else to have the Lord as our treasure is not sorrowful, but the greatest joy. [See Jesus' parable about the treasure hidden in a field in Matthew 13:44.] Selling all that we have could mean many different things - letting go of attachments, friendships, influences, jobs, entertainments, styles of life - really anything that might stand in the way of our loving God first and foremost in our lives and giving him the best we can with our time, resources, gifts, and service.

Why does Jesus issue such a strong warning to the rich (as well as to the rest of us who desire to be rich)? Was he really against wealth? We know that Jesus was not opposed to wealth per se, nor was he opposed to the wealthy. He had many friends who were well-to-do, including some notorious tax collectors! One even became an apostle! Jesus' warning reiterated the teaching of the Old Testament wisdom:

Better is a poor man who walks in his integrity than a rich man who is perverse in his ways

(Proverbs 28:6; see also Psalm 37:16).

Do not wear yourself out to get rich; be wise enough to desist

(Proverbs 23:4).

Why is Jesus so cautious about wealth? Wealth can make us falsely independent. The church at Laodicea was warned about their attitude towards wealth and a false sense of security: "For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing" (Revelation 3:17). Wealth can also lead us into hurtful desires and selfishness (see 1 Timothy 6:9-10). Look at the lesson Jesus gave about the rich man and his sons who refused to aid the poor man Lazarus (see Luke 16:19ff). They also neglected to serve God.

We loose what we keep - we gain what we give away The Scriptures give us a paradox: we lose what we keep and we gain what we give away. Generosity will be amply repaid, both in this life and in eternity (Proverbs 3:9-10, Luke 6:38). Jesus offers us an incomparable treasure which no money can buy and no thief can steal. The thing we most set our heart on is our highest treasure. Material wealth will shackle us to this earth unless we guard our hearts and set our treasure on God and his everlasting kingdom. Where is your treasure?

**Prayer:

"Lord Jesus, you have captured our hearts and opened to us the treasures of heaven. May you always be my treasure and delight and may nothing else keep me from giving you my all."

Sources:

Lectionary for Mass for Use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, Copyright © 2001, 1998, 1997, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain © 1968, 1981, 1997, International Committee on English in the Liturgy, Inc. All rights reserved. Neither this work nor any part of it may be reproduced, distributed, performed or displayed in any medium, including electronic or digital, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

0 notes

battybat-boss · 6 years

Text

Presidents & Politicians That Told The World Who Their 'Bosses' Really Are & What They Said

This is an article that originated from Collective Evolution in 2015. We are reposting it now to bring awareness to the 'Deep State' that currently to controls and has been global politics and major institutions for a long time.

This is why the “deep state” is far from a “conspiracy theory.”

“The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country. We are governed, our minds are molded, our tastes formed, our ideas suggested, largely by men we have never heard of.” – Edward Bernays (“the father of public relations”), Propaganda, 1928 (note that Bernays' book, Propaganda, begins with the above quote).

If you told somebody 10 years ago that there existed some sort of secret group or “secret government” pulling the strings behind the scenes of government policy, international law, various global rules/regulations, and more, they would have called you a “conspiracy theorist.” Today things have changed, largely as a result of information leaked by Edward Snowden, Julian Assange, and various other whistleblowers and activists in recent years. Their bravery has shed light on the world of secrecy that's been blinding the masses since its inception.

I've mentioned this before, and I'll mention it again, did you know that the U.S. Government classifies more than 500 million pages of documents each year? Did you know that the United States has a history of government agencies existing in secret? For example, the National Security Agency (NSA) was founded in 1952, but its existence was hidden until the mid 1960's. Even more secretive is the National Reconnaissance Office, it was founded in 1960 but remained completely secret for 30 years. Then we have the entire black budget world, a world dominated by secrecy that was officially revealed by Edward Snowden a couple of years ago. This deals with what are known as “Special Access Programs.”

It's not just statements that these “high-level” people are making. It's all of the proof and evidence that goes along with it.

***You can read more about the black budget HERE***

Canadian Defence Minister Paul Hellyer

Former Minister of National Defence, Paul Hellyer, is one of Canada's best known and most controversial politicians. He was first elected in 1949, and was the youngest cabinet minister appointed to Louis S. St. Laurent's government eight years later. He held senior posts in the governments of Lester B. Pearson and Pierre E. Trudeau. He achieved the rank of senior master (Deputy Prime Minister), and went on to become the Canadian Defence Minister. He is best known for the unification of the Canadian Armed Forces, and in September 2005 he became the first person of cabinet rank in the G8 group of countries to state unequivocally that “UFOs are as real as the airplanes flying overhead.”

Here's what he had to say about the world of secrecy:

It is ironic that the U.S. would begin a devastating war, allegedly in search of weapons of mass destruction, when the most worrisome developments in this field are occurring in your own backyard. It is ironic that the U.S. should be fighting monstrously expensive wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, allegedly to bring democracy to those countries, when it itself can no longer claim to be called a democracy, when trillions, and I mean thousands of billions of dollars have been spent on projects about which both the Congress and the Commander in Chief have been kept deliberately in the dark. (source)

The 28th U.S. President Woodrow Wilson

Woodrow Wilson, an American academic, politician, and the 28th president of the United States, had this to say (among other things) in his book The New Freedom. The book also contains several other, similarly eye-opening statements:

Since I entered politics, I have chiefly had men's views confided to me privately. Some of the biggest men in the United States, in the field of commerce and manufacture, are afraid of somebody, are afraid of something. They know that there is a power somewhere so organized, so subtle, so watchful, so interlocked, so complete, so pervasive, that they had better not speak above their breath when they speak in condemnation of it. (source)

The 35th U.S. President John F. Kennedy

Here's what JFK had to say in one of his most famous speeches:

The very word “secrecy” is repugnant in a free and open society; and we are as a people inherently and historically opposed to secret societies, to secret oaths and to secret proceedings. We decided long ago that the dangers of excessive and unwarranted concealment of pertinent facts far outweighed the dangers which are cited to justify it. Even today, there is little value in opposing the threat of a closed society by imitating its arbitrary restrictions. Even today, there is little value in insuring the survival of our nation if our traditions do not survive with it. And there is very grave danger that an announced need for increased security will be seized upon by those anxious to expand its meaning to the very limits of official censorship and concealment. That I do not intend to permit to the extent that it is in my control. … For we are opposed around the world by a monolithic and ruthless conspiracy that relies primarily on covert means for expanding its sphere of influence–on infiltration instead of invasion, on subversion instead of elections, on intimidation instead of free choice, on guerrillas by night instead of armies by day. It is a system which has conscripted vast human and material resources into the building of a tightly knit, highly efficient machine that combines military, diplomatic, intelligence, economic, scientific and political operations. Its preparations are concealed, not published. Its mistakes are buried, not headlined. Its dissenters are silenced, not praised. No expenditure is questioned, no rumor is printed, no secret is revealed. (source)

John C. Calhoun, 7th Vice President of The United States

John C. Calhoun was the 7th Vice President of the United States, from 1825-1832. He was also a political theorist during the first half of the 19th century.

Here's what he had to say:

A power has risen up in the government greater than the people themselves, consisting of many, and various, and powerful interests, combined into one mass, and held together by the cohesive power of the vast surplus in the banks. (source)

This quote reminds me of a great clip from the Thrive documentary by Foster Gamble, heir to the Proctor Gamble corporation. He was groomed for the establishment, but chose a different path.

youtube

New York City Mayor John F. Hylan

John F. Hylan was Mayor of New York City from 1918-1925. He has been famously quoted as saying:

The real menace of our Republic is the invisible government, which like a giant octopus sprawls its slimy legs over our cities, states and nation … The little coterie of powerful international bankers virtually run the United States government for their own selfish purposes. They practically control both parties … [and] control the majority of the newspapers and magazines in this country. They use the columns of these papers to club into submission or drive out of office public officials who refuse to do the bidding of the powerful corrupt cliques which compose the invisible government. It operates under cover of a self-created screen [and] seizes our executive officers, legislative bodies, schools, courts, newspapers and every agency created for the public protection. (source)(source)

Senator William Jenner

A United States senator who said this to Congress in 1954:

Today the path to total dictatorship in the U.S. can be laid by strictly legal means … We have a well-organized political-action group in this country, determined to destroy our Constitution and establish a one-party state … It operates secretly, silently, continuously to transform our Government … This ruthless power-seeking elite is a disease of our century… This group … is answerable neither to the President, the Congress, nor the courts. It is practically irremovable. (source)

Senator Daniel K. Inouye

Inouye was the highest ranking Asian-American politician in United States history, serving the democratic party from 1963 until his death in 2012.

There exists a shadowy government with its own Air Force, its own Navy, its own fundraising mechanism, and the ability to pursue its own ideas of the national interest, free from all checks and balances, and free from the law itself. (source)

34th U.S. President And 5 Star General, Dwight Eisenhower

In his farewell address to the nation, president Eisenhower offered these words of caution:

In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists, and will persist. … Only an alert and knowledgeable citizenry can compel the proper meshing of the huge industrial and military machinery of defence with our peaceful message and goals. (source)

This speech is relevant to share here, because the disastrous rise of misplaced power within the military industrial complex has indeed occurred…

Benjamin Disraeli, First British MP

The world is governed by very different personages to what is imagined by those who are not behind the scenes. (Coningsby, Book 4, Chap. 15.) – Page 131

26th U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt

President Roosevelt revealed this information:

“Political parties exist to secure responsible government and to execute the will of the people. From these great staffs, both of the old parties have ganged aside. Instead of instruments to promote the general welfare they have become the tools of corrupt interests which use them in martialling [sic] to serve their selfish purposes. Behind the ostensible government sits enthroned an invisible government owing no allegiance and acknowledging no responsibility to the people. To destroy this invisible government, to befoul the unholy alliance between corrupt business and corrupt politics is the first task of the statesmanship of the day. Unhampered by tradition, uncorrupted by power, undismayed by the magnitude of the task, the new party offers itself as the instrument of the people, to sweep away old abuses, to build a new and nobler government.” (source)

The list of quotes is very large and could fill a number of pages, so I will stop there.

0 notes

tpanan · 8 years

Text

My Monday Daily Blessings

February 27, 2017

Be still quiet your heart and mind, the LORD is here, loving you talking to you...........

Monday of the Eighth Week in Ordinary Time (Catholic Observance)

First Reading: Sirach 17:20-24

To the penitent God provides a way back, he encourages those who are losing hope and has chosen for them the lot of truth. Return to him and give up sin, pray to the LORD and make your offenses few. Turn again to the Most High and away from your sin, hate intensely what he loathes, and know the justice and judgments of God, Stand firm in the way set before you, in prayer to the Most High God. Who in the nether world can glorify the Most High in place of the living who offer their praise? Dwell no longer in the error of the ungodly, but offer your praise before death. No more can the dead give praise than those who have never lived; You who are alive and well shall praise and glorify God in his mercies. How great the mercy of the LORD, his forgiveness of those who return to him!

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 32:1-2, 5-6, 7

"Let the just exult and rejoice in the LORD."

Verse before the Gospel: 2 For 8:9

Alleluia, Alleluia

"Jesus Christ became poor although he was rich, so that by his poverty you might become rich."

Alleluia, Alleluia,

Gospel: Mark 10:17-27

He replied and said to him, "Teacher, all of these I have observed from my youth." Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, "You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." At that statement, his face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions. Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, "How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the Kingdom of God!" The disciples were amazed at his words.So Jesus again said to them in reply, "Children, how hard it is to enter the Kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God." They were exceedingly astonished and said among themselves, "Then who can be saved?" Jesus looked at them and said, "For men it is impossible, but not for God. All things are possible for God."

**Meditation:

What gives hope and satisfaction to our desire for happiness and security? A young man who had the best the world could offer - wealth and security - came to Jesus because he lacked one thing. He wanted the kind of lasting peace and happiness which money could not buy him. The answer he got, however, was not what he was looking for. He protested that he kept all the commandments - but Jesus spoke to the trouble in his heart. One thing kept him from giving himself whole-heartedly to God. While he lacked nothing in material goods, he was nonetheless possessive of what he had. He placed his hope and security in what he possessed. So when Jesus challenged him to make God his one true possession and treasure, he became sad.

The priceless treasure of God's kingdom Those who are generous towards God and towards their neighbor find that they cannot outmatch God in his generosity towards us. God blesses us with the priceless treasures of his kingdom - freedom from fear and the griping power of sin, selfishness and pride which block his love and grace in our lives; freedom from loneliness, isolation and rejection which keep his children from living together in love, peace, and unity; and freedom from hopelessness, despair, and disillusionment which blind our vision of God's power to heal every hurt, bind every wound, and remove every blemish which mar the image of God within us. God offers us treasure which money cannot buy. He alone can truly satisfy the deepest longing and desires of our heart. Are you willing to part with anything that might keep you from seeking true joy with Jesus? Why does Jesus issue such a strong warning to the rich (as well as to the rest of us who desire to be rich)? Was he really against wealth? We know that Jesus was not opposed to wealth per se, nor was he opposed to the wealthy. He had many friends who were well-to-do, including some notorious tax collectors! One even became an apostle! Jesus' warning reiterated the teaching of the Old Testament wisdom: Better is a poor man who walks in his integrity than a rich man who is perverse in his ways(Proverbs 28:6; see also Psalm 37:16). Do not wear yourself out to get rich; be wise enough to desist (Proverbs 23:4).

Where do we find true security? Jesus seems to say that it is nearly impossible for the rich to live as citizens of God's kingdom. The camel was regarded as the largest animal in Palestine. The "eye of the needle" could be interpreted quite literally or it could figuratively describe the narrow and low gate of the city walls which was used by travelers when the larger public gate was locked after dark. A normal sized man had to "lower" himself to enter that gate. A camel would literally have to knell and crawl through it. Why is Jesus so cautious about wealth? Wealth can make us falsely independent. The church at Laodicea was warned about their attitude towards wealth and a false sense of security: "For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing" (Revelation 3:17). Wealth can also lead us into hurtful desires and selfishness (see 1 Timothy 6:9-10). Look at the lesson Jesus gave about the rich man and his sons who refused to aid the poor man Lazarus (see Luke 16:19ff). They also neglected to serve God.

**Prayer:

"Lord Jesus, you have captured our hearts and opened to us the treasures of heaven. May you always be my treasure and delight and may nothing else keep me from giving you my all." AMEN.

Sources:

0 notes