#but i started to learn more hebrew because why not complicate my life even more

[averyevilunicorn]

after several years in england, preparing for the first journey to that other place (cambridge, what else?)... i should really maybe get a phone that is for more than just phone calls, because my sense of disorientation could use more than just hastily sketched maps of the ‘it seem that this is the way i can get to the faculty of english but i bet that the reality will surprise me yet again’ sort

but anyway. hooray for a conference where i don’t actually have to speak, some sightseeing and hopefully having enough time to finish writing that scarily awful chapter of what is very loosely called ‘my thesis’

back on sunday, if i don’t get lost.

(ha.)

[booksandwords]

Invision by Sherrilyn McQueen

Series: Chronicles of Nick, #7 Read time: 1 Day Rating: 5/5

The quote: “Well, aren’t you a cheeky one?” “So says my father. It’s ever a fault of mine that I don’t know my place. But who better to know my place than I, says I? And who so better to determine it? For I will not be hemmed in by anyone else’s expectations. This is my life, such as it is. And it will be lived under my rules so long as I have it.” — Caleb Malphas & Lilliana

I am not tagging this with a spoiler warning but read on at your own risk. Invision (and this review) contain spoilers for the wider Dark-Hunter verse.

Let's start with something important to those reading Chronicles of Nick and The Dark Hunter Universe. I'm not sure where Sherri is up to in her story of Jaden in the DH books (I'm picking and choosing my way through them), but I know Jaden is an upcoming book that should lay his story bare. Invision may contain massive spoilers for Jaden's book. That reason only Jared knows? Yeah, that is in here and that piece of lore is unlikely to change between the two. Most of the spoilers I tag in this review are relevant to not just Invision but Jaden. If you want to go into Jaden's story without prior knowledge do not read Invision. And I apologise in advance this review gets quite long.

This is another book with a whole lot of story to tell. And it leads well into Intensity, the last book of the series. Well may not be the right word it ends on a cliffhanger. There is a lot of lore added, we finally get an explanation of pith points in a way that makes sense. We meet some new characters and learn a lot pf backstory on some of the characters that we already knew. But there is a lot of time spent on family and found family as is normal. It turns out that even less of the characters than we thought are strictly human. I enjoyed this a lot it helps me understand a lot more and I live for Sherri's lore.

My queen is back. Hello, my beloved Lilliana. Never has a character so long dead had such a lasting and irrefutable impact on a series while barely appearing. Xevikan's Myone is also a powerful woman. We finally find out how Caleb met Lilliana met. Including the wonderful exchange "Are all demons as gigantic as you?" "Depends on the species." "Are all women as brave as you?" "Depends on the species." (Lilliana & Caleb Malphas, p62). She chose his name because of its meaning "the faithful, fearless warrior who defends what he believes with everything he has" (Lilliana, p66), which isn't far off the Hebrew meaning. Myone was Xev's anchor his reason for existence the reason he was willing to do so much. His story isn't this dissimilar to Braiths in a way. Blessedly the brothers are back on speaking terms.

Book random dump

Reading Cay openly admit brotherhood with Xev is something I needed to see and made me smile.

"I think I know now why the gods made the two of you so incredibly hot. You'd be insufferable otherwise"  Kody (p.85) about Caleb and Nick. I mean I can totally see why people tell Kody to ask her other boyfriend. She stopped pretending a while back.

I like the choice to interchange Kody and Nyira now. But what is Nyira? It doesn't appear to be a name.

This is the first time I've seen any indication that Simi will get her own story.  Kody knows who her husband will be. There were only three options in the room at that point. Jaden, Xev or Caleb. All will exist is the DH universe. Jaden needs good in his life. I'll take that and run.

Cadegan is more complicated than I thought. In his bio he calls Thorn his lost brother, Noir gives aways his parentage Thorn is his father. Well, Son of No One just got bumped up my tbr.

Is this the first time we've heard Caleb's full designation? Esme Daeve. Like Nick thrives on fights, rage.

Bout time we got a demon hunter. Didn't expect that character though.

“He was a chaos god, Nick. The god of blood disease, fire, plagues, famine, violent death, fear, and destruction.” (Caleb p.175) Good lord Xev. You really did get all the fun stuff, and he's the Malachai's blood slave.

As a side point, I'm adding a could of pieces of general tidbits because I keep forgetting them.

The six generals of the ušumgallu. Grim, Bane and Laguerre who live permanently earthside. The others who had to be called, Xevikan, Livia and Yrre.

Nick's six generals (chosen at the end of Instinct). "Nashira. Xev. Dagon. Aeron. Kody. Caleb." Narshira is the yōkai formerly trapped in Nick's Grimoire. Aeron the forgotten son of the Morrígan. Dagon, son of Noir and Hekate, aided Lycaon to create the Were-hunters.

The six primal gods. Those of the light; Razer, Cam and Verlyn (aka Jaden). Those of the dark; Noir, Azure and Braith. Braith is complicated, while she aligns to the dark she is more grey. Two of the primary gods are missing; Razer and Braith. Verlyn was captured. Making me wonder... is Razer in play already and just not revealing his identity. Cam is Menyara, Verlyn is Jaden both are known in DH but their identities aren't known.

So... Parentage. Who is related to who is a big deal in the CoN series. But relatives are power and mostly seem to be an indicator of where your allegiance should lie. There is a theme that appears of the abandoned half children acting out of spite for one parent at least until they find themselves. As Xev puts it “Born of both sides. Forever lured between them. Never trusted by either, and cursed by both.” (p.287).  Nick's line is particularly important. Did anyone else not realise that Xev was Nick's Grandfather during that wonderful bomb drop during Chapter 8 of Instinct? I reread it knowing the truth and yeah the indication is there. Mostly in the way he looks at Cherise, maybe she favours Myone more than we know and in the way he speaks. But it isn't said. And I really think it needed to be. In light of this and other revelations halfway through Invision, I decided I needed to make a small family tree because good lord this should not be that complicated but it feels like it is. I think there are minor allusions to Nick's tree somehow being connected to Kody's (through the primordials) but I can't figure it out. I'm writing this after I binge-read Intensity which adds a whole lot more so I'm adding it to that review instead. Beware spoilers if you go there.

One last thing from Dream Warrior... “I’m helping to train the new Malachai and I just wanted to know something.” “That is?” “Does anyone else know you’re related to him?” (Jared and M'Adoc, p.314). By Dream Warrior Nick is in his mid-twenties and everyone knows he's the Malachai. My question which is not answered there. Does Jared know? He's powerful and Nick is his blood he should be able to pick it. I've always thought Dark Hunter was the Ambrose timeline but I don't think it is. Theoretically, M'Adoc doesn't exist in that timeline.

God this review is long. I knew that anyway. My Goodreads review does have the worst of the potential Dark-Hunter spoilers, they relate to Jaden.

[hopeless-nostalgiac]

with all appliances and means to boot: ncis/tiva fic

for this challenge, @loudlooks​ requested Tiva + "I didn't know you could do that." thank you for the inspiration!! *hugs*

set summer between S3-4 w/ team dynamics & tiva (a LOT of tiva—they took over the fic, basically, and I’m not sorry about it) 

also, this turned out like eight times longer than I expected & was the most fun and freeing thing I’ve worked on in years, so

enjoy:) 

FFN

“I didn’t know you could do that!” 

McGee’s voice filtered over news-chattering televisions, incessantly ringing phones, and chicken-clacking keyboards to reach Tony at his desk. 

“There was no reason to mention it earlier. It is not exactly a useful skill, my friend.” Ziva’s full-throated chuckles were wind chimes amidst the office drudgery.

Tony shook off the eruption of gooseflesh on his arms. It was way too early for that. And McGee was babbling again.

“I’ve just never met someone in real life who could do it.”

“Really?!”

A boom of shared laughter enveloped them.

Glancing at the digital read-out on his monitor, Tony silently cheered. 9:07. Totally busted. Then he pretended to be busy with paperwork, so his attention was occupied ahead of time. 

The agents’ conversation lowered until it faded completely, coinciding with their entrance into the squadroom.

Tony had that effect on them now. The tables, as the saying went, had turned. They were the class troublemakers to his super-strict teacher. They, the unruly cadets, and he, the veteran drill sergeant. They were Agents; he was Boss. 

“Agent McGee. Officer David. You’re late.” 

McGee froze while swinging around his desk. Ziva froze after dropping her gear. Tony continued to stare yet not see the file in front of him, but he didn’t need visual confirmation to know the teammates were exchanging glances, coordinating their plan of counterattack. 

“Well, technically we were in the building on time.” The opening lob courtesy of McGee. 

“Technically, that’s not good enough, McTardy.”

“It was when you were wearing our shoes.” 

Tony fought an eye roll. “You can’t throw me off the scent with a well-timed idiom blunder, Officer David.” 

“Can’t I, Tony?” Ziva’s voice was louder, closer to him. 

Out of his peripheral vision, he spied her leaning on the divider between their workspaces. So close now, he caught a whiff of her lavender mint shampoo as she flicked at a cascade of curls that had fallen over her shoulder. If this was their strategy, well, it wasn’t the worst angle. 

But Tony DiNozzo was better. 

“No, you can’t,” he reiterated, finally gracing each of them in turn with his steady gaze. Calm, yet intense. Everything rumbling beneath the surface. “And it’s Agent DiNozzo. Or Boss.” 

Ziva stared back, golden-brown eyes matching his intensity, but not the calm. She rattled off a string of heated Hebrew, ending with a sharp snap of her teeth before spinning around on her heel and dropping heavily into her desk chair.  

Crazy chick.

“So, anyway. Just to be clear: If you’re here after me, you’re late. Period.” Tony slapped a case folder closed, causing his desk to tremble; he could emphasize his words, too. “For today, you can make amends by telling me whatever it is McGee didn’t know Ziva could do. I’m thinking it involves lots of stretching, but if there’s a video game reference, leave it out. Go!” 

And like that, authority forfeited for curiosity. 

McGee did roll his eyes and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like waste of time under his breath. Ziva scoffed, typing noisily at her computer and decidedly not looking in Tony’s direction. 

“That’s an order.” Even he didn’t buy the command. 

9:10. The day was shot. 

. . . 

If someone asked Tony how his first weeks as leader of MCRT were going, he’d say, “Good, considering the circumstances,” with a flash of white teeth. He didn’t like to lose face, sure, but he was pretty confident it was the truth, too.

Because when your boss quit and ran off to Mexico, leaving you in charge of a team that for years affectionately regarded you as The Class Clown, the circumstances weren’t on your side and ‘good’ was the most you could hope for.

. . . 

“What did you do?” 

Passing through the automatic doors, Tony came up short—as much due to the always assaulting antiseptic stench as the accusation. “Why do you assume I did something wrong? Can’t I come see my favorite Autopsy Gremlin with no ulterior motive?” 

“Sure you can,” Palmer called from the freezer section, where he was sliding a corpse home. “But I already talked to Abby, who talked to McGee.” 

Fantastic.

“So before, with the ‘what did you do?’...that was kind of redundant, huh?”

“Guess so.” A dorky chortle escaped the assistant. “I mean, seriously, they were only late by a couple minutes, Tony. Sorry, Agent DiNozzo.” Another hiccup of laughter. 

Great. Just great. 

“Gee, I was hoping I could escape some of the ridicule down here....” Tony pressed his palms against the cold steel of an autopsy table, shoulders hunched, depositing weight into the defeated stance. All his course-correcting tactics, including buying his team lunch, had done little to reverse the morning’s death blow. McGee and Ziva were ignoring him aside for a lone campfire, and then their interactions were clipped—aggressively so where the ex-assassin was concerned. Now the damage was spreading to the sub-basement, it seemed. 

“Look on the bright side, you’re the team leader. It’s what you’ve always wanted, right?” Palmer mirrored Tony on the other end of the table, adjusting his glasses before adding, “This is a bump in the road, but no one ever achieved greatness without first overcoming resistance.” 

“That’s wise, Palmer. For a man who talks to the dead. You wouldn’t happen to know—”

“What McGee didn’t know Ziva could do?” 

Tony blinked. Maybe they’d been underestimating the Autopsy Gremlin all along. “Yeah. Know anything about it?” 

“It’s not a big deal. We were at the bar last night and first the waitress got Abby’s drink order mixed up, but it was super busy, so I suggested that—”

“Sometime today, Palmer.” 

“Well, it turns out Ziva can knot a cherry stem with her tongue, and then...” 

Oh, it was more wondrous than he’d guessed (and that list was long).

Palmer’s rambling dissolved to the background of Tony’s thoughts. He couldn’t get to the audacity of everyone going out for drinks without him because the dexterity of Ziva’s tongue was front and center. As he was recently familiarized with that very tongue and the talented mouth it resided in, it was all too easy to lose himself in a sexy daydream of the alleged feat.

Until he remembered how pissed she was at him. Bubble, burst. 

. . .

If someone asked Tony how his first weeks sleeping with Ziva, his former partner and current subordinate, were going, he’d say, “What? I’m not—we’re not—how dare—what?!” 

Because when your boss quit and ran off to Mexico, some of his rules haunted you. 

. . . 

“Rough day?”

Tony looked up right away. It was best not to play games with the director, who emerged stealthily in the dim, empty squadroom. He’d dismissed McGee and Ziva at regular quitting time, unable to make eye contact with either of them—for different reasons—but stayed behind to catch up on last week’s case reports. Him, voluntarily completing paperwork. 

Rough was an understatement.  

“I see my shortcomings are making the rounds.” 

Jenny’s smile was beautifitic, the one she wore during news interviews. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t seeking it out. I was speaking to Ducky on a separate matter, and he happened to mention talking with Mr. Palmer, who—”

“Got the scoop from Abby because McGee blabbed to her,” Tony finished, barely restrained. “Yeah, I’m well acquainted with the watercooler daisy chain.” 

It didn’t slip his notice that Ziva was the missing link. The text he’d started writing to her the second she disappeared through the elevator doors was unfinished and unsent on his phone. 

“Did you also hear they went for drinks after work without inviting me?” It came out as a whine.

Jenny didn’t mask her amusement. “Did you always invite Gibbs for drinks? No, because he was your boss and you were probably venting about him.”

Touché.

“I’m trying, ma’am.” This he intoned with every fiber of professionalism and sincerity he could summon in the moment. The problem was that this wasn’t his first mistake since taking over—wouldn’t be the last—but he was trying. He wanted that noted. Also, there was an insane learning curve, and yes, big shoes to fill. Could he be blamed for that?

The redhead stepped forward, switching her smile for an expression of...not quite pity. Understanding? “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Robin Hood: Men in Tights?” 

“Shakespeare.” Jenny chuckled, her fair eyes sparkling in the light of his desk lamp. Tony could see why Gibbs was once head-over-heels for her, back when they were partners. He knew something of those complicated emotions, of which the text draft on his phone contained damning evidence. 

“It’s the nature of being in charge,” she continued. “You’re going to have crappy days and plenty of nights when you can’t sleep. My advice, from experience? When you screw up, apologize and do better next time.”  

“Isn’t that a sign of weakness?” It was a reflex, after so many years. 

Jenny caught his eye and held it. “No. It’s a sign of respect.” 

. . .

He was sober when he showed up on her doorstep. Stopping off for some liquid courage briefly flitted through his brain, but flitted out just as quickly. McGee, he could buy a NutterButter, eat some humble pie himself. All would be cool again. Ziva was a different story. 

Namely, a story with a lot of sex in it, and it’d barely been a month yet. That he spent a large portion of the day envisioning her tongue doing erotic dances with a red cherry stem wasn’t helping. It also further convinced him of a brutal truth: Things were changing. Things had already changed. 

Ziva, outlined by the glow from inside the apartment, crossed her arms over a baggy workout t-shirt. Curls piled in a messy bun. It was Tuesday, kickboxing night. “If you are here for a booty call, you will be sorely disappointed.” Each word was wrapped in her delicious Israeli accent, momentarily distracting him from their sum meaning.

He’d expected as much.

“See, when you want to get them right…” Tony’s attempted humor and roguish smile failed to earn him leniency. 

“Goodnight, Boss.”

The door hurtled toward him, closing on his chance to repent—and more than that, his chance with her. His left hand flew up, catching the wood with a few inches to spare. 

“Hey, whoa. Wait. I’m here to apologize, all right?” Breath whooshed in and out of him; sweat beaded instantly on his forehead.  

Okay, so it wasn’t just about the sex. He was enamored with her, and it hadn’t been a full month yet.

Ziva yanked the door back, though the arrangement of her features maintained dubious feelings. She raised her eyebrows in a way that said, Yes, and?

“I was an idiot, Ziva.”

A corner of her delicate mouth pulsed. “Good start.”

The heaviness in his chest released. He dared another smile, softer-gentler this time, and the door stayed open. “I was too hard on you and McGee.”

“You will apologize to him as well, yes?”

“Yes. McSweetTooth will wet himself with glee, I’m sure of it.” Tony shuffled his feet, bringing him onto her brown doormat, never dropping her gaze. “But seriously, Ziva, I know I messed up, especially, you know...I mean, you should be able to call the guy you’re sleeping with by his first name, even if he’s your boss. That is,” he sheepishly tagged on, “if I’m still the guy you’re sleeping with, after today.”

For a bloated handful of seconds, Ziva froze, as she had that morning in the squadroom. Eyes like lasers, drilling through him. It lasted long enough for doubts to creep in. Then—

“Are you?”

So simple, but coupled with her head tilted to expose honeyed neck, her popped knee, and the slight part of her plumped lips, the challenge was clearly set for him. 

This would be fun. 

Tony launched over the doorway, literally sweeping Ziva off her feet as he plowed into the apartment. An honest-to-goodness squeal filled his ears, then that wind-chime laugh took over and his knees wobbled in their sockets—nevermind her 100-something pounds hanging on his torso. 

It was the first time he’d carried her this way—any way—but her arms and legs wrapped around his body with an ease he would have analyzed if not for the supple give of her breasts against his chest, or her frizzy hair tickling his chin. Her mouth alternated between whispering the dirtiest promises in his ear and nibbling on his neck. Thoughts would have to wait. 

How they shut the front door, how they maneuvered the hallway to her bedroom, how they undressed and (eventually) found the bed was a haze of details that didn’t matter. The shudder that coursed through her at his every touch, mattered. The inverted bridge her back made when his lips and tongue met her center, mattered. His name on a gasp, woven into a sigh, lifted to a shout...

In this area, Tony DiNozzo excelled. He was damn well going to prove it. 

. . . 

It took two rounds to sate her. The first go was part of the apology; the second was because he had a young, hot lover who could run eight miles at the crack of dawn, kickbox for an hour after work, and still have energetic sex with him—twice. Who wouldn’t take advantage of that? 

“Guess I got that booty call after all.” He love-tapped her ass, which was bare to the air. He braced for retaliation. 

None came.

Hair mussed and cheeks flushed, Ziva glanced over, fixing him in her line of sight. A smirk hiked up the side of her mouth not buried in the pillow. “As did I, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Never going to live that down, am I?”

“Give it a few months.” Her smirk widened as her eyelids drooped, each blink taking longer and longer to pull back up. 

. . .

They dozed together in the dark of her bedroom. They weren’t cuddlers, per se. Their connections left them too sensitive, sticky and unspooled. They stayed close, though. Touching random pieces of her to him, him to her. His head resting on her bicep curled closest to the mattress. Her ankle molded to the arch of his foot. Sometimes as conventional as their hands laid one atop the other, fingers loose. 

. . . 

He began talking while they ate cereal in the kitchen at quarter to eleven. He was talking as she cleaned and put away their dishes and led him to the front room, his body going where she steered and nudged. What he voiced was nothing new to either of them. All the same issues that overwhelmed him on a cool May night, that propelled him to Ziva’s door in what would become a habit. He was drowning; she was refuge. 

For that, and so many other reasons, he trusted her without question. 

Ziva allowed him to talk now because that was how he worked out problems. They both knew that, too. 

“I think it comes down to the fact that...I don’t know how to be a team leader that isn’t Gibbs.” The admission floated and settled on the sofa cushion between them. It wasn’t often they said his name anymore. The memory was sore to the touch. 

“We have been over this, yes?” Ziva tossed a leg across his lap, the other tucked beneath her. He immediately claimed the tanned skin of her thigh, rolling it under his hands. “This is a chance to be your type of leader, make your own rules.” 

“Every time I do that, it blows up in my face.”

“Not every time,” she corrected, her eyes darting to his lips and lingering. 

His heart rate ticked up. Very true. They might not have happened if Gibbs hadn’t left. But… “We’re one thing, Ziva. The team is another.”   

She turned his chin with her hand, locking his gaze with her steady and fervent stare. An imposing combination. “Tony, you either keep trying or you quit, just like Gibbs. What will it be?” 

It was Tony’s turn to sneak a not-so-subtle glance at her lips. When she put it like that, the answer was undebatable. What he’d told Jenny wasn’t a lie. And giving up wasn’t an option. 

Didn’t mean he’d hand her the win that easily. 

“How about we make a deal?” While his eyebrows waggled, his hands roamed farther than her thigh. “I persevere with the team leader thing. In exchange, you show off your fancy cherry stem tying prowess for me.” 

Her mouth gaped, eyes narrowing. “Who told you?”

“Palmer. The guy’s actually not a bad sounding board.” He’d have to remember that for future thorny cases. 

Ziva deflected, “I do not have any cherries in the fridge.”

Tony returned, “That wouldn’t stop a true parlor trick magician like yourself.”

Her face reformed in an expression that always intrigued him. A cat devising the perfect trap for her prey. It didn’t surprise him when she stretched her leg out, straddling his lap properly. He circled her low back, drawing her hips over him and generating a spark of friction. There was extra verve in her fingers burrowing the short hairs at his nape, tipping his head upwards. 

“You must really want me to—”

Ziva covered his lips with hers, swallowing his words as they melted to moans. Instead of continuing hot and heavy, everything slowed. Each kiss long and needy, a continuous caress. Her heady spice invaded his senses. The tip of her tongue slipped by his teeth, running the roof of his mouth before pushing in further.

Tony’s spine straightened at the sensation of tongue against tongue, the rough texture, the strokes and flicks. He gripped whatever part of her was in his reach, would likely leave marks. She didn’t flinch. She was all around him, practically tying him in a knot. 

It was exactly how he imagined it, but also superior.

He was smiling when they broke apart, breath imperative for them both. “Your ingenuity is an inspiration, Ms. David.” 

Ziva winked, leaning forward to kiss him again, a casual closed-lipped peck in the wake of such an intimate encounter. And he knew, no matter what came of leading the team, he wanted this—them—to survive. 

“Now you must honor your part of the deal, Tony.” 

“Whatever you say,” he agreed, flipping her onto the cushion and following her down for round three.

. . .

The next day, Tony waited at his car in the parking lot for his team to arrive. He walked into the building with them, and didn’t check the clock in the mornings ever again. 

He apologized to McGee, which just freaked out the newly-appointed Senior Field Agent. As Tony predicted, the Nutter Butter made all the difference. 

By the end of the week, he brought Special Agent Lee onto the team because there was symmetry in four and they needed a probie to act as a buffer. Plus, she was good at meeting case report deadlines and Tony wasn’t.

He doubled-up on campfires and went to Jenny for advice more often. Palmer, too. 

The team went out for drinks, occasionally inviting him to join. Occasionally not. 

A month later, he and Ziva started keeping their love in each other’s hearts along with spare clothes in one another’s dressers. Soon, there would be no sense hiding them anymore. 

And when someone asked Tony how leading his own team was going, he said, “Our results speak for themselves,” and meant it. 

Because when your boss quit and ran off to Mexico, leaving you in charge, you wore the crown and made it your own. 

fin

[sleepless-streetss]

I remember my childhood in flashes. Bluebonnets in the park field, jumping over daisys and wildflowers that always seemed to be my favorites. Picnics with my mother, who consistently called me her wild hair. My grandmother had a similar name for me. I don't know how to spell the Hebrew version, but it translates simply to "wandering child." This is what she called me the day that she died. I wonder if she knew I'm not all that adventurous, but in my grandmother's eyes, I will always be wild. In my mother's eyes, I will always be stubborn. I have to question whether these are good traits, but they have stuck with me throughout my entire life. Forever changing, but still the same rebellious youth internally. Still a small, brave young girl. Boldly glaring into the face of her future, daring it to block her in some way. Sometimes she comes out of hiding. I can see her bouncing through that field I still walk to today more often than not. Every day. It's so funny that memories like those days will last my entire lifetime. Noncomplicated days in the sun with my mother braiding my hair, singing to me. I wish I could live in these memories. Savor the sweet innocence just a little more, the sun on my skin, not a single problem in the world. Little did I know, my mother's story was even more complicated than mine would end up being. But she never showed me that. Always strong. Always tough. My mother was skilled in the art of persuading the world that everything was constantly beautiful. For the most part, it was. She made it that way. I think that's why we are so close, and also why when we fight, it feels as if half of my body doesn't belong to the other, like I have a paper cut straight down the middle. 

My older sisters are like my mother in some ways, but one is brave, while the other is not. I think that is why I am so angry with one of them currently. I feel sorry for her. I wish her well, but I do not have the energy to pretend life is perfect all of the time, and judging me won't make her life anymore so than she pretends it is. I am my mother's daughter, though, and with that in mind, I have trouble holding my tongue. She didn't really appreciate hearing the truth. I'm not sorry I said something. She has hidden behind the curtain of whoever is in charge of her life for far too long, but she is a fantastic mother, and if that makes her happy, so be it. She appears to wear the mask of prosperity well. I, for one, wish she would just take it off and be my sister again. It hurts that she doesn't know me. She took all of the traits of stealth and distance that she could, and she uses them like they are the only ones that matter. 

My grandmother was even more skilled at acting. I miss her every day. This past summer, spending every day that I could at her house, carrying her, loving her, staying up all night with her sometimes, brought me closer to God than I had ever been. She spent countless hours trying to teach me what she could of life and love before she went. She knew more about me than most people do, and for that, I am thankful. Her last lesson to me was the easiest of all, and at this point, she had started to speak mainly in Hebrew to show me as much of our family history as she could, and maybe that's why it was so easy because I could not understand most of it. But I'll share what I did take from it. She told me to love as deeply as I could, to hold on to the people and the things I am passionate about, and never to stop wandering. This was our final conversation. The next day she would call me my childhood nickname, and she would go in peace. 

How did I go from that kid to this? Will I end up like these women, or will I break the mold? Will I raise a stubborn daughter, and will I be as good as they were as a mother? Will I be a good actress? Will she know if I am not? I have so many questions, but I think I also have the answers within myself. I guess writing it down might help. So here goes nothing. I'm going to write down a memory a day to go with my journal entries. I don't want to forget anything; I want to learn from them all. I don’t want the mask. 

[zamancollective]

Nationalist Mythologies and the False Friendship of Nostalgia

By Mirushe Zylali

Additional Writing by Sophie Levy

What is a mythology?

Through mythology, one locates oneself within history and creates a sense of continuity between the past, present, and future.

The impulse to place oneself in a historical continuum is understandable, especially within postcolonial contexts. For Europeans, myths provide a basis of identity for the nation-state. For Euro-colonized peoples, a desire to return to a pre-colonial body politic often becomes integral to liberation movements, and later, becomes a method of garnering mass popular support for a burgeoning post-imperialist nation-state. Postcolonial mythologies are often manifestations of an emotionally-tinged hunger for a life that does not ache of colonialism.

Mythology has a vital role in legitimizing the construction of modern ethnonationalist states and their respective languages, cultures, and propaganda systems.  When “British India” was cleaved in two, Pakistan adopted an alphabetic script based on Arabic, while India adopted a script based on Sanskrit, though similarities abound between spoken dialects in the subcontinent’s northern regions. To this day, India’s far-right Hindu nationalists are working to incorporate more words derived from Vedic Sanskrit into modern Hindi, while nationalist Pakistanis do the same with Islamic terminology derived from Arabic.

In his construction of the Albanian nation-state, Enver Hoxha outlawed religion and claimed that modern Albanians descended from ancient Illyrian tribes. Modern Turks assert that they are heirs to the Ottoman Empire established by Byzantine tribes over 700 years ago. During WWII, German Nazis even claimed to be descended from Aryans, somehow also insisting upon their origins in the lost city of Atlantis, and repurposed the swastika, a Hindu symbol, to this aim. Later in the twentieth century, Iranian nationalist groups would adopt a link to this “superior” Aryan race in order to incite violence against ethnic minorities within Iran, such as Jews and Kurds. Saddam Hussein insisted upon modern Iraqis’ link to the people and culture of ancient Babylonia in building his autocratic government - just as the Pahlavi Shahs of Iran belabored their connection to Darius’ pre-Islamic empire.

Evidently, it has been a nation-building tactic of autocratic regimes across Europe and Asia to emphasize links between a current population and an ancient culture or mythology. Here, I take time to deconstruct why this method is somewhat futile.

Iraqis, for instance, cannot claim direct historical continuity with Babylonia because its religion-and the way of life it spurred- has not been maintained since the fall of Babylon in 539. Since then, cultural diffusion, conquest, and the shifting borders of empires have made Iraq a thoroughly Arab nation-state, notwithstanding the presence of non-Arab ethnic minorities.

Victors often write what history survives. What records exist of the processes of the Persian and Arab conquerors who altered the culture of ancient Mesopotamia? One could infer that those attempting to keep up the ‘old ways’ would have been brutalized or disenfranchised by their new conquerors. Neither the ethnic composition nor the historical legacy of ancient life in present-day Iraq is continuous with those who live there today, and the recovery of such a culture would be nearly impossible. But why would anyone want to undertake such a task in the first place?

the Eagle of Saladin - often used as a symbol of Ba’athist ideology.

Let us follow the logic of this desire for belonging. A branch of my mother’s family hails from Al-Andalus. What would an ‘un-exiling’ of ourselves look like? With very few Spanish Jews left in Spain, and others having fled to places such as Turkey, Greece, the Americas, the Balkans, and Morocco, which of them can lay a true claim to the “authentic” ancestry that would provide a basis for such a social movement? Do I learn from the Jews of Tangier, Fez, and southern Spain, who would have fallen within the borders of the Umayyad Empire? No. Their cultures, changed by hundreds of years of innovation, diffusion, and empire, may barely resemble our ancestors’ shared Andalusian moment. I can enjoy camaraderie with them for what we share, but to claim a singular flashpoint of origin for all of us, thus suggesting that we share a contemporary ‘sameness’ and deny such unique facets of our respective cultures would do a deep disservice to all of us.

Often intentionally, mythos functions to create ‘out’ groups and ‘Others’, consolidating power for the in-group as they build a new state. The Other can even be transformed into an inhuman creature. The Kurd, at times racialized as white for the purposes of the Iraqi, Syrian, or Turkish imagination, becomes a foreign interloper, even as Muslim Kurds may discriminate against Ezidis, Kurdish Jews, and Kurdish Christians for similar reasons. Within the imagination of the previously-colonized subject, the Jew can stand in as a figure of corrupting European influence, or the Jew can stand in as the backward Other not yet converted to the dominant religion or way of life of whichever empire. The same goes for Christians in southwestern Asia who maintain knowledge of spoken and written Coptic or Syriac. Often, by the logic of Muslim Arab in-groups, Arab Jews aren’t not Arabs. Rather, they just aren’t the right type of Arab. It is difficult to build a pluralistic nationalist movement; just look at the Ba’athist party.

European Zionists explored the idea of land-bound, Jewish nationalism as early as the 1800s. The Haskalah, or “Jewish Enlightenment” that began in the eighteenth century, had already kick-started the initiative to revitalize Hebrew as the lingua franca of the Jewish world. Zionists then harnessed Hebrew’s potential for Jewish unification in their development of a formalized national consciousness.

It is not a coincidence that Zionism’s genesis resembles that of other European nationalisms. Today, its proponents often overlook the fact that Zionists thinkers and leaders formed pragmatic alliances with European colonialists in an effort to solve the Jewish Question or gain a reputation as a “modernized” people. Though a historical and religious Jewish connection to Israel/Palestine cannot be denied, Theodore Herzl, the founder of modern Zionism, was just as willing to establish a “Jewish Nation-State” in what is modern-day Ghana or Argentina. He was desperate to secure any place to use as a safe haven for Jews.  Even as he cast Jews as Oriental Others in the eyes of gentile Europeans, he was playing by the rules of Western colonialists as if he were one of them.

Zionism, then, is a complicated nationalism in that it has to reconcile an orientalized, ancient Jewish mythology with a “modernized” European character. This cognitive dissonance within the Zionist national consciousness has visibly influenced the vocabulary of mainstream modern Hebrew, as developed by Eliezer Ben-Yehuda. On one hand, Hebrew’s newfound role in early Zionist settlements as a more broadly and colloquially-spoken language represents the revival of an ancient language, culture, and peoplehood. It centralized a scattered nation in the name of a mythologized history, repurposing the words of a holy language for use in secular contexts - paralleling the incorporation of Qur’anic vocabulary into Modern Standard Arabic.

Yet, if modern Hebrew is meant to be “authentic,” why is the word for tea ‘teh’ and not ‘shai’ as it is in other Semitic languages like Arabic and Aramaic? Why is the word for banana ‘banana’ and not ‘muuza’ as it would be in Arabic? In the same vein, why does the mode of Hebrew pronunciation taught in Israeli schools sideline the guttural sounds of quf, ayin, and het originally spoken by Jews in ancient Tiberias, opting instead for a more European flair?

Most of the loanwords that exist in Modern Hebrew come from Germanic languages. Of course, it is understandable that the introduction of vocabulary not previously existent in biblical or rabbinic Hebrew could be pulled from English, which was already a lingua franca during Hebrew’s revival in a nationalist context. However, such influence does call for further inquiry where existing, foundational verbiage with Semitic origins was discarded and replaced with European terminology.

These small details in the modern Hebraic lexicon reveal much about the sentiments and convictions of European Zionist nation-builders. Firstly, the disposal of selected nouns with Semitic roots arguably reflects a latent desire to separate this artificially monolithic conception of the “Jewish people” from southwestern Asian languages-  languages perceived to not be Jewish. The same goes for the systematic labeling of Mizrahi accents as “incorrect” in professional contexts in Israel. Yemeni immigrants, for instance, have faced and continue to face ridicule and discrimination because of their accents. Ironically, however, Yemenite Jews are generally thought to pronounce liturgical Hebrew most similarly to the ancient Tiberian inflection. Does this mean that all Jews who are not Yemenite have “inauthentic” pronunciations? Of course not. What it does mean is that Arabic, for example, is not an un-Jewish language. The accent that many Mizrahim are discriminated against for having is not a “corruption” of anything.

Secondly, modern Hebrew’s European loanwords and inflection indicate that Zionist leaders seeking to revitalize Hebrew as a “universal” language for Jews heavily prioritized the comfort of Ashkenazi Jews in their adjustment to life in the Holy Land. Of course, learning Hebrew was still very difficult for Yiddish-speaking Ashkenazim (read: women) who hadn’t been exposed to the study of rabbinic or biblical Hebrew in the heder, but leaders like Ben Yehuda clearly geared this ancient Semitic language to be as accessible to Europeans as possible in its revival. Had there been a genuine effort to make Hebrew a language for Jewish ‘olim hailing from across the globe, Judeo-Arabic and Judeo-Persian-speaking Mizrahim would have been consulted much more.

Lastly, Hebrew’s Germanic loanwords and smoothed-out modern pronunciation made it a more palatable language in the eyes of European colonialists, with whom Israel’s founding parties sought to form pragmatic alliances. The more similar Hebrew could be to European languages while still retaining its own mythologized, ancient character, the more British proponents of settler-colonialism could perhaps be willing to lend a hand to Jewish settlers. And so goes the balancing act between the orientalized nostalgia and modern European appeal of Hebrew.

"Vote for the Zionist list (No. 6), all who believe in the rebirth of our land through Hebrew labor." From the Zionist List in Russia, 1917

Zionists are quick to point out that since a majority of Israelis are Mizrahim, the growth of the Yishuv and Israel’s eventual establishment could not have been functionally settler-colonialist in character, to which I say: What is the Turkish, Iraqi, Persian, and Syrian treatment of Kurds? What is the North African Arab treatment of Imazighen? These, too, are essentially colonial projects which seek to supplant indigenous peoples by relying on idealized ancient mythologies and constructions of “authenticity”. A common source of discomfort for progressive critics of Zionism is the prevalence of conservative viewpoints held by Mizrahi Jews inside and outside of Israel, but the idea of colonized peoples colonizing other peoples should not be a revolutionary or difficult one to reconcile and accept.

Israel may not have taken on the character of a settler-colonial project had the Zionists of old integrated with Palestinian and Samaritan society. Palestinians’ apprehensive or negative reactions to early European Zionist settlers were understandable, considering Zionist collaboration with British Imperial forces. The reactionary right-wing politics of the majority of Mizrahim in Israel is, too, understandable considering their alternatives. The State of Israel has always propped itself up on the rejection and effective demonization of Arabness, so racism against Mizrahim based on accent, physical features, or culture resembling that of gentile Arabs comes as no surprise. Rather than facing social immobility and expendability as a source of cheap labor, conservative Israeli Mizrahim align themselves with Israel’s hybrid mythologized / Europeanized national consciousness, rejecting Arabness because doing so simply benefits their survival in a state established by European Zionists.

Mizrahim live in a time of nesting doll diasporas. In their 2019 song “Hana Mash Hu Al Yaman,” the Yemeni-Israeli sisters of the band A-WA lament a common traumatic thread connecting Mizrahi families in Israel:

“I came to you fleeing

You saw me as primitive.

I came to you as a last resort.”

What does decolonization look like, in a literal sense? Mizrahim living in Israel cannot go back to the countries which initially tried to stamp them out. Why would the current generation want to learn their grandparents’ forgotten Arabic, Darija, Turkish, or Farsi - or dig up their grandparents’ buried memories? To do so is like pressing one’s tongue against a tooth stripped of enamel. Many Israelis are also of mixed heritage. An Israeli friend’s family hosts Tunisian, Arab Iraqi, and Syrian-Turkish Jews. Which nation-state should she return to? For which mythology should she feel nostalgia? People have always migrated. Issues arise when territorial and cultural dominance- not pluralism- becomes the collective goal of populations.

Discarding nationalist mythologies altogether can help afford modern populations some clarity. Mizrahi liberation is inextricably linked with Palestinian liberation, Kurdish liberation, Yazidi liberation, and all other liberations of oppressed indigenous peoples and ethnoreligious minorities. Even within the construct of ‘Mizrahi’ as a label for MENA Jews, Arab Iraqi Jews may hold harmful attitudes towards Kurdish Jews hailing from within Iraqi borders. My close friend, who is a Kurdish Jew, recounts to me the almost Ba’athist undertones of a conversation she had with an Arab Iraqi Jew, whose nostalgia for Iraq was based on a desire for inclusion within Arab supremacist power structures. Nostalgia is a reactionary, false friend. Seeking acceptance within the monolithic ideologies of Pan-Arabism, Pan-Turkism, Pan-Iranism or Zionism is not a solution in the long term, nor is clinging to conservatism under nationalist governments.

Ceding space or resources to other colonized peoples does not mean that there will be insufficient space or resources for you. It is the overlap of these spaces that becomes a vital standpoint for reconciliation. Solidarity begins with truthfully baring the histories witnessed by multiple populations, and remaining able to acknowledge them simultaneously. The nation-state’s mythology does not allow for admission to the atrocities of the Farhud; the Algerian War of Independence; Deir Yassin; the Aleppo Riots. It is up to the people to shift their collective consciousness toward empathy and mutual recognition.

Mirushe Zylali is a junior at Mount Holyoke College double majoring in Studio Art and Religion. Through poetry, nonfiction work, and printmaking, they are interested in examining who remains within cultural memory, and how the Other is constructed in service of the nationalism of post-colonial states. 

[fanchonmoreau]

⭐️ for that caos fic where you put all your Lilith feels in and I think there was Lilith x eve in it as well as madam spellman (that’s the right ship name right?)

This is so sweet of you to ask even tho you don’t go here! Love!

So this is for my most recent fic Hineni.

I was going to write a little bit about how this fic is fundamentally about discovering your anger and turning it into power, and how difficult that is to do as a woman in the world. And how the best way to do it is to with the support of other women.

BUT someone fucking shot up a synagogue today, so I’m going to write about how fucking Jewish this piece is and why that’s important.

Cut for ranting. 

I don’t know how all of you learned about Lilith, but I did as a kid in Hebrew school. I read copies of her magazine, the Jewish feminist magazine, and got her not as a demon, but as a woman who stood up for herself. When I saw her in CAOS, I couldn’t bear seeing her kowtow to Satan (who is way more complicated in Judaism than he is in Christianity! I was taught not to believe in him), and I hated the name Madam Satan and I still do. Not only does it bind her to her abuser, but it removes her from her rich history of mostly Jewish mythology. You’re right that Madam Spellman is the ship name, but I hate that too tbh, because it uses Madam Satan.

Hineni is about taking the Christian world CAOS situates her in, the world of heaven and hell, Christianity and Satanism, and tearing it apart. Eve tells Lilith that what they will rule is “this world, and the world to come.” Ha'olam HaBa, the world to come, is the Jewish afterlife. Lots of Jews have speculated on what it is, but the point of the world to come is that it is beyond our comprehension. The closest thing we have to Hell, Gehinom, is actually a place where we’re meant to spend a finite amount of time going over the events of your life. If you’ve done terrible things and now have to account for them, then yeah, it’s fucking Hell.

It’s Jewish because it lets Eve be angry and want to destroy the God that locked her out of the Garden and isolated her for disobeying him. Judaism is about questioning, it is about curiosity, it is about reading the story and sometimes saying God was wrong. Doubt is okay and allowed. You are allowed to reject God. You are allowed to not believe in God. You are allowed to remove God from the Bible and make God as you want God to exist. The most important thing isn’t the world beyond or the God above: it’s the life you live in the world, and the way you treat the people in it.

Which is why the only way any of these women were ever going to get free was to lean on each other to do it. Once they start communicating with each other, God and Satan get so much smaller in their lives.

And that is how my Lilith gets her groove back, by coming up into the world and filling a role I always imagined for her: a spirit that guides women into their anger, their power, and ultimately their liberation.

There is one line she says to Zelda: “The road may be long and narrow, but whatever happens, I need you to have no fear.” That’s an adaptation of a very famous Jewish song called Gesher Tzar Me'od, a very narrow bridge: The whole entire world is a very narrow bridge, and the main thing to remember is to have no fear at all. I have set them– Lilith, Eve, Zelda, Hilda, Sabrina, and all of their sisters– on a very scary, very narrow bridge between God and Satan, a Jewish path that, if they trust each other, and care for each other, and have no fear at all, will lead them somewhere entirely new, and somewhere very beautiful. I’m not sure if they’ll get there, but I have all the hope in the world for them.

Anyway, I probably should have waited like at least a day after an antisemitic hate crime to write this but like you know what! Fuck it! Read my fic! I like this one a lot and also LOOK AT ALL MY FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

[the-mira-life-project-mtf]

Distraction Is The Key! (My MtF-H.R.T. Journey)

HOMESICK

     The first time I’ve ever dealt with homesickness was when I went to collage. I completely skipped community collage and went into university to seek my degree in science and felt the sting of being separated from my family. I remember them helping me move into my dorm and when everyone was done...they walked away...leaving me in the window watching as they disappeared out of sight. That night, I never slept, I was too wound up to place my mind into sleep induced hypnosis.

     For the first week, I felt lost, confused, unsure, unclear, perplexed, disconnected, isolated, distanced away from all that I knew. I was living with complete and total strangers as I spent hours in my room pacing back-and-forward like a caged wolf at a community zoo. It took almost a month to get over the sickness.

     It certainly did feel like a sickness too! I could not eat for a few days, then when I did eat, it was the wrong food. I felt weighted down, depressed as each step felt like a thousand pounds. Slowly, my sleep caught up to me as I accumulated a serious sleep-debt!

     I was homesick and by week two, I found myself walking the whole campus’s perimeter each day, going off trail to climb the loose earth and weeding the flowerbeds to distract my mind. It is easy to distract yourself when you can escape the house, however, it isn’t so easy when you are trapped inside.

     The worst homesickness I’ve ever felt was when I was very young and I was very sick. I was hospitalized and when the night came, my family left, even with me begging them to stay...isolated to my room, isolated to my bed...the only way to escape the homesickness was to sleep...but when you are homesick, sleep isn’t that easy and time seems to go by slowly!

LEAVING CERTAINTY 

      Most people my age have already went through the process of leaving home for a life of their own; either tired of following their parents rules or falling in love with another and forming their own family. I, however, like most of my generation are remaining at home...mooching off our parents to get along...that wasn’t my life! I was expected to remain as I was the only male member of your family and it was my duty to maintain the house and property and take care of my family. This is quite common in Asian countries, but not in America.

     However, my transgender nature has made living at home dangerous as my family are continuously waging a verbal war against the LGBT...and me...without knowing it. However, with no finical security, inability to work, and battling a terminal illness...my life will always require me to piggyback off of another to survive and I’ve learned to make myself useful.

     The moment has finally come; the moment I leave my old life behind and move onward to a new life. I sadly feel bad for my biological family: They shall never experience the unconditional love that I have...or be truly free of the social binds that hold them down.

     However, there is fear...I am leaving certainty...a life that I’ve built in the last 25 years for a life that has no certainty. Who knows, in two years, my new family might tell me to move on. It is a risky gamble, but at this moment, at the cusp of my transformation...I have to leave.

EXPECTATIONS & DISTRACTIONS

     I am already expecting that the first two months of my new life will be a wild roller-coaster of emotions. I will be constantly trying to find my niche in the family that I can bud from and blossom my new life. I know that the soils are fertile as there is always love and caring. I feel...secure there...knowing that if I can’t breathe, they won’t question me or shun me. Actually, it is the exact opposite, they would feel hurt if I did not let them into my life.

     This is why I think the homesickness will only last for two months and as the warm summer months approach, I will find ways to distract myself from feeling blue.

Writing: Ever since junior high, I have always been writing. Clearing my head of distracting thought. Composing research and writing works of fiction, science fiction and fantasy. At home, my writing is frown upon as I am expected to be outside working when I should not. At my new home, the focus is that I stay inside to safeguard my health as the end goal as a bilateral lung transplant.

Gardening: At home, I am in-charge of all the gardening and farming that my grandfather once did. However, I don’t wish to make a business out of it and would like to tend to my own flowers, vegetable and fruit-bearing plants. A garden is like a child, it need constant care or it will die.

Sound-Technology: At one time, one of my paths could have sent me to Oregon to seek a career in sound-technology. I was very good at my job in high school...learning techniques to make the worse singers sound like gold. Luckily, my new family are singers, musicians and performers...and I expect they will have the same expectations for me once I am adopted as every child is expected to perform somehow in the group. The one area that they need help is sound technology...and if I can become good once more...I will have an opportunity to re-join a band.

Cystic Fibrosis Advocate: Ever since 2015, my whole life has been set on the path to fight and advocate cystic fibrosis. Personally, I feel indebted to paying a life for a life. I should have died back in 2015, but because of Amanda Carlene’s compassion to see that I got on the correct path...she saved my life when I was infected with an aggressive strain of aspergillus. Oddly, this was the same time my desire to correct my gender flourished...contesting to what many say...I am Amanda’s legacy. This is why I dedicated my middle name to Amanda, calling myself Mira Carlene.

Beautification Of My Home: The place that will become my home certainly needs to be cleaned up. Much has been done to the place! When Mitch and Michelle first rented the property, the house was a disaster, filled with animal excrement, fleas and garbage. With the house livable once more, the property has been neglected as they are too tired to attend to the 8 acres of land. In my two years of coming over, I have greatly improved the property beyond measure and have plans to beautify the lands for our guests as Mitch has plans to build a camp...if he can only win the lottery.

Damming The Creek: Almost 60 feet down into a ravine runs a creek that I want to dam and form a pond. I have a love of water and bodies of water as a Scorpio! Back in 2018, when our pump-house fail...we were in bad need for water. I had envisioned creating a shallow pond for collecting water, creating a water fall and giving our dog, Chance, a place to wade before he died. Damming the creek is still my pet project...including building a trail system for the family to hike and to open access to the upper canyon.

Turning The Barn Into A Workshop With a Garden: Although I don’t see a garden happening this year, (as there is much work needed to be done!), but I need to organize and clean up the mess that is called the barn. When the family moved from Key Center to Victor, whatever could not fit in the house now lays in the barn. There are four stalls (once used for horses) that can be turned into four workstations: One as our tool shop, one for allowing Mitch to return to making rock art, one for storage and one for gardening. I’ve already bought LED lights to brighten the barn up as it is pretty dark in there!

Re-purpose The Chicken Coup: Into what...I don’t know...but I am thinking storage and a tool-shop.

Being A Daughter To The Children: One of the things I could never have is children...and the opportunity to step into the role of Big-Sister for the children has already happened as I am learning to get comfortable with them and teaching the youngest son all my skills...as my grandfather taught me.

Re-Focusing On Mira: All my life, I’ve been dedicated to focusing on others, letting myself go; neglecting my therapy and doing things my doctors frown upon. When the whole transgender thing out of the way, and having their blessings, I am free to re-focus on being just Mira.

Renewing My Faith: With a new start, I also want to rekindle my faith. I have been following Mitch and Michelle to their church; and while it is nice to sit with the ones who love you, I just have not settled into the faith of a baptist. I was raised Lutheran and probably die a Lutheran. I have been to all types of domination including: Baptist, Episcopalian, Jehovah Witness, Catholic, Masonic, Lutheran and New Age faiths...each one different. I’ve even read the Hebrew Torah and the Islamic Qurʾan. I found religion and faith intriguing, and being so close to death...desirable. At this moment, there are two Lutheran churches I am thinking of visiting: North Bay Lutheran in Allyn and Christ Lutheran in Belfair, however, North Bay is closes to where I live.

Going Through The Preceding’s: The process of having a full name change is somewhat...complicated! Most transgender individuals will decide to change their first name, some will drop their middle man if it does not suit their genders, and rarely change their last name. I will be going for a full legal name change...which is only half the battle! If approved, then you need to contact the SSD, DVM, Banks, Creditors and Debtors, Clinics, Insurance Companies for Medical and Car, and then the non-vital departments and stores like Costco, Bi-Mart or even the CFF! I’ve been down this road once before, when I was 18, and looks like I will be doing it again. At this moment, I am already using the name of Mira with my closes friends and will change all my social media platforms to Mira Carlene in May.

Continue The Foundation: The ability to continue the foundation has been my biggest goal since I’ve came into my new family’s life. Before I contacted them, I wasn’t aware that they were almost not going to do the CFF Walk, which they have done in memory of Amanda and Jessica who both passed away from cystic fibrosis. I was the sign they were asking for, and I did not want that type of attention, so I remained distant, but also needed to ‘know’ them. They were special to me, even though we only meet twice. Sadly, the foundation had fallen into ruins long before I came into the picture. The people who help start the foundation were the same ones who sank it...it was tragic!

In 2018, Michelle approached me about taking over the foundation as it found a new reason to exist and was willing to donate proceeds to me, but I turned it down. In 2019, the foundation had just turned seven years old...seven years since Amanda passed away...and I had been considering restarting the foundation. I was focusing on holiday craft shows and events to sell and raise awareness. 

Take for example, just last year, over 80,000 people attended the Kitsap County Fair, which means 40,000 people would see our booth, and even if they did not buy a thing, they will leave with those two words in their memory: Cystic Fibrosis. Amanda was all about advocacy when I knew her and now that was my reality. Ironically, I am fulfilling both of their memories and promises to their father.

[thurisazsalail]

today i had to explain to a bunch of ex-christian atheists who are bitching about a new translation of “the hebrew bible” (i don’t have time to unpack that) that duh, the books aren’t supposed to be perfect 1) it is literally impossible to translate anything more complicated than “i ate a sandwich today” perfectly. connotations, cultural ideas of a thing, cultural ideas of gender applied to words for languages that HAVE that, cultural historical connections to certain concepts or words, etc. mean that “I wore a scarf on my head” could mean vastly different things to someone living in Saudi Arabia vs. Californian white girl reading the same sentence, even in the same language. A “perfect” translation is literally impossible. 2) we don’t even know what some things mean anymore. that was thousands of years ago. the politics were different, even a lemon then doesn’t look anything like a lemon now. (selective breeding and genetic modification ‘the slow way’ is why). explaining what an apple meant in language 500 years ago is nothing like explaining the same thing today. we can make best guesses based on other historical writings, rabbinical opinions, and other texts from around the various time periods to be examined, but in the end... well, for some things, who knows what they REALLY meant in context of the person who wrote them, for the people who would read and apply these things to their lives? that is why you can study the same texts for your entire life and never derive everything from them. like a cartoon you loved as a child, you watch it again and again and pick up on new things as you age. with experience comes wisdom (at least, for some of us, it does) 3) whether or not you believe that some of the things in these books literally happened or not is irrelevant. yes, there are some contradictions. there were multiple writers, and multiple books. it was oral tradition before written tradition. also, the nature of these texts is to be imperfect... because the universe is imperfect.  from a christian point of view, the books are to be Gds ABSOLUTE word. INFALLIBLE. Perfect. Any deviation from perfection is abhorrent! And therefore, there is no tolerance- any infraction means severe punishment or Hell. but the words aren’t perfect. they’re quite fallible, imperfect. that’s the whole point. it’s a feature of being human, in an imperfect universe. we fight with angels, protest against injustice, and are ourselves imperfect. when you start to wrestle with the idea that a divinity is imperfect, that the universe isn’t perfect, you learn this thing called PATIENCE. when you can accept that we don’t understand the Unknowable, and you can accept that you won’t get everything you want, etc. you can ALSO have appreciation and kindness towards humans in this life, in this world, NOW, who are not perfect. If divinity isn’t perfect, how can we hold a human to be? Instead, learn forgiveness, justice, mercy, patience- to ask questions because no, maybe you DON’T know everything that’s happening like you think you do. We can hold people accountable for things but also understand that there might be mitigating circumstances. we can be fair and also have lovingkindness. also in Judaism there isn’t a Hell. so there’s that.  all y’all can quit arguing over some books now.

[smallblanketfort]

reasons not to

i asked followers and friends to tell me why they’re alive. why they stayed. this is what happened.

the world is beautiful, like, breathtakingly, stunningly, dashingly, spectacularly, exasperatingly beautiful. every wall dirty with paint and ornate with mud and graffiti, all the moldy trees and infuriating insects, all the contorted perfect faces around the world, the decaying and the rising, whatever dichotomy that comes to life and anything that grows according to the plan is beautiful. and it breaks my heart that i will never see all the beauty in the world, but at least i gotta try.

I’m staying alive because I am not ready to be forgotten. This universe has existed for 14 billion years and will continue to exist for at least 14 billion more. In this grand scale, I get an average of 70 years, if I’m lucky. I will not be forgotten. I will do everything it takes to make a difference, to create, to grow and to cherish. I will not be forgotten.

tbh, the main reason i keep myself clean and alive is that i know my family wouldn't be able to take it if i didn't. everyone in my family either has psychological issues or strong tendencies to develop them, and the reason we all keep going, i believe, is because we know we have to be there for each other, otherwise everyone will fall. and i know it's kinda sad and maybe a little unhealthy sometimes but it's how we've worked for the longest time, and hey, we're still here, right?

I’ve stayed alive for my gay ambitions. I wanna kiss a girl! While sober! I’ve had 2 kisses while drunk but I don’t remember one and it sucks. I wanna be confident enough to kiss a girl without anything helping. Also one of those girls was straight and kissing me for attention from her gross boyfriend, I’d like to avoid that situation again lol. But yeah, gayness. Fuckin wild my dude. Gotta shoot my shot and get some lip-lock ya feel?

i reached out for help a while ago to a teacher and if it weren’t for him i might not have made it. he’s said so many things and tells me that i matter, i’m worth it, i deserve to be happy, and he wished he had a daughter like me. it makes me cry knowing that he puts effort into making sure i’m okay, and that’s what keeps me going. i want to make sure his efforts don’t go to waste.

I'm still alive for going out with friends on nights like this. Hearing the birds wake up. Seeing neon lights and stars. That even when I feel so lonely, so alone, I can at least see my friends have fun and lose myself in the music.

I want to be clean because then at least i know i can do it. I've only stayed clean for a few months and then relapsed. If i can make it to a year, then at least i know i can do another and then another and then another and maybe even not deal with it at all anymore. I just want to beat this for good.

my mom’s battled depression her whole life, and last fall i broke down sobbing and started telling her about how mine had been festering in secret for so long. and she started telling me about all the pain she never thought would bridge the mother-daughter divide and how she wanted to breathe in the shadows like smoke to keep them from burning my skin. sometimes at night we crawl into each others beds and carry the weight together when our arms have started giving out. i stay alive for her.

The thing that kept me here most was knowing that my life is not really my own. No one is purely self- contained. To end my own life would be to alter dozens. So, to counter my own feeling of worthlessness, I invested my time in things that I knew had a net positive impact on the world. The more objectively positive meaning that I gave to my life made it harder to argue that I should kill myself. What would my parents do? What would my also suicidal younger brother do? We're probably a package deal in this regard. Same with some students I lead a mental health group with. I had set an example to them, and I can't fail that hard without risking their well being.

Simply, my boyfriend. It started with him physically hiding anything I could use to hurt myself. Over time, with his support, I learned some self worth and improved so much. Now those things don't have to be hidden. Even now that he's gone for a year and a half and our contact is limited to a 20 minutes phone call a day and letters, I find I'm still stable enough to stay alive and clean. He taught me how to be safe even without him and that's worth everything.

I stuck around because for some reason, something was telling me to check things out until I'm 30. When I was a kid, I imagined myself getting older all the time. When I wanted to die, I couldn't see anything past the age I was in, 19. I was both so scared and so sad for my innocence, but apparently, it never left me. Because, even though I couldn't /see/ myself beyond 19, my body made me feel like I could. Did that make sense? I'm 24 now. So far I'm glad I stuck around.

Don't want to sound conceited, but there was a kid at church who just loved me. She was like my tail. Although, I think I learned from her more than she learned from me. We both spent the whole day in church because of various activities I was involved in and because her parents were in the choir for all the services. We were always together when there was nothing for me to do-- she talked a lot. I loved hearing what she had to say. That's why I didn't. I looked forward to her growth every week

I'm alive because of the Oscar's. A few years ago a theater was showing all the nominated movies, and my mom and I went to see Manchester by the Sea. It's a sad movie, about an accident that killed some kids, but it affected my mom a lot more than me. I remember walking back to the car and her talking about how she probably wouldn't be able to go on if one of her kids died. I still can't imagine a future, but so far I'm here and tthinking about that conversation in that parking structure.

i stayed alive because i couldn’t choose which sunrise would be my last.

My family, friends, and God keep me here. If it weren't for them, I might have committed suicide or at least harmed myself because I was so overwhelmed with the world and hated myself for how far I went into sin. I might be in prison because I was heading down a path that could have lead to illegal things. God has always pulled me back in and my family has always been there to talk to. A couple of friends have helped a lot too. I also hate inflicting pain on myself and others, so that has kept me here as well .I am still coming out of certain sins and I am still recovering, but I have hope now in Christ and hope for a better future. I still get overwhelmed and perplexed by this world, but I have support and I know that God is working in my life which will allow me to help others hopefully.

i’m alive because of the little things. seeing your plants flower, the dew in the morning, low hanging clouds in the mountains, the smell of warm dirt after it rains, the tingling feeling of your fingers warming up after going numb.

A fear of hurting my mum, sisters and best friend is the biggest factor in me staying. There have been so many times that I've thought - known - they'd be better off without me, but I know they won't see it like that, and will just be hurt. Personal vanity and the hope I can accomplish the projects I've dreamed of finishing also keeps me going.

On most days, staying clean is the hope that I can be used by the Lord in the lives of people who have been through the same thing—that one day I can look at someone and say, “I made it through… you can too.” On the nights I almost relapse, I think of the girls I’m discipling and the witness I have for Christ and wrestle with the effects of one hasty decision—and five years down the drain. The staying alive thing is a little more complicated sometimes. For the most part, it’s because I’ve personally seen the impact of suicide—both in my family and friendships. However, sometimes that’s not good enough. And, as pathetic as it seems, there are times when my cat is the only reason I’m still here. Phteven has super high anxiety, is afraid of most everyone (myself excluded), and is, generally, pretty high maintenance because of all his fears. No one in their right mind would take care of him if I were gone. So, on the darkest nights of my life, I’ve honestly stayed because I think my cat would end up at a shelter, and he would 100% have a heart attack because of the anxiety (which written out sounds really silly, but there ya go.) In general, however, it’s the knowledge of the impact it would have—regardless of how well I perceived to be loved or cared for.

For me the hope of tomorrow, there is always a new day. Ive always been an optimist and even in my darkest moments, hope keeps me grounded. Romans 8:18, Psalm 51:10 & Hebrews 6:19 have been verses that have helped me through to the point i have an anchor tattoo with Steadfast across it.

While some of these may sound dumb, they’ve kept me going all these years: all the books I’ll be able to read some day. all the movies/tv shows/music I’ll get to watch/listen to. All the laughs with my crazy friends. All the laughs with my crazy family. The possibility of road trips and vacations. The possibility of writing a book of my own. Falling in love. Being best friends with my sister. Loving my niece to pieces. Smelling the air after it’s just rained, and/or after the grass has been cut. Seeing the first snowfall every year. Seeing the corn and beans sprouting every spring. Sitting on a porch when I’m old. Having grandchildren to tell all your crazy stories to. And laughing. So much laughing. 😌

my reason to stay alive is my friends. they needed me to keep going, to keep pushing through every dark night. I know just how devastating it would be if one of my plans actually did work. since my dad passed away, every day was getting harder and harder to get through, until eventually i just didn't want to even live for the new morning. it's only been a few months now since the suicidal thoughts and the urge to self harm has left, but I think what got me through the worst of it was the unrelenting support of my friends. they were there for me through every breakdown, every panic attack and every dark thought. I genuinely don't think I'd be here today without their support- their kindness is what kept me going. I've worked hard for three years now on my mental health, I've been going to counselling and seeking support from other people. I've taken self care with open arms and its made such a difference. reaching out for help was so hard but it was so so worth it. I've reached my 18th birthday, a milestone I never thought i could ever achieve- yet here I am proving every horrible thought my brain spews up wrong. I'm so thankful I never gave up, because each day now - while sometimes still a struggle, shows me how the world has a little light bearing through even when things seem to be going shit. my lovely friends, my art and music is what wakes me up every morning and motivates me to sleep at night. life does get better.

In the past it was always my sister and brother. I always kept going and stayed here just so one day I could find them and we could be together. Be a family. I loved them since the moment I met them. Though my sister was only three and didn't speak English at the time only French. Of course I only knew English. My brother was to be born very soon. I was instantly in love. To know that I had them. They were my world. They held me together. Even though for the next 13 years we would not see each other for unfair reasons. Now 22 years later what keeps me here has changed only slightly. My sister and my father are what keep me here. For a very different reason now though. Four years ago my little brother, the one I was just speaking of, was murdered. Along with his girlfriend and her sister. I keep going because right now I can't let my dad suffer the loss of two children. I can't let the sweetest sister in the world lose two siblings. I can't let them down. I have to stay strong. I have to keep going. It's exhausting most days, and it gets harder as time goes on. So I fight back more to keep going because I love them and I know they love me.

I guess for me -- the reason I stayed is because I almost didn't stay, and it was the total grace of God that I'm here. At the time I thought I would have stayed for my family, or my friends, or my future -- but I totally could not see any of that other than the continuous hurt I thought I was inflicting on them. I had a really bad fall semester at my university that led me to eventually take a much needed and helpful medical leave my spring semester;; but the first time that I really almost did it I was breaking down on the top floor of a parking garage at my university, begging that God would actually see me and wanting prayer but not knowing where to go and not wanting to "burden" anyone I knew. As this was happening, this guy walks to the top of the garage and sees me - comes over to where I was sitting, asks if I'm okay and gives me a hug, and asks if he could pray for me (and my university is not even religious at *all*). He literally slept in a booth across from me and stayed with me all night as I finished my homework, and he walked with me to class the next day. In the midst of everything that I was a bit of hope. Towards the very end of the semester, I had seriously made the decision I was going to do it and went about with all what I thought were my parting arrangements -- the next morning when I was going to leave he sends me a text and shows up at my dorm, telling me he was praying for me and wanted to stay with me that day until I left to go back home to Pittsburgh where I'd be for my medical leave. Both of those times I actually didn't see a reason to stay -- but God did. And it took some time for that to really sink in... that God wants me to stay. That he wouldn't let me go. And that has been a massive reason why I stay now. In addition to that, through this healing season I have relearned the beauty of family and friendship, and how much love there actually is surrounding me -- and now, I look around and I appreciate it that much more because it was almsot never there. Knowing that God never gave up and there *actually was* soooooo much love and life on the other side of this that I was convinced I would never see gives me so much hope to keep holding on and to not listen to the lies that there is no good for me or my future. I don't want to live my life out of guilt or fear of what will happen to me or my friends/family after I'm gone -- but I guess that is a part of it, seeing many friends die from preventable causes and the damage it does puts things into perspective. But I'd say my main reason for staying is knowing that life really is worth it and precious when I can't see it, because I know what it's like to make it out the other side and understand how tightly God holds onto us when we don't want to even hold on anymore.

I stayed alive because I didn't know there was another option. I was young. I stayed alive because I didn't want my sister to have to live as someone with that kind of hole in her life. I stayed alive because there was always some upcoming performance and my company is too small for understudies or alternates. I stayed alive because there was always someone not quite as steady who relied on me to do so. Only now, finally, I can stay alive because I want to.

Reasons I stay alive: the love of the people close to me, and the knowledge that with age we get better. Anxieties lessen and dissipate, confidence grows, skills develop and things generally become clearer.

Ive been thinking about this post quite a lot, Haha. Mostly, it’s because I don’t want to give up. I want to prove to myself and my loved ones that I’m so much stronger than I think I am and I’d like to show the bullies of my past that I’m stronger than they think. Also, my family and friends and boyfriend keep me here. There’s so much see in the future, and I sometimes just... hold on to that. I lost touch with one of my best friends for years and I’m just too glad to have her back in my life since last year and I know (haha this sounds selfish I guess, but she told me haha) that she’s so glad about it as well. There’s so many things I want to achieve and things to see. I mean - about three weeks ago, said best friend and I met our childhood hero and I just kept thinking “man, I’m so glad I stayed”.

it’s on my blog too x and twitter

[ahopefuldoubt]

Matters of Representation: The “Chosen One” Archetype, Adoptees, and The Prince of Egypt

originally posted in 2016 [x].  time references are relative to 2016.

This is a post I started drafting in the middle of April (2016), so coming back to it three months later has been like trying to meld together two fairly different frames of mind.  For anyone who reads it, I hope you’ll bear with me as I (continue to) work through things here.  It’s part personal, part purposeful, and probably does not flow well.  My original plan was to write only about the overused “Chosen One” trope and how unsettling it is when that character is an adoptee or foster child.  But it grew a bit beyond that.

Moses gives me pause.  He’s a puzzle I am always trying to reconfigure.  Oftentimes he seems to me like a generic protagonist: another man who receives a call to arms and embarks on a hero’s quest to fulfill his destiny.  Another adoptee who gets saddled with the “Chosen One” label and responsibilities, one who must save the world despite having already lost his original family and history.  A convenient blank slate with no past.

As much as Moses frustrates me as a character, and as little as I identify with him, he’s important to me.  Our relationship is complicated.  :)  (Can you imagine the Facebook status?)

Like a lot of transracial and/or international adoptees, I grew up in a predominantly white community.  My older sister was adopted too, but without her there, I didn’t see myself reflected in my family or in my town.  As a child, I watched animated movies like Anastasia and Dumbo.  Standard fare.  Stories that featured orphans, separation, adoption, reunion.  I was attracted to them.  Anastasia was hugely influential for me.  And I was troubled by them.  Just thinking about the scene where they separate Dumbo from his mother sends me into a tailspin; it’s not a movie I’d voluntarily watch again.  Back then, though, I didn’t have the language to really explain what I was feeling or why, or to even describe these movies as adoption-related.  I did what I think a lot of adoptees do in this situation, and internalized it all: I felt embarrassed about how much I liked Anastasia, but I don’t think many people knew I felt any sort of way about it.

Maybe a contributing factor was that my adoptive parents were from a generation where people didn’t have many discussions about privilege (of all kinds) or about adopting children — especially as white people adopting children who weren’t white.  My parents were not given the language, so they couldn’t approach the subject or teach me how to put a name to my emotions.  There’s more awareness now: Adult adoptees are speaking out and helping to ensure that prospective adoptive parents have these conversations.  Things have improved; however, on the whole, I still see a lot of the same issues.  Whitewashing and colorblindness.  And shoddy representations of adoptees in stories.

It’s been quite a trip to have seen The Prince of Egypt so recently, and to think, finally I can see myself.  This is the representation that I didn’t realize I was missing.  Nothing has been quite the same since I watched this movie.  In many ways, but certainly in that I’m better able to notice and think about all of these adoptee/foster child “Chosen Ones” in stories past, present, and future.

I’m glad that The Prince of Egypt focuses so much on Moses’ relationships with both his adoptive and biological families (including a sense of his own “in-betweenness”).  For one thing, the reunion naturally involves Aaron and Miriam, the character/s I identify with and emote over more.  Furthermore, because it is such an intimate and complex story, there are many layers to the three siblings’ relationships, and their conflicts are allowed to unfold on-screen.  I don’t think movies like Anastasia depict this struggle as well or as profoundly, or even at all.

Reunion has been at the front of my mind for at least six years.  Time feels strange to me; fleeting.  I’ve passed the age my birthmother had me, if the information in my record is real.  My adoptive mother died earlier this year.  Reunion is on my mind constantly.  Is my birthmother still alive?  Did I get my dimples from her?  Does she share my serious outlook on life?  Did she ever contact my birthfather again?  Does my birthfather have the same thick hair?  Was he good to her while they were together?

Am I running out of time to find the answers to any of these questions?  Do I even want to know?  I’ve already hit a couple of snags in my search for her.  I’m afraid to go further.

Reunion is on my mind constantly.  Do I have any younger biological siblings?

But I will never fully be a member of my biological family, should I reunite with them.  It will feel so close, yet so far.  There will be a linguistic divide, a cultural divide.  I won’t quite mold to the shape of my birthmother’s arms.  And this hurts.  I often need to take a giant leap away from the movie and fandom because my emotions surrounding separation and reunion (the one in The Prince of Egypt and my own possible reunion) are so tangible.  A lot of painful stuff has been thrown into light, yet for some, at-times unfathomable reason, I still want to connect to this story, ache for it, find joy in it.  Because through it, I’ve also been able to process some of my own pain and grief.

There have definitely been times where I’ve wished I could identify more with Moses.  Beyond our common adoptee-hood, though, I don’t relate to him on much of a deep or personal level.  What I’ve learned — and accepted — over these past three months is that Moses doesn’t have to be “my adoptee protagonist.”  I don’t even have to like him at times.  Rather, as I wrote, he’s my puzzle.  He raises questions for me.  He makes me think more about how adoptees are represented in stories.

Too many stories use adoption as a convenient plot device.  However, adoption is a lifelong process.  More importantly, it is an identity.  My adoptee identity is with me every time I say my name and people smirk or do a double-take because my name, particularly my full name*** does not match my Asian face.  It is with me when I am asked if I speak Korean, and when I reply, “No,” I feel inadequate, estranged from my heritage and my people.  A blank slate with no past.

Adoption is not a tragic backstory or an obstacle for characters — and people — to overcome.  Yet it seems to be treated as such, or completely brushed aside.  Many weeks ago, at this point, I was talking about this with my best friend and remarked how Disney’s version of Hercules literally has to go through Hell (the Underworld) in order to be considered worthy of reuniting with his birthparents.  Narratively, it’s seen as an act of love and heroism, and I think this is part of the issue: The adoptee “Chosen Ones” in these stories are called on to be superheroes and saviors (and deliverers), to be strong and sound of heart and mind, to be more and more and more.  “Forget and be content.”  But, “don’t you abandon us.”  What’s an adoptee supposed to do with these high and contradictory expectations?

I’m not a Hero(tm).  I don’t want to be one.  Maybe this is why I don’t connect with the “traditional heroes” in stories.  I can’t live up to those kinds of expectations.  Nevertheless, I was raised with them.  I’d wager that many adoptees were, too.  Be grateful.  Be loyal.  Be a part of your adoptive family, but not really.  Be a part of your biological family.  But not really.  At what point does membership become conditional?

I understand that the search for self is universal, and as a result, many characters are made to go through journeys of self-discovery.  The “adoption fantasy,” wherein children (adopted and non-adopted alike) imagine they were adopted, is also a natural developmental phase.  When this “secret identity” trope is evoked in stories, it reads like a shocking plot twist.  However, it’s different for those who have actually lived it.  And there are of course many layers and levels to all of this, bigger pictures and so much to this specific circumstance.  Moses is an adoptee and he is Hebrew: born a slave, then taken and raised by his oppressors, who keep his adoption, his identity and history, from him.  I may consider Moses a puzzle in some ways, but the unethicalness of his relinquishment and adoption is something I will always be rather clear on (critical of).

In the sense that Moses will remain something of a puzzle to me, I’ll continue to find pieces of myself reflected in our “common adoptee-hood.”  I’ll continue to rage at his behavior when he’s a teenager.  I’ll continue to feel every jarring step and moment of happiness in how his siblings process the reunion.  And I’ll always continue to think about stories feature adoption and adoptees.

*** I use my birth name here on Tumblr, but my full legal name is always coded as white.

Last edited: 6/4/17 for clarity

[hiraeth-doux]

100 Questions

Tagged by one of my favourites @lunabelles

1. What is your nickname? I don’t have one

2. How old are you? Old …

3. What is your birth month? June

4. What is your zodiac sign? Gemini

5. What is your favorite color? Purple

6. What’s your lucky number? 13

7. Do you have any pets? 2 cats but they live with my mom now because bringing them with me to Australia would have been complicated 

8. Where are you from? currently living in Australia 

9. How tall are you? 5′2 (1,59m)

10. What shoe size are you? between 6 and 7, depending on shoes

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? About 12 maybe? 

12. Are you random? oh yeah

13. Last person you texted? My telephone company (yeah....) 

14. Are you psychic in any way? I don’t think so, I can be so incredibly clueless.

15. Last TV show watched? Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt 

6. Favorite movie? Stardust

17. Favourite show from your childhood? Sailor Moon! 

18. Do you want children? Nope

19. Do you want a church wedding? Not planning on getting married 

20. What is your religion? Brought up an atheist and will keep it that way. I’m quite fascinated with Buddhism and Hinduism but I don’t believe in anything divine

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Yes

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Running the red light, does that count?

23. How is life? ..... next question 

24. Baths or showers? Showers

25. What color socks are you wearing? Black

26. Have you ever been famous? lmao no

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? Nope. I like being able to carry on with my life without being stalked. I’d love the financial side of it though 

28. What type of music do you like? All kinds except the songs I don't like

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? I think so... I’m pretty sure I have but i don’t have a clear recollection

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 3 

31. What position do you usually sleep in? My side or my stomach 

32. How big is your house? It’s a studio. Decent sized for a studio but otherwise it’s pretty small 

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Cereal or an omelette 

34. Have you ever left the country? Yes

35. Have you ever tried archery? I think I had a toy bow because I liked Robin Hood as a kid, but not the real thing, no.

36. Do you like anyone? In a romantic sense - yeah, sort of. Otherwise I like my family and friends and my cats :)

37. Favorite swear word? Fuck

38. When do you fall asleep? Whenever my sleeping pills kick in

39. Do you have any scars? A few, have no idea how I got most of them though.

40. Sexual orientation? Pretty sure I’m straight but I hope I’m wrong

41. Are you a good liar? Maybe...?? How do you determine that? 

42. What languages would you like to learn? Italian, Hebrew and Greek 

43. Top 10 songs? I just played Tightrope from The Greatest Showman 15 times on repeat so I’ll go with it, x 10 lol 

44. Do you like your country? It’s okay, although I moved here from Canada and I like Canada much more

45. Do you have friends from the web? Yes and I <3 you all! 

46. What is your personality type? no idea, i took the test several times, each time with a different result 

47. Hogwarts House? Ravenclaw 

48. Can you curl your tongue? Nope

49. Pick one fictional character you can relate to? April Ludgate from Parks and Rec, or Rosa Diaz from B99

50. Left or right handed? Righty (sp??)

51. Are you scared of spiders? Not really. I find them disgusting but I can kill them without, you know, having to ask someone else to do it

52. Favorite food? Deep fried cheese

53. Favorite foreign food? Sushi

54. Are you a clean or messy person? A little bit of both??? I’m not the kind of messy that has week-old food just sitting on the table or has clothes strewn all over the floor, but I’m not a neat freak either, idk 

55. If you could switch your gender for a day, what would you do? Probably try to understand why men are so obsessed with boobs. I don’t get it, it’s mostly just fat (that women are not supposed to have anywhere else on the body, right?)

56. What color underwear? Peach

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? Maybe 30 minutes, give or take a few 

58. Do you have much of an ego? I have zero

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Don’t like candy

60. Do you talk to yourself? If not me, who else? lol 

61. Do you sing to yourself? Not really 

62. Are you a good singer? God no, I went to a music school for 6 years and I know for a fact that I am tone deaf

63. Biggest Fears? Snakes and small/overcrowded spaces

64. Are you a gossip? Nope, but if people want to share - go ahead lol

65. Are you a grammar nazi? Pretty much, the way people speak on the internet is my nightmare 

66. Do you have long or short hair? Long

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? I think so, I don’t think I ever tried

68. Favorite school subject? English

69. Extrovert or Introvert? Introvert

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? No, I’m scared of running out of air, and I am generally scared of water and drowning.

71. What makes you nervous? Everything. My anxiety, people, having to make phone calls, having to talk to anyone, not knowing what I’m doing with my life, my insomnia (and worrying about insomnia sort of leads to more insomnia) 

72. Are you scared of the dark? No

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Depends. If I know that it’s vital, like idk, in an important document or something, but otherwise probably no. I would never correct them if I know it would embarrass them

74. Are you ticklish? Yes

75. Have you ever started a rumor? I don’t think so

76. Have you ever been out of your home country? Yes

77. Have you ever drank underage? Oh yeah, it’s basically the only time I drank lol I quit before it was even legal for me to drink. 

78. Have you ever done drugs? Why? Never 

79. What do you fantasize about? My fanfics, and that guy lol 

80. How many piercings do you have? 6 - 2 in the left ear, 3 in the right and my navel even though I don’t wear navel jewellery anymore. I want to have my rook and helix pierced 

81. Can you roll your R’s? lol I don’t know

82. How fast can you type? Not too fast

83. How fast can you run? Depends on what’s chasing me lol 

84. What color is your hair? Natural - dark blonde, right now - auburn/red

85. What color are your eyes? Hazel/green 

86. What are you allergic to? Nothing, to my knowledge 

87. Do you keep a journal? Nope and never have 

88. Are you depressed about anything? A lot of things

89. Do you like your age? I actually quite love it 

90. What makes you angry? So. Many. Things!! Ignorance, people’s blind belief in something they don’t understand, racism, homophobia, when women are treated as lesser beings, bullying of any kind. I can go on for a while.... 

91. Do you like your own name? Not much. My mom wanted to name me Anna, I wish she did 

92. Did you ever get a foreign object up your nose? No

93. Do you want a boy or a girl for a child? I don’t want to have kids

94. What talents do you have? Rumour has it my writing is decent, but I don’t know if it’s a talent or a skill 

95. Sun or moon? Moon

96. How did you get your name? I think my father chose it which he had no right to do 

97. Are you religious? Not at all. I guess I’m spiritual to a degree? I do believe in karma 

98. Have you ever been to a therapist? Yes, and I am probably not done 

99. Color of your bedspread? Beige with pink embroidery 

100. Color of your room? My whole apt is essentially one room and it is light beige 

tagging: @wonderrbat, @wondrousdianas, @crownstealer, @fybarnes, @betholsen, @thatgirlyouvenevertalkedto, @akastarlord, @dreamer-wisher-liar, @jessellin, @hufflehugg

[woodworkingpastor]

Many Persons – One Body -- Acts 6:1-7 -- April 18, 2021 -- Third Sunday of Easter

The Lord is risen!

He is risen indeed!

We tend to focus our holiday attention on the lead up to the event, which means we move on from them too quickly. We don’t want to move on too quickly from Easter. Just as we spent the 40 days of Lent preparing for the death and resurrection of Jesus, we want to be aware of this time between Jesus’ resurrection and ascension.

What might ask ourselves, what date defines our time? September 11, 2001? Those who are deeply concerned about the rise of mass-casualty shootings in America often name December 14, 2012—the date of the Sandy Hook shooting—as significant because of how little impact the mass murder of 20 first graders had on our attitude toward guns. How about 2020 in general?

For the church, events that happened in 33 AD are what governs our time and our thinking. How do we live today in light of what happened in 33 AD? Please pray with me:

Lord, help us to see:

to see what is eternally good and true,

and having seen, to go on searching

until we come to the joys of heaven.

This we ask through Jesus Christ our Redeemer, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever. Amen.

Practitioners of the Kingdom of God

We have followed the Narrative Lectionary through the Gospel of Luke since the Sunday before Christmas, simply taking the assigned text as it comes to us. We’re approaching the end of this year’s Narrative Lectionary cycle with three Sundays in the Book of Acts and then three more in Paul’s letter to the Galatians. Acts is helpful to us as we learn how to live in light of 33 AD. Acts provides glimpses into how the early Christians were practitioners of the Kingdom of God in the years following Jesus’ resurrection.

That word “practitioners” is an interesting one; you’ve probably heard the quip about not wanting to go to a doctor who is only “practicing” medicine, you want one who knows what he or she is doing! Of course, that’s not what the word means. To be a “practitioner” is to be one who is actively engaged in an art, discipline, or profession. So in this sense we see the early church “practicing” Christianity in the sense that they are actively engaged in what it means to follow Jesus in a particular time and place.

Their constant focus—which was also an opportunity and a struggle—was to follow the Spirit’s leading to bring all persons into the body of Christ. Acts 6:1-7 shows us the kinds of situations we will encounter as practitioners of the Kingdom of God. Just a chapter before today’s passage, we read a description of a church where there are no needy people.

Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold (Acts 4:32-34).

But when we arrive at Acts 6 we find that the relationships in the church have gotten a bit more complicated:

Now during those days, when the disciples were increasing in number, the Hellenists complained against the Hebrews because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution of food (Acts 6:1).

Here, we find the church does have needy people in it, and the needs of those persons aren’t being met—they might even be overlooked or ignored. Acts does not view the early church through rose-colored glasses; in today’s text we find that the church is experiencing some growing pains. It’s not clear if this is more of an administrative problem or more of a racial problem—it’s probably a combination of the two.

What seems clear is that this is an entirely believable problem because even as the practice of our faith moves us to be more like Jesus, our stubborn human nature is still with us. As we learn to view one another though Kingdom-colored lenses, our vision remains tainted with our old fallenness. Acts 6 describes a church comprised of people who are racial, cultural, and economic strangers to one another. As such, they struggle with the sin of partiality—they show favoritism based on earthly characteristics.

James wrote about the sin of partiality in his letter:

My brothers and sisters, do you with your acts of favoritism really believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ? For if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say, “Have a seat here, please,” while to the one who is poor you say, “Stand there,” or, “Sit at my feet,” have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts? (James 2:1-4).

The temptation is to relate to people based on appearances and categories. But in the Kingdom, we seek to see things made whole.

It would be somewhat easy to be an armchair quarterback here and criticize the church of Acts 6 for their struggle to enjoy renewed relationships across ethnic and economic boundaries. But what we see in this passage is exactly the kind of thing we ought to expect when we are doing our job! When the church is more than just a comfortable place for the already committed but is instead a place where people encounter the resurrected Jesus and accept his invitation to take up their cross and follow, then we will encounter the messiness of transformation, because life in Jesus is different from life in the world.

In the Church of the Brethren, I regularly encounter this clash of values in the new members class when we do the lesson on Biblical non-resistance (the peace position). No one ever objects to the lesson on prayer, or mission, or Oak Grove’s history. But when it comes to the Church of the Brethren belief that war is sin, people start to get uncomfortable, not because people believe war is good, but because we have been shaped to believe it is sometimes necessary. In that lesson we encounter a place where what the world teaches and what the Gospel teaches are quite different. My response is always the same, “we are not asking you to affirm this to become a member of our church. But we absolutely believe that if you hang around with us long enough, Jesus will change your mind.”

Overcoming the old with the new

The church of Acts 6 had two simultaneous tasks: seeing many people come to faith in Jesus and overcoming old thinking. Their response is two-fold.

First, they empower those bringing the complaint to look among themselves and appoint leaders to address the issue. But not just anyone is to be selected; the ones called deacons are to be

of good standing [and] full of the Spirit and of wisdom (Acts 6:3)

Deacon ministry may be primarily focused on the administrative task of food distribution, but it remains a leadership position where the most qualified persons for the job are the ones who were likely already functioning in that role.

From these beginnings, the church has long prioritized deacon ministry. Writing late in the first century, early church leader Ignatius of Antioch said of deacons

It is necessary that those who are deacons of the mysteries of Jesus Christ please everyone in every respect. For they are not merely deacons of food and drink, but ministers of God’s church. Therefore they must avoid criticism as though it were fire.

But Ignatius had something to say about deacon ministry to the rest of us, too:

Similarly, let everyone respect the deacons as Jesus Christ, just as they should respect the bishop, who is a model of the Father and the presbyters and God’s council and as the band of the apostles.

This is necessary because deacon ministry demonstrates that power and authority in the church is not practiced by having control over people; Godly leadership invests in serving the people on the bottom of societal structures. The church of Acts 6 had encountered a very believable problem where the church’s growth had outpaced the maturity of its members. Deacons are appointed because the church is to be a visible demonstration of the kingdom of God. We are to literally structure ourselves to value the most vulnerable in our midst. Not just tolerate or make accommodations for, but actually structure ourselves in this fashion.

In some ways we recognize the importance of this by our presence outside the sanctuary; in these days of pandemic we realize the most important question for us is “not where I want to worship” but “how do we need to structure our worship to protect and honor the most vulnerable in our midst?” How we respond to situations like these—be they food distribution in Acts 6 or our own need for deacons in our day have an administrative component to them, but they are ultimately questions of how we are practitioners of the kingdom of God.

There is a second reason why the apostles call for deacons to be appointed:

we, for our part, will devote ourselves to prayer and to serving the word (Acts 6:4)

The division of labor in the church recognizes the importance of prayer, discipleship, and the proclamation of the word of God. The apostles maintain their focus on bringing people into the family because as I’ve noted, the church is not just a comfortable place for the committed, it is an outward-focused community working to reconcile all things under the lordship of Christ. Prayer and scripture are the primary means through which we will overcome things like the sin of partiality which leads us to treat people according to the patterns and categories of this world, or to accept the inevitability of war as the only option simply because earthly kingdoms lack the ability to find other solutions to the problems that face us. Prayer and scripture are the places where our lives are transformed and we live into these days of resurrection where our lives are shaped by the events of 33 AD, not the events of 9/11/01 or 12/14/12 or 2020 or any other date, or time, or ideology.

It is in this context of this kind or church where we read

The word of God continued to spread; the number of the disciples increased greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many of the priests became obedient to the faith (Acts 6:7).

Even unlikely people—like Jewish priests—came to see the truth about Jesus and chose to have their lives defined by 33AD. On a day when we install new deacons to serve among us—and to be highly respected by each of us—may the practice of our faith also be like that of the early church where even the unlikeliest of people find their lives shaped through prayer, Scripture, and the overcoming of sin. Let us practice our faith together with great enthusiasm and great joy.

[dhyanposts]

How to learn Sanskrit - Sanskrit Kaise Sikhe

How to learn Sanskrit

Sanskrit Kaise Sikhe: Interest in learning Sanskrit (How to Learn Sanskrit) and reviving our culture is on the increase among the young citizens of our country. I often write Sanskrit-related answers and that I get tons of messages from different people about how they will learn Sanskrit. I have followed the unconventional method of learning various languages in my life. I don't believe in memorizing the rigid rules of grammar. we'd like to follow the principles, but only after acquiring elementary knowledge within the language. - How to learn Hindi – Hindi Kaise Sikhe (10 Easy Tips)

Get Started with Sanskrit

There are countless web portals for Online Sanskrit. All are important in their title, there's also a flaw. Can use anyone. If you're determined to review regularly, then you'll contact me. Note- For the last eleven years, there has been a chance to show traditional and foreign students during the National Sanskrit Sansthan (under MHRD), and Nalanda University. and therefore the culmination of this is often my book published from LAP Germany. Basic Sanskrit for Beginners. - How to learn C programming language – What is C programming language

संस्कृत कैसे सीखें || How to learn Sanskrit

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How to learn Sanskrit for beginners

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How to Learn Sanskrit easily in Hindi

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How to Learn Sanskrit Easily and Quickly in Odia

There are big misconceptions about Sanskrit that it's an old language, a difficult language, nobody speaks it, grammar has got to be memorized etc. Whereas basically it's necessary to know the thought that Sanskrit is that the basic a part of all Indian mother tongues. there's a misconception within the mind about Sanskrit that something new will need to be learned. Know Hindi, know English then you furthermore may know Sanskrit. what's kitsch? that's why it's necessary to know that Sanskrit is that the purest a part of of these mother tongues. that's Sanskrit. That is, Sanskrit is already there altogether of those . Indian languages are just a variant sort of these. Some dialects and a few don't even have their own independent grammar. - How To Study Faster: 50 Tricks to study Faster and More Effectively

How to learn Sanskrit BAMS | संस्कृत कैसे Sikhe

It is an equivalent with programming languages. Often visible languages aren't tight. Their grammar isn't so stable. In such a situation, these changes happen from time to time. The work done today isn't necessarily of any use tomorrow. In such a situation, if the work of a significant programmer is in one language today, then it's not necessary that it should be useful for them tomorrow. Only then the longer term of the language must be firm. Such models also are available but there are just one or two. While the remainder are extracted only thanks to market or other reasons. The thing to know is that these aren't required because the work are often done mainly by mixing one (or two) languages. It is an equivalent with Sanskrit. If we glance at the journey of the country of Israel, then what proportion has it grown since this country used its maternal language Hebrew. - How to Play Guitar – Learn to Play Guitar

How to Learn Sanskrit Yoga Poses

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Sanskrit bhasha bolne or sikhne ka aasan trika

Sanskrit Bharti is taught free Sanskrit. it's its head office in Bangalore and has branches in cities like Lucknow, Delhi, Kanpur, Lakhimpur and lots of more states. This institution organizes a free ten-day address camp, during which people of any caste, age, class can participate. Apart from this, a residential camp is additionally organized. Fees for this camp are fixed. This camp is of 10 or 15 days. By participating in it, anyone can speak, read and write Sanskrit fluency. - How To Convert Image To PDF For Free Using Mobile or Laptop: Easy Steps

संस्कृत कैसे सीखें Easily

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संस्कृत की reading कैसे करें

Therefore, this is often a significant thought and what's often seen now's that Sanskrit is already available in Indian mother tongues. Their refined form is Sanskrit. That is, we don't got to understand something different. Their purification reaches Sanskrit itself. Sanskrit is my favorite subject. It doesn't require much time and diligence to find out Sanskrit. Just you've got to find out this language with full devotion. - How To Recover Deleted Emails In Gmail And Back to Inbox

संस्कृत कैसे पढ़ेंगे

Sanskrit analysis, deliberation, discussion is that the most available in Sanskrit. But because our own language isn't sophisticated, we cannot read it. The Sanskrit of the Bhagavad Gita isn't difficult but there should be some general Sanskrit to know it. If you're reading a category 12 math or science book in English but you've got read up to class 3 English then you'll not be ready to read the category 12 book. an equivalent happens with Sanskrit during this sequence. Either we don't know in the least or we expect that if we come then it should be pure at the extent of grammar. Whereas for all other languages, we don't think so. People make many mistakes within the folk dialects, yet they still speak. But misconceptions are related to Sanskrit. Either you'll not speak otherwise you will speak, it should be absolutely hundred percent correct and it'll take tons of your time to find out it again. Such thoughts remain within the mind. it's necessary to start out at some level. - How to learn Hindi – Hindi Kaise Sikhe (10 Easy Tips) - How to learn C programming language – What is C programming language - How To Speak Korean Language – Korean Language For Beginners - How To Learn Telugu – Understanding Telugu Vocabulary and Grammar - What is Python? | What is Python used for | How to learn Python - How To Study Faster: 50 Tricks to study Faster and More Effectively - How to Play Guitar – Learn to Play Guitar Read the full article

[owicpub]

Hezekiah’s Prayer

Hezekiah’s Prayer is Part 2 of the Kings of All Creation series (Josiah’s Sanctification is the first part). This book teaches us about prayer from the life of King Hezekiah, who brought two key prayers before the Lord.

[More Details and Links]

Here is an excerpt from Hezekiah’s Prayer

Learning Objectives

Prayer is at once a simple task which a person new to Christ utters without deep understanding of what it really is or does, while at the same time is also so complicated that a lifelong study on prayer still fails to give us total understanding of what it is or how it works.

This little book is a primer to get us started with some basics on prayer. Our intention is to start with the easiest of prayers, “God, be merciful to me, the sinner! (Luke 18:13)” and conclude the book understanding what a life of prayer can mean for Christians as we walk our lives daily before God.

I have called upon You, for You will answer me, O God; Incline Your ear to me, hear my speech. (Psalm 17:6)

To Be Heard in Prayer

The first book in this series, Josiah’s Sanctificationi, taught us the importance of being sanctified and how we can achieve being like Christ in our Christian walk. Sanctification generally precedes our prayers because without sanctification in the life of a believer, God will not hear us:

If I regard wickedness in my heart, The Lord will not hear. (Psalm 66:18)

To understand this concept completely, we need to start with a few principles. First, a person who is not yet a Christian who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved:

And it will come about that whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be delivered (Joel 2:32; Acts 2:21, Romans 10:13)

This initial prayer, said with faith and belief, ushers us into the kingdom of heaven. Without this prayer, we cannot be saved, and a sinner who has just confessed their need for Christ is hardly sanctified. Like the thief on the cross crucified with our Lord, once we see the depth of our sin and call on Jesus for salvation, such a prayer saves us:

One of the criminals who were hanged there was hurling abuse at Him, saying, “Are You not the Christ? Save Yourself and us!” But the other answered, and rebuking him said, “Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” And he was saying, “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!” And He said to him, “Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise (Luke 23:39-43).”

Once we are saved, we have the command from Christ to begin walking with God. We will not discuss that matter in great detail here since that was the thesis of the first book in this series. When we accept the title of ‘Christian’ we are thus commanded to walk in a manner worthy of His name:

So this I say, and affirm together with the Lord, that you walk no longer just as the Gentiles also walk, in the futility of their mind (Ephesians 4:17).

If we are constantly living our life outside His will and teaching, we are not even doing the simple first things He calls us to do. Our calls on Him will go unanswered:

Then they will call on me, but I will not answer; They will seek me diligently but they will not find me, Because they hated knowledge And did not choose the fear of the Lord. (Proverbs 1:28-29)

The important first learning objective to be heard in prayer is to be sanctified by studying the Scriptures and hiding the Word in our hearts that we may not sin against God (Psalm 119:11).

Prayer, Change, Us, and God

As we embark on our study of prayer, we need to ask to what end we are praying. Can our prayers change the path of an immutable God? Are our prayers more about bringing our will in alignment with His will? If God knows all things already, why are we praying at all? I hope to answer these questions now.

One of the attributes of God described in theology is His immutability. This word literally means unchangeable, or without variance. The doctrine means God is the same yesterday, today, and forever as extracted from Hebrews 13:8 among other verses in the Bible. The question before us now is whether our prayers can change an unchangeable God.

This difficult answer is not entirely settled in the world of Christendom, but I will do my best to answer the questions based on my understanding after weighing many arguments on the subject from many different theologians.

First, God is never informed of anything we need, even as we pray (1 John 3:20). There is no thing in this world He does not already know, yet He still commands us to come to Him in prayer (Ephesians 6:18), even when we do not know how to pray in a given situation (Romans 8:26). We can only assume He calls for us to pray as a test. Are we going to be obedient to bring even the most difficult tasks to His attention in prayer?

C.S. Lewis writes an illustrative scene about prayer and God’s sovereignty in The Magician’s Nephewii. Digger, Polly, and Fledge stop to camp on the way to the garden to pluck the fruit at Aslan’s request. As they stop, Digger and Polly announced their hunger and say they should have asked Aslan for food to take on the journey. Digger says the great lion should have known they needed food, but Fledge rebukes him saying that Aslan is probably a person who likes to be asked for things, even though he already knows what is needed.

God knows what we need but when we withhold the request, he withholds our needs as a generality. This means that somewhere in the mystery of God’s sovereignty He makes ready what we need and delivers it upon our requests. I do not think God’s mind is changed, even in the situation we will see later when Hezekiah receives a different answer from God about his illness before and after his prayers.

Taken together, we cannot change God’s mind, but somewhere in the mystery of our faith we are given our desires that are in alignment with His will. This is what our prayer is for God: He wants us to ask for what He already knows we need, as a test of our obedience. So our prayers do not change God, they test us if we respond to His commands. Or put another way, prayer is about changing us by bringing our desires into alignment with God’s will.

Prayer and Worship

Our ultimate purpose is to worship God. We worship Him when we study our Scriptures, when we attend a church service or another gathering of believers to study the Word, when we sing praises, and as it relates to this book, we worship God when we pray.

Worship is to have fellowship with God, and we have no better direct fellowship than when we talk to Him. Prayer is a two way conversation, not just us listing off a lot of requests to make our lives better and happier as if we were perched on Santa’s lap awaiting the promises of Christmas. Instead, prayer is spending time with God, communicating, conversing, and waiting. While we do not generally audibly hear Him speaking back to us, we sense His providence in our life, and we feel His love as we continue on, knowing He has heard us.

When we approach prayer as a part of our worship, we are less concerned with our own desires and more concerned in spending time with Him. Our prayers can take the form of supplication, which is what we would call ‘prayer requests’, but there is a lot more to having a divine conversation than Him giving us things. In fact, when we think of our own personal, earthly desires for our worldly pleasures, that is the type of prayer He will not answer:

You ask and do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, so that you may spend it on your pleasures (James 4:3).

To contrast this, worship occurs when we draw near to Him and seek to please God in our life. The natural consequence of fellowship is exultation in the glory of God:

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Be miserable and mourn and weep; let your laughter be turned into mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves in the presence of the Lord, and He will exalt you (James 4:8-10).

When we approach the throne of God with a humble heart, seeking to please Him and to talk with Him, He exalts us beyond what we could imagine. To experience such closeness, start viewing prayer as a time to spend with God in conversation rather than going to Him to get your needs met.

Be Humble in Prayer

The final learning objective is to be humble in our prayers. It is very clear from many scriptures that pride is an offense to God, for even Satan was banished from heaven for being prideful in his attempt to usurp God (Isaiah 14:12-15).

Perhaps the best scripture about our need for being humble comes from the parable Jesus tells regarding the Pharisee and a tax collector praying in the temple (Luke 18:10-14):

Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and was praying this to himself: ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing some distance away, was even unwilling to lift up his eyes to heaven, but was beating his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, the sinner!’ I tell you, this man went to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.

The ultimate point of this parable is we can have everything looking correct in our life in terms of perfect tithing, perfect church attendance, and all the other things that come with being a ‘good Christian person’ but if we do not approach God with the humility He asks us for, He looks away (Matthew 23:12).

The humility required in prayer is akin to the love required in the church service (1 Corinthians 13:3). While we may have everything the world looks at in line with the Bible, God is the one who truly knows our heart, so our chief objective is to be humble as we approach the throne of God.

Prayer and The Word

We have already mentioned that prayer to receive our own desires is not honored by God, but can we ask for absolutely anything? Jesus suggests we can:

Truly I say to you, if you have faith and do not doubt, you will not only do what was done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ it will happen. And all things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive (Matthew 21:21-22).

Some have taken this verse to justify many of the faulty theologies including the health and wealth, name it and claim it gospels, but this expression is one of Jesus’s oft-used hyperbole. This particular section was dealing with unity. An examination of prayer shows us that we cannot move our local mountain with prayers, and that was not the point Jesus was making. His point was one of faith and obedience to the Word. In other words, when we pray, we must take out prayers to God based on what He has promised in His Word. Thus, we must pray the Word back to God and prepare our prayers as those which are aligned with God’s promises.

Chapter Summary

Our learning objectives for this chapter are to start with sanctification before we expect to have a deep prayer life with God. This means we are working hard to live for God before we desire to have Him give us things we ask for. Next, to understand why we pray, we need to consider that prayer is not about us getting what we want for our worldly pleasures, it is about bringing our will into alignment with God’s will. Third, we must approach prayer seeking to honor God in worship. Such prayer is not our one-sided begging of God, so consider prayer as both a conversation and a means of worship. Next, God must be approached with a humble heart. If we place our pride behind us and seek God fully, we will be heard in prayer, God will draw near to us, and we will receive His blessing. And finally, our prayers should reflect the Word God has given us in the Bible. Seeking things He has not promised is generally outside of His will.

iJosiah’s Sanctification, Thomas Murosky, 2019, Our Walk in Christ Publishing

iiThe Magician’s Nephew, C.S. Lewis, 1955, The Bodley Head

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[idreamofblini]

I should add the preliminary note: This is probably the only pseudo complex and surrealist dream I have ever had/ remembered that I had. Setting: a small village. Everyone is living perfectly normal lives. A friend who in real life previously had romantic inclinations towards me asks to marry me. I say yes and we are engaged. There is a hint that we aren’t really going to have a wedding. We’re just planning on eloping in about T+3 days. I like that this is very chill, but feel bad and guilty because my family won’t be involved and they’ll be offended after it happens. On the day that I am to go and elope, my older sister comes and she has an at home water birth. It is understood that the child is my kid with this friend that I’m engaged to and about to marry and my sister is the surrogate mother. When this is found out by all, my parents get REALLY upset. 1) because I was secretly engaged and about to elope 2) because THERE’S ALREADY A KID INVOLVED. A slightly more conscious side of my brain kicks in after computing what is going on and expressing it’s dislike of the situation: “WAIT. THIS CAN’T BE YOUR KID. YOUR SISTER WAS NEVER YOUR SURROGATE MOTHER. YOU NEVER DID ANYTHING TO HAVE HER BE YOUR SURROGATE MOTHER. ALSO. AND. KNOWING YOU, YOU’RE NOT HAVING A KID. ALSO. HUH. STRANGE. CAN YOU BE A VIRGIN AND HAVE A CHILD THROUGH SURROGATE MOTHERS? WAIT. THIS IS TOO WEIRD. THE PLOT NEEDS TO CHANGE. THIS IS ALL WRONG” I come back in my dream. Change of plot 1: THE TURN ON MY SISTER. “SISTER! this isn’t my kid! THIS IS YOUR KID! She even looks like your other kids!” Sister: “yeah, that’s true” “Why did you frame this as my child? Why can’t you admit you’re pregnant with your own kid?” THIS REMAINS UNRESOLVED! GASP! BECAUSE I NEED TO CHANGE OTHER ASPECTS OF THIS PLOT. LIKE THAT I’M ABOUT ELOPE WITH SOMEONE I DONT’ WANT TO ELOPE WITH. Change of plot two: TURN ON FRIEND I NEVER WANT TO BE WITH. Turn on man, point my finger: “THIS IS ALL WRONG. I DON’T EVEN LIKE YOU. GOOO AWAY. I’M NOT INTERESTED, I NEVER WAS. WHAT IN THE WORLD JUST HAPPENED? Resolve subplot two problem. Woman doesn’t need a man, and obviously learns her lesson about secretive romances. No not really. I just begin another secretive romance with another childhood friend. But it’s that classic dream-style surreal thing where though this person is in essence “~~~~” my childhood friend from Russia, though he has now been conveniently been put into the body of…. … Dylan Moran We walk around small village town to Nick Drake’s Northern Sky. I come across a movie theater. But it’s also a train station and the train station is written in hebrew letters. A taknat rakevet to be exact. I want a specific ticket that is both for a movie and for a train. Conscious voice awakes again, “Hey! I know where you are! The city planning for this town, and this strange decrepit movie theater building– this is Sulmona, in Italy! But this is kinda weird, because you’re living in a Salmon that is definitely in Israel. Also. Wh– what’s that? Oh everyone working in this building is speaking Ukrainian. Yeah. Okay. ALL MAKES SENSE. Italian town, Soviet decrepit theater, in Israel, Ukrainian language written in Hebrew. Great. GOT IT. Back to dream!” It’s a complex soviet style bureaucratic building and I’m wondering around asking people “where can I buy the tickets to the movie and for the train?” and they point me up and up and up and up a loonngg complex escher like staircase. Each time I get to a new landing I ask “where can I buy the tickets for the movie and the train? “ and they point me up and up and up . Finally a woman on the escher staircase an ambiguous distance away from me (since it’s an escher staircase) says “I’M COMING. FOR GOODNESS SAKE I’VE BEEN HEARING YOU ASK THIS FOR AGES NOW. I’M COMING. I’M THE DESK RIGHT THERE” I think: “Ah yes! This is wonderful post Soviet customer service! The customer is always wrong and at fault! Yes! Yes Yes!” I wait. She comes. And she’s grumpy. And I start to ask for the tickets for the movie and train. She looks at me befuddled “what? what do you want?” “… do you not sell tickets? WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” She says “it’s a creative work space. you can buy a card from me to rent a desk and you can work at the desk for as long as the time that you paid for” semi-conscious interrupting voice in my head: OH MY GOSH! AN ANTI-CAFE!! IT’S NOT WHAT YOU WANT, BUT IT’S KINDA ALSO WHAT YOU WANT. BECAUSE YOU NEED TO FINISH THAT THING. AND YOU WERE LOOKING AROUND KYIV FOR ANTI-CAFE’S ANYWAY! GREAT THAT YOU FOUND ONE THAT SPEAKS UKRAINIAN IN ISRAEL! back to dream: me: “an anti-cafe! great! let’s do that.” There are all these complications with buying this stupid card. The cards have strange time allotments all in fractals and symbols. We find one with a normal time- 90 minutes. She doesn’t have change for the 100 shekel bill I have. Another woman comes around and gets mad at me for not having the right change. At which point I start cry/ yelling out of frustration. And then secret romance man 2 comes. He gathers everyone in the building together and sings Rachmaninoff Vespers to them. Everyone is smiling, laughing, crying. And I look around and see that everyone has transformed. The Ukrainians are all Japanese. I think “If I sing a Ukrainian folk after this, would they let me buy the time allotment card for the anti cafe?” I wake up.

[toldnews-blog]

New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/sports/jews-to-the-gas-the-anti-semitism-shaming-dutch-soccer/

'Jews to the gas': The anti-Semitism shaming Dutch soccer

The dockworker, as it is known in English, stands as a permanent reminder of the day Amsterdam came together on February 25, 1941 to protest against the anti-Semitic laws imposed on its Jewish citizens by the Germans.

By the end of World War II, about 75% of the Dutch Jewish community had been wiped out.

At a time when anti-Semitism is on the rise in Europe, the vandalizing of the “De Dokwerker” statue last week caused headlines both inside and outside the country.

But the nature of the vandalism, the green and yellow paint on the statue, and the painting of green swastikas on the street, suggested a blurring of the lines between anti-Semitism, and hatred of the city’s football club, Ajax.

Throughout the Netherlands, and much of Europe, Ajax is known as a “Jewish club.” The vandalism, allegedly carried out by supporters of a rival football club in the Hague, shone a light on the complicated and often uneasy relationship between Ajax, the Jewish community and the anti-Semitism that it often attracts. ADO Den Haag, issued a statement in which it apologized for the graffiti.

Amsterdam was once a bustling center of Jewish life, home to the Sephardi community who arrived from Iberia in the 16th century, and to an Ashkenazi community who fled from Poland.

Before the Nazi invasion of the Netherlands in 1940, an estimated 80,000 of the country’s 140,000 Jews lived in Amsterdam.

Many of those who perished would go and watch Ajax, but it was really in the 1960s and 1970s that Ajax became known as a “Jewish club.”

Some of the chairmen who led the club during the 60s and 70s were Jewish, while it also had Jewish players such as Bennie Muller and Sjaak Swaart.

The club’s Jewish links often led to anti-Semitic abuse from rival supporters. To counter that, a section of fans began to fight back by calling themselves “Super Jews,” adopting the Israeli flag as a symbol and wearing the Star of David.

Like those who follow English club Tottenham Hotspur, this was seen as a response toward rival fans who used anti-Semitism to attack the Ajax support.

‘Nothing to do with Ajax’

“I don’t like it,” David Endt, Ajax’s general manager between 1997 and 2013, told CNN.

“It gives the other party an alibi, to shout wrong things about it, to hurt people who have nothing to do with football.

“They shouldn’t do it and I don’t think it’s right. I can understand fans a little, because they like walk behind the flag and have a symbol. But this is the wrong symbol, you know? Don’t start calling, ‘We are the Jews.'”

Endt, who is Jewish, also says the club itself must do more to tackle the problem, making education a key part of the solution.

“I think the club should do more,” he said. “You know, maybe with the younger kids, teach them the meaning of the, the Jewish flag, which has nothing to do with Ajax.

“You know, just a, a chosen symbol by, by some people at a certain time but it really has nothing to do with Ajax.”

Ajax told CNN it did not want to comment.

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Speaking to CNN, a number of Ajax supporters who refused to give their names, insisted the use of Jewish symbolism had nothing to do with religion.

“I think it’s a kind of culture, every club has that,” one fan said. Another added: “It’s nothing to do with that (religion), it’s just nostalgia for them.”

One supporter described the relationship as “complicated,” adding: “That’s heritage from a long way ago, it’s also the identity of Ajax.”

Another fan said: “I’m sure if you asked 50% of these fans if they could quote the first verse of the bible, they wouldn’t know what you were talking about.”

Off the field, the Dutch football authorities have made the eradication of anti-Semitism a priority.

Since 2016 the KNVB, the governing body of Dutch football, has met with Jewish groups to discuss tackling anti-Semitic chanting. Last year the body set up a working group along with a number of social interest groups to tackle discrimination as a whole.

Sanctions have been upgraded with clubs handed higher fines, partial stadium closures and individuals banned for up to five years for anti-Semitic chanting.

In addition, an education program has been set up to tackle racism and anti-Semitism in football.

In a statement sent to CNN, the KNVB said it was “important to stress that we take the matter of discrimination inside football stadiums very seriously, whether it be anti-Semitism or any other form of discrimination.”

Rising anti-Semitism

The link between Ajax, the Jewish community and anti-Semitism remains a highly divisive issue. Even now, near the stadium, Israeli flags can be seen in local shops.

Around 140,000 Jews, including 15,000 who had fled Germany, were living in the country when it was invaded by the Nazis in May 1940, according to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust memorial museum in Jerusalem.

It didn’t take long for anti-Semitic laws to be enacted and deportations to death camps to start.

Many were sent to Auschwitz and Sobibor via the transit camps of Westerbork or Vught. By the time the final transport left the Netherlands in September 1944, a total of 107,000 Jews had been deported to death camps, according to Yad Vashem.

Over 75% of Dutch Jewry perished in the Holocaust, the Jerusalem-based museum estimates. No other country, except Poland which lost 90% of its Jews, lost as much of its Jewish community in the Holocaust.

According to the Center for Information and Documentation on Israel (CIDI), anti-Semitic attacks increased by 40 percent in 2017, despite Jews making up less than 0.3% of the population in the Netherlands.

Figures showed that 41% of 144 criminal offenses upheld by the country’s judiciary, including vandalism, assault and incitement to violence, were carried out against Jews.

The figure has nearly doubled since 2016, where 22% of 163 cases were classified as anti-Semitic, according to the Dutch Public Prosecution Service.

The results fit a growing trend both in the Netherlands and within Europe itself.

According to a report published by the European Union in December 2018, 34% of Jewish people surveyed in Netherlands said they avoid visiting Jewish sites or events because they do not feel safe.

More than 16,000 people across 12 EU member states took part in the survey with around 90% of respondents saying they felt that antisemitism is growing in their country.

“There used to be a very thin layer of veneer of civilization over the anti-Semitism,” Esther Voet, editor of Jewish weekly newspaper NIW, told CNN.

“What you see now, especially with social media, is that that veneer has cracked, and the brown mud that’s under it is surfacing again.”

The advent of social media has led to many anti-Semitic incidents at football stadiums being shared online.

In February, footage emerged of a group of Feyenoord supporters chanting: “My father was with the commandos, my mother was with the SS. Together they burned Jews, because Jews who burn the best.”

The incident took place in Rotterdam ahead of the game with Ajax on January 29 — International Holocaust Remembrance Day.

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Other instances within Dutch football include Feyenoord fans taunting Ajax about Holocaust victims and AZ Alkmaar supporters chanting: “Hamas, Hamas, Jews to the gas,” during a fixture in December 2017.

Chants such as “Let’s go Jew hunting” and “If you don’t jump, you’re a Jew,” can also be heard from rival fans.

The history of the Jews and Ajax fans goes back a long way,” Voet explains “People are using this to make the most horrible songs, and they say, ‘Yeah, but it’s against Ajax, it’s not against Jews.’

“Well, guys, you are singing about Jews in the worst way. I think that also from the other side, far much more should be done. The boards of the clubs need to fight against this, and this is not happening.”

The relationship between sections of Ajax’s support and its appropriation of Jewish identity was highlighted in the 2013 documentary “Super Jews.”

Its director, Nirit Peled, who moved to Amsterdam from Tel Aviv, at the age of 22, recalls being on a tram with Ajax supporters waving Israeli flags and singing about being Jewish.

She remembers men singing the traditional Hebrew folk song ‘Hava Nagila,’ wearing the Star of David, and chanting incessantly about “Joden”, the Dutch word for “Jews.”

Initially disturbed by what she had seen, curiosity began to get the better of her.

“When I made this film, one of the questions people asked as an Israeli and a Jew was: ‘Are they (Ajax fans) anti-Semitic?’

“I don’t think it has anything with religion for them,” Peled says,

“I think it’s something that is taken out of context. They’re definitely taking a side and then the other one takes another side, and I can tell you for a fact that the Rotterdam supporters do not identify with the Palestinian cause,” she said.

“It’s very much a friction that’s created, again, based on kind of identities.”

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Peled believes that there is little animosity meant by the Ajax supporters, stressing that some of them may not even be aware of the connotations of their chants.

“The kids don’t understand the connection, ” she says. “A nice anecdote is that young people in Amsterdam today will go to a jeweler and ask for the ‘Ajax star.'”

“They don’t even know that it’s actually the Star of David. Today, it’s the Ajax star.

“What’s funny is that in the whole discussion about this phenomena, we’re not asking ourselves why the word Jew is still a curse word.”

CNN’s Sean Coppack reported from Amsterdam. James Masters wrote from London.