#but perfect love cast out fear

[mostesteemedgingeroverlord]

I’m watching friendships fall apart before my eyes and it’s breaking my heart. Years long friendships crumbling over such foolish things. I hate that I can’t do anything. I know that I’m not capable of being completely unbiased and even if I was, my interference likely would just make the situation worse. But it’s killing me and I hate it. Yet even in my complaining and crying, God is reminding me to give it back to Him. To know that prayer is my greatest tool, to ask my Father to fix what I can’t, to protect me from such conflict.

[swan2swan]

Keep your eyes on the road at all times.

[foxbox21212]

[thebirdandhersong]

Noooo crazy lady in a frilly lizard dress don't tell Emma she isn't loved that is a LIE

[lettersfromgod]

📖 Source: https://www.thevolumesoftruth.com/Words_To_Live_By:_Part_One#Responsibility

▶️ Video/Playlist: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PiJgptu7fv8&list=PLE8FlkxQPQkMinJ_T3GF3VuXpPKyIQyYK&index=66

[psalmonesermons]

Dealing with fear Part 4: Four more types of fear

In this part of our study we consider a further 4 types of fear that are experienced by people in general, but also includes believers.

5. Fear of circumstances or consequences

An example of this type of fear is found with the prophet Elijah who after having destroyed the prophets of Baal, heard that the wicked Queen Jezebel was seeking revenge on Elijah. This produced fear and worry, and Elijah ended up hiding in a cave. At this point God gave Elijah various tasks to keep his mind off the threat of Jezebel. So when you experience this type of fear try to keep busy and remember to rehearse all the promises God has made to you in his word.

The enemy says no good deed goes unpunished; the Lord says no good deed goes unrewarded!

Scripture Antidote

Matthew 6:25 (Jesus speaking) Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

6. Fear of the unknown or future

This is a common type of fear, and a biblical example is that of Gideon. Gideon needed extra assurances from the Lord demonstrated by his laying out a fleece on more than one occasion which surprisingly God honoured. At the end of his career Gideon because he needed to know the future took the gold earrings of the Amalekites and melted them and fashioned the gold into a golden ephod (only the high priest was allowed to do this to get the word of the Lord for the future). So Gideon because of his fears for the future led Israel astray into idolatry[1].

We must realise 3 things about the future

a. God has a plan for your life

b. God’s grace is sufficient for you

c. God will provide exactly what you need at the point it is needed (not before).

7. Fear caused by sin

Proverbs 28:1 The wicked flee when no man pursueth: but the righteous are bold as a lion.

Fear can grip wicked people to the extent they run away even when no one is chasing them!

Isaiah 33:14 The sinners in Zion are afraid; fearfulness hath surprised the hypocrites.

Sin produces fear, but righteous living produces peace.

We all need to keep short accounts with the Lord using where relevant 1 John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

8. Irrational fears (phobias)

These fears are common even amongst believers and include fear of mice, spiders, snakes, and moths etc etc. These phobias are quite lightweight and usually can be removed by believing prayer.

Such fears can be like inherited fears where a child sees a parent overreacting to for example a mouse or other creature. It is as though the fear is transmitted from adult to child.

Scripture vs Fear

1 John 4:18 There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.

Perfect love casts out fear, as we deal with fear in our lives the fear demons leave.

The more filled we are with his love the less room for fear to enter.

The more aware we are of God’s love for us the more confident we are he will help us

2 Timothy 1:7 For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

So where did the fear come from?

Prayer, Lord, we thank you for your keys for us to walk free from all ungodly fear.

Please give us a revelation of who we are in Christ.

Amen

[1] The Ephod that Gideon built was his own personal idol; perhaps a golden calf made from the gold he plundered in the battle, which became a stumbling block to his own household and all of Israel. This is the final downturn of his character and falling away of the one true God (see Judges 8:22-27).

[giantsinthemist]

If Hate conceals Fear, Why do I Hate those I do not Fear? Impulsive rage consuming, Insidious against another. Fear does not reside in Love, Yet its dominance in one aspect, Drives away all Love that’s weak. And so it goes that hate unfounded, Might stem not from absent Love, But stronger Fear’s effect seeping through, Permeating every thought, Overtaking neutrality too. And where Love does not reside, Hatred takes its place. What little Love that did escape it, Weak and paralyzed, false indifference. -GITM “Collection 1: False (Hate)"

For Those Who Used To Love

[dkcdude]

Running toward Heaven or Fleeing from Hell?

There are, of course, many different reasons people choose to follow Jesus, but I would assert that most of them can be reduced at their core to one of two driving forces: running toward heaven or fleeing from hell. For running toward heaven, I think of people who are motivated by the idea of spending eternity in paradise, face-to-face and arm-in-arm with the Triune God. They are eager to enjoy…

[tom4jc]

November 26, 2023 Verse Of The Day

[livingwellnessblog]

There Is No Fear In Love

There Is No Fear In Love | Creation is Finished There Is No Fear In Love, bur perfect love casts out fear. This is a love that is above human, connected to our God, his love is perfect and casts out fear. A state of perfect love is VOID of fear The Great I Am. 1 John 4:18 (NIV) “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who…

[jefferisp7]

The Spirits of Fear, Horror and Witchcraft

There are 2 types of fear: Fear of the Lord, and Fear of the Devil. Satan's desire is to make you afraid of him and forget about fearing the Lord. The spirit of fear can enter us in many ways. What we watch, through the occult, through witchcraft.

Fear, Horror, & Witchcraft The Spirit of Fear, Horror and Witchcraft 2 Timothy 1:6–7 For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands, for God has not given us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control. 1 John 4:16–18 ESV So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and…

[snowballseal]

Sleepy Affection

Sylus X Reader

Summary: You're tired. Sylus is the best cuddle partner. Lots of soft love here. That's it.

Word Count: 1061

Note: Self indulgent really, I have a hard time with burnout and sleeping in general, but I know cuddling with this man would solve all of that. Sorry if I overused adjectives.

---

Days as a hunter are long. It’s a part of the job, always being alert, always willing to help when the need arises. And you love it. You love being awake before the sun rises, and the exhaustion in your limbs as you walk home. It satisfies the restlessness in your bones.

But still, it’s hard to not hit burnout eventually.

You can feel it weighing down your body as you step out of headquarters. The sun is just rising over Linkon, and you narrow your eyes up at the sky. Of course you worked through the night. It was that or let your paperwork drag into your weekend. Maybe not the best decision. You sigh, rolling your shoulders. Every muscle in your body aches for sleep.

You don’t want to go home, though. It would be too quiet, too empty. If anything, you would probably end up staring at your ceiling, impossibly restless despite how tired you are. And that sounds absolutely awful.

Before you can think too hard about it, your feet are carrying you towards the transit center. To the one place where you feel safe, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t.

---

The N109 Zone is strangely quiet in the early morning gloom. The streets are nearly empty, the only sound coming from the electric buzz of the overhead wires and the snuffling of a stray dog on the corner. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if being a criminal makes you allergic to the day. Or maybe they’re all vampires. An amused hum dances past your lips at the thought. Perhaps they’re not after the aether core in your heart, but your blood.

One man seems to be at least.

By the time you reach Sylus’ place, it feels like you're walking through a light fog. Or stepping into a dream. The home greets you with a pleasant warmth that eases the tension in your muscles. Music drifts through the halls, distant and fuzzy with that old quality that vinyl has. Like a siren song, it draws you deeper into the dark comfort of the manor.

Right to your sleeping dragon.

Even while he’s sleeping, Sylus looks…dignified. Ethereal even. The soft light peaking through his curtains casts a glow on his features, dancing across his white lashes, making them almost look like snowflakes. Your eyes trail over the relaxed line of his jaw, the contours of his chest and shoulders. He lies so still, you could almost believe he’s a statue, if not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He just looks so…perfect.

It’s hard to believe that this is Onychinus’ feared leader. 

Toeing off your boots, you tread carefully to the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets soft and silky under your fingers. Sylus lets out a low sigh at the movement, red eyes flickering open ever so slightly before falling back shut. Without a word, he shifts and lifts the sheets for you to crawl in next to him.

His warmth draws you in, just like his wispy, old music. You can’t resist it, not that you want to. It’s all the invitation you need to tuck yourself as close as possible, like an exhausted little kitten looking for a safe place to sleep. Sylus immediately draws your leg over his hip, long fingers kneading lazily at your thigh. Every part of you presses against his addicting warmth, drawing a content hum from your lips, completely pliant under his touch. He could do anything to you right now and you wouldn’t complain. But there’s an almost reverent feeling to the way he holds you, the way he traces shapes along your skin and presses gingerly into your wound up muscles.

It’s a rare moment of pure gentleness. No teasing quips. No haughty smirk. Just you and Sylus, the air between you thick with something so incredibly tender. You stay like that for what feels like forever, time lost to soft touches and quiet sighs. Neither of you are willing to break whatever spell has fallen over the room. 

Soon enough, though, the weight of your eyelids becomes too difficult to fight. You tuck your face into the curve of his throat, the scent of his cologne washing over your senses. It’s spicy and warm, like worn leather and rum, just so perfectly Sylus.

You wish you could stay like this forever, floating pleasantly on the edge of sleep with him. Just with him. An indescribable fondness curls somewhere deep in your chest.

“I missed you,” you admit into the crook of his neck, your voice thick with sleep and something vulnerable.

“Mmmm, I was wondering why you crawled into my bed in the middle of the morning.” 

He wasn’t, really. You both feel it whenever you can’t see each other for too long. It’s like the worst feeling of homesickness. He won’t admit to it, but you can feel it in the way his arms curl possessively around your waist, like he never wants to let you go. You slide a hand up to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heart under your palm. You’ve missed this. Sylus shivers at your teasing touch, those red eyes finally flickering open again to look down at you, half-lidded and unfocused. You hold his gaze, trying to memorize every detail, every fleck of color, the dark gleam of fondness in their depths, matching your own. This is the real Sylus. Gentle and kind, passion burning just below the surface. The one only you get to see. And you love him more than you’ll ever be able to explain.

You curl your arms around his narrow waist, forehead pressing against his chest, “Is it okay that I came?”

You already know the answer. Still, Sylus humors you.

“I would have it no other way,” he rumbles lowly, lips brushing against your hair. “Now rest, sweetheart, I can tell how tired you are. We can talk in the evening.”

You hum, eyes finally falling shut, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

And just like that, you find it impossible to stay awake any longer, lulled by his words and the sound of his breathing. Every nerve, every worry, washes away, leaving you to fall into the darkness you’ve been craving, dreaming of the weekend you can spend together.

---

Honestly took so long to write. I wanted to moment to feel soft and more drawn out, don't know if it worked. But I hope y'all liked it :)

[mystic-evangeline]

Dear Lord. YHWH. Father God. Lord Jesus Christ, move my heart I pray for the salvation of many souls today. Today is the day of eternal salvation. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Thank You for moving my heart and soul today so that it has more room for healing and freedom from a religious spirit, freedom from a judgmental spirit, freedom from a gossiping and backbiting spirit. Freedom from a condemning and vile spirit Satan has no grip on me. His power is NULLIFIED & no longer active. I speak blessings over my enemies, my friends, my loved ones. Everyone around me, no more curses or backbiting or vile words so that my abominable words can fall to the dust. My vices shall be given unto YOU as I wholly surrender to Your love. The purity of Your heart, the tenderness of Your spirit. I have sinned gravely against You. I have spoken vile words. I have judged and condemned, when we all know that is directly from the enemy. I pray for eternal love and forgiveness. I pray for the realization of the beauty around him. I pray for the withering and destruction of torment itself. For depression and melancholy to cease. For the joy of the Lord to fill him You are loved.

[thebirdandhersong]

buddy saying on the disintegrating bridge that he's not afraid anymore!!!!!

[sunnami]

the (poly) marauders + lily as reversed tropes.

a/n: i tried moving to a new blog.. possibly got shadowbanned... that other blog is now my dump blog, LMAO. pls enjoy this drabble!

i. academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class.

“It’s driving me mad, Prongs,” says a frazzled Remus Lupin, pacing back and forth in his nearly-empty classroom. Sirius watches from where he sits backwards on a wooden chair—not at all concerned with the woes of his lover, rather preoccupied with the derriere of the DADA professor, hugged beautifully by his trousers. (He makes a mental note to thank Lily and her shopping sprees in Muggle London later. And, thoroughly.) Lily eyes Remus warily, ignoring the way James is tugging at her newly-trimmed hair like a lovesick fourth-year. 

“I’ve fought in the bloody war, what do you mean my ‘pronunciation could do with some work’?” Remus scoffs, a bewildered expression on his flushed cheeks. Then, he points to the basket of lemon poppy-seed muffins, “And, the gall to send me that. Can you believe it?”

“No way,” Lily widens her eyes in mock outrage, gasping for melodramatic effect. “How dare anyone send our sweet, darling Remus homemade muffins?”

Remus dangles the swing handle of the wicker basket by his hand, nose scrunched in disgust as though it could turn him into a werewolf for the second time. “It’s not about the baskets, Lily! It’s a fear-mongering tactic—a threat, if you will. If Gryffindor doesn’t win the house cup, I might as well resign from my post.” 

James chortles, leaning back against his seat to fully stare at Remus. (And what a lovely face he has.) “Don’t you think you’re going overboard there, Moony? We’ve won the bloody thing every year—and if we’re running behind Hufflepuff, I can always give ickle Harry a hundred points for being our son. Quite a feat, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lily smacks him on the arm. “Don’t you dare, James Fleamont Potter!” 

Sirius whistles. “Full name. Yikes. You’re on your own there, mate.” 

James glares at him. “I’ve had my tongue down your throat, don’t call me ‘mate’.” 

Grinning, Sirius diverts his attention back to the pouting werewolf, struck by whatever magical spell you’ve cast on him—and their happy little wedded bunch. (He particularly likes the way you raise your voice when the Weasley twins charm your greenhouse with the colors of maroon and yellow. The upturn of your nose and raw fury in your eyes does something funny to his heart.) “Be honest, Moony, you’re just frustrated because our favorite professor is wearing those bell-bottom jeans that make their legs look just utterly delectable,” he grins salaciously. 

“Can confirm,” replies Lily with a chirpy nod. “The back view is even better.” 

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point, my love,” Remus splutters with a cough. “It’s a matter of legacy and pride now. If—”

“While I appreciate being the topic of conversation, I’ve come to collect my students’ papers on Hinkypunks and Dugbogs,” you enter the fray with a knock on the door, startling them from their conversation; a wide smile on your face and a yellow scarf around your neck. “You see, I like to give them points myself when they score above a hundred percent. It really motivates them for the end-of-year exams.” 

James beams at your arrival, like a sunflower blooming under sunlight on a summer day. He stretches his arms wide, a space perfectly carved for you. “Come here, darling,” he calls out for his spouse, quickly affirming that the jeans you’re wearing is a blessing to the wizard kind. (He wonders if you’d let him peel it off you tonight.) As you perch yourself atop his lap, James nuzzles the crook of your neck, pressing soft, butterfly kisses to your skin. “How was your day?”

He captures your lips and you eagerly lean into his warmth. “Perfect now that I’ve found you all. Why were you hiding here, anyway?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at Remus. “Did you get my gift, Moony? The elves helped me with it last night.”

“He’s just cross because you’ve become the entire castle’s favorite teacher in your first year,” Lily points out treacherously, flashing her doe eyes at Remus. (Great, now he’s got two pairs of the prettiest eyes on earth staring into his soul. He’s so beyond in love with everyone in this room.) “Not even the Malfoy kid complains about you, and he still grumbles when I have to do my yearly check-ups.”

You laugh knavishly, beckoning him over. “Is it my fault that I’m so lovable?” 

Remus scoffs, yet finds his feet drawn towards you in long, impatient strides. He leans down until the scent of ambrarome and coconut overwhelms your senses. You tug on his duck-printed tie, smiling as he grumbles lightheartedly into your lips, “Not at all, darling.”

“Shall I lock the doors now?” Sirius offers mischievously. “I’ve always wanted to do it in a classroom.”

ii. it’s too hot to cuddle!

“Mmmrgh, Lily, get off, you fiend,” you groan into the sweat-soaked pillow, suffering from one of the worst heat waves Godric’s Hollow has ever seen—swatting your wife away as she throws her leg over your thigh, impishly nibbling on your neck. On any other day, you’d relish the feel of her skin on yours, the tendrils of her flaming red hair tickling your bare arms—or the times you’d wake up to a tangled mess of crimson in your mouth. But today is just not that day.

Lily sniffles. “Ah, woe is me. My own son doesn’t want to hug me anymore, and none of the people I married want to cuddle me on this dreadful—what ever happened to ‘til death do us part’, you traitors?” 

You roll over on the bed to face her with an incredulous glare—the pretty witch has the nerve to smile at you. “Don’t be so dramatic, Lily. Just cast another cooling charm, or something.”

Lily flops onto her side of the king-sized bed, breathless and flushed, arms splayed out like an octopus—wincing apologetically when she hits you in the face by accident. “I already did. We might just have to get naked to put up with this heat.”

James pokes his head through the door, glasses forgone and black hair messily strewn over his eyes; the damp fabric of his white shirt clinging to chiseled, dark skin. (Ah, the joys of marrying an active Auror and former Quidditch prodigy.) “Did someone say get naked?”

“Way ahead of everyone,” says Sirius as he steps out of the bathroom, having taken his fourth shower today, and wearing nothing but his birthday suit, face towel strung over his shoulder and toothbrush in the side of his mouth. 

“Oh Gods, Sirius!” Lily squeals as she throws a pillow at him. “Get back in there and put some clothes on!” 

“What?” he retorts quizzically, swirling around to give everyone a show—and a generous view of his abs and firm backside. And, well, the other thing, too. “It’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before.”

Last to join the party is Remus, who barely spares a second glance to the naked Sirius Orion Black. “Pack your things, I got us a room at a Muggle inn for an hour. Harry’s downstairs waiting for everyone. He says he’ll rip off the stuffed Padfoot’s head if no one accompanies him to the pool later.” 

That is all he says before swiftly exiting the room.

You stare at the spot where he had been standing previously, whispering in awe, “God bless the Remus Lupins of the world.” 

iii. too much communication.

“—and the thing is,” you say through your weepy blubbering, nose swollen and eyes stinging from crying for the last thirty minutes. “When you guys get all secret-ey and start avoiding me, it really makes me feel like shite. And. . . and then—!” you pause to hiccup, breaking down into sobs once more when Sirius gathers you into his arms, laying his love all over your skin, kissing your tears away as he coos into your ear. “And then, Gilderoy Lockhart comes and says that you all hide away in this h-house, or shack, or whatever and meet your secret girlfriend there! I know you said it was just us and you’d never, ever cheat—and I trust you all more than life itself! But I have to know why you disappear from me every month on a particular night. A-Are you tired of me or something?”

Sirius hushes you with his lips, brows contorted—as though he’s in pain because you are in pain. He cradles the back of your neck, placating your worries with whispers of devotion. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean for it to get this far. We just wanted to keep you from harm. You’re our world, our entire heart. If you’re hurt, it hurts worse for us, little love.” 

Remus kneels by your feet, grabbing your hands in his; eyes dripping with fondness and warmth. The gold flecks in his eyes glimmering like stars in the night sky. “There’s something you have to know about me, love. We should have told you this long ago—but I was afraid you would look at me differently.”

You end up in another crying fit, overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity. “I’ve seen you when you had food poisoning, Remus Lupin, I was the one who cleaned your vomit on the floors—nothing on this earth can make me look at you differently.”

Remus chokes, before gathering his bearings, hiding wet chuckles in your lap. “I’m a werewolf, my darling. That’s why we avoid you during full moons. To keep you safe. Your safety is always going to be one of my highest priorities. I’d die before I would let Moony harm a pretty hair on your head.” 

“Is that it?” you croak, whimpers subsiding as relief floods through your veins. “Truly?”

Remus nods. “Truly.”

“Oh, our poor love,” Lily murmurs, delicately running her hand through your hair, a worried knit in her brows. “I’m sorry we let it get to this point. Look at you—you’ll cry yourself sick.” She procures a daintily-embroidered handkerchief from her skirt pockets, gently dabbing at your damp eyes, eyes creased with love. “I’m sorry,” she says once more, pressing her lips to yours until all you feel is her instead of hurt. “No more secrets, I promise.”

James scratches the back of his head with a crooked grin. “Well. . . there is one more. Remember that time you saw a stag in the corridors? That was me. And, the dog trying to get a look under your skirt was Sirius.”

You blink. “What?”

iv. child hero has very involved parents.

Harry James Potter is known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the beloved Chosen One of the wizarding society, if you will. He has a destiny to follow and all that—well, if he could actually do anything heroic.

“What do you mean there’s a basilisk in the castle!” you shriek, a poor vase in Dumbledore’s office shattering to a million pieces. Harry drags a hand down his face—this is going to be a very long night. Suddenly, he regrets writing a letter to home about the happenings in the castle. (How was he supposed to know that all five of his parents would march into Dumbledore’s quarters the moment they heard about the blood on the walls and the petrified students?) “Why haven’t you shut down the school yet? Are you waiting for more students to get hurt?” you press on heatedly, James and Sirius flanking your sides like protective bodyguards. 

“Have you taken any protective measures?” Lily asks worriedly, holding onto Remus’s hand that’s resting on her shoulder. (Honestly, Harry thinks, rolling his eyes inwardly. The lot of you are worse than Molly Weasley at this point.) She turns to Harry, “What about Hermione? Is she safe? Oh, her parents must be worried.”

“You know what,” you say standing up, pivoting on your heel as your flock of lovers follow in suit. “We’re leaving, Harry dear, let’s go.” 

“Go?” the twelve-year-old echoes dumbfoundedly. “Go, where?”

“Home,” you reply with no room for arguments. “Until the matter is resolved, you are staying home. And tell Hermione she’s welcome to stay with us, too. And, Ginny. Ronald, as well. Actually, darling, why don’t you just tell all your friends the Potter manor is open to them whenever.”

Harry thinks you’ve just decided that on a whim, but he knows that Lily and his fathers will go along with whatever you want, regardless.

Your gaze slices to Dumbledore with a low hiss, venomous enough to rival a Slytherin’s taunt. “Fix this or I shall hunt down that basilisk myself.” 

Harry’s shoulders slump. 

So much for fulfilling prophecies and defeating dark lords.

a/n: drabbles are so fun!! this was so fun to write (but not trying to set up another blog.. NEVER AGAIN, I AM STAYING HERE!) i might do some more drabbles since my brain is fried after my last few fics which were long as heck.