#dear god i pity this social media generation

[bluespring864]

rafole and fedal posting selfies that get over one million likes novandy could never 😃

Nah, Novandy is for people with real taste, not for the masses ;-)

[officialthiamlibrary]

Hey! Do you know of any where one or both of them play a professional sport?

So sorry for the delay, but we are ready with our finds! These are what we could find, but if we are missing any then please let us know and we will add them to our list! 

All the Quads Are My Friends by never_love_a_wild_thing (Teen | Complete | 10K)

Tags: AU - Ice Skating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Idiots in love, Social Media

Summary: Liam and Theo go to Figure Skating Worlds in Milan, ready to prove themselves to the skating world and end up falling in love along the way.

A Peek Inside: “Theo!” Liam shouted, “You can’t just post pictures of me when I’m sleeping!”

“Aw, but you were so cute, though!” Theo smirked at him. Liam decidedly did not blush. “I don’t think you can even see the drool in that picture.”

Liam gaped at him, trying to figure out how to express his unbridled fury without actually killing anyone. “I do. Not. Drool.” He gritted out.

Breaking The Ice by Bookwyrm (Teen | Complete | 8.8K)

Tags: AU Hockey, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Coming Out

Summary: Theo and Liam used to play for rival hockey teams. Things got explosive everytime they shared the ice, but now they've both been traded to the Beacon Hills Wolves.

A Peek Inside: Theo sat on the ice, and gently pulled out the tissues. When no blood flowed he asked, "What the hell is your problem? Are you just the human version of an overly aggressive chihuahua or is it personal?"

Liam gritted his teeth. "My problem is you are the worst kind of hockey player. You don't care about the rules of the game or who gets hurt, unless of course you hurt them on purpose."

Rings Of Fire by LI0NH34RT (Teen | Complete | 3.1K)

Tags: Figure Skating AU, Ice Skating AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Summary: Figure Skater Liam dreamed of being at the Olympics his whole life but when his partner Hayden breaks her ankle at a practice jump too risky, his dream seems over and done. 

Theo is a single skater because his attitude makes him incompatible with a partner but that doesn't stop their coach to pair them off in training – Will the flame of their hate burn them out or light up a different fire?

A Peek Inside: “I absolutely do remember that day. Actually that... unfortunate incident made me aware of the sparks the dynamic between you two has.”

“Sparks? More like fire hazard...”, Theo mumbles to himself.

It is true. Every time Liam Dunbar and Theo are in the same room, they fight. It's lucky they didn't share any ice time yet and that has mostly been due to the fact that single skater and pair skaters trained separately on a team as big as team USA.

Going For Gold by AJP_37 (Explicit | WIP | 15K)

Tags: AU Olympics, AU Swimming

Summary: Scott had just up and quit from the Olympic Swim team. 

And someway, somehow Coach thought it was acceptable to bring in Theo to take his place. 

Liam was not impressed. 

Until he was.

A Peek Inside: “But I want Scott back, I don’t want to swim with this guy.”

“Theo. His name is Theo.” Coach rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Liam when you give him the chance I’m sure he is going to be right up your alley.”

“Coach, he’s been in like three different scandals since the qualifiers.” Liam huffed, slumping down into the chair. “There was a reason why the selectors left him in college. He’s not ready for the big stage.” 

“And funnily enough that is what every single member of the team and coaching staff said about you.” Coach snapped back, leaning forward on his chair.

finding love on the offroad tracks by xTarmanderx (General | WIP | 10K)

Tags: Slow burn, Motocrossed au

Summary: When Theo Raeken is injured before a major motocross competition, his twin Tara decides to step up to the plate. While their father is overseas looking for a new rider to take over for the event, Tara begs their mother to keep it from him and let her try and race in Theo’s place. Disguising herself as Theo, she takes up the racing circuit to keep the family name attached to the event. Enter Liam Dunbar, a professional biker from a different circuit that immediately can tell Tara isn’t who she claims to be. Theo pleads with Liam to keep their secret and he agrees: on one condition.

A Peek Inside: Despite the recently added dips and new curve to the track, Theo took each challenge effortlessly and sped past his father for a second lap. This time, he risked a glance at the man and saw him shake his head, scribbling frantically down onto his clipboard. His teeth ground together and he hit the curve hard, losing momentum as he sought to right his bike. His grip grew tight, lips pinched as he committed his focus back to the track. His father may be hard on him, but he was nowhere near as unforgiving as the dirt.

Melting the Ice by ExtraSteps (Mature | Complete | 29K)

Tags: Hockey au, Scott is a prick

Summary: Liam's entire world is shaken up when Scott McCall, the captain of the Los Angeles Rams and Liam's mentor at the club, unexpectedly asks to be traded to the Dallas Stars. As Liam struggles to deal with this in both his personal and professional life, his teammate and friend, Theo Raeken, is there to help him in any way he can.

A Peek Inside: He already feels a bit better. As much as they’ve had their differences in the past, he knows that Theo would bleed for him, has in fact done so on multiple occasions, putting himself on the line to protect Liam. If anyone can make Liam feel anchored, its him.

Don’t Forget To Breathe by snaeken (Explicit | Complete | 28K)

Tags: Ice hockey, disabled character, depression, anxiety, mental health discussions, smut

Summary: Formerly a professional ice hockey player in the NHL, Theo suffered a career-ending injury on the ice which resulted in the loss of everything he held dear to him. No longer able to cope with his teammates pity, and the speculation from the media and the general public on how bad his injury really is, Theo runs away. He goes back to the hometown he left behind when he turned pro, hoping to find solace in a place which has previously caused him so much pain. After a chance encounter in a graveyard of all places, Beacon Hills local Liam Dunbar slots himself into Theo’s life, wanting to aid him in both his physical and mental recovery. Theo quickly discovers he’s not the only one who has demons, and when feelings become involved… well that’s just inevitable, isn’t it?

A Peek Inside: Even at this time of night, his phone is still blowing up on his night stand. Colleagues and fans and hecklers and press and god knows who else. He can’t bring himself to unlock it and turn off the notifications. Hopefully the battery will run dry soon. Even when he’s tried not to, he’s still seen snippets of the questions he’s getting.

[lady-olive-oil]

Dog Days Chapter 2

Note: Hey y’all!!! It has been a long as while since i have updated and for that i apologize. Life has taken over and is hectic af right now. But it is here finally, the next installment of Dog Days! Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

Warning: dirty “I miss you public sex>” If ya squint

Word count: 2,467

Taglist: @maddiestundentwritergaines​ || @dc41896​ || @honeychicana​ || @themyscxiras​ || @dc41896​ || @crushed-pink-petals​ || @fumbling-fanfics​ || @champagnesugamama​ || @bugngiz​ || @badassbaker​ || @melinda-january​

_____________

Charity events were always a buzz around town. Whether you’re a socialite: a social media influencer, stylist, designer, you name it. Anybody who is anybody, knew about them. This one in particular was one for the ages.The annual Charity Ball of Hope, was more of a gala of sorts but nevertheless one for a good cause. Upon seeing all the glitz and glamour of the posh and pampered, outside of the limo window, It felt like old times all over again.

My dress was anything but simple, yet tasteful floor length royal blue mermaid halter top dress with a gold beading around the chest. My hair was in tight curls all over my head, my make up was kept light and my little rose gold studs pulled the look together. The not so subtle keyhole drew the attention I wanted and even brought in some donations for the organization I was in charge of for the night. 

The Los Angeles Angels foundation, for single hard working moms was an organization I started after Vinny died. He left Javi and I something even though he was a terrible person. Looking over at the crowd below me from the balcony, I felt like I owned the place. Which is how I felt at every event regardless.

“Bring back any memories?” A soft yet gentle voice awoken my senses back to reality. I saw Henry approach with a couple flutes of wine and handed one towards me. Graciously accepting the bubbly, we clink our glasses and look back over the crowd.

“I’d say so.” Looking at him from the side, I smirked. “I’ll say Mr. Kent, you clean up nicely if I do say so myself. What are the odds of us matching?”

“Well Miss Calhoun, I’d say 1 in 100. Not too many people can pull off royal blue.” His infamous subtle smile would bring anyone to their knees but for me, I'm used to it so I just smile back and think about how corny we both are to be calling each other by character names.

Fiddling with the rim of my glass, leaning firearms against the railing, I sighed in deep thought. “I still haven’t heard anything back yet about my audition. I hope I get it honestly, it would be a dream of mine to bring a character such as Nubia, to life. Especially for my baby sister Davina, she looks up to me and Morgan a lot. I want this for not just me, but for my sisters.” 

Henry had pulled me closer to his side, making it hard for me to not look at him. His soothing blue eyes, with a hint of brown in one of them, made me forget what I was wallowing in pity about.

“You will get this role and be an inspiration to all young women like you, my love. I know that for a fact, you were amazing at your audition. Who else can actually sneer at me while smirking at the same time, while giving a great performance?”

“Oh Henry, you’re just saying that because I’m your friend.” Offering a soft glance at him was short lived, being that he lifted my head up by my chin to look me in the eye.

“I’m not just saying it to say it, Miyah. You’re phenomenal at everything that you do and I wish you’d see that, just as I do.”

His words were true, solid to the core and faithful. Like a quiet day after the rain. No other man had made me feel as loved as he did, and he made sure I knew that. With a gentle nod, I gave in and smiled sweetly.

Placing the empty flute on the serving tray, I sighed happily. “Why don’t we make our rounds and greet people? I’m sure your people are expecting you just as much as my own.”

Taking my hand gently we made our way down the curved staircase, greeting our fellow friends and members we haven’t seen in years. We’ve managed to keep in contact with our mutual friends, mainly for logistics reasons. Nonetheless it’s been a pleasant few years, mainly because they told us what the other was up to. Made us both feel closer in a sense before reconnecting.

I was receiving compliments on my dress that made me feel like a goddess. All I was missing was a sword in the back of my dress, like how Diana had hers in the Wonder Woman movie. Yet with all the pleasantries out there way, awards being given to the charities, I felt an uneasy presence.

Looking around the room, to see if I could spot the person who I could feel in the room. Henry went off to talk to his friends, so that I could venture off and try to schmooze more people. Which was a big mistake in itself, yet strangely enough the feeling wasn’t so frightening. It was warm and inviting. 

“My, my. You have outdone yourself Amiyah, long time no see.” The soft crooning voice of a seasoned Italian brought back memories. 

“I do try, Marco. I have learned from the very best haven’t I?” Embracing him in a tight hug, I tried to suppress my emotions but it was to no avail. The water works were flooding back.

Marco was like my guardian angel, when Javier and I were living with Vinny. He has been there for her through the whole situation, considering he was his nephew. He knew of Vinny’s motives and habits when he was with me. I practically made him the godfather, which didn’t sit well with Vinny at the time, but he never got a say in how I raised my son because of how he treated me. I haven’t seen Marco in years since Javi and I moved away for good. He is family, and this reunion made all the difference in the end.

“You are glowing my dear, gorgeous. Simply gorgeous as always. How are you and Javier?” Placing a gentle kiss upon my head he chuckled in a joyful tone. 

“Thank you Marco, I appreciate it. Time has been good to us lately, since you know.” My voice was caught in my throat a little but I remained content.

“All good things have happened, good to hear. Listen, I'd hate to cut this conversation short my dear, but a few of my colleagues would like to speak with you at some point in time. Whenever is convenient for you, perhaps?”

I knew exactly where this was going. Well partially anyway, but the statement sounded familiar in itself. I always kept my guard up regardless of the situation. Then it clicked, I realized at this moment I would be offered a new opportunity.

I arched a brow in curiosity. “Depends on the colleagues.” 

“You remember them, Lorenzo and Matteo. They are all for the main decision at hand.”  A gentle smirk was etched on his face.

I knew where this was going. “Well I am free in a few weeks. Have them meet me at Wanda’s on 5th street at noon, on that Wednesday.”

He texted the info to the boys just so they’ll know. “Done and done. We shall see you soon, Lady Amiyah. It was great seeing you again.”

Giving him one last hug, I sighed happily. “You too Marco. Don’t be a stranger now, Javier remembers you vaguely. Stop by the house, I’ll send you the address seeing as though I still have your number.”

“Good to hear, Bella. See you soon and say hi to Henry for me.” Watching him leave with a pep in his step, brought back old memories. 

“Will do.” With that I felt at ease and I had to find my saving grace. Like clockwork, Henry found me. 

“Everything alright Miyah? Who was that guy you were talking to?”

As I arched my brow again, I could tell that my gentle giant was getting rather jealous. “Henry, are you jealous?”

He feigned a gasp of shock, scrunching up his nose. “Me? Jealous? Never, whatever gave you that idea?”

“Your nose flared before you scrunched it. If you must know, Marco is Javier’s godfather and a very generous donor too.”

“Really? Marco Ricci, as in Vinny Giovanni?” His eyes went wide as he said the names in a hushed tone.

“Yes, the very same. I’m meeting up with him, Lorenzo and Matteo for some meeting in a couple weeks. They wanted to discuss something with me.”

“Why do they want to meet with the Queen ?” Adjusting his tie, I averted his attention towards me to have him look me in the eye. I could tell the power shifted in my favor, with the way he spoke.

“Something about a business proposition, from what I’ve gathered. Everyone wants to meet with the queen, but only a few will do so.” Placing a gentle kiss along his jaw, I saw him visibly shiver in anticipation. 

A smirk gradually appeared on my face, as I saw his expression. An idea had appeared in my head once I laced our fingers together and dragged him towards a less crowded area. What a bold move I made to not wear any panties under this dress.

“You seem a little hot and bothered my love. Is everything alright?”

“Not when you’re sweet lips tease me my dear. I can barely concentrate, let alone form a complete sentence. You’re more persuasive than you give yourself credit for.” His breath hitched in his throat as I guided him into the bathroom, locking the door behind us and shoved him against the wall.

Thank god for 6 inch heels because there would be no way, I’d be the same height as Henry. He makes me feel like I can be and do anything, and right now I felt invincible.

“How persuasive am I, Cavill?” I whispered against his ear, pressing a gentle kiss on it then felt his strong hands grip my hips. Next thing I know, he lifts me on top of the counter and kisses my neck with such passion that I couldn’t even muster.

“Extremely. To the point where you have me wanting to do unthinkable things to you right here, right now.” He whispers in my ear, locking my ankles behind him as my fingers carded through his hair.

“Do it Cavill. I want you to, I need you to.” My voice shook with desire and need, I couldn’t take it anymore. I practically ripped his shirt open, he unzipped my dress slowly in a teasing manner.

The way his lips were on mine was like a drug, a need to be filled and replenished. Thankful for me being on the pill because when he sheathed himself inside of me, I felt my whole body freeze as my warm heat gripped him tight. He noticed it because he bit into my neck causing the sensation to heighten.

“Oh Henry..” the want in my voice only stirred him even more into a frenzy as he sped up his movements, causing the back of my head to hit the wall. 

“That’s it princess, louder. so everyone knows who you belong to.” His heated lips were whispering sweet nothings in an attempt to console me, but the gears shifted once I placed my lips on his neck

The gentle small gasp that escaped him as my lips glided down the side of his neck before resting at the curve. Your other hand slid lovingly under his button up shirt, and up his side before resting my palm against his exposed chest. A small, shriveled moan escaped his slightly parted lips as his hands gripped the fabric of my dress, that pooled at my hips . I teased my lips against his sensitive skin before obliging him with fervent kisses to the side of his neck. He panted in full ecstasy, broken moans encoring your efforts as I grew more aggressive. We knew there were probably people listening to how loud we were, yet we didn’t care at all.

Pulling his hair to get a better look at his flustered face, I felt a smirk dance across my face. To up the ante, I leaned my hips back and squeezed my kegel muscles as tight as I could around him. The noises he made caused me to let out a few noises myself in pure ecstasy. Dragging my nails down his toned chest caused him to drill into me faster and harder, the grip I had on his hair stayed. Remaining in constant eye contact.

“I know you’re very close to cumming, my love. I can feel you throbbing inside of me. Let go, I want you to come inside of me.” My lips danced against his ear. 

The floodgates came rushing through is both, releasing a symphonic moan, clutching each other like a leech. Having him slide out made me feel empty, like I was missing something desperately to fill the void. We helped each get cleaned up and redressed, before making an appearance out to the public. Fluffing out my curls, I saw him fix his hair as well.

“Next time, we should try cock warming because I need you in me at all times.” Licking his bottom lip, I made him shiver again, then I walked away from him to unlock the door.

“You’re gonna be the death of me woman.” He gave my ass a good smack and proceeded to walk ahead of me.

“Just call me kryptonite.” Sending a wink in his general direction, we agreed to meet back at the fountain after the event was over. Some folks definitely heard us because the looks I got were full of jealousy. Which I didn’t care one bit, he’s my man and I do what I want.

Just to end the night off with a bang, my charity received the biggest donation of the night. It only goes up from here for everyone in my circle, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.My good mood shifted once I saw a few strands of blonde hair waving in the distance next to Henry. His boisterous laugh caught my attention more, that is until I saw the face of the blonde in question. Sabrina Daniels, Henry’s old fling from our time apart. One glance at me and she smirked with an evil gleam in her eye, simultaneously touching his arm to spite me. 

We may not have publicly announced us being together publicly but, people know we have been spending time together. As god as my witness, if this girl does not stay in her place I will for sure kill her myself without hesitation. Come to think of it, I may have people to do my dirty work now. 

[louisetakesphotos]

Well dear Tumblr community, it’s time to fill you in on quite the misadventure.�� Let me tell you a tale. A tale of woe, a tale of heartbreak, a tale of schlemeils and schlimazels. Of a thing known as the Blitz (a string of constant bad luck).The tale begins in Bangkok, with hardly enough sleep my human, known affectionately as Chaim, and I were ready to jump on a bus to Cambodia. With only 2 minutes to spare he decided to get money out at the ATM, alas the ATM had a different idea and his card was swallowed up into the black abyss of another countries banking system, never to be seen again. Because the universe was trying to make it fairly obvious it was playing a joke on us, that was the moment the skies opened and the first rain in several months poured forth. The bus pulled up and knowing my visa was expiring the next day we decided to get on it. Even as my stomach muscles clenched, I kept assuring him, 'I've got you man, I've got you.' 600m up the road we realised the error of our ways and we jumped off the bus, knowing we needed to cancel his card before we spent 12 hours making our way to a new country. Out we jumped into the downpour. This wasn't just an ordinary downpour, this was a downpour in Khoa San Road, the scummiest, filthiest place in all of Thailand. Water was flooding down the street, it was up to our knees and our shoes kept falling off, so eventually we said ‘to hell with it all’ took them off and walked barefoot through the minefield of unknown substances stuck to the ground. As I took my first step on the slippery sidewalk I saw a rat scuttle past, followed by an army of centipedes and cockroaches. With all my worldly possessions getting soaked on my back we finally made it back to our guesthouse. I turned to Chaim and assured him yet again ‘it’s ok, I have a card. I’ve got you till you can order another one.’So away we went the next day, with blue skies the universe shined it’s agreement down on us ‘Yes Louise and Chaim, you made the right decision, this was a small upset in an otherwise beautiful adventure to a new country. Everything will be fine. Fine I say!' The universe desperately assured us, trying and succeeding to lull us into a false sense of security. We arrived at the border to discover what a filthy liar our fair universe was and realised we were currently halfway through a scam. Pay them to organise a Cambodian visa, or get left behind and have to organise our own way to Siem Reap. We'd forgotten what it was like in developing world countries, so we begrudgingly agreed to just pay the extra money and be done with it.'We'll be in Cambodia soon, then our luck will turn, won't it?' We asked each other hopefully. ALAS, it was not to be. Alas the universe, the simulation, the author of whatever strange novel we're apparently characters in decided that no, the plot would be better if our luck stayed down, and so I walked over to a nearby ATM machine to get money out. Telling Chaim over and over, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. We’re going to have a great time, god I can’t wait to get into Cambodia. Our cambodian 'friend' who was organising our visas, who’d assured us he had our best interests at heart came up and agreed and agreed, oh yes thats a good amount to get out, oh yes you should exchange your money here, oh yes cambodia is good, oh yes oh yes. And suddenly a beeping sound interrupted this hectic tirade of useless information and I realised I did not in fact have Chaims back because my ATM card had just been swallowed. NOOOOOOOO. It was the last day of my visa, what do we do, what do we do. We're at the border, where do we go? How do we deal with this? Oh, for the first time in my life I was semi organised before I left the country, and I have a second card. It’s ok, it’s ok. It’s all going to be ok. It has $0 on it, but it's all going to work out for the best.We cross the border, we wait in this shed over here. We walk through this line over there. We double back, we walk in circles, screeching hawkers, pounding heat, the knowledge that the last two times, in the last two days we’ve used ATM’s our cards have been swallowed. Having been assured that ATMs in Cambodia are even less reliable my stomach knotted up, and I thought of all the things I’ll do if I’m stuck in a crazy country with no access to money. We made it back to the bus, knowing we’d been scammed, knowing we were down to my travel card which had $0 on it, feeling the knots tightening in my stomach. But we had our bags, we had our passports and our cambodian visas. We had our sanity and everything was going to be alright. We laughed at ourselves ‘well we needed a good reminder, Cambodia is different, we’re well and truly back in the developing world and they don’t have the same rules, our bad luck will turn around.’ We reached the point in the story where it seems as if the main characters life is back on track, that everything is ok, but anyone reading the book or watching the movie knows that this is the false promise before the bleakest point in the heroes story. And so away we went, gallivanting through temples, through back streets, playing with children, spying on monks, eating street food, riding our bicycles in the street. Taking the best photos of my trip so far and getting more and more excited about the next month of photography ahead, thinking of the stories I would write with them to try and send to magazines, thinking 'ah yes this is the life for me. Oh how happy photography makes me.' And as it always does in the best stories, everything came crashing down around us. One sleepy Saturday night, after a hearty dinner, after a day looking at all the photos we'd taken through the temples of Angkor wat, getting excited to go back the next day, everything changed. My social media addiction led me to look for my phone but it wasn't where I left it. I searched through my belongings but something was different. I looked at my camera bag and something didn't quite add up. Where my beloved baby Mandy the Mark iii had been, alongside 3 expensive professional lenses, was a large gaping hole. The hole seemed to expand in front of me, it was no longer the bright blue of the inside of my bag, but had turned black, it was a black hole and it was expanding, sucking everything in with it. Every good memory, every future photograph, the entire month of travel in front of me. I stared, still unable to comprehend I had just been robbed. That $8000 worth of camera equipment, along with my new mobile phone was no longer mine, but instead in the hands of some backstabbing thief at the guesthouse I was staying in. "Hey wait a minute, my camera's gone too?" Chaim said. Without a doubt we knew it was the hotel staff, or someone working with them, the door was locked, the windows barred, and we'd only been gone for 20 minutes. The invasion of privacy, the loss of my livelihood, the knowledge that the trust i'd had was gone and all the niceties of the homely place we'd decided to make our abode for the past week crumbled into a vile mess around us.What happened next could be the plot of an entire movie, yet I'll try and sum it up in a short paragraph. Three entire days in a sweltering, post colonial police station, arguing with shirtless police officers with the reek of last nights alcohol on them, all for the sake of a simple piece of paper, a copy of the police report, so I could try and leave this shemozzle behind me and get my gear back.We were intimidated, accused of lying and attempting insurance fraud, and asked to completely change our story because they had no intention of investigating a hotel in a place who's only income is tourism. Constantly being asked "What do you want the police to do about it?" It took yelling, sweet talking, persistence, a refusal to leave and becoming a massive pain in their side and finally the insinuation of a possible 'kindness' (also known as a bribe) I had the piece of paper in my hand. The knots that had been tightening in my stomach finally relaxed and a laugh burst out as we walked out of station, and were free to leave Cambodia and try and get my belongings back. After telling you of the horrific luck we dealt with, I have to finish with a note about Cambodia. I still love that beautiful, wonderful country, and ironically, although I dealt with some aggravating officers and thieves, the people in general are some of the loveliest people I've met on my travels.After losing my most important possessions and feeling like the world around me had come crashing down and everything was bitter and horrible, the thing that pulled me rather quickly from my self pity party, was looking around at the country I was lucky enough to be in, at the poverty that led to a city with a higher theft rate, and a country where police need bribes because they don't earn a high enough wage to support their families. A country that is still reeling from genocide, from severe mistreatment, and whose magic comes from the under-developed nature of the place. A country I'll most definitely be returning to, with a new camera.

[gospelmusic]

Catholic Daily Reading + Reflection: 1 December 2020 - A Shoot From The Stump Of Jesse: The Spirit Of The Lord Shall Rest Upon Him

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Readings at Mass for 1,December 2020

Tuesday December 1, 2020 First Week of Advent Year B Vestment: Violet Today’s Rosary: The Sorrowful Mystery

Entrance Antiphon cf.Zec14:5.7

Behold, the Lord will come, and all his holy ones with him; and on that day there will be a great light.

Collect

Look with favour, Lord God, on our petitions, and in our trials grant us your compassionate help, that, consoled by the presence of your Son, whose coming we now await, we may be tainted no longer by the corruption of former ways. Through our Lord. . (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

FIRST READING

“The Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him.” A reading from the Book of Isaiah (Isaiah11:1-10) On that day: There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. And his delight shall be in the fear of the LORD. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; and he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked. Righteousness shall be the belt of his waist, and faithfulness the belt of his loins. The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall feed; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The sucking child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder’s den. They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. In that day the root of Jesse shall stand as an ensign to the peoples; him shall the nations seek, and his dwellings shall be glorious. The word of the Lord.

RESPONSORIAL PSALM Psalm72:1-2.7-8.12-13-17 (R.7)

R/. In his days shall justice flourish, and great peace forever. O God, give your judgement to the king, to a king’s son your justice, that he may judge your people in justice, and your poor in right judgement. R. In his days shall justice flourish, And great peace till the moon is no more. He shall rule from sea to sea, From the River to the bounds of the earth. R. For he shall save the needy when they cry, the poor, and those who are helpless. He will have pity on the weak and the needy, and save the lives of the needy. R. May his name endure forever, his name continue like the sun. Every tribe shall be blest in him, All nations shall call him blessed. R.

ALLELUIA

Alleluia. Alleluia. Behold, our Lord will come with power, and enlighten the eyes of his servants. Alleluia. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

GOSPEL

“Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit.” A reading from the holy Gospel according to Luke (Luke 10:21-24) At that hour: Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, ‘I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been delivered to me by my Father; and no one knows who the Son is except the Father, or who the Father is except the Son and any one to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” Then turning to the disciples he said privately, “Blessed are the eyes which see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it.” The Gospel of the Lord.

Today's Reflection

As we begin this new month, the prophet Isaiah has an encouraging message for us, “There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots” (Isa 11:1). A stump is the last part of the tree that is left on the ground when the main tree has been cut down. Normally, it is expected that it should die off but a shoot rather grows from it. Can you see? From any seemingly hopeless situation you may find yourself, God is going to lift you up and make you stand out as a sign of his glory to the nations (cf Isa 11:10). Only try and dispose yourself for that by upholding justice in your little way and living in peace with others, and it shall be well with you.

Blessings for the new Month

We say ‘Thank You’ to God for bringing us to December, the last month of the year. It shall be a month of triumphant glory for us. May God be praised for all he has done for us and may we continue to see goodness and mercy in the land of the living. Open your mouth, praise the Lord and exalt him forever. May his praise be always on your lips and may greater good and blessings come upon you in abundance as we wrap up the year 2020. May no harm come upon you, your household, your work and business and may your journey and movement in this month be safe, fruitful and blessed. Amen. Have a fantastic new month of December. May Jesus open doors of blessings for you and your household and may his word be fulfilled upon your life. Amen.

Let Us Pray,

Lord, grant that in this liturgical year we may stay awake always in order to avoid evil and let your light lead us on our pilgrimage to heaven. Amen

Personal Devotional

He will always make you rich enough to be generous at all times, so that many will thank God for your gifts which they receive from us. For the service you perform not only meets the needs of God's people, but also produces an outpouring of gratitude to God. 2 Corinthians 11,12 - Dear Lord, thank you for the gift of this new day and new month. I adore you because of your goodness. Lord help me to fight to be at the top, but to allow the fullness of the operation of the Holy Spirit in my life. - O Lord, let me count greatness only by your standards and qualifications, and not by my own merits and achievements. - Holy Spirit of the living God, remain always with me. - Everything that has made the Holy Spirit to be away from me, depart now in the name of Jesus. Holy Spirit make me your dwelling place.

Let Us Pray

Lord Jesus, fill me with your healing power. Let the warmth of your healing love flood my entire being, so that my body will function the way it was created to be, whole and complete, renewed in your perfect health. I ask this through my Lord, Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen

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[a-writing-bear]

[PruCan] Chapter 4: Soft-Spoken Calling, They Want Their Shyness Back

Ao3 Link:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11159997/chapters/24905436

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on Tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’

Previous Chapter

Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Main Pairing: Gilbert Beilschmidt & Matthew Williams (Prussia & Canada)

AU:  College AU - Art Student Matthew and Media/Film Student Gilbert

Age Rating/Mature:  Teen And Up Audiences (12+ due to mentions of mature themes as well as swearing)

Trigger Warnings: Recreational Drugs & minor connotations of anxiety (Future addiction to mention themes such as addiction, rape etc.)

Within his short 18 years of his life, Gilbert knew he fell short of a lot of things. Most of the time the list of his personal struggles were propelled far away from the contemptuous moments of strife that he was forced to worry about currently so in turn of all that he wasn’t used to being open to his subconscious pacing mind. All the repressed trouble he cooked up was bubbling over- much like Arthur’s attempt of ‘soup’ from last week. Whenever he seemed to not be distracted by a family issue presented by his brother, it was coursework that acted as blockade from having a social life, or sometimes the extremities faced when dealing with pesters from Elizabeta and Roderich (Only God knows what those two would be doing on a weekend...); even the occasional whining from a certain Frenchman.

A chime of a small bell over the café’s door announced his presence to the other inhabitants. The oaky smell of old counters flooded his senses and the light yellow walls plastered with generic atmospheric photos of Himaruya Academy’s campus populated some of the emptier spaces (You could tell these were taken by students as well, what with the tiny label under each photo). Aromatic aromas of freshly brewed coffee and whiffs of alluring chai lattes made Gilbert smile warmly, it was if he had been hugged by comfort itself. You would think a café would be empty at around 10 pm, but it seems like the need for caffeine for any student was a constant. The distance between his dorm hall and the small campus café was luckily close, a breeze of a stroll that delighted any exhausted student, thus his tardiness in his arrival was actually inexcusable. He mulled over trying to produce an excuse to give later to explain his delay… Of course, his overall excitement was at an all-time low considering Gilbert would have to deal with an infuriated Ludwig-

“Seriously Gil? You’re late 20 minutes”

Speaking of the organised stick-in-the-mud devil, his younger brother (Who, unfairly, had grown taller than the paler of the two) was eyeing him with annoyance and the albino could practically feel the dagger-like stares pushing into his chest. A cockier-than-usual ‘I’m more organised than you and you know it' looks of disapproval caught him off guard… Oh god is he going to say something about the new shir-

“Mein Gott, How the hell are you funding your wardrobe when you can’t even pay me back?”

“Lovely to see you too dear West, I’m doing fine, Gee thanks! How thoughtful for you to ask.”

Sarcasm and mock pleasure rolled off his tongue easily and with a sublime sense of satisfaction. But as he went to sit down at the small table he noticed the change in mood. facing diligently and apprehensively at the stern look of his brother he realised that his obvious joke will not go without consequence…clearly, Ludwig had something serious this time and the call for the older sibling was not an act of choice but instead an act of necessity. Gilbert gulped. Fidgeting slightly, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, the blue-eyed sibling attempted to keep his voice lower than usual and to keep the conversation at a seemingly okay level of panic:

“We can’t exactly quit our jobs this holiday, and my calculations state that we might even have to pick up an extra shift. There is no way we can visit Uncle this year.”

Gilbert flinched and could swear he felt his heart break a little. To others the news may not seem to be ‘that serious’ – sure it was bad but being heartbroken was an over exaggeration right? Consider the fact you had been working your FUCKING ass off your whole life, juggling multiple jobs while studying with a crappy stream of income and pay check-to-pay check funding, being robbed of countless hours of personal time that in your eyes were a privilege, never a minimum, and last but not least the breakdowns when you realised you felt so alone. This news would make your heart shatter like fragile glass. ‘Fuck karma, Lady Luck couldn’t give him a day off,’ It seemed like dog days would never be chased off. Unbelievable. Inconceivably pissed off. Flipping the table, walking out and burying himself in the nearest graveyard felt like a reasonable move as of right now.

“What. The. FUCK.”

“Calm down we can handl-“

“I can’t!- There has to be some miscalculation, last I checked we had enough for that break, I was given time off and a pay raise! This shouldn’t- What-WHY? I PRACTICALLY DIED.”

“Look I get it- I’m not happy either?! But shouting won’t do us any help either!”

He was fuming and he could see the fury shining in his company’s eyes as well. Growing up Gilbert always hid his vents and rants and kept his true thoughts away from the impressionable mind of his sibling but at times like this, it was clear what they were both thinking. Ludwig must have known this news hit his brother harder than it would him, and those awkward compassionate pats were a pitiful attempt at family comfort. They never really used affectionate gestures in the past, there was never any time for stuff like that.

Years and years, harking as far back as the tender age of 14, he could recall working for an extra bit of pocket money. Pocket money soon evolved into a college fund for himself and West within 2 years. Not to mention the small amounts he had to save for indulging to keep the sanity that prevented him from turning into an emotionless working robot. Thankful was not a strong enough word to describe what Gilbert felt for his uncle, there wasn’t any word that could achieve the level of gratitude the boy held for the old man. Respect towards the old man was something he taught Ludwig early on (Come to think of it, they moved in with their Uncle when Ludwig was only...12?), even if the latter didn’t understand their situation at that very young age. Spaced out due to the reminiscing he hadn’t noticed the warm cup of coffee that had been kindly delivered to him (Yes, a nice cup of coffee at 10 pm, go college life!), Ludwig’s strong voice started to come back to the forefront of his attention;

“You take your rest, you deserved the break, Bruder. I can do an extra shift- Feli says his shift has an extra slot anyway that I can take and it’s not very long, we just need to rearrange the bank allocations…” The blonder German was droning on and was in actual fact, talking to himself more than he was meaning to actually converse with the other.

Sighing into his now slightly cold coffee, the teen pondered over his choices and reviewed his recent schedules: wake up, eat, Attend lectures, go to multiple work shifts throughout the day during his study hours, do some coursework till the morning light and pass out, repeat. He had started slacking this continues the cycle of college-life torture. He had finally worked enough to wager a good break that his boss from his large shift (A shitty – but hey it’s decent? – 7 bucks an hour) at the local cinema, an undesirable night shift that no one wanted to partake when they could be partying. Only this month had he been throwing away his frazzled mind with hook-ups and well-deserved parties with his former Misfits.  He had ached for those nights again, and for a short while, he had them back. What was the point of being a ‘creative’ mind when you can’t produce any of the garbage you actually want to?! Being stuck in the mantra of: “How many tickets sir? Which seat..? Hope you enjoy the show!” was the cause of the internal bomb of irritation that ticked faster and faster and Gilbert wasn’t even sure he would have any fuse left soon.

I’ve got to go. Was it ever possible to become unattached to reality? God I wish, with haste Gilbert suddenly got up and bolted out with mutters of incomprehensible frustration.

“Gilbe-Where are you goi-Hey we aren’t” the protests over his disappearance faded into the background as Gilbert left to walk back to his room. He could really do with some music.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE LIVES NEXT DOOR?! HAS HE HURT YOU? OH MY GOD”

Matthew lamented over his wasted time, the paint covered boy had nestled down on his bed with his ruffled hair and head thrown back onto the cushy red covers, He could be actually painting right now…or y’know…seeing Tim for a drug hit. Eyes shut with another exhale of boredom as Alfred rambled on, shooting an overdose of “He’s the bad kind, he’s not good, and he could be a murderer” lecture into the strawberry blonde’s tired ears. You would think a prodigy with a near IQ of 160 would be able to identify a real threat.

Sometimes he really just wanted to forget about this.

“I don’t think we are even thinking of the same person Al” blurting out quietly, still trying to zone out from his brother’s incessant fussing. “Have you even met him?”

“I don’t neeeed to meet him. I KNOW he’s bad for you, I don’t want him touching and getting all up in my little brother’s space and…poisoning him with all the college nonsense.”

Bullshit, poison what? I already drink and take- Ahh that’s right he doesn’t know about the ‘college nonsense’ I actually do participate in. Woops.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, hell you’re starting to sound old like Artie”

“I am not-I am NOT like Artie! Why the sudden interest in this Gilbert GUY ANYWAY??” This had dragged on for an hour and Matthew needed to make a dash for Tim’s house if he wanted to get done in time to come back reasonably sober.

“Don’t you have some project to do Alfie? It’s getting late and I want to do some work-Besides wouldn’t you want to call Kiku~” 1 point to Matthew, He had gotten his brother to look off in revelation and gain some red tinge on the cheeks. Kiku, a Japanese student who his American sibling had met and been pining for, was located at Himaruya Academy’s Tokyo campus (Mostly shortlisted to ‘The Deen Campus’ after its association). The two had been introduced during their foundation year and it was clear his sibling had a very big soft spot for the guy, so much so after the Japanese student transferred back to Japan they kept in touch with long Skype calls and endless texts. They, to quote: “Are n-not dating!! Kiku’s Not even interested…in guys…..or me.”

Hurriedly and trying to look less embarrassed, Alfred scuttled out. ‘Finally’. A glance at his watch told Matthew he would need to leave now or else Tim will call him out for bailing- ‘I am not gonna lose this cus of Al goddammit’ – Grabbing his trademark and overused hoodie, the stocky 18 year old climbed out of the way too small dorm window. Armed with his phone and car keys, he clambered into the cramped car and drove steadily down out the campus to his friend’s rented house; a typical scene for bad cliché college parties – happily it was not time for any party. As idiotic as it may seem, Strolling through the front door would not be a good idea as his childhood friend always warned him his sister would not appreciate visitors at this time (Matthew was 100% Laura didn’t even know Tim did pot, nonetheless that he did pot WITH Mattie), so he took the safer route (‘Well, physically more dangerous’) and climbed onto a small balcony on the side of the house, softly knocking on the glass that had the curtains drawn-

“You’re late.” Looking up to face his taller companion, the Canadian heard the gruff voice of annoyance as he pulled back the curtains and the sliding glass door opened.

“Sorry T, Al got me caught up in some bullshit, the hoser kept me busy…” The scarfed house owner moved aside and silently invited him into the messy room. On closer inspection, messy would not be applicable – while the floor was covered in some clothes, questionable (?) magazines and beanbags, the dark blue walls hoisted clean neat shelves which held a multitude of knickknacks.

“..You know you could’ve gotten started without me?

“Hah. Yeah right, where’s the fun in that Mattie?” A small tired-sounding chuckle flowed from the taller of the two, a bong had been passed towards Matthew who had founded himself cosy in a familiar beanbag. The haze felt good already. Matthew took it eagerly and grumbled: “How much do I owe you?”

“Honestly…Too much. Hah, No but like come on Mattie, I thought we got over this already. I’m not gonna charge a friend for this stuff. Especially not you.” Grinning with humour the Dutchman took the beanbag opposite to him.

It was all very strange at the beginning of this whole ordeal with his Dutch friend. They had grown up together and Matthew had very good relations with the ‘Van-der-Berg’ family. After joining the Academy he was glad he at least had a recognisable older pal but throughout all of the years that had gone by knowing him, he always noticed the precise and businessman-like nature of this man. Yet when he offered to help Matthew get his usual weed (Something Matt had easier access to in Canada and the times he visited the Netherlands and definitely something you don’t shout about) he didn’t charge a single penny. Hell, this fucker had once charged him after Matthew dragged them to the bathroom at camp…when they were 12 YEARS OLD. This guy always needed wanted to make a dime. Except for drugs. Which…was insanely strange AND expensive. ‘Especially not me? Ah Tim, I still really don’t know you.’  He tried not to think about it so much as when there was sweet dreamy smoke being smothered and pushed into Matthew’s body.

Sometimes it is possible to forget about things, you just need the right stuff.

[anitakudzai-blog]

Dear Marriage,

Hey there, hope this letter finds you well. So, I know a little bit about you through watching my parents all those years i lived with them. I know a little bit from what my friends have told me, I also know about you from what I have read. Quite interesting stuff about you out there if I may say so myself. I see you a lot on social media,  Instagram especially. You are very popular there, people love you and admire you like you are some form of celebrity or something. What’s that about? What makes people so crazy about you? Did you find a cure for AIDS or Cancer? Did you serve the poor like Mother Theresa? Tell me, why are people so obsessed with you?

Like I said, I know about you but you and I have yet to really get to know each other. I hear you are a lot of work and you are not a walk in the park, so why do African mothers pressure young girls to have you? Do you promise a better and more fulfilled life because as an almost 30 year old, I am honestly sick and tired of hearing about you. I know God created you for a purpose, and I believe everything God does is intentional and very strategic, but dang, you are all I ever hear about nowadays. Back in my early twenties, noone cared that I didn't have you, as a matter of fact they wanted me to have absolutely nothing to do with you but now, you are the most popular topic at any gathering I am at. You were made by God so I know there is definitely something special about you, but God made a lot of things, are you more special than them? 

Am I running out of time? Is that why they keep bringing you up in every conversation? Because I don’t have you in my life, people (African mothers specifically) look at me with eyes of pity, or worse, scorn. I am convinced that I am enough without you, that I am complete because of Christ, but the society doesn’t seem to think so. I am viewed as less than, as strange, and frankly as a menace because since I don’t have you at my age, I am definitely a threat to those women who already have you. Ridiculous right? An alien from Mars could land on earth and be seen walking down the street, a herd of pigs could be spotted flying along side the birds, a baby could come out of its mother’s private area talking like Cardi B instead of crying, okurr, and all that would still be more normal than a 30 something year old who is missing you in her life. How crazy! So if I decide today to commit to you, will you promise me a life of bliss? Will all my issues magically disappear? Will all my wishes come true? I am pretty sure the answer is NO! So then what is it about you that has captivated the hearts and minds of people all over the world? Listen, I like the idea of you don’t get me wrong, but I am not going to rush to get you in my life for I have seen what you can do to people who have failed at understanding you. You make people miserable, you make people change who they were before, you make people cry, other times you have made people even go as far as killing other people, just for you. 

Here’s the thing, I pray everyday that one day, you and I get acquainted and be in each other’s lives forever. It just has to be the at the right time. There is no need to hurry. God’s timing is the best. Too many girls have fallen prey to your idea and had absolutely no clue what they were getting themselves into. I refuse to be pushed to you at the wrong time, just to make others “happy.” What about my happiness? 1 in every 2 people who have committed to you will fail. There is already a 50% chance that I am going to fail your tests and that is why I have to be absolutely sure that I am mentally, spiritually and emotionally ready to embark on this journey with you. In the mean time please tell African mothers that God is in control and it’s ok to pursue personal goals and create a legacy that will change the narrative for generations to follow. Girls are taking over. Before, all we were good for was being born to meet you and bear children. Fortunately for us and not so much for the society, the paradigm has shifted. We are bold enough to chase after our dreams, to be engineers and scientists, to be senior pastors,  to open firms, to start businesses, to direct movies, to get PHDs, to be multimillionaires, to make our voices heard and to make a difference in the very societies that have silenced us and extinguished our fire for generations. Please pass that along to African mothers, that that is the direction in which they need to be pushing girls. I strongly believe that you too have a lot to offer, but you are certainly not the end goal. You are very special but you are not what they are making you out to be. 

Hope when the time is right, I will get to see for myself what the big deal is about. I will write you another letter then, telling you what I think of you. 

Bye for now,

Anita. 

[blackchurchpost]

With "A Letter to My Brothers," Prophetess Beth Moore Will be Remembered in Church History With the Likes of Martin Luther King Jr., Billy Graham, Anne Graham-Lotz, and Other Church Leaders

I think I can speak for many of us when I say we are neither interested in reducing or seducing our brothers. —Beth Moore

Beth Moore came out of her prayer closet one day and wrote a document akin to Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter From A Birmingham Jail.” By the grace of God, she showed the courage of Billy Graham, the eloquence of Martin Luther King Jr., and the authority and fierceness of Anne Graham-Lotz.

I long for the day—have asked for the day—when we can sit in round table discussions to consider ways we might best serve and glorify Christ as the family of God, deeply committed to the authority of the Word of God and to the imitation of Christ. —Beth Moore

One of the reasons the letter is so great is because she was extremely careful not to do the whiny, pity-party thing that unfortunately is so common in some women. No, she stood flat-footed, if you will, and delivered with authority what the church needed to hear. Beth Moore, all of the pain you have endured has brought you “to such a time as this.”

Here is the document that will be read in church history books long after Beth Moore has left her death bed.

A Letter to My Brothers

Dear Brothers in Christ,

A few years ago I told my friend, Ed Stetzer, that, whenever he hears the news that I’m on my deathbed, he’s to elbow his way through my family members to interview me about what it’s been like to be a female leader in the conservative Evangelical world. He responded, “Why can’t we do it before then?”

“Because you know good and well what will happen,” I answered. “I’ll get fried like a chicken.” After recent events following on the heels of a harrowing eighteen months, I’ve decided fried chicken doesn’t sound so bad.

I have been a professing Evangelical for decades and, at least in my sliver of that world, a conservative one. I was a cradle role Southern Baptist by denomination with an interdenominational ministry. I walked the aisle to receive Christ as my Savior at 9 years old in an SBC church and exactly nine years later walked the aisle in another SBC church to surrender to a vocational calling. Being a woman called to leadership within and simultaneously beyond those walls was complicated to say the least but I worked within the system. After all, I had no personal aspirations to preach nor was it my aim to teach men. If men showed up in my class, I did not throw them out. I taught. But my unwavering passion was to teach and to serve women.

I lack adequate words for my gratitude to God for the pastors and male staff members in my local churches for six decades who have shown me such love, support, grace, respect, opportunity and often out right favor. They alongside key leaders at LifeWay and numerous brothers elsewhere have no place in a larger picture I’m about to paint for you. They have brought me joy and kept me from derailing into cynicism and chronic discouragement amid the more challenging dynamics.

As a woman leader in the conservative Evangelical world, I learned early to show constant pronounced deference – not just proper respect which I was glad to show – to male leaders and, when placed in situations to serve alongside them, to do so apologetically. I issued disclaimers ad nauseam. I wore flats instead of heels when I knew I’d be serving alongside a man of shorter stature so I wouldn’t be taller than he. I’ve ridden elevators in hotels packed with fellow leaders who were serving at the same event and not been spoken to and, even more awkwardly, in the same vehicles where I was never acknowledged. I’ve been in team meetings where I was either ignored or made fun of, the latter of which I was expected to understand was all in good fun. I am a laugher. I can take jokes and make jokes. I know good fun when I’m having it and I also know when I’m being dismissed and ridiculed. I was the elephant in the room with a skirt on. I’ve been talked down to by male seminary students and held my tongue when I wanted to say, “Brother, I was getting up before dawn to pray and to pore over the Scriptures when you were still in your pull ups.”

Some will inevitably argue that the disrespect was not over gender but over my lack of formal education but that, too, largely goes back to issues of gender. Where was a woman in my generation and denomination to get seminary training to actually teach the Scriptures? I hoped it would be an avenue for me and applied and was accepted to Southwestern Seminary in 1988. After a short time of making the trek across Houston while my kids were in school, of reading the environment and coming to the realization of what my opportunities would and would not be, I took a different route. I turned to doctrine classes and tutors, read stacks of books and did my best to learn how to use commentaries and other Bible research tools. My road was messy but it was the only reasonable avenue open to me.

Anyone out in the public eye gets pelted with criticism. It’s to be expected, especially in our social media culture, and those who can’t stand the heat need to get out of the kitchen. What is relevant to this discussion is that, several years ago when I got publically maligned for being a false teacher by a segment of hyper-fundamentalists based on snippets taken out of context and tied together, I inquired whether or not they’d researched any of my Bible studies to reach those conclusions over my doctrine, especially the studies in recent years. The answer was no. Why? They refused to study what a woman had taught. Meanwhile no few emails circulated calling pastors to disallow their women to do my “heretical” studies. Exhausting. God was and is and will always be faithful. He is sovereign and all is grace. He can put us out there and pull us back as He pleases. Ours is to keep our heads down and seek Him earnestly and serve Him humbly

I have accepted these kinds of challenges for all of these years because they were simply part of it and because opposition and difficulties are norms for servants of Christ. I’ve accepted them because I love Jesus with my whole heart and will serve Him to the death. God has worked all the challenges for good as He promises us He will and, even amid the frustrations and turmoil, I would not trade lives with a soul on earth. Even criticism, as much as we all hate it, is used by God to bring correction, endurance and humility and to curb our deadly addictions to the approval of man.

I accepted the peculiarities accompanying female leadership in a conservative Christian world because I chose to believe that, whether or not some of the actions and attitudes seemed godly to me, they were rooted in deep convictions based on passages from 1 Timothy 2 and 1 Corinthians 14.

Then early October 2016 surfaced attitudes among some key Christian leaders that smacked of misogyny, objectification and astonishing disesteem of women and it spread like wildfire. It was just the beginning. I came face to face with one of the most demoralizing realizations of my adult life: Scripture was not the reason for the colossal disregard and disrespect of women among many of these men. It was only the excuse. Sin was the reason. Ungodliness.

This is where I cry foul and not for my own sake. Most of my life is behind me. I do so for sake of my gender, for the sake of our sisters in Christ and for the sake of other female leaders who will be faced with similar challenges. I do so for the sake of my brothers because Christlikeness is at stake and many of you are in positions to foster Christlikeness in your sons and in the men under your influence. The dignity with which Christ treated women in the Gospels is fiercely beautiful and it was not conditional upon their understanding their place.

About a year ago I had an opportunity to meet a theologian I’d long respected. I’d read virtually every book he’d written. I’d looked so forward to getting to share a meal with him and talk theology. The instant I met him, he looked me up and down, smiled approvingly and said, “You are better looking than _________________________________.” He didn’t leave it blank. He filled it in with the name of another woman Bible teacher.

These examples may seem fairly benign in light of recent scandals of sexual abuse and assault coming to light but the attitudes are growing from the same dangerously malignant root. Many women have experienced horrific abuses within the power structures of our Christian world. Being any part of shaping misogynistic attitudes, whether or not they result in criminal behaviors, is sinful and harmful and produces terrible fruit. It also paints us continually as weak-willed women and seductresses. I think I can speak for many of us when I say we are neither interested in reducing or seducing our brothers.

The irony is that many of the men who will give consideration to my concerns do not possess a whit of the misogyny coming under the spotlight. For all the times you’ve spoken up on our behalf and for the compassion you’ve shown in response to “Me too,” please know you have won our love and gratitude and respect.

John Bisagno, my pastor for almost thirty years, regularly said these words: “I have most often seen that, when the people of God are presented with the facts, they do the right thing.” I was raised in ministry under his optimism and, despite many challenges, have not yet recovered from it. For this reason I write this letter with hope.

I’m asking for your increased awareness of some of the skewed attitudes many of your sisters encounter. Many churches quick to teach submission are often slow to point out that women were also among the followers of Christ (Luke 8), that the first recorded word out of His resurrected mouth was “woman” (John 20:15) and that same woman was the first evangelist. Many churches wholly devoted to teaching the household codes are slow to also point out the numerous women with whom the Apostle Paul served and for whom he possessed obvious esteem. We are fully capable of grappling with the tension the two spectrums create and we must if we’re truly devoted to the whole counsel of God’s Word.

Finally, I’m asking that you would simply have no tolerance for misogyny and dismissiveness toward women in your spheres of influence. I’m asking for your deliberate and clearly conveyed influence toward the imitation of Christ in His attitude and actions toward women. I’m also asking for forgiveness both from my sisters and my brothers. My acquiescence and silence made me complicit in perpetuating an atmosphere in which a damaging relational dynamic has flourished. I want to be a good sister to both genders. Every paragraph in this letter is toward that goal.

I am grateful for the privilege to be heard. I long for the day – have asked for the day – when we can sit in roundtable discussions to consider ways we might best serve and glorify Christ as the family of God, deeply committed to the authority of the Word of God and to the imitation of Christ. I am honored to call many of you friends and deeply thankful to you for your devotion to Christ. I see Him so often in many of you.

In His great name,

Beth

Because of some of the things Beth Moore brought out in her “A Letter to My Brothers,” the president and owner of the parent company of BCNN1, Daniel Whyte III, led by God, took the liberty to change the Apostle’s Creed and the Nicene Creed.

Baptist Preacher and Gospel Light Society President, Daniel Whyte III, Updates the Apostles’ Creed to Better Reflect Important Details of Jesus’ Resurrection

Daniel Whyte III, who happens to be a Baptist preacher, but who, for nearly thirty years, has read the Apostles’ Creed in family devotions with his wife and seven children, has taken the liberty to update it for the first time in hundreds of years.

According to the Lexham Bible Dictionary, “The Apostles’ Creed seems to represent some form of what the early church called the ‘rule of faith.’ The early Christians were guided by the ‘rule of faith,’ the Holy Spirit working in community and individuals, and the authoritative Scriptures. Before the ‘rule of faith’ was called such, there were general references to the teachings and traditions of the apostles. It is these core teachings that make up the Apostles’ Creed. Signs of these ‘core teachings’ are seen as early as the New Testament book of Hebrews, which speaks of a need for Christians to grasp and embrace the basic concepts of faith so that they can move into deeper parts of their Christian faith, while at the same time realizing how essential it is that they never depart from a core belief in the real and living Christ. The Apostles’ Creed represents a set of uncompromisable core beliefs for Christians. The Apostles’ Creed, like all creeds, functions like a filter for orthodoxy; it indicates what is and what is not ‘Christian.’ It is a public profession of belief in historic Christianity.”

Whyte made the change in the Apostles’ Creed because he believes the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus Christ should be included in the historic Christian affirmation. He states, “Perhaps the most important aspect of the post-Passion record are Jesus’ appearances to His followers. Obviously, Satan and the enemies of Christ did not want news to get out that Jesus had risen from the dead. As Paul said in 1 Corinthians 15:14, ‘If Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and our faith is also vain.’

“Thus, all of Jesus’ appearances after His resurrection are important, including His appearances to Mary Magdalene and the other women, His appearances to the disciples, and His appearance to over 500 brethren over the course of the 40 days following His resurrection. The record of these appearances in the Gospels and as recounted by Paul in 1 Corinthians 15 are important because they are eyewitness proof that Jesus was indeed alive in bodily form after His crucifixion.”

Whyte goes on to say, “The resurrection is a vital part of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is the one thing that universally sets Christianity apart from all other religions. We follow a Savior, Master, and Teacher who is alive. We, and the world, need to be reminded of that. A statement describing Jesus’ post-resurrection appearances should be included in the Apostles’ Creed because it is a part of the Gospel message. If we’re going to name Pilate, let’s name Mary Magdalene, the other women, the disciples, and the over 500 brethren.”

He recommends that all parents have family devotions (which used to be called “family altar”) each day. For those who have little children, Whyte urges parents to teach their young ones about the faith using this ancient statement of Christian belief.

The updates to the creed are in red and underlined below:

The Apostles’ Creed

I believe in God, the Father Almighty, the Maker of Heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord:

Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried;

He descended into hell. The third day He arose again from the dead;

He was seen alive by Mary Magdalene and the other women, the disciples, and over 500 other brethren; He ascended into Heaven, and sitteth on the Right Hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting.

Amen.

– BCNN1 Editors

With “A Letter to My Brothers,” Prophetess Beth Moore Will be Remembered in Church History With the Likes of Martin Luther King Jr., Billy Graham, Anne Graham-Lotz, and Other Church Leaders was originally published on BCNN1 - Black Christian News Network

[sandoirs]

I do not take selfies because the self does not exist.  Now that my doctor is dead, perhaps I can go back to eating schnitzel and drinking schnapps.  Cheese is alive. And full of anger.  I am pretending to find you interesting, while imagining the silence of nonexistence.  The only jobs that soon will remain are persuading the masses to accept the transfer of all the world's resources to a handful of people.  In aftermath of natural disaster, population decides not to work together, rebuild, or testify about the resilience of the human spirit.  Someday we'll look back on the extermination of all life on this planet and laugh.  Antimicrobial soaps are dangerous. Roll your children in dirt. Some days you just want to lie down in the soil and let the leaves cover you over, instead of answering email.   The earth will crash into the sun. The universe will die. But probably not today. #MondayMotivation  I asked the Dalai Lama to "make me one with everything." And he shot me.  Snarf(v): To eat or drink without regard for taste, personal dignity, or the law.  Dear Hipsters: Gray hair must be earned.  Hipsterism is the aestheticization of income inequality.  Postmodernism will be appropriated by reactionary conservatives to destabilize commonly-held notions of evidence. Someone needs to recognize and compensate the labor of mere existence.  I would like church better if it were on top of a mountain, and you could visit it only once, at great personal hazard.  I have become addicted to prescription placebos.  If one is peerless, there is no point in external review.  It is important for the most powerful corporation that has ever existed to pretend it is part of the vestigial U.S. counterculture. #Apple  Dear #Apple, I would like an augmented reality app that shows where terrifying events, throughout history, have happened.  When time-traveling, I recommend avoiding 1346-53 and the early-1970s.  Capitalism, as we all know, means governance by sociopaths.  Social media is important for ensuring that you never read anything that challenges your most deeply-held erroneous convictions.  ow can I smash the patriarchy when I am carrying all these groceries and take-out foods?  I am going to the astral plane to fight monstrous, spectral sauropods. Does anybody need anything?  A man without a dream is little more than a cow in the field. But to have dreams one must, in some ways, be mad. Study confirms that people who no longer care live longer.  The vampire squid is indifferent to ideology.  If you love something, set it free. Likely, it will starve and die in the streets. But perhaps it is better to have no entanglements.  I have a cat: From time to time, I change his name. He does not care. He knows that identity Is a human construct And is content Just being.  No, cashier, I did not "find everything I am looking for." But you did not mean it as an existential question. I absolve you.  Breaking news: Something awful is happening, has happened, or will happen.   I can no longer differentiate the beards of hipsters, the orthodox, the homeless, the simply mad, and English professors.   Extroverts are happier because, as all introverts know, they are stupid.  Teach a man to fish, And you have condemned him to labor in a declining industry.  College is important for making you a slave to the choices of your 18-year-old self.  Roses are red, Violets are blue. Each reflects different wavelengths of light. Neither has objective value. Camping is important for remembering that nature is disgusting and wants to kill us.  When a tree falls in the forest, it does, of course, make a sound, because, you need to realize, it is not all about you.  You do not need standing desks. You need desks that teeter on the edges of open graves for the moment you stop working.  Men do not climb mountains because "they are there." They do so because life is meaningless.  Coffee should not include cream or syrups. It should be a black, bitter foretaste of what we must face before this day is over.  The only creative work that will not be replaced by robots is figuring out how to commit ethical atrocities, undetected.  No, Mr. T., do not "pity the fool." Pity the learned person who understands, yet can do nothing.  Embrace despair but continue to seek beauty and truth.  People who eat healthy and exercise die younger, study confirms. However, they derive great satisfaction from being morally superior.  I have found that I can sing like Bruce Springsteen by never parting my teeth.  I must agree, Elvis Presley, we cannot go on together with suspicious minds, but the alternative is a comprehensive surveillance state.  If you want to know what you REALLY would have done in the early years of the Nazi regime, consider what you are doing now.  Are you sure you want to "have a beer" with me? I shall be silent and unsmiling, And interrogating with my gaze.  It is important for fitted sheets to slip off the mattress to make us despair of ever finding true rest in this life.  First, they came for the Nihilists, and I did nothing.  Job: Why did you destroy my whole family? God: Who do you think you are talking to? Job: Never mind.  Dear America: You are waking up, as Germany once did, to the awareness that 1/3 of your people would kill another 1/3, while 1/3 watches.  Toxic masculinity, as we all know, is the leading cause of climate change.  The new iPhone 8 will be charged wirelessly by ambient misery.  First they ignore you. Then they ridicule you. Then they take your livelihood. Then your family leaves you. Then you die in the streets. Nihilists' lives do not matter. And we are fine with that.  Money and power do not bring happiness. Nothing brings happiness.  I have acquired the unfortunate habit of imagining what people might look like as skeletons.  At least North Korea is making the Bay Area more affordable.  It is important to live with your furniture mistakes for at least ten years. It is the only way you will learn.  Dear librarians: I shall continue to respect you, even when you are feared by the general public as dangerous, feral, and fllthy outlaws.  The only people you can trust are young children, the mad, death-row inmates, the unconscious, and the dead.  Optimism requires a combination of ignorance and inexperience.  

Twerzog Aug-Sep 2017

[exfrenchdorsl4p0a1]

The Truth Isn't Trending Well With Democrats These Days: What Every Democrat Needs To Hear

I write this on the eve of the electoral college vote, which is tomorrow; I already know the results. I have known the results since November 9th at 2am. There will be no Hail Mary moment. Red states will not go blue. Your phone calls, letters, mass emails, and pleas have done nothing more than annoy the electors. All of that energy, the money spent on a recount, the false hope fed to us by our "progressive leadership", all it did was succeed in us taking our eye off of what really matters: fights that could actually still be won. The truth is: Donald Trump is our president. Please, my dear liberal friends: take a deep breath...and sit with that. Let it sink in. Cry your last tear, throw something, scream, and then save it for another day. We have four years of screaming and fights ahead...we need you to get back up and on your feet...now. I am officially turning the lights on and the music off at your pity party. Time to come home and organize. We as democrats have managed to point fingers at everyone but ourselves. The people closest to the campaign being the most arrogant. THIS is what scares me more than Trump. If we as a party, can not realistically understand that we lost, and look hard at where we lost this, then we are sure to just double down on the same failed strategy and lose again. Same old people, playing out of the same old dog eared playbook that Nixon, Reagan, Clinton, Bush, all used..and you know what that sounded like? The same words that the people have been hearing for the last fifty years. "apple pie" "freedom" "bald eagle" "hope" "a new tomorrow" same tired strategy, optics and words. Do you know how that registered in the minds of voters? They weren't quite sure where they had heard those same old phrases before, but they had, and they felt lied to, because we have been lied to so many times before by every politician. Everything Hillary did and said, felt "inauthentic" sounded like a "lie" even when it wasn't; because it was all out of the tired old playbook we had been manipulated with before. Trump threw the playbook out the window. He could have said "unicorns are crapping donuts out of the sky and it is the fault of Isis and the Muslims" and people would think, what the hell is this guy saying? I don't know, but he "sounds like a straight shooter to me". This guy "calls it like he sees it, whether I agree or not". AND THAT my friends, is how this election was won and lost. Messaging. We have pointed fingers everywhere: The FBI, the Russians, hackers, misogyny, racism, ignorance, the media, the electoral college, voter fraud, and today...we get a teeny bit closer to the truth: the scapegoat who is poor Huma Abadein, Hillary's closest advisor gets the blame du jour. Well, at least were getting warmer. The truth isn't trending well with Democrats these days, but here it is. We lost the election for two reasons: Hillary Clinton ran a terrible campaign.  People didn't vote. Period. Misogyny didn't win. The FBI didn't win. The Russians didn't lose us the election. Racism didn't win. Voter fraud didn't win.  Hubris lost.  We were so sure of ourselves, high fiving each other because Trump was such a "moron", meanwhile her communications team was a complete disaster. I had voiced my opinion to many people working on her campaign, and they were blindly out of touch. They simply did not care to hear anyone's opinion, any fresh ideas, and they did it their way, sticking to the old playbook that had been handed down for the last hundred years. Never daring stray from the script. I'll give you just a couple of examples of where we epically dropped the ball on a gold mine. Before I start, this is NOT an "I told you so"..it is simply a way to see, and learn from our mistakes, which we MUST do--once you read this, I think you'll get it. When Hillary fainted on 9/11 at the memorial because she had pneumonia. The Trump campaign ran with that. They immediately attacked her health, said she didn't have stamina, that she was not well enough to be president, and that she lied to the American people by not disclosing her "mystery illness". Clinton's camp sat quietly, and then they sent out the big guns. Bill Clinton came on tv and I thought, well thank goodness...Bill's got this. Do you remember what his response to her fainting was? "Hillary has been working like a demon...she gets dehydrated" I almost screamed at the tv. Why not tell the truth, and turn this moment into pure gold? A lovely alternative might have sounded something like this: "Hillary has pneumonia. I had pneumonia when I was 6. It's like an intense flu. Not cancer. She will get well soon. We didn't feel the need to announce every headache or cold she gets to the media. It is not life threatening. Mrs. Clinton would not have missed standing with those families on such an important day for anything in the world. So, with a hundred and three degree fever, she got up, and got dressed; to show up for the American people, to show up for those families, and to go to work. And while we're on the topic, how about we discuss how she, like millions of other Americans do the same thing Hillary did--everyday. They get up sick, they get dressed, and they go to work. Because we don't have paid family leave, or sick days; and you know, we probably should." The end. Now, was that hard? It wasn't. The mistresses? Again, Trump paraded them, blamed her, I saw women on social media saying that she was "so nasty" to the women her husband had cheated on her with. They spun it so it was somehow Hillary's fault that she was cheated on! Genius. Why on earth, did this woman not stand up, especially during the debates, and say "You know what? Thank you for bringing that up. I've been married to Bill for over forty years. Not all of them were easy. Many women in this audience, and men have experienced tough times in marriages and some have experienced infidelity. It is painful. It is usually private. I chose to forgive my husband to keep my marriage and family together. While I respect women who leave, I chose to stay. I chose to honor my vows said before God and family, and do what was the most difficult thing I had ever done, forgive and rebuild. I stayed when things got rough because I made that commitment. And as your president, I promise to do the same for you. I will stay and fight to make us stronger when things get rough. And you know what? I'm glad that I did, because now my marriage is stronger than ever and my daughter is doing great and I am happy." Good Lord, she would have sent it over the fences. Instead, when the mistresses were brought up, she would give a smug smile, and lean into the podium, half perched on her seat, and not address it. It was inauthentic. It was smug. It didn't read well. And whoever came up with that zippy slogan "Love Trumps Hate" clearly didn't understand optics. When I turned on the DNC Convention, and saw an ocean of people holding signs with the name Trump on them...I thought, this guy must be home laughing right now. Why on earth did we shake signs in the air with this man's name on them? He couldn't pray for better press...all hand delivered by...us. An auditorium of Democrats, enthusiastically shaking Trump's name. Sure, the word "hate" was on there, but so was "love". Bad messaging. Terrible optics. These are just a few very simple ways that she could have done better. From pant suit flash mob videos that looked like Gap ads, to completely uninspiring television spots (with the exception of the Gold Star Khan family, which was the only powerful piece of media I had seen the campaign run) to mosaic mashups of celebrities all montaging the same tired old message. It all just flopped. Add to that an ineffective speaker, whose speeches were canned, rehearsed and stiff, and she was an easy target. If you think that they don't "sell us our presidents the same way they sell us our clothes and our cars", you are mistaken. Hillary should have been as exciting as Obama in 2008. Our first female president, and even I, a devoted liberal had to rev up my own engine to muster any level of enthusiasm for her. I knocked on doors in Pennsylvania. I made a short video urging people to vote for her. I helped raise money. I wrote favorable pieces about her. The saddest part is that I have met her in person...she is not only graceful and kind, she is affable and lovely, brilliant, generous, and open. That is what upsets me most. She has it in her, and she would have been a terrific president. It just didn't read and she was surrounded by weak people advising her. I sincerely hope that they no longer work in politics. The polls were not "off" the people taking them were. Leaving out a percentage of folks who weren't racists or misogynists, they just didn't want to vote for Hillary, and kept their mouths shut, because they didn't want to be ostracized or called names. All of it, was a disaster, and I have lost more liberal friends than conservative, because the one thing liberals can't do right now, is hear that they failed. We failed. But ultimately the buck stops at Hillary. She didn't even come out on the night of the election to address the people who had worked so hard for her at the Javitz Center. They were given false hope and sent home crying, then given the news by Donald Trump who said that she had called him. Need I say more? We were still "With Her"...but she was no longer with us. My views have made me terribly unpopular. But I'm not going to lie to you. You have been lied to enough lately. Democrats right now want to hear what a jerk and scumbag Trump is, how we got robbed, and how there's still a chance. They don't want to hear the truth. But until we make peace with the truth and channel that anger towards fighting the real fights ahead, they are going to finish us off. Ohio and North Carolina are showing us that already. We were so busy talking about who really won and by how many and how we actually weren't to blame; while they have been hard at work stealing more from us. Please focus, everyone. We have lost so much, but we ain't seen nothing yet. So, I urge you, after the electoral vote count is in...pull yourselves off the ground, clean yourself up, and start fighting like hell. Fight the real fights we have in front of us. The victim look isn't a good look on any of us, and I, for one, am not going to be any part of that. I will be the one fighting rough, going as low as they go, and punching harder...because I am not going to die, and I won't let you or this country die either.

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2jsGdYT

[repwinpril9y0a1]

The Truth Isn't Trending Well With Democrats These Days: What Every Democrat Needs To Hear

I write this on the eve of the electoral college vote, which is tomorrow; I already know the results. I have known the results since November 9th at 2am. There will be no Hail Mary moment. Red states will not go blue. Your phone calls, letters, mass emails, and pleas have done nothing more than annoy the electors. All of that energy, the money spent on a recount, the false hope fed to us by our "progressive leadership", all it did was succeed in us taking our eye off of what really matters: fights that could actually still be won. The truth is: Donald Trump is our president. Please, my dear liberal friends: take a deep breath...and sit with that. Let it sink in. Cry your last tear, throw something, scream, and then save it for another day. We have four years of screaming and fights ahead...we need you to get back up and on your feet...now. I am officially turning the lights on and the music off at your pity party. Time to come home and organize. We as democrats have managed to point fingers at everyone but ourselves. The people closest to the campaign being the most arrogant. THIS is what scares me more than Trump. If we as a party, can not realistically understand that we lost, and look hard at where we lost this, then we are sure to just double down on the same failed strategy and lose again. Same old people, playing out of the same old dog eared playbook that Nixon, Reagan, Clinton, Bush, all used..and you know what that sounded like? The same words that the people have been hearing for the last fifty years. "apple pie" "freedom" "bald eagle" "hope" "a new tomorrow" same tired strategy, optics and words. Do you know how that registered in the minds of voters? They weren't quite sure where they had heard those same old phrases before, but they had, and they felt lied to, because we have been lied to so many times before by every politician. Everything Hillary did and said, felt "inauthentic" sounded like a "lie" even when it wasn't; because it was all out of the tired old playbook we had been manipulated with before. Trump threw the playbook out the window. He could have said "unicorns are crapping donuts out of the sky and it is the fault of Isis and the Muslims" and people would think, what the hell is this guy saying? I don't know, but he "sounds like a straight shooter to me". This guy "calls it like he sees it, whether I agree or not". AND THAT my friends, is how this election was won and lost. Messaging. We have pointed fingers everywhere: The FBI, the Russians, hackers, misogyny, racism, ignorance, the media, the electoral college, voter fraud, and today...we get a teeny bit closer to the truth: the scapegoat who is poor Huma Abadein, Hillary's closest advisor gets the blame du jour. Well, at least were getting warmer. The truth isn't trending well with Democrats these days, but here it is. We lost the election for two reasons: Hillary Clinton ran a terrible campaign.  People didn't vote. Period. Misogyny didn't win. The FBI didn't win. The Russians didn't lose us the election. Racism didn't win. Voter fraud didn't win.  Hubris lost.  We were so sure of ourselves, high fiving each other because Trump was such a "moron", meanwhile her communications team was a complete disaster. I had voiced my opinion to many people working on her campaign, and they were blindly out of touch. They simply did not care to hear anyone's opinion, any fresh ideas, and they did it their way, sticking to the old playbook that had been handed down for the last hundred years. Never daring stray from the script. I'll give you just a couple of examples of where we epically dropped the ball on a gold mine. Before I start, this is NOT an "I told you so"..it is simply a way to see, and learn from our mistakes, which we MUST do--once you read this, I think you'll get it. When Hillary fainted on 9/11 at the memorial because she had pneumonia. The Trump campaign ran with that. They immediately attacked her health, said she didn't have stamina, that she was not well enough to be president, and that she lied to the American people by not disclosing her "mystery illness". Clinton's camp sat quietly, and then they sent out the big guns. Bill Clinton came on tv and I thought, well thank goodness...Bill's got this. Do you remember what his response to her fainting was? "Hillary has been working like a demon...she gets dehydrated" I almost screamed at the tv. Why not tell the truth, and turn this moment into pure gold? A lovely alternative might have sounded something like this: "Hillary has pneumonia. I had pneumonia when I was 6. It's like an intense flu. Not cancer. She will get well soon. We didn't feel the need to announce every headache or cold she gets to the media. It is not life threatening. Mrs. Clinton would not have missed standing with those families on such an important day for anything in the world. So, with a hundred and three degree fever, she got up, and got dressed; to show up for the American people, to show up for those families, and to go to work. And while we're on the topic, how about we discuss how she, like millions of other Americans do the same thing Hillary did--everyday. They get up sick, they get dressed, and they go to work. Because we don't have paid family leave, or sick days; and you know, we probably should." The end. Now, was that hard? It wasn't. The mistresses? Again, Trump paraded them, blamed her, I saw women on social media saying that she was "so nasty" to the women her husband had cheated on her with. They spun it so it was somehow Hillary's fault that she was cheated on! Genius. Why on earth, did this woman not stand up, especially during the debates, and say "You know what? Thank you for bringing that up. I've been married to Bill for over forty years. Not all of them were easy. Many women in this audience, and men have experienced tough times in marriages and some have experienced infidelity. It is painful. It is usually private. I chose to forgive my husband to keep my marriage and family together. While I respect women who leave, I chose to stay. I chose to honor my vows said before God and family, and do what was the most difficult thing I had ever done, forgive and rebuild. I stayed when things got rough because I made that commitment. And as your president, I promise to do the same for you. I will stay and fight to make us stronger when things get rough. And you know what? I'm glad that I did, because now my marriage is stronger than ever and my daughter is doing great and I am happy." Good Lord, she would have sent it over the fences. Instead, when the mistresses were brought up, she would give a smug smile, and lean into the podium, half perched on her seat, and not address it. It was inauthentic. It was smug. It didn't read well. And whoever came up with that zippy slogan "Love Trumps Hate" clearly didn't understand optics. When I turned on the DNC Convention, and saw an ocean of people holding signs with the name Trump on them...I thought, this guy must be home laughing right now. Why on earth did we shake signs in the air with this man's name on them? He couldn't pray for better press...all hand delivered by...us. An auditorium of Democrats, enthusiastically shaking Trump's name. Sure, the word "hate" was on there, but so was "love". Bad messaging. Terrible optics. These are just a few very simple ways that she could have done better. From pant suit flash mob videos that looked like Gap ads, to completely uninspiring television spots (with the exception of the Gold Star Khan family, which was the only powerful piece of media I had seen the campaign run) to mosaic mashups of celebrities all montaging the same tired old message. It all just flopped. Add to that an ineffective speaker, whose speeches were canned, rehearsed and stiff, and she was an easy target. If you think that they don't "sell us our presidents the same way they sell us our clothes and our cars", you are mistaken. Hillary should have been as exciting as Obama in 2008. Our first female president, and even I, a devoted liberal had to rev up my own engine to muster any level of enthusiasm for her. I knocked on doors in Pennsylvania. I made a short video urging people to vote for her. I helped raise money. I wrote favorable pieces about her. The saddest part is that I have met her in person...she is not only graceful and kind, she is affable and lovely, brilliant, generous, and open. That is what upsets me most. She has it in her, and she would have been a terrific president. It just didn't read and she was surrounded by weak people advising her. I sincerely hope that they no longer work in politics. The polls were not "off" the people taking them were. Leaving out a percentage of folks who weren't racists or misogynists, they just didn't want to vote for Hillary, and kept their mouths shut, because they didn't want to be ostracized or called names. All of it, was a disaster, and I have lost more liberal friends than conservative, because the one thing liberals can't do right now, is hear that they failed. We failed. But ultimately the buck stops at Hillary. She didn't even come out on the night of the election to address the people who had worked so hard for her at the Javitz Center. They were given false hope and sent home crying, then given the news by Donald Trump who said that she had called him. Need I say more? We were still "With Her"...but she was no longer with us. My views have made me terribly unpopular. But I'm not going to lie to you. You have been lied to enough lately. Democrats right now want to hear what a jerk and scumbag Trump is, how we got robbed, and how there's still a chance. They don't want to hear the truth. But until we make peace with the truth and channel that anger towards fighting the real fights ahead, they are going to finish us off. Ohio and North Carolina are showing us that already. We were so busy talking about who really won and by how many and how we actually weren't to blame; while they have been hard at work stealing more from us. Please focus, everyone. We have lost so much, but we ain't seen nothing yet. So, I urge you, after the electoral vote count is in...pull yourselves off the ground, clean yourself up, and start fighting like hell. Fight the real fights we have in front of us. The victim look isn't a good look on any of us, and I, for one, am not going to be any part of that. I will be the one fighting rough, going as low as they go, and punching harder...because I am not going to die, and I won't let you or this country die either.

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2jsGdYT