#mark saint john

[rabid-dog-steve-horn]

[diioonysus]

women in art: jeanne d'arc

[illustratus]

The Bells of Saint Mark's, Venice by Edward John Poynter

[artandthebible]

The Four Evangelists

Artist: Abraham Bloemaert (Dutch, 1566–1651)

Date: ca. 1612-1615

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Princeton University Art Museum, Princeton, NJ, United States

Description

This canvas portrays the four evangelists with their symbols - Matthew with the angel, Mark with the lion, Luke with the ox, and John with the eagle - receiving the divine inspiration to compose their gospels.

[merriclo]

rating how much i think the members of The Guild would enjoy the Bass Pro Shop Pyramid

Francis Scott Fitzgerald — 2/10

the pyramid cumulatively cost around $300 million, if my memory serves me, so he’d probably appreciate it a little bit. other than that, he would literally never go because his darling Zelda wouldn’t enjoy it.

Louisa May Alcott — 2/10

get this sweet girl out of this strange ass pyramid Right Fucking Now. she’s said to be terrified of heights, so she’d hate the balcony and the elevator. she might enjoy some of the candy they sell there (and maybe the wax melts) but other than that, she’d just patiently wait to go home.

Herman Melville — 10/10

this is an old man whose life’s greatest passion is fishing. he’d fucking adore that place.

Edgar Allan Poe — 7.3/10

this might be controversial but listen guys. listen to me. this man owns a pet raccoon. he’s a professional sniper. he’s going to have a healthy amount of respect for the damn pyramid. plus, due to it being so damn large, there wouldn’t be many chittering crowds to annoy him. and i know it was said that he has a fear of heights, but considering that he spent that time off the Moby Dick scheming and releasing classified documents and the fact that he’s a sniper (requiring being positioned in high-up locations) i’m pretty sure his ass was lying. he still wouldn’t go up the elevator and onto the balcony though because those are crowded and loud places. also some guy claimed that the pyramid was a front for a cult (false) and that there was a crystal skull placed at the top at some point (true) and i think he’d really fuck with that kind of lore.

H.P. Lovecraft — 0/10

would be a 10/10 if the staff let him take a power nap at the bottom of the alligator enclosure. but alas

John Steinbeck — 10/10

this is a man of the country. get his ass in the Bass Pro Shop Pyramid this instant. besides i think he’d enjoy taking all his siblings there and letting them look around and have fun. family bonding

Lucy Maud Montgomery — 3/10

i really don’t think she’d enjoy it all that much tbh. though i do believe she walks outta there with a stuffed moose 100%

Mark Twain — 12/10

he is HOME. he’s looking at all the gun accessories and products available, Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn floating around him and giving their own commentary. also you cannot convince me that he didn’t work at his local Bass Pro Shop when he was a teenager. he was employee of the month always.

Margaret Mitchell — 7.8/10

if you’re from the south, you enjoy the pyramid. enough said.

Nathaniel Hawthorne — 4/10

tbh he’d probably be very indifferent. the only reason it’s not lower is because Margaret had a good time

[jurakan]

Fun fact please?

Today You Learned about Shion/Shony.

[Wikipedia’s article is under ‘Seonaidh’, but I read about it under the name ‘Shion’ in Mark Williams’s book.]

So, in the early 1700’s book A Description of the Western Islands of Scotland by Martin Martin (yes, that is his name) describes an annual nighttime ritual on the Isle of Lewis, in the Hebrides, in which the local church community would get together, pick someone to hold a cup of ale, and then wade into the water and dump it in while declaring it an offering to Shion or Shony to have a prosperous harvest. Now Marty-Mart thought that this was a holdover from an old pagan religion. It was popularly believed by scholars that ‘Shion’ must have been some old Celtic deity of the sea, whose cult was long forgotten, but that this one little island off the coast of Scotland remembered, if only for this one little holiday. Wikipedia even calls this ‘likely’, though it doesn’t have a citation for that sentence.

Welp. Probably not, according to Mark Williams.

In his book Ireland’s Immortals, Mark Williams talks about Marty-Mart’s records, and his own research. He also brings up that acclaimed scholar Ronald Hutton (famous debunker of New Age nonsense) independently came to the same conclusion, and that is this: this probably isn’t a pre-Christian ritual that survived. This is probably a pre-Reformation ritual that survived. After all, ‘Seonaidh’ is close to the Scottish Gaelic form of ‘Johnny’, in the same way that ‘Sean’ is the Irish take on ‘John’. Williams suggests that, given there are a ton of weird little festivals for saints all over the world, and the prominence of water, this is probably a ritual feast celebration to Saint John the Baptist, and it somehow survived the Reformation in this remote corner of Scotland.

A bit weird, but I hope it’s a good Fun Fact.

[catholic-saint-tournament]

About Pope St John XXIII (left)

About St Mark Ji Tianxiang (right)

Modern Bracket Round 1

[theramblingsoldier]

It has been a while since I last posted but I figured I’d post some stained glass windows that I have encountered. A portion of the glass here are from the Reading Public Museum and the Philadelphia Museum of Art. The vast majority are from Episcopal Churches which I’ll tag to save space.

[rabid-dog-steve-horn]

KISS - Then, now, forever.

Members of KISS's legendary musical journey.

Some had brief roles but they still played a vital role in the historical rise of the band that claims to be and continues to be "the best".

No offense to many of the members and the millions of fans out there, (especially here on Tumblr) but I STILL feel the best lineup of KISS was the original 4 that started it all:

Ace Frehley (space ace)

Gene Simmons (the demon)

Paul Stanley (star child)

and

Peter Criss (the catman).

[northemoonduringthenight]

Therefore, he immediately ordered an executioner to bring him John’s head. The man went off and beheaded him in the prison. 

 Then he brought in the head on a platter and gave it to the girl, and the girl in turn gave it to her mother

Mark 6:27-28

Artwork: Henri Leopold Lévy (French, 1840 - 1904) Herodias (1872)

[saintmelangell]

do you have any favourite historical overviews or introductions to christian mysticism that you could please recommend? ilysm habibti

works marked with * are what i would recommend for absolute beginners on the topic.

introductory works:

thomas merton, a course in christian mysticism: thirteen sessions ith the famous trappist monk*

william a. richards, sacred knowledge: psychadelics and religious experiences (on the practical applications of entheogenic, or drug-induced, mysticism)

william james, the varieties of religious experience, especially lectures 16 and 17*

bernard mcginn, the essentials of christian mysticism (arguably the best starter anthology of christian mystical writing)*

mircea eliade, the sacred and the profane

robert s. ellwood, mysticism and religion*

ed. amy hollywood, the cambridge companion to christian mysticism*

steven t. katz (ed.), mysticism and sacred scripture, especially the first chapter, "mysticism and the interpretation of sacred scripture," and the second chapter, "mysticism and scriptural justification"

primary works:

anon, the cloud of unknowing and other works (a.c. sperings translation for penguin is probably the most accessible)

teresa of avila, the life of saint tereesa of avila by herself

simone weil, waiting for god*

julian of norwich, revelations of divine love*

john of the cross, spiritual canticle (i recommend this to newcomers to christian mysticism over dark night of the soul, which is extremely dense and often devastating)

meister eckhart's sermons- though the book i'm linking is essentially a primer to german mystics

hildegard of bingen's scivias; but this selected works is a good place to start

margery kempe, the book of margery kempe by herself*

bernard of clairvaux’s sermons on song of songs*

marguerite porete, the mirror of simple souls

rebecca jackson, gifts of power*

catherine of siena, dialog

secondary works:

evelyn underhill, mysticism: a study in the nature and development of spiritual consciousness

evelyn underhill, practical mysticism*

caroline walker bynum, jesus as mother: studies in the spirituality of the high middle ages

caroline walker bynum, wonderful blood: theology and practice in late medieval northern germany and beyond

caroline walker bynum, holy feast and holy fast: the religious significance of food to medieval women*

grace m. jantzen, "eros and the abyss: reading medieval mystics in postmodernity"

grace m. jantzen, becoming divine: towards a feminist philosophy of religion

denys turner, the darkness of god: negativity in christian mysticism

jeffrey kripal, roads of excess palaces of wisdom: eroticism and reflexivity in the study of mysticism (+a lecture by him)

marsha aileen hewitt, freud on religion*

sarah clairmont, "she'll eat him up she loves him so" (one of my all time favourite papers)

also, the bible: which is probably the most vital of works on christian mysticism, as nothing you read about mysticism will not be influenced by it. i personally have recently been reading a combination of the JPS tanakh and the jewish annotated new testament, but the new revised standard edition (+apocrypha) is generally standard. if you are reading the bible academically for learning about mysticism, or have absolutely no background with reading the bible, i recommend the following books specifically:

the torah (genesis*, exodus*, leviticus, numbers, deuteronomy*)

the major prophets isaiah* and ezekiel*

the minor prophets (all of which constitute my favourite part of the bible) joel*, jonah*, micah*, malachai*

psalms*, job*, the song of songs*

the gospels, especially mark* and john (mark is the oldest and most "jewish," john is the most recent and most "gentile"; matthew and luke are probably more familiar than both)

the epistles: james*, jude*, 1-3 john, 1-2 peter, hebrews

the revelation to john

everything i've recommended here you can find online (internet archive or annasarchive); i've also tried to keep it extremely general and limited to work that i've personally read and vetted. if there's specific aspects or topics you're interested in (ie women's mysticism, medieval mysticism, mysticism and eating, freud and mysticism, commentaries on specific mystics etc) just drop me an ask! very honoured you've asked me beloved <3

[mustelidsinlove]

Dramione one shots that are never far from my thoughts

[in no particular order; mind the tags — some of these are dark]

As Sharp as Any Thorn by Argosy [E, 8.8k]

The road to redemption is a winding one. Christmas at Grimmauld Place, Post HBP.

Art: Night and Her Daughter Sleep (detail), Mary L. Macomber, 1902

Scenes from a Marriage by hiddenhibernian [T, 5.4k]

They say love isn't about what you say, it's what you do. If you see it that way, Hermione doesn't have any reason to complain.

Art: The Lovers, Akseli Gallen-Kallela, c. 1907-1917

Grit by witchsoup [T, 4k]

Hermione attempts to diagnose a secretive patient suffering major curse damage.

Art: Hands Grasping 7, Susan Manspeizer, 2018

remedia amoris by magneticwave [M, 14.7k]

The most amazing thing about Malfoy is not that he managed to build a successful Ministry career out of the total disgrace of his family, but that somehow Hermione only despises him half of the time that they work together.

Art: Circe Offering up the Cup to Ulysses (detail), John William Waterhouse, 1891

Inside by onebedtorulethemall [M, 7.5k]

Something is wrong with Draco Malfoy.

Art: Illustration from The West Wing, Edward Gorey, 1963

With Teeth by provocative_envy [M, 5.4k]

Albus Dumbledore had been wrong about Voldemort’s horcruxes.

Art: Escape Before the Dawn, Devinez, 2023

On the Virtues of Inexhaustible Burning by PacificRimbaud [T, 5k]

In which Draco Malfoy wrestles geology and Hermione receives several gifts.

Art: Saint Augustine (detail), Philippe de Champaigne, c. 1645-1650

I am Sleeping on a Time Bomb by i forgot to blink [M, 4k]

The war is over, and they go to Antarctica.

Art: Barne Glacier, Herbert Pointing, 1911

Tromp as Writ by a_rum_of_one's_own [E, 7.2k]

‘Merlin and Morgana, what’s that?’ he breathed. ‘Muggle underwear. We’re beyond chemises, you know.’ ‘Granger,’ he said. ‘Granger. You can’t. This isn’t fair.'

Art: Saturnina Canaleta de Girona (detail), Federico de Madrazo y Kuntz, 1856

Reset by provocative_envy [M, 4.5k]

And the fear—the fear that he’s learned to swallow, choke on, bury the crushed and fragmented shards of—it's turning the space between him and her and the last six weeks, the last six months, into a gaping yawning brutally invincible chasm; a wall to scale and a cliff to jump and a step he’s never quite been brave enough to take. She takes it for him. Of course she does.

Art: Joan of Arc, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1882

Chiaroscuro by ifyouwereamelody [T, 5.1k]

Draco Malfoy returns to Hogwarts for sixth year a changed man. Marked, dangerous, and tasked with something terrible, he finds himself haunted by memories of the year before — a bright spark of connection that now he's got no choice but to douse.

Art: Vengeance is Sworn (detail) from the Revenge Triptych, Francesco Hayez, 1851

The Street Where You Live by scullyvasan [T, 10.5k]

Muggle childhood AU. Single mother Narcissa Malfoy co-parents her son Draco and functionally parents the little girl down the street. Light homages to Books 1-4 but no wands, no wizards, no Hogwarts — just human magic and the passing years at work.

Art: Daydreams, Thomas Couture, 1859

The Running Club by winterwells [E, 10.4k]

Hermione returns to Hogwarts for the "Seventh Year Was A Cluster F*** So Let's All Do It Again!" year. The war has left its mark, and she copes in the best way she can. Running. And she might pick up some stragglers along the way...

Art: Stripes of Silence, Lu Guada, 2012

Whistle by witchsoup [T, 1.5k]

Hermione spends the majority of her time on the tube, or dashing around Sainsbury's hunting for the last of the vegetarian wraps for her two-thirds-complete meal deal. Though it would be somewhat off-brand, she feels that it's well within her rights to ask David Cameron to lower the price of a meal deal, while he's at it. Possibly her rent, too.

Art: Untitled, Isabel Bishop, c. 1940s-1960s

Lights Out by Phoebe [E, 10.2k]

She smiles, and it enrages him further. Granger is afraid of many things. She's afraid of what lies outside Hogwarts, what could be lurking within the walls. She's afraid of Voldemort, and probably of his father. And she is inexplicably, illogically afraid of the dark. But she's not afraid of him.

Art: The Woman with the Candle (detail), Cornelis Visscher II, c. 1643-1658

Salvage by storycat9 [T, 1k]

Who is Hermione Granger when there’s no one left to protect?

Art: After Igor Svyatoslavich's fighting with the Cumans, Viktor Vasnetsov, 1880

The Object Lesson by Fleurizel [M, 13.6k]

When Hermione is forced to spend a weekend at the Bulstrodes’ country estate glad-handing for the Ministry, she finds an unlikely ally in the only other house guest who hadn’t fled the country when the war broke out: Draco Malfoy.

Art: Hands of the Puppeteer, Mexico City, Tina Modotti, 1929

i think i've seen this film before by magneticwave [T, 24.8k]

It doesn’t occur to Harry until supper that night, while Luna makes a Spanish tortilla with pink and blue potatoes from her garden, that Granger might actually be his friend now. Not just a transferable friend, comfortable with him because she’d grown up with a strangely domestic alternative version of him with short hair, but a real friend. Since he’s not sure how to feel about it, he eats his half of the tortilla in a silent daze and then helps Luna go over the last of the proofs for next week’s Quibbler. 

Art: Still Life with Orange by Süleyman Seyyid Bey, c. 1900

Party Lines by PacificRimbaud [E, 10k]

As the dust settles in the 2000 United States Presidential election, Ivy League student Hermione Granger goes to three different parties, in an effort to think about something- anything- other than the state of Florida. So does that argumentative trust fund prick, Draco Malfoy. A college AU all about enemies who...aren't.

Art: Jasper Johns, Edisto Beach, Ugo Mulas, 1964

i have gone at dusk through narrow streets by i forgot to blink [T, 4k]

Draco, Hermione, and what came before and after the end.

Art: Interior Strandgade 30, Vilhelm Hammershøi, 1901

Breathe by Argosy [T, 14.5k]

The war is over and everyone wants something from Hermione. But that's nothing new; she can handle it. Really.

Art: Cupid and Psyché (detail), François Gérard, 1798

[idylls-of-the-divine-romance]

I am die hard on the idea that Mark 16:9-20 shouldn't be in our Bibles. Not even for like purity reasons (as I said, I like John 8). It's for literary reasons. The original ending just makes more sense verses to me then the longer version.

My NKJV Bible commentary disagrees with me but what do they know lo *shrugs*. (Example: Same commentary believes in the rapture.)

"Oh Mark wouldn't end his gospel on a note of fear" Yes he would. He told me himself. He would.

Also Mark? John Mark? Notorious coward? The boy who abandoned Jesus - naked? Who abandoned Paul?? Who according to tradition got his information from Peter - whoc cowardly denied Jesus 3 times??

I think John Mark - Patron Saint of the Afraid - knows a thing or two about fear and the horror of God's presence.

Anyway, these are just my thoughts

Question: @/christian tumblr, what are yalls thoughts on John 8? Specifically the section that is apparently not there in the original manuscript that was added later (the story of Jesus and the woman caught in adultery)?

My personal conviction is that it doesn't matter if it was in the original or not because it perfectly makes sense for something like this to have happened even if it didn't; it's not a contradiction of anything so I have no reason to question it. In fact, it supports the narrative greatly.

That said, anyone else have any thoughts??

[catholic-saint-tournament]

MODERN SAINTS ROUND 1 WINNERS/ROUND 2 BRACKET

St Therese of Lisieux vs St Padre Pio

St Maximilian Kolbe vs St John Bosco

St Arnold Janssen vs St Edith Stein

St Maria Goretti vs St Charles Lwanga

St Oscar Romero vs St Bernadette Soubirous

St Faustina Kowalska vs St Katharine Drexel

St Gemma Galgani vs St John Henry Newman

St Mark Ji Tianxiang vs Sts Louis and Zelie Martin

[dollyzdaydreamz]

Arthur Morgan x Reader:

A Clearer View

Description: High Honor Arthur Morgan x Dutch's daughter Reader Turns out, you’re not a terrible shot: you’re just blind. After Dutch chews you out for missing targets during a train heist, Arthur takes it upon himself to ‘fix’ the problem which brings a whole lot of unsolicited observations about Arthur Morgan. ⚠️Warnings: guns, knives, humor, fluff, Dutch being stubborn, John being annoying (✿◕‿◕✿)

i don't own any of the rdr2 characters, they belong to Rockstar (≧▽≦)

inspired by this fanfic I stumbled across. it is a masterpiece 🤌🏻

The first time you miss a shot in the middle of a train heist, you tell yourself it’s the high winds drafting over the area (it is elevated terrain, after all). The second time, you blame the gun. You haven’t cleaned it in a while (seeing as gun oil has been sold out lately). But by the third time, when your bullet strays wide and Dutch’s expression hardens as he turns to you amidst the gunfire, there’s no excuse to be made other than the fact that you simply cannot see from that far. Instead, you opt for pulling out your knife and taking down the gunmen from behind.

After the men have been cleared out, your father gathers everyone, giving each person instructions. Lenny, Arthur, and Micah are to search the train cars for valuables: money, jewelry, bonds. Even Bill has a task. As the group separates, you turn to your father.

“Well, what can I do?”

Dutch scoffs. “Well, exactly! What can you do?”

Ouch.

“If Arthur didn’t have you covered, you’d be dead!”

Your stomach knots as you lower your head.

He falters, his tone softening just slightly. “What is going on with you, Y/N?”

“I don’t know. I-”

“You don’t know?” His voice sharpens again, and suddenly, he’s right in front of you, eyes filled with something between disappointment and frustration. “Y/n, we don’t get to ‘not know’ in this life, do you understand?”

You swallow and nod.

He shakes his head, turning away. “Sort yourself out. Go back to camp and get some rest.”

As he stalks off, you exhale shakily, jaw clenching to keep the sting of frustration at bay.

Arthur leans against the crate he's just finished looting, arms crossed, watching, but unlike Dutch, his expression isn’t one of disappointment. After a few more days of watching you squint at distant things, tilting your head like a damn lost dog, he finally decides to do something.

A week later, he rides back into camp from Saint Denis as the sunsets over camp. You’re busy sitting at the little table outside your tent, cleaning your revolver, when a small bundle is tossed into your lap.

“Here.”

You catch it instinctively, looking down to see a rectangular box wrapped in blue velvet cloth. Frowning, you glance up. “What’s this?”

“Glasses.”

You blink. “Glasses?”

“Yeah. For seein" he clarifies, "y’know, that thing you ain’t been doin’ so well lately.”

You smile, about to thank him, but you falter when a warning finger meets your face “Now, I—I stole ‘em on that train, so don’t go thinkin’ I’m soft or nothin."

You huff a laugh but unwrap the bundle carefully. Inside, several pairs of frames sit nestled in their case, "That' why these are all marked with Sam's Spectacle Shop, Saint Denis?" you ask, feigning ignorance.

"Shut up." he huffs half-heartedly, sitting down beside you as you pick up the first pair and slide them on, only to immediately grimace at how the world bends strangely around you.

Arthur watches as you try another, then another, until finally-

You still.

Everything kind of sharpens. The blurred greens of the trees become distinct leaves, each serrated edge visible. The grass at your feet is no longer just a vague smear of green but individual blades, shifting with the evening wind. And when you turn your gaze to Arthur-

You hesitate.

For the first time, you notice things you hadn’t before. The speckle of green in his otherwise blue eyes, and the white strands in his hair underneath all the brown locks, something you find oddly charming. His face flushes slightly under the brim of his hat, clearly flustered at you studying him the way one might examine a painting in better light.

“You know, you’ve got some white hairs,” you blurt out, motioning to the side of his head.

Arthur furrows his brows at the uncalled-for observation before you begin to backtrack, realizing that might sound offensive.

“No, I mean-” you sputter. “It looks nice. Makes you look...uhm-mature, seasoned.” You gesture vaguely with a sarcastic grin.

He scoffs, reminded of the way Dutch sells him on some awfully thought-out, spur-of-the-moment plan, letting his body language do the work.

Arthur shakes his head, "Well, you sure are an odd girl," he says, getting up. But you catch a peak of that small smile tugging at his lips as he walks off, muttering something about those “Damned Van der Linde's."

Just as you’re about to head to your father’s tent, John, still recovering from his facial injuries, ambles over with Abigail.

“Well, ain’t this something? You look even more like a dork now,” he chuckles, pushing your glasses up further on your nose, a bit rougher than intended, making your head snap back. Abigail smacks his hand away, "John Marston, you rotten man! I think you look just fine, honey."

"Why thank you, Abigail," you say, shooting John a glare, "I can see a lot more clearly now."

Before John can utter another word, you speak up again, “And you’re uglier than I thought. Damn shame, really.”

John snorts out a laugh, “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” he hollers as he walks away with a giggling Abigail, waving you goodbye as they head towards their tent for the night.

You push open the lapels of your father’s tent with a mockingly stern expression, letting your framed eyes peruse the space. He’s busy looking over a map with Hosea, likely discussing a new lead. Dutch lifts his head, and for a fleeting moment, an almost imperceptible flash of guilt for scolding you earlier in the week crosses his face when he realizes it’s you.

“What’s this? Some new fashion trend?” he chuckles, motioning vaguely to your eyes.

“No,” you huff, taking a few steps closer. “Apparently, I’m not incapable of shooting-I’m just… somewhat blind.”

Dutch turns his head back to the map, unwilling to apologize just yet. “A damn shame.”

Hosea lifts his head up and flashes you a familiar, warm smile amidst the chill of the tent, "Those suit you! Where'd you buy them?" "I didn't, Arthur said he 'stole 'em for me'" you say with air quotes and Hosea chuckles,

"Terrible liar that brute is, their clearly brand new," he muses. You hand them over to him so he can inspect them more closely, before he gingerly puts them back on your face.

"I’m hoping you can get back to being one of our sharpest shooters.” he grins, nudging the revolver strapped to your waist,

“And I’m sure some people will regret doubting your abilities,” he adds, giving Dutch a pointed look to which he waves off with an inaudible murmur as he stares at the map.

“Ahh, come on, Father. I know that apology’s coming around eventually,” you say, giving him a rough pat on his hunched back. Beside him, you take notice to the oil lamp illuminating his makeshift library shelf.

“It better,” you hear Hosea say as you snatch one of the neatly organized books, knowing your father hates when you do that.

“Y/N!” Dutch finally yells, getting up from his seat, as you scurry out of his tent and back into your own with some new reading material to share with Mary-Beth.

The next morning, you and Arthur ride out after turning a bounty into the sheriffs office just for the heck of it, the sun casting long shadows over the valley. You glance at him sideways, noticing the faint freckles dusting his nose and cheeks, barely visible beneath all the dirt.

"You know… you have freckles," you mutter, getting a better look at them.

Arthur lets out a breath of laughter, leaning away from your pressing gaze. "Jesus. We doin’ this again?"

"I'm just sayin" you raise your hands in defense, "I never saw ‘em before."

A little sign marked in white paint comes into view a few meters ahead, and you realize that, without Arthur’s gift, you wouldn’t have been able to read it.

“First one to that sign wins!” you blurt out, not giving Arthur a chance to react before spurring your horse into a sprint.

“Wha—hey! Get back here, woman!” Arthur hollers before tugging his reins. “Shoulda left her blind,” he mutters.

But behind all his grumbling, he doesn’t seem to mind your new discoveries one bit.

dividers by @enchanthings-as on tumblr:) images found on pinterest but collaged by me

[craigtowens]

Praying To Hallow God’s Name

When we pray, “Hallowed be Your name,” that prayer is both an acknowledgment of God’s greatness and a request that He would empower us to live in ways that makes His greatness seen by others.

Listen to the podcast of this post by clicking on the player below, and you can also subscribe on Apple, Spotify, or Audible.  https://craigtowens.files.wordpress.com/2024/01/praying-to-hallow-gods-name.mp3 We said our protocol in approaching Almighty God in prayer is found in just two words: Our Father.  Notice the transition: your Father (3x in Matthew 6:6, 8) to Our Father (6:9). How does…