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hunterssm00n · 4 months

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Family is Forever

"I just found it interesting that... 17 years later, that little baby grew up to shoot him in the face."

also on ao3: here

*cw trauma, past violence, dysfunctional family, psychological trauma, aftermath of violence, serial killers, childhood trauma, michael myers is his own warning, mental institutions, emotional baggage*

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"I just found it interesting, that... 17 years later that little baby grew up to shoot him in the face."

~~~~

It had been three weeks, and the wounds still hadn't completely healed.

The physical ones, she was referring to. The stitches were still deeply imbedded in her skin, and if she moved her face just the right way, she could feel the skin begin to split. Scarring was inevitable - she didn't need the doctors to tell her that. Physical and mental. While the physical scars were merely cosmetic, the mental scars were deeper than the sharpest knife.

Three weeks, and she still hadn't been able to shake this. To shake him.

Laurie Strode closed her eyes to her reflection. She should've known better; when she closed her eyes, he loomed larger than ever. The dark circles under her lashes were proof of that - she hadn't slept well in three weeks (some nights, she hadn't slept at all). But really, who the hell blamed her?

Even now, Laurie wanted to go back in time and close her eyes to some of the things she'd seen. She'd never considered herself to be a sheltered child. She wasn't the most worldly seventeen year old, granted, but her parents had usually let her experience things that a normal teenager should be able to.

God, her parents. Tears came to her eyes at the memory.

Or, were they? She wasn't sure about anything, anymore. In any case though, biological parents or not, she still loved them; they had raised her, after all.

Laurie, in the midst of being rushed to the hospital after the incident, had overheard someone - be it a cop, paramedic - mention something about a family history of mental illness, and how the Strode's had managed to keep her from being like a woman named Deborah and a man named Michael for so long...

She was taking a wild guess, but she was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to hear that. She didn't even know what it meant.

This was what had led her to agonize for the past three weeks over the absurd possibility that the Strode's were not her real parents... something she had never even considered until now.

And the man... the one who, after terrorizing her for one night, now seemed to perpetually terrorize her every night in her head. Who was he? And what on Earth did he want from her?

Laurie knew, looking at her tired, wild-eyed reflection in the mirror, that somehow, all of this was connected. Part of her wanted to brush everything under the rug, and just forget what had happened. Another part of her knew that she wouldn't be able to move on if she didn't find out what the fuck was going on around here. And she also knew who she'd have to ask. The white haired man who had tried to save her- she prayed he would be able to answer her questions. He had called the nightmare male form Michael - she didn't think it was a coincidence that she had heard that name before. The white haired man, Dr. Loomis, had told Michael that 'it wasn't Laurie's fault', and to 'let her go'. What exactly was 'it', and why would this giant man, whom she'd never met in her life, think that she was somehow responsible?

Dr. Loomis knew something she didn't. She had to get these things figured out. She would never find peace, otherwise.

Laurie looked at her reflection in the mirror. Seeing the scars up close, for some reason, brought tears to her eyes. Why did this happen to me? She didn't care that she was 'feeling sorry for herself' - she had every fucking reason to.

And now, she had a feeling she was going to feel even sorrier when she uncovered a truth that it seemed everyone knew but her.

~~~~

As Laurie limped up the hallway towards the room Dr. Samuel Loomis was residing in in the special care unit, she pushed all thoughts that were urging her to run away to the back of her mind. Now that she was so close to knowing, it was like a physical need. 508, 508, 508... she searched the numbers on each door that she passed, and briefly hoped Annie's car wouldn't have a ticket under the wiper when she went back out to retrieve it. Mostly because she had taken it without permission, and she didn't want anyone to find out she was here. Undoubtedly, Sheriff Brackett would find out somehow - he always did; had since she and Annie were kids. While Laurie was forever grateful to him for letting her stay at his house - especially while his own daughter was in the SCU as well - she was aware that he also knew more than he was letting on, and if she was to ask, she knew he'd keep his mouth shut.

So, she'd found out what room the good doctor was in, hijacked Annie's car, and had driven to the hospital. She was going to be in some very deep shit after this, but she had the leverage of only wanting to know what everyone was keeping from her. So they'd all just have to back the fuck off.

508. Finally, she gimped to a stop in front of the room. She'd left her crutches in the car, as as not to draw attention to herself. Also, in case someone recognized her (like Brackett himself, or one of his cops), she'd be able to make a less messy getaway. That is, unless one of the stitches in her leg tore open. Why am I worried about this? I have every right to know who I am.

"Holy crap, here goes nothing." Or everything. Laurie took a deep breath, and opened the door to the room.

To her immense relief, Dr. Loomis was awake, watching TV. He recognized her immediately, as evidenced by the look of utter surprise on his face. Laurie let the door close behind her, and she limped over to the chair next to the bed on the left side.

"My dear, how are you?" asked this man whom she didn't know.

Easing herself slowly down into the chair, so as not to tear any of those damn stitches, she looked at him with a weary expression, "About the same as you; plus over a hundred stitches all over my body, minus four fingernails, and enough glass in my gut to make a windshield."

Dr. Loomis struggled to prop himself up into a sitting position in his bed, but Laurie reached out to touch his hand, "Please." She didn't want him to injure himself further, as he had almost been murdered trying to protect her. Her, this girl that he had never met in his life.

The white haired man turned his blue eyes onto hers, and then she realized she was crying, yet again. "Please, I - I -"

"Shh, it's alright," Dr. Loomis reached his other hand out so that both of his hands were clasping her outstretched one - it was about as much as he could move with an IV in his arm.

This was not what she had planned - she had carefully rehearsed what she was going to say before she came.

"Who is he?" she blubbered, snot running down her face. She hadn't wanted to spring this on him without conversation first, to soften him up, but she was far beyond the point of reasonable interaction at this moment. Dr. Loomis handed her the tissue box that was on his bed, and she took the whole thing, mushing two tissues into her watery eyes. Dr. Loomis didn't answer - he, himself, had been trying to rehearse what he would say when this happened. She had been a loose canon from the moment Michael had taken her hostage... Dr. Loomis knew that she would get an idea in her head, and it would eat away at her sanity until she found answers.

Unfortunately in this situation, the truth may have been worse than not knowing. It would certainly be a hard pill to swallow. Looking at her tear-stained, tired face, he didn't want to lie to her. The poor child had been through enough. And if she didn't find out from him, she'd find out from someone else, eventually. Someone who didn't know every extensive branch of this horrid story.

Once she calmed down a bit, she looked up at him with a silent plea in her eyes. "Who is he?" she asked again, "Why did they say that I wasn't a Strode?" To her own ears, her voice sounded foreign, almost like a childs. She grabbed another few tissues and wiped at her face, not looking away from the man in the bed.

He knew that she had to know, but at the same time, he didn't want to tell her. He wasn't quite sure how.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he struggled to come up with the words that would begin this nightmarish story, "... His name is Michael. Michael Myers." He saw a flash of recognition in her eyes at the name, and he wasn't surprised. Everyone knew that last name - they all knew the house, and that something terrible had happened there. The younger generations, such as Laurie's, were fortunate enough to not remember it as a real event, but rather as a horror story used to scare children. Not everyone knew the full story. Dr. Loomis was one of the few that did.

"Michael..." he began, then switched gears, "I assume you know the last name, and the rumors that are spread about it?" When she nodded, he continued, "I assure you, it isn't just a spooky story - it's so much more. Michael lived in the house with his family. He was a sweet boy, almost an old soul... but he had a-" How on earth to phrase this? "-a rough life. And when he was ten years old, he murdered three people in his home on Halloween night." Loomis swallowed, then continued. "He killed his mother's boyfriend, his older sister, and his sister's boyfriend as well. He then went into his baby sister's room, took her out of the crib, and sat on the front porch with her until his mother got home from work. Michael was taken to Smith's Grove sanitarium. After two years of incarceration, he stopped speaking indefinitely. As far as I know, he hasn't said a word since. His mother went on to commit suicide, and Michael remained in the sanitarium for seventeen years altogether... until one night, he escaped. Some guards became a little too comfortable around him, forgetting that he had murdered more than three people before he was fifteen. He broke out, and headed to Haddonfield - to his home."

Laurie tried piecing all of this together in her mind, and continued to wonder what the hell it had to do with her.

"Why did he kill my friends?" She felt the tears start again. Was it because Linda had been trespassing in his house? But then why had he tried to kill Annie? She hadn't even been on the same street as the Myers' house. "Why did he take me?"

Dr. Loomis took another breath, not looking at her. "I knew Michael's motivation would be to find his baby sister... She was the only other person besides his mother that he cared about. That's the only reason he came back here."

Laurie still didn't understand - the answer that her mind came up with made no sense. "I don't know anybody named Myers, though. There's no one in school with that last name. Why would he think I would know anything about his family... me of all people..."

Suddenly, it came to her, feeling like a train had unexpectedly come crashing into her at hyper speed. "Oh, God, I'm not - I'm not related to him, am I? Like a cousin, or something?"

Dr. Loomis looked at her then. "Laurie, you are his baby sister."

The weight of his words crushed her lungs, and a wave of dizziness crashed over her. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry - she didn't know if she could even do either one with this horrible heaviness in her chest.

The tears came again, "Please, are you telling the truth?" This couldn't be real. There was no way.

"Laurie," the white haired man looked somber, squeezing her hand, "I wouldn't joke about this, I assure you."

"So I'm not -" she blubbered, reaching for more tissues, "I'm not a Strode? I'm a Myers?" Every breath hurt; just the physical act of inhaling and exhaling seemed to be causing her actual pain. Her vision was becoming blurry.

"Yes," Dr. Loomis said with finality, his voice grim, "You are Michael Myers' sister."

Her vision went black, and Laurie screamed loud and long as she was sucked back into the world of consciousness. Her eyes shot open she realized she was in the guest room of Annie's house, where she had been staying for the past two months. Upon becoming aware of this fact, she relaxed back onto the mattress, trying to catch her breath. She hadn't screamed like that in weeks. Before the incident, she couldn't remember ever having screamed like that. It was exhausting, as well as embarrassing.

Laurie rolled over in bed, and turned the clock to face her head on the pillow. 5:11am. She still had another hour and a half before she would start getting ready for school. Sighing, she pulled the blankets up around her face, rolling onto her side. Whenever she awoke from her nightmares, it was usually a bitch and a half to try and fall back to sleep. She would wake up so suddenly; her heart pounding as he body would jolt itself up off the bed like she had been electrocuted wide awake to protect herself.

It was a legitimate fear - the reason for her nightmares was very much alive, and, as far as she knew, still sitting in Smith's Grove sanitarium (for the second time in his life). He had killed one of her best friends, attempted to kill another, and had taken her hostage in the basement of his house.

Their house; a sick part of her mind liked to remind her that she had lived there once, too. That was her intended home - the place she almost grew up in.

Angel. Her mind sounded out the word a thousand times in different tones, like some strange lullaby. Angel Myers. Much more interesting than Laurie Strode. But she was Laurie Strode. This Angel - how was an Angel Myers supposed to be? Probably nothing like a Laurie Strode.

She wondered if she would have turned out the same, had she grown up in that environment - so different from how the Strode's had raised her. Would she have the same values? The same morals and beliefs? Would she have dressed the same, acted the same? She doubted it. From what she had found out about her blood family, she would've probably been in juvie by now. Maybe she would've even picked up that knife, at some point -

Laurie squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to think about that.

And then there was the fact that she had a brother. Technically, she'd had two siblings, but her brother had murdered their eldest sister. What had she been like? Judith Myers... What would having a sister be like? Laurie had spent her whole life thinking she was an only child; it would've been so different from her single-child life now.

Her mind continued to wonder, and it kept drifting back to the one person she equal parts didn't want to think about, but at the same time, the person she wanted to know about the most.

Michael.

She also often wondered if he would have turned out the same, had she not been taken away from him. Most likely, she thought to herself, since her presence as a baby hadn't quelled his bloodlust in the first place. She'd only been removed from the house, as well as from the official report, once their mother had decided she just couldn't take it any more.

The whole thing was like a soap opera.

Michael was her brother, but she had barely perceived him as a human being - more so as a personification of her worst fears coming to drag her away. The mask he wore was all rotted and peeling - much like a hulking zombie. He was nearly seven feet tall. And he had instilled a fear within her that was so jarring, so deep, that she felt her chest clench just thinking about him.

That nightmarish man was her brother, and Loomis had said that she was the only person alive that he cared about.

This was why she had called Smith's Grove and asked if Michael Myers could have visitors. Once she explained her situation to the nice secretary, the woman had told her yes, surprisingly. The fact that Dr. Loomis had called a few hours before to ask the same question (on her behalf) probably had helped a little, she mused.

She could barely stomach the thought of having to go to school first. She was debating staying at home until she went over to the asylum to visit him. This was only her third week back at school - this was not at all how she imagined senior year would be. At this rate, she had missed enough school that she would either have to take summer classes, or just re-take the grade completely.

Who would've thought that one holiday would change almost everything?

~~~~

When Laurie stepped into the Smiths Grove, three thoughts went through her head at once: "I'm gonna puke", "I need to get out of here", and quite possibly the loudest thought, "One step at a time". That was what her psychologist kept telling her, and she repeated it daily like a mantra; one step at a time. One day at a time. One moment at a time. Take it all in stride, at whatever pace you need to go at. She held onto the advice like a lifeline; sometimes it was all she could take to keep from sinking to the floor in a hysterical mess. Kind of like right now, where she didn't know if she should try to turn and run as fast as she could, or if she should keep going. I'm here for a reason, I came this far. Just one step, one foot in front of the other. Another thought, perhaps the one that pushed her forward the most, whispered in her mind: This is the only way. Taking a deep breath, Laurie slowly started hobbling towards the front desk on her crutches. That last thought rang true: this was the only way. She had to know, had to be certain. Of what, she didn't entirely know. But she needed this.

She smiled, or tried to as she approached the front desk, realizing that it probably looked more like a grimace. She could only imagine how much like the Bride of Frankenstein she looked at the moment, what with all the stitches adorning her face and her hair flying around her head all crazy. She nervously tried to smooth it down with one hand as she parked herself in front of the desk, "Hi, um, I'm - My name is Laurie Strode," She took a deep breath, unsure of how to possibly continue. I'm here to visit the man that did this to my body, and also put this crazed-constantly-on-the-verge-of-a-breakdown look in my eyes.

Thankfully, the brown haired woman behind the check-in desk smiled, rising out of her chair, "Oh yes, Dr. Loomis called and said you might be coming." She reached a hand across the counter to gently grasp Laurie's. She tilted her head with a kind look, "I don't mean to pry, but are you sure you're up for this?"

Laurie thought for a long moment, deciding that this woman seemed too genuine and kind to lie to. "No." she answered honestly, "I'm not. But I have to do it now, or I never will." It was true - now that she was finally here, the fear and anticipation rising, heart in her throat, she knew she might never have this chance again. She'd probably get thrown in here right next to her brother if Sheriff Brackett found out she was even remotely close to this vicinity. Laurie could just imagine him saying to her, a pleading look in his eyes like the one he got when he just didn't know how to help her. Why Laurie? Why? I thought you were terrified of him.

I am, Laurie mentally answered to the scenario in her mind, More than I've ever been afraid of anything.

The rest of her registration seemed like a blur - then finally she was being led down a narrow hallway, weird fluorescent lighting beaming down on her. There were two guards escorting her, one on either side. Their dark clothes were beginning to blur in her vision as they continued their slow trek down the hallway. The metal clicking of her crutches with each step seemed to be growing louder in her ears, kind of like a bell tolling, or a blacksmith forging... Or a knife slicing through someone's back-

She stumbled briefly, catching herself before she faceplanted on the linoleum. The guards on either side of her immediately hopped to help, and she practically slurred, "I'm okay, I'm fine."

"You sure you're gonna be alright, Miss?" The guard to her left inquired. Laurie nodded in reply, beginning to start her trek back down the hall. They were almost at the end - she couldn't stop now. Almost there.

They reached the door, which was more of jail cell bars draped across the hallway. Past this point were the more dangerous patient's in maximum security, security had informed her before they'd started walking. The other guard to her right tapped his badge on the scanner, and the metal bars slowly started to open in front of them. All three of them stepped in to the small area about four feet by four feet between the sliding 'doors'. There was another guard on the other side where they were going to as well - definitely stationed there to stop any escaped patient's from getting through those doors. Laurie wondered, as the one set of bars clanged shut behind them, if there had been anyone at that post the night her brother had escaped. She shuddered inwardly, and decided she'd rather not think about that. Once the doors behind them were securely locked, the guard on the other side opened the doors in front of them. Laurie noted that they'd probably only open for someone with authorization, and only one set of bars would open at a time. She made sure to remember both of these factors just in case she would need to make a break for it.

She cleared her throat as they began to walk forward again, "Are these the only doors leading in and out of this wing?" she asked to anyone in particular.

"Yes ma'am," the man to her left spoke again, "And there's an officer here at all times."

Laurie tried to be comforted by that. She also tried not to remember how very easy it had been for her brother to dismantle the two cops that had responded to Lindsay's 911 call while Laurie had been in the house with the kids.

"Miss?" Someone was speaking to her, and then she realized both guards were looking at her.

"Uh, what?" God, maybe she shouldn't have taken her pain pills before she came; not to mention before she drove a car that wasn't hers.

"Are you ready?" Randy asked, motioning to the doors leading to the room that awaited them. It was then for the hundredth time that Laurie felt how not ready she was, her breath catching in her throat as she realized this was her last stop.

"Is he-" She almost couldn't finish her sentence, voice catching in her throat.

"Not yet, they're grabbing him outta his room now," the officer replied, then seeing her look of fear added, "Don't worry, there'll be six guards in the room wit' ya. He can't do anything."

Again, hobbling through the doors, Laurie tried very hard to be reassured. The words held no water; she'd seen her brother take more than one bullet and keep on going.

This room that they had just entered looked to be a cafeteria, of sorts. It kind of resembled a school lunch setting, but much bleaker. She decided that she didn't want to relate any of this to her normal life at all, and shook the thought from her head. Once she was settled comfortably at a table near the entrance, Kevin grabbed the vocera attached to the front of his uniform and spoke into it, "We're all set here, go ahead and bring Myers."

It was all Laurie could do to stay in her chair and not try and break out the door. This is actually happening, sweet Jesus. Her hands shook on top of her thighs. For the next few minutes she focused solely on breathing, staring at the table surface in front of her, attempting to keep her heart rate down. When she finally heard the door start to open, it felt like she was going to die right there. When she heard the chains clinking and the feet shuffling across the floor, she thought of how very good it was that she was already sitting down, for if she'd been standing she would've collapsed. And when she heard the chair across from her scrape against the floor as it was being pulled back, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she would never be the same after this.

Her hands gripped her thighs hard to cease trembling as she looked up very slowly. He was already looking at her, just as she'd expected. What she had not expected was the sheer size of him, nor the mask on his face, nor the crushing power of his gaze that practically withered her away to pure nerves. The only sound he made was gentle breathing, and he didn't move at all. He unnerved her so much just sitting here, staring at her, that she wanted to cry. But she didn't. She forced herself to look directly into those eyes, and addressed him as bravely as she could, "Michael."

The words came out in a whisper, a side effect of her fear, and she cleared her throat so that her voice would carry more volume. "Michael." To the untrained eye, it would appear that the name had no effect on the being in front of her whatsoever. However, Laurie noted that he did, in fact, react to it in possibly the only way he could. He straightened in his seat ever so slightly; such a miniscule thing, but she was watching him so intensely that she could see everything. Were it not for him breathing, and the slow pulsing vein in his neck, he could've passed for a dead body propped upright in the chair.

Laurie waited for something, anything else to happen. She waited for what felt like minutes. He did absolutely nothing else. Didn't say a word, didn't move a muscle. It was dead quiet in there, save for his breathing. One of the guards radio's crackled, and the sudden sound startled Laurie out of her stupor. Michael didn't flinch, unbothered by anything and everything. She wondered what exactly was wrong with him. He didn't look sick - not like other mentally unstable patients she'd ever seen or heard of, which admittedly was not many. This wasn't like the movies, or TV shows she'd watched. He wasn't foaming at the mouth, wasn't speaking in tongues, wasn't climbing up the walls. He wasn't emaciated or deathly pale. There was something wrong with his mind, but what exactly, she didn't know. She wasn't sure if anybody knew. What she did know was that anyone who had assumed this seemingly catatonic man was a ten year old trapped in a thirty-something year old's body was dead wrong; there was fierce intelligence swimming in his eyes. That she could see from any distance. They gleamed underneath his long, scraggly dirty blonde hair that looked like it hadn't been brushed in months. Underneath the crude paper mache, orange mask that looked vaguely like a jack-o-lantern.

She had to admit, even as her hands were still trembling on top of her thighs under the table, and even though her stomach still churned, she was enthralled by him. She wasn't sure what it was about his presence, but it held her hostage just as much as he had when he'd kidnapped her. She knew that her obsession with him on top of her fear was part of what had drawn her to come to him today. Laurie also couldn't deny; knowing that she had family, real blood family sitting right here before her eyes... it stirred something within her. And that was the only thing keeping her here.

She wasn't sure how long they sat there just staring at each other; studying each other openly. Well, she assumed he was studying her. He didn't appear to be doing anything other than collecting dust in the chair across from her. She knew that she should probably get going soon, unsure of what time it was at the moment, and even more unsure of when the Sheriff would return home to check on her. She had known from the get-go that there was always that possibility that he would realize that she had gone, more like probability. But if she covered her tracks well, he'd never know where she'd really been. No one would.

Though she was still terrified beyond reason, she was also intrigued enough to come back. Admittedly, she wanted to know more about her brother, even after all the horrible things he'd done. Why had he done those things? What had driven him? The answer to that would probably lie within their family environment that he had grown up in. She had to find out more about her blood family, and maybe she'd get some answers. She wanted to know him; though he'd caused her pain and fear beyond her imagination, she knew that he wasn't completely to blame for his own state of mind. There had to have been something terrible that had happened to him in order for him to be the way that he was. Despite everything he'd done, she felt a spark of sympathy for the man in front of her.

Her attention was immediately drawn to her brother when he shifted in his chair, and despite herself, she flinched. She knew there was (probably) no way he could break out of those chains, with his arms handcuffed to the back of the chair behind him. Then again, underestimating people like him was usually what got others into a lot of trouble. And after seeing all the mayhem he had previously caused, underestimating him was the last thing she should be doing. She looked at him, realizing that he had probably moved to get her attention, and for no other reason. Had she been zoning out again? She knew she had to get going before she became too lethargic, as inevitably the pain pills would soon kick in full force.

Very slowly, Laurie reached into her sweatshirt pocket with her bandaged right hand. She pulled out a folded photograph; the very one that the man before her had given her in the basement of their old house. She would never admit how many times she had just sat and stared at the picture, sometimes for hours. If she awoke from nightmares and couldn't sleep, she took the picture out from the top drawer of her nightstand and stared at it until her eyelids drooped. How very different things were when that picture had been taken; a little smiling blonde haired boy with nothingness in his blue eyes holding a screaming baby who clutched him like a lifeline. The picture had woven its way into her soul and filled some lonely place there.

Unfolding it, she looked at the photo one final time before she slid it across the table to stop right in front of Michael, her hand trembling despite all her efforts to stop it. He followed the picture across the surface with his eyes before tilting his head up to look at her fully. She looked back at him, and something passed between them. She could feel it, and she knew by the way he continued to stare at her that he felt it too. Somewhere in the distance an alarm sounded, and yet they remained unmoving; the Myers siblings, both silent and still in the chaos. Family. The hair on the back of her neck rose. There was no going back after this.

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AN: I do not own the Halloween franchise or any of it's characters. The above photos are from pinterest, and attached are links to the original posts.

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vampirealm · 11 days

Text

I suppose there's always a contradictory feeling in each emotion we do feel. Perhaps they're not contradictory.

Sometimes you feel a thing, then you feel the most opposite of it you could possibly do. But I just realized recently, a lot of my contradictory feelings are, in fact, not contradictory at all. Some are not even truly feelings. Or maybe they are.

I can't even tell anymore.

Sometimes I feel like i'm hanging— holding onto nothing. Which, truth is, yes, it's terrifying at first. You get to understand, however, how more comforting it can also be, because it cannot disappear. There's a nothing in everything, and that too is the only comforting knowledge that so happens to become unbearable all the same.

There's this need inside me. Such a deep, harrowing need to be hurt that I behold in the core of my being.

And I wonder — is this me? Is this who I am, who I really am? Is it just a part of me, the same way it it my need for shelter and satiety?

Is it any different if it part of me or all of me? It doesn't matter if it occupies the smallest fraction of land of what my flesh is: it's still me.

The problem grew with me, and like me, it has a profound wound in the center of whatever it is. It could have been a small part of me, and that way, I could have still pretend to be a human being as I blend in. I can't keep doing that as much nor as well as I used to.

Well, no, I can still do it well with most people if I try. I simply can't bring myself to feel any ounce of worry anymore.

No, that's a lie too. I do worry, sometimes. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes it's both. My entire life, some contradiction was battling inside me. If I am told to be this, I can't be that. But then, I'm told to be that as well. So I'm both, depending or at once.

I don't feel like I am. I stopped feeling like I was anything long ago, and longer since I realized I couldn't understand what being human meant.

I tell myself: being human is biological. That's obvious, that's the literal meaning. I am human.

I can't feel that way, no matter how much I repeat those words over and over in my head.

I wish to be hurt. It always came to that in some way. Now it's all the time, and it's worse. That need — it grew with me. This time it's growing above me. Over me. Around me. It swallows anything else I could, can, want, and try to be.

I need pain.

Without believing in any God, and believing only that if a God is out there, I would never forgive them; I pray.

Oh, God, please hurt me. Please, please, please. I am begging for it now. I am, now. I begged for the pain to end all the time back then, and now that I search for it, why can't you bring it to me?

It's sin, that's all it says back. My mind, I mean. God never spoke to me. That would either prove my unfaith wrong, or prove my insanity right.

It's sin. What is it? I don't know. I am. Why? I don't know. Am I wrong? I don't know. Is me wrong, or is it something in me wrong? I don't know.

God, I don't know a single thing. I have no idea about who I am. Or what I am. Despite being aware of my humanity, of my name. I don't know who that is whenever I take a glance at a reflecting glass.

These thoughts, I don't even know when they started. Perhaps they were always there, hidden in me, waiting to be detonated.

Since when do I crave to be hurt so bad that I imagine it in such detail?

Yes, I do imagine it, in many different ways and times. I imagine a knife tearing my chest apart: rapidly, forcefully, violently. I imagine my blood flying across the room — the world. My blood drops out, my heart is taken and the ropes of it break with the sound of cords stirring. It sounds like a starving wolf then devouring my skin, my flesh, my organs and bones in between heavy panting and uncaring stabs.

Other times there's also a knife, just as cold and as sharp, yet its cuts on my skin are large instead of bottomless. It comes from my shoulder down to my wrist, from my throat to my ribcage, from my thigh to my ankle. It cover each inch of my tissue of my body with long, barely dripping bloody cuts. The cold metal covers, slowly, with the warmth of my blood and as slowly it cuts, the blood dries on top of the edge of the tool. Measuredly, the sharp of it penetrates my abdomen. Slow, slow and still superficial as it creeps to sink further in my insides. Blood pours again. Blood is so warm, and it feels like a hug all around me despite the entering cool sensation at the start of my limbs and hazy sight. Suddenly, it's black.

There's much more, and it's much deeper than that, though, that I can't explain it.

There's many other things I imagine.

I fantasize about being hit. Being tied. Being spit. Being defeated. Being bitten. Being cut, of course. Being eaten.

Some of those things have been done to me, but I want them to hurt more.

All of that sounds outstandingly appealing to me. Though I do get why people seem concerned or freaked out whenever any of that is mentioned.

But all of that sounds like love to me.

I do want to be hurt, urgently. However, I do not wish anyone to hurt me. Albeit I'll probably let almost anyone hurt me. I want someone to know me — to know this, and every other wrecked part of me — to know me, to understand me, and love me nonetheless.

I want that person to love me this way. That's love to me.

And I am aware, too, that is not healthy. That's a really polite way to put it when anyone says it to me. I know they mean that it's not sane. At moments, I feel like I'm losing my mind. Then I wonder if I haven't lose it already.

Even when I can no longer control myself, and all the tears and rage and pain and urges come afloat — I can't let myself lose control. I can't let myself seem too bad, although I'm sure from the outside is already bad enough.

It could be much, much worse. I could get and be much worse than whatever this is.

I think this is, somehow, part of me. Besides my traumas, my unhealthiness, and my broken mind. Maybe this was already part of me, and it just got worse.

Because I always thought about how unbearably boring and dull life was. And inside this paradox of mine, another one opens, for part of me wishes to do nothing but live normally. Well, that's just my wish to be loved. I want people to like me, and I can get people to like me.

I am just a normal person sometimes. I laugh at bad jokes. I pet my cat, and land hundreds of kisses on his head, because he's so cute all the time.

That's why, for a long time, I was sure everyone felt the same. We simply hid these feelings, urges, needs, fantasies. Whatever it is. I thought it was normal. I wanted to be normal, and I was able to pretend I was.

I still can, if I get some strength in me. But I'm way too tired by now to even try. I'm exhausted of hiding me. The entirety of these stupid words stems from the unfathomable depths of my soul. Metaphorically, as I don't believe souls exists.

I want to be loved the way I never felt loved. Hurt, pain, blood. That's my love, and I want someone to love so. To love is to consume. I want someone to love me so much it's never enough, so much it's suffocating. I want someone to love me so that need to split my meat, to rummage inside, to drink my blood, to crash my lungs and stomach and liver and veins, to munch my heart.

It feels like love, and it feels like acceptance.

And it's not some dull, shallow, vacuous act. It's not normal. I know that. I sure hope it to be as insane and as deranged as it could possibly be.

Part of me despises the thought of a normal life. I can't be as normal as I can act, no matter how much I pretend. Part of me just wants to give into this irrational whirl of emotions. It's not irrational to me in the slightest. It's veracious, it's vicious. How much I long for this viscerality.

There's no me more truthful than what this thoughts say about me, despite what that could be.

It's terrifying, if I'm honest. I don't want people to look at me as if I'm bad, or crazy, or with pity in their eyes or maybe with disbelief.

I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I could fully be like this. But I am none of those, and that leaves me nowhere, as no one.

Then my need to be hurt clings on my need for death. It would be easier to just die.

But it becomes a never-ending circle.

I wish I could die at the hands of someone willing to saciete themselves with my blood and heart.

I want to be devoured. And once swallowed, hunt them forever.

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 1 year

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20th May >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on John 16:23-28 for Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter: ‘Ask and you will receive’.

Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

Gospel (Except USA)

John 16:23-28

The Father loves you for loving me and believing that I came from God.

Jesus said to his disciples:

‘I tell you most solemnly, anything you ask for from the Father he will grant in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and so your joy will be complete. I have been telling you all this in metaphors, the hour is coming when I shall no longer speak to you in metaphors; but tell you about the Father in plain words. When that day comes you will ask in my name; and I do not say that I shall pray to the Father for you, because the Father himself loves you for loving me and believing that I came from God. I came from the Father and have come into the world and now I leave the world to go to the Father.’

Gospel (USA)

John 16:23b-28

My Father loves you because you have loved me and believed in me.

Jesus said to his disciples: “Amen, amen, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you. Until now you have not asked anything in my name; ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be complete.

“I have told you this in figures of speech. The hour is coming when I will no longer speak to you in figures but I will tell you clearly about the Father. On that day you will ask in my name, and I do not tell you that I will ask the Father for you. For the Father himself loves you, because you have loved me and have come to believe that I came from God. I came from the Father and have come into the world. Now I am leaving the world and going back to the Father.”

Reflections (12)

(i) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

As a result of the pandemic and our inability to gather in church, the church in the home came to the fore much more. We have come to appreciate that the domestic church is the core of the church. When we gather in our parish church, it is the coming together of all the domestic churches in the parish. Even those who live alone are the church in their home, the domestic church. The early churches gathered in each other’s homes for worship, faith formation, community support. There were no church buildings until well into the fourth century. In a sense, the church began as a domestic church. The members of the church ministered to each other within their own homes and families and also beyond their homes. In today’s first reading, a married couple in the church in Ephesus take an interest in a believer called Apollos and gave him further instruction in the faith. They became what we would call today his catechists. As a result, Apollos was able to leave Ephesus to go to the church in Corinth and become a great help and support to the church there. Today’s first reading gives us a little glimpse into how the members of the early church supported one another and built up one another in the faith. That is our calling as members of the church today. The Holy Spirit has gifted everyone in the church to serve others in the faith in some way. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus says to his disciples, ‘Ask and you will receive’. In these days we could all ask the Lord for the wisdom to recognize how he is calling me to serve others in the church and for the courage and generosity to answer his call.

And/Or

(ii) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

There are many forms of prayer. Perhaps the prayer that comes most naturally to us in some ways is the prayer of petition. The one prayer that Jesus gave to his disciples to pray was a prayer of petition, the Lord’s Prayer. The gospels portray Jesus as petitioning God; his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane is such a prayer, ‘Father, take this cup from me’. In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus encourages his disciples to petition God, ‘Ask and you will receive, and so your joy will be complete’. We know from experience that we don’t receive everything we ask for in prayer; we ask God to heal someone we love and it doesn’t happen. Yet, Jesus encourages us to ask and in asking he promises us that we will receive. He seems to be saying that in asking, in petitioning God, we always receive, even if we do not receive in the way we wanted to receive. Our prayer of petition creates a space in our lives in which God can work for our ultimate good. In that sense no prayer, offered in faith and trust, is ever wasted.

And/Or

(iii) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

I was struck by the way this morning’s first reading describes members of the early church supporting and helping each other in their faith. Paul is described as encouraging all the followers. Reference is made to Apollos, a member of the church in Ephesus, a very gifted man, but not fully formed in the faith. A married couple, named Priscilla and Aquila, took a great interest in him and gave him further instruction in the faith, sharing their deeper understanding of the faith with him. Then when Apollos decided to journey from Ephesus to the church in Corinth, the members of the church in Ephesus encouraged him. They didn’t want to keep him for themselves; they realized that others could benefit from his gifts. They not only encouraged him but they sent a letter of recommendation ahead of him to the church in Corinth. When Apollos arrived in Corinth we are told that his knowledge of the Scriptures was a great help to the believers there. The reading paints a wonderful picture of the church at its best - believers helping, supporting and encouraging each other in the faith, helping one another to grow in the Lord. This is what the church is called to be in every generation; this is the church in which the Spirit of Christ is alive and active. As we approach the feast of Pentecost we need to pray for an increase of the gift of the Spirit among us, as Jesus says in today’s gospel reading, ‘Ask and you will receive, and so your joy will be complete’.

And/Or

(iv) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

I was very struck by the way this morning’s first reading describes members of the early church supporting and helping each other in their faith. It is said of Paul that was encouraging all the followers; he was a great source of encouragement to other believers. The reading speaks about Apollos, a very gifted man, but not fully formed in the faith. A married couple, named Priscilla and Aquila, took a great interest in him and gave him further instruction in the faith, sharing their deeper understanding of the faith with him, and in that way, they brought him on. Then when Apollos decided to journey from the church in Ephesus to the church in Corinth, the members of the church in Ephesus encouraged him. There’s that word encouragement again. They didn’t want to keep him for themselves; they realized that others could benefit from his gifts. When Apollos arrived in Corinth we are told that his knowledge of the Scriptures was a great help to the believers there. Having been helped by others, he, in turn, was a great help to others. The reading paints a wonderful picture of the church at its best, believers helping and supporting and encouraging each other in the faith and, thereby, witnessing to those who do not yet share their faith. In an hour’s time, the church will be full of children making their first communion. They will need our support and encouragement and witness if they are to grow in their relationship with the Lord and become all he is calling them to be.

And/Or

(v) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

In this morning’s gospel Jesus speaks as one who is leaving this world and going to the Father. As he does so, Jesus encourages his disciples to ask for whatever they need and their prayer will be heard. They are to ask in his name, in other words, they are to ask in a way that is in keeping with his will for them. If they prayer in that way, Jesus assures them that their prayer will be heard and their joy will be complete. Jesus encourages us all to ask him for whatever we need to live in a way that is in keeping with his desire for our lives. That can often be a struggle and sometimes we can be tempted to give up the struggle. It is then that we need to pray, to ask the Lord for the help that he alone can give us, the help that enables us to do his work, and, indeed, as he says, to do even greater works than he has done. Jesus almost seems to rebuke the disciples when he says, ‘until now you have not asked for anything in my name’. He encourages us to ask, to live our lives as his followers not on our resources but in union with him, recognizing our dependence on him.

And/Or

(vi) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

This morning’s first reading from the Acts of the Apostles gives us an insight into how people in the early church supported one another in faith. We were introduced in that reading to a man called Apollos. By all accounts he was a very impressive figure; he had a sound knowledge of the Scriptures; he spoke with great eloquence, and had been given instruction in the faith, in the Way of the Lord. Yet, it is clear that he needed further instruction in the faith and that was given to him by a married couple by the name of Priscilla and Aquila. Apollos obviously had gifts that this married couple did not have, and, yet, they had something which he didn’t have; they had a fuller understanding of the way of the Lord. Apollos had a great deal to offer but he also had something to receive from this married couple. That is how it is in the church. We need each other’s faith if we are to grow in faith. We need the believing community if we are to grow in our relationship with the Lord. Within the community of faith we have an opportunity to give from our own faith and to receive from the faith of others. As members of the body of Christ, we all have something to offer and we all have something to receive. When it comes to the faith and our relationship with the Lord we are always interdependent. We need the church, the living community of faith; we cannot go it alone.

And/Or

(vii) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

At the end of this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus says of himself, ‘I came from the Father and have come into the world and now I leave the world and go to the Father’. There is a sense in which it is true to say that what Jesus says of himself there applies to all of us. We have come from the Father into the world and we will leave the world and go to the Father. In between this coming into the world and this leaving the world we are called to be in a deeply personal relationship with God the Father, through his Son, in the Spirit. God sent his Son into the world so that we could become brothers and sisters of his Son through faith and sons and daughters of God the Father, sharing in Jesus’ own relationship with God. We spend the whole of our earthly lives growing into that baptismal calling, that baptismal identity, of sons and daughters of God, and brothers and sisters of Jesus. We need each other’s faithful support if we are to become all that our baptism calls us to be. We have a very good example of such faithful support in today’s first reading. Apollos was a very learned Jew from Alexandria in Egypt who had been instructed in the way of the Lord. Yet, a very active married couple in the early church, Priscilla and Aquila, recognized that he needed further instruction in the way of the Lord and they took him aside to teach him further. This married couple were among the first catechists in the early church. We all need each other’s faith, each others gifts, if we are to live our baptism to the full and so arrive to the Father from whom we have come.

And/Or

(viii) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

Today’s gospel reading is again set in the context of the last supper. Jesus tells his disciples that a day is coming when he will no longer need to pray to the Father on their behalf, ‘I do not say that I shall pray to the Father for you’. This is because on that day the disciples themselves will enjoy an intimacy and communion with God that up until then has belonged to Jesus alone. The ‘day’ that Jesus refers to there is the day of Easter, the day of Pentecost, the day of the church. Through the outpouring of the Spirit we are caught up into a relationship with God, which is a sharing in Jesus’ own relationship with God. As Saint Paul says, the Spirit that has been poured into our heart cries out ‘Abba, Father’ as Jesus does; through the Spirit we receive adoption as sons and daughters of God, sharing in Jesus’ own relationship with God. Through the Spirit we can pray directly to the Father as Jesus does. Such is the depth of our communion with God through the Spirit that Jesus does not have to stand between ourselves and God to make representation on our behalf. One of the principal messages of John’s gospel is that Jesus has come to drawn us into that same communion with God the Father that he has enjoyed from all eternity. That is why what Jesus says of himself can often apply to all of us. At the end of the gospel reading Jesus says, ‘I came from the Father and have come into the world and now I leave the world to go to the Father’. This is the essential truth about Jesus’ life, but it is also the essential truth about our lives as well. We have come from God the Father and we are on a lifelong journey to the Father.

And/Or

(ix) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

The first reading from the Acts of the Apostles gives us a very striking picture of how the members of the early church ministered to each other. Apollos had come to Ephesus from Alexandria. He was both an eloquent and a learned man, but he needed further instruction in the faith of Jesus. This instruction was provided by a married couple, Priscilla and Aquila, who were in a position to give him the instruction he needed. Apollos then wanted to cross over from Ephesus in the Roman province of Asia to Corinth in the Roman province of Achaia. Here again, he needed help. The church in Ephesus wrote a letter to the church in Corinth asking that he be welcomed. It was in effect a letter of recommendation. Having received so much help from the church in Ephesus, Apollos was a great help to the church of Corinth on his arrival. ‘He helped the believers considerably’. Apollos received from the gifts of other believers and gave to other believers from his own gifts. This is an image of the church in every generation. The Holy Spirit has gifted each one of us for the service of others in the church. We each have something to give to others and something to receive from others. Within the church, we are all interdependent. Even more fundamentally, we each have something to give to the Lord, present in others, and we have a great deal to receive from the Lord. It is because we have a great deal to receive from the Lord that Jesus in the gospel reading says, ‘Ask and you will receive’. If we are dependent on each other, we are even more dependent on the Lord.

And/Or

(x) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

At the end of today’s gospel reading, Jesus declares on the night of the last supper, ‘I came from the Father and have come into the world and now I leave the world to go to the Father’. Jesus is speaking of his own personal mission. He has come from God to reveal the light of God’s love to the world and he is about to leave the world to return to God the Father. There is a sense in which what Jesus says of himself is true of every human being, and, in particular, of his followers. We came from God the Father and have come into the world and we will leave the world to go to the Father. All human life is from God and returns to God. This is the essential truth about human life that Jesus has come to reveal to us. It is because we believe that all human life has come from God and returns to God that we consider all human life to be sacred from the moment of conception to the moment of death, and why we have a responsibility to protect and care for life at every moment of life’s journey. We are all on a journey from God towards God and Jesus as the Way shows us how to travel this journey. We are to love one another as he has loved us. In today’s first reading, we have a portrayal of such love in action. In the church of Ephesus, a married couple, Priscilla and Aquila, who were a significant presence in the early church, took an interest in a promising young Egyptian convert from Judaism, Apollos, and gave him further instruction in the Way. As a result of their support of him, Apollos, we are told, was able to help the church in Corinth considerably. We are all called to be a support to each other on our shared journey from God towards God.

And/Or

(xi) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus is very clear about his identity, where he has come from and where he is going. He declares, ‘I came from the Father and have come into the world and now I leave the world to go to the Father’. There is a wonderful sweep in that statement. Jesus speaks of a great sweeping journey from God back to God. There is a sense in which what Jesus says of himself can be said of every human person. We have all come from the Father and we are on a lifelong journey towards the Father. This is the essential truth about human life that Jesus has come to reveal to us. Jesus’ journey to the Father helps us to travel our journey to the Father well. He shows us the way to the Father. Indeed, he says of himself, ‘I am the way’. The way he travelled to the Father was the way of love. He gave himself in love to all, even to the point of giving his life for all. This is the way he sets before all of us, ‘love one another as I have loved’. Jesus not only shows us the way to the Father, but he also empowers us to take that way. He has sent us the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, to lead us to the complete truth, to lead us to God who is Truth. The Spirit leads us to God by empowering us to love one another as Jesus has loved us. We have an example of such love in action in the first reading, when a married couple, Priscilla and Aquila, gave further instruction about Jesus to a young convert, Apollo. They helped him to grow in his relationship with the Lord. Bringing each other closer to the Lord is one of the greatest loving services we can render each to each other. We do that by revealing the Lord’s love to one another. Helping to bring each other to the Lord is a privileged expression of that way of love which leads us to the Father.

And/Or

(xii) Saturday, Sixth Week of Easter

There is another striking portrayal in the first reading of how the members of the early church supported one another. We are told that Paul continued his journey through the Galatian countryside and then through Phrygia, encouraging all the followers. Then when a young Jewish Christian named Apollo arrived in the city of Ephesus from the city of Alexandria, the married couple, Aquila and Priscilla, gave him further instruction in the faith. This was the same couple that had offered Paul accommodation in Corinth. Then when Apollos wanted to cross over from the church in Ephesus to the church in Corinth, the members of the church in Ephesus wrote a letter to the church in Corinth asking believers there to welcome Apollos. Then when Apollos arrived in Corinth he helped the believers there considerably by God’s grace. In the space of a few verses we are a wonderful picture of the members of the early church supporting and encouraging one another in a whole variety of ways. In the gospel reading, Jesus encourages his disciples in the setting of the last supper. He says to them, ‘the Father himself loves you’. They, and we, are as much loved by God the Father as Jesus himself is. Jesus draws us into his own loving relationship with God. We can address God the Father in the same intimate way that Jesus does. We don’t need Jesus to go to God the Father on our behalf. As Jesus says, ‘when that day comes, you will ask in my name; and I do not say that I shall pray to the Father for you, because the Father himself loves you’. We have privileged access to God the Father and we don’t need Jesus to intercede for us. Jesus says a great deal to encourage all of us in that gospel reading. It is out of the strength we receive from the encouragement that Jesus gives us that we are enabled to encourage one another in the ways that the members of the early church are portrayed as doing in the first reading.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

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buggie-hagen · 2 months

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Sermon for James, Apostle (transferred) (7/21/24)

Primary Text | Psalm 7:1-10

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Dear People of God,

Many Lutheran Churches are named after St. James. It’d be good once in a while to reflect on who this James was. James was an apostle of Jesus Christ—someone who both knew Jesus personally and also was sent by him to proclaim his death and resurrection as the Son of God. Before James was given his task as an apostle, he was a fisherman by trade. He was not someone highly educated. He worked the docks and the boats. He was as blue collar as the next guy. In other words, a regular guy. It is our strange in our eyes, amazing even, that God sends regular, down-to-earth people to speak the gospel. Of the early believers, few in their numbers were of the upper ranks of society. The many and most were poor and outcast and downtrodden. Inasmuch as we can make logical sense of faith matters, it kind of makes sense that this would be the case. Having an abundance of possessions, having enormous wealth, and even being of good health are real obstacles for understanding the gospel. When you’re self-sufficient, when you can carry things by yourself, it’s difficult to understand why you need a savior. But when you know nothing, when you see your weakness, your frailty….then you can understand something of what it means to need help that comes from beyond yourself—the help only God can provide. Wealth and possessions, even our health, are all temporary things. They do not follow us to the grave. Today we might be self-sufficient and confident of our path, but there is a day in which God humbles each of us. He schools us in what really matters in life. Martin Luther sheds light on the problem of possessions and our own idea of strength—when he says, “Possessions belong in your hands, not in your heart.” When Jesus told the young rich man that he must sell all his possessions and give it to the poor, the man walked away sad. For he had many possessions. His things has left his hands and embedded themselves firmly into his heart—so that he refused to give them up. (pause)

The tradition of the church tells us that the 12 apostles Jesus sent out would be martyred. Martyr is a churchy word meaning “killed for sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ.” We take it for granted today, but the gospel is offensive. We might not immediately understand why preachers of the gospel are murdered for it. The gospel questions all of life…all the good things we presume about this world must be subjected to the gospel. We still find this offensive—especially because it challenges our own internal sense of how things should be. Now, of the twelve apostles, only James has his death recorded in the Holy Scriptures—which is why today we have the reading from the Book of Acts. King Herod was one such person who did not like the implications of the gospel. He laid violent hands upon some who belonged to the church. The apostle James was one such person who got in Herod’s way—and he was killed with a sword (12:1-2). Truly, the words Jesus spoke to James came true, where Jesus said, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized” (Mark 10:39)… James would indeed follow Jesus in suffering an innocent and murderous death.

The psalm assigned for today is Psalm 7. Psalms are mean to be prayed and sung, and James very well could have prayed this psalm. It is a plea for help. It begins, “O LORD my God, in you I take refuge; save me from all my pursuers, and deliver me, or they will tear out my throat like a lion (Ps. 7:1-2). That is indeed a bloody and violent way to die. Just as James died in a bloody and violent way when Herod ripped out his life with a sword. The psalm begs the LORD to let the evil of the wicked to come to an end. And in verse ten it says, “God is my shield.” With these words the Psalm writer, who today stands in the place of James, recognizes that in all the tumults of life there is no one who can save him except God. All earthly powers—human or otherwise, cannot rescue. James would die by the sword. Every breath we breathe is a gift of God—we must be helped by God at all times in order to be alive. In death it is all the more apparent that no human can help us. But hear the words: God is my shield. St. James would have concurred. It is, God is my shield. That is an important confession of faith—one that forms our own faith. In the Lutheran Reformation we saw it was necessary to reform the understanding of saints. Previously, people would treat the saints as magical tokens—you pray to this saint to find your lost key, you pray to that saint to help with the gout, you pray to that saint to help you have a bountiful harvest. In the Reformation, we did away with that sort of thinking. But we did not do away with saints. Luther and the Reformers still found value in them. The saints became important not for the help that they themselves could offer. They became important for the example of their faith—a quiet trust in God in spite of whatever circumstances they found themselves in. In this spirit we commemorate St. James. Not because he’s magical or somehow better than you and I are. It’s that his faith can encourage you and I in our faith. We remember him because of how God has worked through him. He died by King Herod’s sword. But let us consider what he died for! He died for the gospel of Jesus Christ. The gospel which is as one person put it: “God’s merciful, gracious, love-filled rule–which is his kingdom–[which] is everlasting. It will even outlast death” (Wengert). James was hacked to pieces. But the gospel was not. It lives because God lives. We know this because Jesus was raised from the dead. And one day James and all believers will be raised from the dead, put back together, and live forever in bliss and joy. That is also the gospel I proclaim to you this morning. Jesus Christ, crucified and risen. For your sake. Therefore, without condition, your sins are forgiven. You have eternal life living within you. This God we know in Jesus Christ is your shield. Whatever it is that you face, be it cancer, Alzheimer’s, death, hopelessness, and all the other terrible things that fill the world….you have a shield in Jesus Christ. In this shield you have God to protect you. In fact, you are “held by God.” (Wengert). And no one can pry you out of God’s hands.

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xaracosmia · 3 months

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ꕥ — WELCOME TO NEFE COSMIA, ROBIN.

ꕥ — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: giselle/elle

age: 27

pronouns: she/they

ooc contact: cinderdrift @ tumblr, @VA11HALL_A on twitter

other characters in xc: stelle (honkai: star rail), byleth (fire emblem three houses)

ꕥ — IC INFORMATION;

name: robin

age: 24

pronouns: she/her

series: honkai: star rail

canon point: patch 2.2

app triggers: animal injury/death, mass manipulation, gun violence/gun related injury, religious themes/imagery, parental death, body image/body shaming/general celebrity gossip culture

personality:

“Miss Robin, the readers are just dying to know – how would you describe yourself?”

The songstress pauses. It feels strange to try to hype herself up through words rather than actions, but she’s all too familiar with tabloids, press circuits, the quotes they run - and so she keeps it simple.

“I’d say I’m determined. My brother says I can be headstrong at times, and I can’t say I disagree. When I set my mind to something… I just go. I’ve been this way since I was a little girl.”

something your muse struggles with:

“What would you say you struggle with?”

Her lips purse together. She hates these kinds of questions. They never let her be vulnerable in the way she wants. They spend all of their time answering it for her, anyway. Comments about her weight, how she has a penchant for sweets; she can answer this the same way she always does, but… She reflects on another answer she gave to another interviewer before returning to Penacony. How freeing it was to speak the truth, her truth.

“My voice, strangely enough. The meaning of why I sing. Is it to cover up the hardship of the world, or is it to try to spread Harmony through the cosmos?”

your muse’s greatest strength:

“Your greatest strength?”

She thinks about all of the smiles of the children she’s taught to sing, in and out of her disguise. How each one of them fuels her, pushes her forward even when she feels like she might struggle to take another step forward.

“My hope. My hope that my song will help everyone join hand in hand, raising up one another through the power of music.”

history / background:

Anonymous post from a Robin fanblog, circa 2158 AE:

I hadn’t even realized it was Robin at first. The Robin, sitting right in front of me. I’d just been sitting, drinking a delicious glass of SoulGlad™ when a woman asked if she could share the table with me. I said yes, of course, since it’s the Land of Dreams, and I’d hate to be a nightmare and turn away someone from something so simple. In time, we got to talking, and I asked her where she was from.

She seemed… hesitant, at first. From behind the dark shade of her sunglasses, I could see the longing in her eyes. Initially, she seemed reticent to share this with a stranger, but I promised I would be happy to listen; I realized I greatly needed the companionship at the time, so it was only fair to listen intently. After some time, she told me that when she was young, a great disaster befell her homeland. How she remembers praying to any God that would listen through grief, lamentation, and prayer. How she remembers her mother singing to her and her brother, trying to help ease their fears however she could. But to her, she could never make out the song – something I could tell still bothers her to this day – and soon her mother vanished into the Memory Zone, never to be seen again.

Despite all of this, or perhaps in spite of all of it, she still had a smile on her face. Even as she recounted something that would cause me to break down in tears if it happened to me, she was still smiling. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.

She turned the conversation onto me, but I’m not really an interesting sort. It pittered out pretty quick, and I asked her what she does in the Land of Dreams; is she here to chase the sweet dream like I was? That smile still remained on her face, as she simply said: “I sing.”

I thought a lot about that as I heard her song – I think it was Hope Is the Thing With Feathers – ring out throughout Penacony. How I saw her dive after a figure without hesitation.

No matter what any tabloid rumor says, I will always think of that Robin - the one that helped break us free from the false dream, who chased after someone she clearly cares about without so much as a beat of hesitation.

powers / abilities:

singing: robin has both practiced the art of singing as well as studied the science of it all; she is a powerful singer who can connect the hearts of many. however, when the Harmony is in disarray, she often struggles to sing.

inherent abilities:

resonance: robin has the ability to broadcast her song to any lifeform, fan or not, through the power of Harmony.

singing: while robin’s singing is affected by the Harmony, she’s still a talented singer regardless.

items / weapons: N/A

starting ability: singing!

starting item: N/A

would you like this character to be housed upon arrival?: yes

extra:

she’s a lesbian your honor

her character onion goes Nuts it’s unreal

has canonically killed people. just a fun fact

discord id: featheredhope.gxc

passcode: hope is the thing with feathers is my favorite christian rock song btw

#xc application #mun: giselle #nefe cosmia

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vinceleemiller · 4 months

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Telling The Hard Truth | 1 Samuel 3:15-18

Are you willing to swallow the hard truth?

Welcome to the Daily Devo. I am Vince Miller.

This week, we are reading 1 Samuel 3. I've titled this chapter "Into Our Silence God Speaks." Today, I am reading verses 15-18, it states:

Samuel lay until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the Lord. And Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, “Samuel, my son.” And he said, “Here I am.” And Eli said, “What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.” So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him. And he said, “It is the Lord. Let him do what seems good to him.” — 1 Samuel 3:15-18

In the popular movie series The Matrix, the lead character, Neo, is given an option at the beginning of the film. He could take a red pill, enabling him to understand the truth outside the illusion of the Matrix. Or he could take a blue pill, allowing him to return to the illusion. Neo, of course, chooses the red pill, which opens his eyes to a discomforting truth. The life he had been living was nothing but an illusion. He was living a lie.

This illustration fits here because Samuel and Eli have to swallow some troubling truths.

But notice a few details about the two men. First, Samuel lay there all night, likely unable to sleep due to the troubling message about his mentor and feeling afraid to inform Eli about what God had said. Second, Eli calls Samuel as if he were a son, fully aware that God spoke to him but demanding to hear the truth about God's words.

In a way, they both have a red pill to swallow. Samuel has to speak a hard truth. Eli has to accept a hard truth.

I said this yesterday, but when God speaks, his truth is always a hard pill to swallow. God's truth declares that we are sinful, and then we have to accept the truth that we are sinful and need his salvation.

Some people don't want to believe this truth. They prefer the blue pill. They buy into the illusion that they are good enough and that this life is all about pleasure and personal gratification. But ignoring the hard truth does us no good if we are going to be confronted by it at some point. If we are going to face judgment by God at the end of life, isn't it pointless to ignore the truth?

Make today the day you make a change. Swallow the red pill, accept your sinfulness, and receive salvation and redemption before all you get is God's judgment.

If this is you today and you are ready to make a change, pray this prayer along with me:

God, I realize my life is ridden with sin. I accept this truth and need your salvation. I receive Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior and his life, death, and resurrection as my means of redemption. I am ready to accept your truth and live by it all my days. In Jesus' name, Amen.

If you prayed this today, reply and let me know. I would love to support you in some next steps.

#EmbraceTheRedPill, #CourageousFaith, #FacingHardTruths

Ask This:

Reflecting on Samuel's hesitation to share God's message with Eli, consider a time when you've struggled to speak the truth in love. What steps can you take to cultivate courage and honesty in your relationships, even when it's difficult?

In what areas of your life are you tempted to take the "blue pill" of denial rather than confronting uncomfortable truths? How can you actively choose the path of courageous faith, embracing God's truth, and pursuing transformation in those areas?

Do This:

Accept the truth from God, even when you don't like it.

Pray This:

Lord, grant me the courage to embrace the red pill of truth, confronting the uncomfortable realities in my life with faith and humility. May Your grace empower me to walk boldly in Your truth, trusting in Your redemption and transformation. Amen.

Play This:

Jesus, I Need You.

Check out this episode!

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joeysayskonnichiwa · 5 months

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May 06 - 浅草 (Asakusa)

For the first day, this was such an amazing experience! Essentially, we went to a huge temple in Tokyo and ended up drawing our fortune, casting away bad luck/evil spirits, praying, and more. I did my fortune and ended up getting a regular fortune, basically saying that with the help of God, I can achieve great things. However, things will not just come to me even if I work hard for it—without the push from God, none of my desires would come to fruition. I will say that the fortune did tell me things will be okay and things will come to pass, like the person I wait for will come or my experiences with employment are good. I also walked around and saw so many different types of shops! I think what surprised me the most was how cheap the food prices were compared to American food prices. I got a matcha boba drink for what would be the equivalent to less than $5 USD. If I got the same item in the United States, it would definitely be like $8. I think that today’s excursion was a totally wonderful introduction into everything, experiencing a lot of what Japan, specifically Tokyo, has to offer. I am definitely going back there at some point to finish my desired shopping!

Academic Reflection

As for the academic aspects that I learned, I will be talking about the Edo period specifically, the pre-modern era of Japan. We visited Fukagawa museum, which showed us what the surrounding area looked like back in the Edo period. After seeing how everything was structured, built, and densely populated, I can say it was an incredible experience! I had so much fun learning about different buildings and structures that provided good imagery of the experiences discussed. For example, I stopped by a building that was actually a portable restaurant, where a person would go around selling food (like noodles) by carrying the store around on their shoulder. This was such a creative way to make money—and it relates to the context of the readings provided about the Edo period, which I will discuss in a moment.

How I will relate the readings to the aspect mentioned above would be the social hierarchy of the Edo period, specifically how different groups of people operated in society. I presume the portable restaurant would have been classified as one of the townspeople, a merchant to be specific. The different hierarchies are interesting—for example, there are peasants, which accounted for a huge majority of the population according to the reading about the Edo period. They are technically ranked adjacent to the samurai, but could not use family names, bear swords, nor could they change their jobs as they were bound to whatever they did, which made them inferior. On top of that, they were differentiated from the “townspeople” part of the hierarchy which was apparently superior. However, the reading highlights that townspeople were less respected in theory, because the samurai valued peasantry more (this slightly confused me, but we got it)! Anyway, I think it was super interesting to learn about the different classes in the Edo period and see how all of that was displayed in the structures that we saw in the museum. They told so many stories without saying much or relying on the employees to give us context.

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elby-and-a-blog · 8 months

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Inconsistencies in the Bible: A Reflection

“Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” — Exodus 20:8 “One man esteemeth one day above another: another esteemeth every day alike. Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind.” — Romans 14:5

This is about the Law. Christianity argues that in Jesus' crucifixion, the law is fulfilled. Therefore, ceremonial laws are not required (but ok to practice). This passage in Romans is addressing Jewish and Non-Jewish Christians having their own superiority complexes. Paul is telling them to shut up about what days they consider special because the important thing is to focus on Jesus Christ's salvation, the common denominator between the two.

“… the earth abideth for ever.” — Ecclesiastes 1:4 “… the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up.” — 2Peter 3:10

“… I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved.” — Genesis 32:30 “No man hath seen God at any time…”– John 1:18

It is plainly given us to understand here, that while we are in this mortal state, we see God only through the medium of certain images, not, in the reality of His own nature. A soul influenced by the grace of the Spirit may see God through certain figures, but cannot penetrate into his absolute essence. And hence it is that Jacob, who testifies that he saw God, saw nothing butan Angel: and that Moses, who talked with God face to face, says, Show me Your way, that Imay know You: meaning that he ardently desired to see in the brightness of His own infinite Nature, Him Whom he had only as yet seen reflected in images. If however any, while inhabiting this corruptible flesh, can advance to such an immeasurable height of virtue, as to be able to discern by the contemplative vision, the eternal brightness of God, their case affects not what we say. For whoever sees wisdom, that is, God, is dead wholly to this life, being no longer occupied bythe love of it. Some hold that in the place of bliss, Godis visible in His brightness, but not in His nature. This is to indulge in over much subtlety. Forin that simple and unchangeable essence, no division can be made between the nature and the brightness. Some however there are who conceive that not even the Angels see God. (Gregory the Dialogist, c. 604)

“… Thou shalt not let any of thy seed pass through the fire to Molech, neither shalt thou profane the name of thy God…” — Leviticus 18:21 [In Judges, though, the tale of Jephthah, who led the Israelites against the Ammonoites, is being told. Being fearful of defeat, this good religious man sought to guarantee victory by getting god firmly on his side. So he prayed to god] “… If thou shalt without fail deliver the children of Ammon into mine hands, Then it shall be, that whatsoever cometh forth of the doors of my house to meet me, when I return in peace from the children of Ammon, shall surely be the LORD’s, and I will offer it up for a burnt offering” — Judges 11:30-31 [The terms were acceptable to god — remember, he is supposed to be omniscient and know the future — so he gave victory to Jephthah, and the first whatsoever that greeted him upon his glorious return was his daughter, as god surely knew would happen, if god is god. True to his vow, the general made a human sacrifice of his only child to god!] — Judges 11:29-34

Missed the point of the story; the act itself is wrong, and God allowed Jephthah in the same way you allow someone else to do something you know is very, very stupid. The point is to teach the Israelites not to make rash vows. This is echoed in the Sermon on the Mount. Also, Judges is all about people being not the best. This helps illustrate that. Note that it is never stated that God was happy with this arrangement.

“… with God all things are possible.” — Matthew 19:26 “…The LORD was with Judah; and he drave out the inhabitants of the mountain; but could not drive out the inhabitants of the valley, because they had chariots of iron.” — Judges 1:19

Ambiguity in the pronouns -- are you SURE the he in here refers to God, and not Judah?

“…thou shalt give life for life, Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot. burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe. ” — Exodus 21:23-25 “…ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” — Matthew 5:39

Jesus literally quotes Exodus a few verses before Matthew 5:39. What he's doing here is expanding the law; because we can't be sure if our enemy is truly as depraved as you think we are, and also we don't live in a theocracy anymore, so the law is expanded, so we don't falsely accuse others and acquit blood on OUR hands as well.

“This is my covenant, which ye shall keep, between me and you and thy seed after thee; Every man child among you shall be circumcised.” — Genesis 17:10 “…if ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit you nothing.” — Galatians 5:2

Okay, so this is an interesting point. Paul himself seems to oscillate between circumcision not mattering and circumcision being bad, but both are fueled by the same principle: Physical circumcision means nothing if your Heart (symbolic) isn't circumcised (given to God). In Galatians he condemns the practice, seemingly because people wee flaunting it as a sign of being more holy.

“Cursed be he that lieth with his sister, the daughter of his father, or the daughter of this mother…” — Deuteronomy 27:22 “And if a man shall take his sister, his father’s daughter, or his mother’s daughter…it is a wicked thing….” — Leviticus 20:17 [But what was god’s reaction to Abraham, who married his sister — his father’s daughter?] See Genesis 20:11-12 “And God said unto Abraham, As for Sara thy wife…I bless her, and give thee a son also of her…” — Genesis 17:15-16

Genesis… takes place before Leviticus and Deuteronomy. I feel like y'all have no time sense. Okay, jokes aside, this is a good question. If God were consistent, why does he ban incest in one text, and then just not care on the other? I've heard that it was because He knew that inbreeding would cause actual problems by the time of Exodus, but before then, people had to do it to populate, so therefore it didn't matter.

“A good man obtaineth favour of the LORD…” — Proverbs 12:2 Now consider the case of Job. After commissioning Satan to ruin Job financially and to slaughter his shepherds and children to win a petty bet with Satan. God asked Satan: “Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil? and still he holdeth fast his integrity, although thou movedst me against him, to destroy him without cause.” — Job 2:3

Actually, Job was literally a response against sayings like "your sin made you sick" and stuff like that. It's saying that you can't victim-blame people for their suffering. Does that make Proverbs wrong? No??? Favour can come in many forms, not just material wealth. Also, it is to note here that Satan may not even be the Devil as we know him; that concept only exists in Christianity. For all we now, Ha-Satan, the Accuser, is a prosecutor charged with obtaining evidence for his case against Job. If he were the devil… now that makes it spicy. I currently cannot respond to that. I concede.

“Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a merry heart…” — Ecclesiastes 9:7 “…they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not…” — 1 Corinthians 7:30

Okay, so these are different responses to the fact that this world is vanity. One response is to enjoy it while it lasts, trusting God. The other is to behave stoically, trusting God. I suppose the emphasis here is in trusting God, and not eating/not rejoicing.

“The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father…” — Ezekiel 18:20 “I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation…” — Exodus 20:5

Ooooh this is actually hard. Not to help that Ezekiel 18:20 is literally a response to "wait, doesn't the child bear the sin of their parents!?"

“Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God: for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man.” — James 1:13 “And it came to pass after these things, that God did tempt Abraham…” — Genesis 22:1

The word used for "tempt" in James 1 is "πειράζομαι". The word in Septuagint's Genesis 22 is "ἐπείραζεν"-- They're actually different forms of each other! So how do we explain James contradicting even the Greek version of Genesis? Well, Augustine of Hippo explains It as thus (emphasis mine): 'It is often asked how this can be true when James says in his letter that God does not tempt anyone (Jas. 1:13). The answer is that the language of Scripture often uses the word “tempt” with the meaning of “prove.” Instead, the temptation spoken of by James is understood only as referring to that by which one falls into the nets of sin. That is why the Apostle says: lest the tempter should tempt you (1 Thess. 3:5). For it is written elsewhere: The Lord your God tempts you to know if you love him (Deut. 13:3). Naturally, this expression says: to know, as if it were said: “to make you know”, because the power of love itself is hidden from man, if God does not make it known through a test of his. [Augustine of Hippo, Question on Genesis, PL 34, Question 57]'.

“Honor thy father and thy mother…”– Exodus 20:12 “If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. ” — Luke 14:26

This is emphasizing that you honor God, even when your family objects to your belief, as it is in a dialogue about not being afraid of persecutions. Jesus condemns his contemporaries for giving tithes instead of taking care of their parents as well, and Paul literally anathematizes those who abandon their family without cause.

“…he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. ” — Job 7:9 “…the hour is coming, in which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth….” — John 5:28-29

Job is expressing his despair, not theologizing important truths. Literally right above we know that Job was not treated well. So with that in mind, maybe him complaining about life is not out of the ordinary? On the other hand, Jesus is actually theologizing about the end of the world. So basically this is someone complaining that science is useless vs an entire essay about why science is useful both mentioned in a scientific journal.

“Verily I say unto you, There be some standing here, which shall not taste of death, till they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom. ” — Matthew 16:28 “Verily I say unto you, This generation shall not pass away, till all be fulfilled. Heaven and earth shall pass away: but my words shall not pass away. ” — Luke 21:32-33 “And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.” — Romans 13:11-12 “Be ye also patient; establish your hearts: for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh.” — James 5:8 “Little children, it is the last time: and as ye have heard that antichrist shall come, even now are there many antichrists; whereby we know that it is the last time.” — 1 John 2:18 “But the end of all things is at hand: be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer.” — 1 Peter 4:7 These words were written between 1800 and 1900 years ago and were meant to warn and prepare the first Christians for the immediate end of the world. Some words are those supposedly straight out of the mouth of the “Son of God.” The world did not end 1800 or 1900 years ago. All that generation passed away without any of the things foretold coming to pass. No amount of prayer brought it about; nor ever so much patience and belief and sober living. The world went on, as usual, indifferent to the spoutings of yet another batch of doomsday prophets with visions of messiahs dancing in their deluded brains. The world, by surviving, makes the above passages contradictions.

Hey. Pssst. 2 Peter 3 exists:

"This is now the second letter that I am writing to you, beloved. In both of them gI am stirring up your sincere mind by way of reminder, 2 that you should remember the predictions of ithe holy prophets and the commandment of the Lord and Savior through your apostles, 3 knowing this first of all, that scoffers will come in the last days with scoffing, following their own sinful desires. 4 They will say, “Where is the promise of his coming? For ever since the fathers fell asleep, all things are continuing as they were from the beginning of creation.” 5 For they deliberately overlook this fact, that the heavens existed long ago, and the earth nwas formed out of water and through water oby the word of God, 6 and that by means of these the world that then existed pwas deluged with water and perished. 7 But by the same word rthe heavens and earth that now exist are stored up for fire, being kept until the day of judgment and sdestruction of the ungodly. 8 But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. 9 The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise vas some count slowness, but is patient toward you,1 not wishing that any should perish, but ythat all should reach repentance. 10 But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and bthe heavenly bodies2 will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed. 11 Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness, 12 dwaiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set on fire and dissolved, and ethe heavenly bodies will melt as they burn! 13 But according to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells."

#atheism #christianity #bible #theology #I stayed up until 2 am to write this #because someone talked about inconsistencies in the bible #like come on #learn to interpret religious texts instead of being a literal fundamentalist #religion

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riszellira · 8 months

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Reflection: What the Lord Has Done

As a newly ordained priest, I was invited to administer the Sacrament of Anointing to an old sick man in a remote village. The man recovered. After a few months, he got sick again and I was called a second time. He did recover his strength once again and lived a few more years after the twice-repeated ordeal.

But I am not writing about this “miracle” of sorts. I am writing about what the grateful and happy man did. He told everyone what I had done. Every time I went back to their village chapel for Mass, he would tell people around him: “Siya ang nagpagaling sa akin!” (He was the one who healed me.)

Today’s story from Mark is nothing less than spectacular. It has all the trimmings of a potential TikTok or Facebook reel: the tombs, the man with an unclean spirit, shackles and chains, acts of self-harm, herd of swine, etc.

But the most spectacular for me is not an image but a sound bite. When asked for his name, he answered: “Legion is my name. There are many of us.”

Now, that was a mouthful. It was truth-telling at its finest—factual, verifiable, direct. But it was also disturbing. Truth can be unnerving, especially that part of being “many.” Truth to tell, I was glad there was that herd of swine.

But I digress. The old sick man who had turned healthy, turned sick, and turned healthy again was the topic I began with. I pick it up again even if this is not the least bit spectacular and therefore would not be worthy TikTok material. He told everybody what I had done, even if it was not really me, but the Lord working through me. He reminds me of what the Gospel passage says: “The man went off and began to proclaim [. . . ] what Jesus had done for him.”

I need to do a little soul-searching. What do I need to tell people about the Lord and His wonders for me?

~Fr. Chito Dimaranan, SDB

What has the Lord done in your life? Share it with someone.

Thank You, Lord, for doing Your wonders in my life. May I have the boldness to declare it to the world. Amen.

Prayer

… for a deep and profound respect for life, especially for the unborn.

… for the strength and healing of the sick.

… for the healing and peace of all families.

Finally, we pray for one another, for those who have asked our prayers and for those who need our prayers the most.

GOD BLESS!

#reflection #prayer

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wolint · 10 months

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FRESH MANNA

ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE

Psalms 107:1-3

Gratitude! Thankfulness! Is there a difference? yes!

I have learnt to adjust my mentality regarding the word thanks or thank you because of the overwhelming gratitude for the love, support, encouragement, and blessings I received daily.

The Bible talks a lot about having a thankful heart but sadly not many habitually do so, we are in a generation of deeply entitled mentality with little or no spirit of appreciation.

1 Thessalonians 5:18 tells us to "Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. No one has a right to expect anything from another, especially when they don’t appreciate anything done for them or accord others what they expect.

Thankfulness is the expression of gratitude while gratitude is a sense of good things received and the celebration of them.

If we can’t appreciate the people God physically uses to bless us and if it’s too much to be grateful to a human being, how would we then appreciate and thank God, whom we can’t see for all He’s done and does?

The Lord says the one who shows gratitude glorifies Him in Psalm 50:23. How do we express gratitude?

Some people only appreciate big gestures, extravagant sentiments, and expensive gifts. How about saying thank you to the colleague who made your job a little easier or quicker? Do you say thank you to the store cashier for doing a good job of serving you? even to your children and spouse for making your life a little bit livelier?

Give thanks instructs Psalm 136:1, there should be a difference and a high standard of gratitude from believers, and not just mere lip services for God.

It is with a joyful heart we give thanks to God for the blessings of life. Scriptures repeatedly call us to give thanks and glory to Almighty God and make a joyful noise to the Lord all the earth! Says Psalm 100:1-2. That is intentionally being thankful.

An attitude of gratitude is a constantly thankful heart!

Thanks! A very important and much-needed word but so often an inadequate word. A six-letter word that is insufficient to express gratitude for the actions.

My gratitude gives me a new understanding of Paul’s action in Ephesians 1:16. When you are bursting with gratitude and have no way of expressing it to your satisfaction, you find yourself praying for those God uses in your life.

Why was Jesus so interested in the one returning leper in Luke 17:15-17? After all, one came back! Jesus, through this, made us aware of how important gratitude is to him.

Gratitude is an attitude!

Thanksgiving is the Action of that attitude.

Gratitude is the divine gracious influence upon the heart and its reflection in life.

Are you a grateful person? Do you have an attitude of gratitude?

This was what the one leper had, which is why he was made whole. Gratitude!

Our psalm is a call to give thanks to God and the repeated theme of His mercy endures forever tells us plainly that it is the Lord’s mercy speaking in, for and over us.

I have said so many thank you that I’ve been told to stop but I can’t stop, just as I can’t stop asking the Lord to bless certain people and keep thanking Him for their lives.

Let’s all emulate Paul, who was heavily persecuted, yet he wrote, “Thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him” in 2 Corinthians 2:14.

Gratitude is key; it’s whatever you want it to be and whatever the recipient wants it to be. The more you show gratitude, the more Father opens doors and blesses you, according to Acts 24:3. Be grateful and not entitled! Always say thank you!

PRAYER: Thank you Lord for everything, especially for the cross and for Jesus, for life, loved ones and Your word. I am grateful Lord in Jesus’s name.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT. PRAYER MIN.

#spotify #devotional #christianpost #women's ministry #biblestudy #biblestudy christianpost women's ministry #biblestudy christianpost 'women's ministry #conference #family #prayer meeting

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jdgo51 · 1 year

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Husband

Today's inspiration comes from:

Praying the Names of God for 52 Weeks

by Ann Spangler

ISH ִאישַׁ

Ish is the Hebrew word for “husband” in Hosea 2:2, 16. The word ba’al in the Hebrew Scriptures can also be translated “husband” (as well as “lord,” “owner,” or “master”), though this term usually refers to the Canaanite fertility god Baal (ba’al does occur in Hosea 2:16, “master”). Remarkably, in Isaiah and Jeremiah, this word is also used to describe God as the husband of His people, Israel. Though we never pray to ba’al, we do pray to the God who is the ideal husband, the one who provides for and protects His people and who refuses to divorce us no matter how unfaithful we may be. In the New Testament Jesus is presented as the bridegroom and the church as his bride.

KEY SCRIPTURE

“On that day she will call me her Ish,” declares Yahweh.

“She will no longer call me her master.

— Hosea 2:16

GOD REVEALS HIS NAME IN SCRIPTURE

HOSEA 1; 2:5–7, 16, 19–20; 3:1

Open your personal Bible translation and read the same passage. Make note where God calls Himself ISH.

2When Yahweh first spoke to Hosea, Yahweh told him, “Marry a prostitute, and have children with that prostitute. The people in this land have acted like prostitutes and abandoned Yahweh.”

She said, ‘I’ll chase after my lovers. They will give me food and water, wool and linen, olive oil and wine.’

“That is why I will block her way with thornbushes and build a wall so that she can’t get through.

She will run after her lovers, but she won’t catch them. She will search for them, but she won’t find them. Then she will say, ‘I’ll go back to my first husband.

Things were better for me than they are now.’

“On that day she will call me her Ish,” declares Yahweh. “She will no longer call me her master.

“Israel, I will make you my wife forever. I will be honest and faithful to you. I will show you my love and compassion.

20I will be true to you, my wife. Then you will know Yahweh.”

Then Yahweh told me, “Love your wife again, even though she is loved by others and has committed adultery. Love her as I, Yahweh, love the Israelites, even though they have turned to other gods.

Understanding the Name

God’s passionate love for Israel is reflected in the Hebrew word Ish (EESH), meaning “husband.” When it is applied to God in the Hebrew Scriptures, it symbolizes the ideal relationship between God and Israel. God is the perfect husband — loving, forgiving, and faithful, providing for and protecting His people. This metaphor of monogamous marriage between God and His people is strengthened in the New Testament, which reveals Jesus as the loving, sacrificial bridegroom of the church. Our destiny, our greatest purpose as God’s people, is to become His bride.

God’s passionate love for Israel is reflected in the Hebrew word Ish (EESH), meaning “husband.”

Connecting to the Name

1. Why would God tell Hosea to marry a woman who would break his heart and make a fool of him?

2. Put yourself in Hosea’s place and imagine what you would feel like if your spouse were a prostitute or a philanderer. Now think about how God feels when His people stray from Him. How do you think God responds to unfaithfulness?

3. What kind of love is expressed in these verses?

4. What encouragement for your own life can you take from the story of Hosea and Gomer?

5. What encouragement can you take for the church?

6. Have you settled for a relationship that keeps God at arm’s length? In what ways could you lower your guard and start responding to Him, believing that He is your ideal husband?

Praying A PASSAGE with God’s Name

Praise God because He has revealed Himself as a husband of unlimited compassion. Focus on the name Ish, Husband, as you read Isaiah 54:5–7.

Your husband is your maker...

“Yahweh has called you as if you were a wife who was abandoned and in grief, a wife who married young and was rejected,” says your Elohim. “I abandoned you for one brief moment,

but I will bring you back with unlimited compassion.

PRAYING THE NAME ISH FOR MYSELF

Look up and read: Hosea 2:16

Warnings against idol worship can be found throughout Scripture. It’s easy to think of idols as foreign objects, and ones that could be easily recognized. But, just by looking at the history of the Israelites, it seems like idols have always been insidious in nature, ready to slip into our lives without our notice. Humble yourself before God, your Ish, and ask Him to show you if there are any idols present in your life.

Promises from Ish

“Israel, I will make you my wife forever. I will be honest and faithful to you. I will show you My love and compassion.

— Hosea 2:19

Then I saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of Heaven, dressed like a bride ready for her husband.

— Revelation 21:2

FOR DEEPER STUDY

Read the following passages, considering the name ISH and how its meaning relates to the context of the passage.

Song of Songs 8:6–7

Isaiah 62:4–5

Jeremiah 3:14, 20

Ephesians 5:25–30

Excerpted with permission from Praying the Names of God for 52 Weeks by Ann Spangler, copyright Ann Spangler.

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quiannesblog · 1 year

Text

REFLECTION 001

Not Everybody Believes In A God: A Reflection Paper on My Experiences Growing Up With God and Religion

As the saying goes, “Every man’s heart one day beats its final beat. Their lungs breathe their final breath. And if what that man did in his life makes the blood pulse through the body of others and makes them bleed deeper in something that’s larger than life, then their essence, their spirit, will be immortalized by the storytellers.”

Theology was a subject that I have been avoiding to learn about ever since I was a kid.

Do not get me wrong. I love learning but when it comes to God and religious beliefs, it was a topic I refused to acknowledge as much as I could. I know of its impact and how it has affected history, especially the trajectory of human lives and if given a chance, I’d want to be open-minded about it, even if it means abandoning my own atheistic beliefs.

I grew up in a typical, religious Filipino family. Full of hypocrites and empty-hearted worshippers, who only kneel before God in desperate times and never on times they should thank Him. They used His name and the “supposed” teaching at church to scare me and force me in a box of fear and paranoia, without truly knowing God properly and the church itself. I used to be the kid who prays to God and Jesus; before I eat a meal served at our dining table, at school where I was most of the times, and before I go to sleep where I dreamed peacefully.

You could say that it was inflicted on me, because our house used to have this display dedicated to God and Jesus, filled with His and Their framed pictures, along with religious figures— such as angels, the apostles, and so on and so forth. But I’ve never seen any of my family members who actually prays and give an ounce of their attention at the altar built in at the corner of the wall, always going on their way and ignoring it. It was indeed just a display, even the thick-paged bible that was on our house has collected the dust, no mark of fingerprints were left on it to show that someone has opened and read it. My family loves to pretend that they cared about God, but I grew up hearing foul and hateful words coming out of their mouths, and how they cursed other people to damnation.

I was mostly ignored when I was a kid. They fed me, they bought me clothes to wear, I slept in a comfortable bed, and there was a roof over my head, but that doesn’t mean I grew up in a loving, caring home. I do not have vivid memories of the happiest moments of my life, but I do remember hiding behind the curtains and watching my grandparents fight all the time; sometimes, it’s about money, or my grandmother’s constant accusation of my grandfather cheating on her, or how they’re having a hard time raising me while my mother is still finishing her college degree. I was the result of teenage pregnancy and growing up was not pleasant for me, as my family would constantly berate me just for my mere existence and how they’d shamed my mother for getting pregnant early.

They’d tell me that I was a sinner and God could never love me, which resulted to me being scared all the time that I’ll just die because my family told me God eliminates sin and punishes the sinners. And my father? Oh, he left after they got married and started a whole new family; which is funny as I heard my grandparents say that he was a faithful and family-oriented man and yet he can’t take up the responsibility to be a proper husband to my mother and father to me. I was always alone and left at the house. I didn’t have anyone to play with as a kid. I had toys, yes, but I missed the feeling of what it’s like to have a bond and in my mind, I made up different imaginary friends. It was a lonely childhood and I always wondered what ever I did in my past life to deserve this (if ever that exists), because why was I allowed to have a life like mine?

I prayed to God. I prayed to Jesus. I prayed to anybody who would hear my prayers. I was so tired of hearing my family fight all the time and why it became the norm in our lives. None of my prayers were answered. It only got worse over the years and it made me often think to myself up until now, that if God truly exists why was my life like that? Am I not His child to be shun in a life that was miserable and lonely?

At school, I became envious of my classmates because I see their family picking them up after schools with smiles on their faces while the person always waiting for me by the gates was my yaya— strangers that have come and go in my life, who replaced the bond and comfort I seek out badly from my family that they cannot give. I saw how supportive my classmates’ parents were and how they praised them even if they did not well in school, so as long as they’re learning. But for me? It was a nightmare to step foot at our house the moment I have failed a school work.

I remember how I’ll sit at the dining table back at home with my grandparents and mother looking at me with disappointed expressions on their faces, my failed school works sprawled on the table instead of our dinner for the night. My mother would cradle my face gently, but her eyes tell a different story— she was mad and she saw me as a failure. She’d ask me, “Why didn’t you do better?” or “Do you think I’m happy with a score like this?” and I’d shook my head with tears in my eyes, my heart heavy knowing that she can’t be proud of me. My grandparents would stay quiet and compare me to other children, say why am I not like my classmate, or Aling Marie’s son, and so on and so forth. And all of the these things they’d said would fill my mind and I’ll just close my eyes to try and forget about it. During those nights, my sleeps were restless and I don’t pray because I feel like I can’t seek comfort from God. And even on the days I succeed, where I present A+ papers to them, they don’t feel proud of me. They don’t praise me and all I get is a nod and an empty acknowledgment, and at those moments, I feel alone, that not even praying to God can help me feel better.

Continue Reading...?

#reflection paper 1

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

℗ me and my husband

atsumu x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 3.2k (holy shit)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, v v soft domestic, marriage :00, smut!! (is marked off!!), soft dom!tsumu, hair pulling (giving), unprotected sex, slight praise kink, pretty vanilla ngl

an. can be read as a one shot but u might be confused lmfao also this took SO LONG OMFG also also heavily unedited, take things w a grain of salt lmfao anyways don’t forget to feed me ahaha m rlly proud of this so i hope y’all like it <33

it was moving day and atsumu was about to lose his mind.

today was the official day of the hyper house disbandment and while most of the members were still figuring out new living arrangements and thus remaining past the deadline, you were one of the few trying to get out as soon as possible.

makki and mattsun were so excited to have you move in, they showed up early that morning to help you pack. now, it was around 1p and it was almost time for you to go. you still had a few more boxes to go but things were speeding right along.

normally, atsumu would be right by your best friends helping you out but he was currently in the middle of a breakdown.

you were leaving. leaving. he had no idea when he’d see you again (even though you promised to meet up weekly to catch up), if he would ever see you again. for all he knew, makki and mattsun would just hide you away forever, never to be seen again.

okay, so he was panicking.

it was just... atsumu was in love with you. he’d known for a while (way longer than he’d like to admit) and he selfishly thought he’d have more time with you so that he could work up the courage to confess. but now? you were like three boxes away from a distance that he didn’t know if he or your relationship could recover from.

it wasn’t that he was bad at long distance but the tragic events that the house brought, brought the two of you closer together and he didn’t want to lose that.

atsumu let out a groan and dropped his head against the wall, his mind running with scenario after scenario, all ending in failure and utter embarrassment.

“hey, you okay?” you called out, a large box cradled delicately in your arms. as atsumu turned from the plaster in front of him, he allowed himself a moment to take you in.

you were wearing short athletic shorts, worn converses, and his t shirt. a thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, the lights above reflecting off of it, giving you a warm glow.

of course you looked hot moving boxes.

you called his name again in concern and he immediately felt his heart clench in guilt. you’d already been through so so much and here he was fantasizing about you instead of being there for you like a good friend would.

atsumu let out a sigh and shot you a wide, albeit empty, smile before walking over to you and taking the box out of your hands. the furrow in your brows told him you saw through his expression but he ignored it and made a show of lifting your box above his head and carrying it to mattsun’s car.

“see, what would ya do without these guns angel?” he joked, placing the cardboard into the trunk. you rolled your eyes and poked him in the side playfully. “die, probably.”

the butterflies in his stomach kicked up at the underlying sincerity in your voice but he tried his best to overlook it. it was much harder than it seemed, especially when you looked at him with such fondness in your gaze that made him want to kiss you senseless.

gulping hard, he quickly turned away from you, busying himself with fitting your things in the truck like a game of tetris.

“atsumu.” your voice was firm but pleading and he didn’t dare look at you for fear of spilling everything right then and there. “wow, ya sure got a lot of stuff, huh? wonder how much of this was bought with ushijima’s money,” he started to ramble but thankfully he was interrupted by makki whooping as he walked out of the house.

“last box bitches!” you shot atsumu one final worried look before running over to makki and mattsun, yelling the whole way there.

atsumu was grateful your back was to him because he couldn’t hide the affectionate look that overtook his face, a soft smile spreading across his lips as he watched you hip bump your friends while cackling wildly.

god, he was so in love with you.

what was he going to do when you moved out and away? what if you found someone, someone how loved you as much as he did (not possible)? he would wish for your happiness even at the expense of his own but... what if you both could be happy?

caught up in his thoughts, atsumu didn’t register you saying your goodbyes to the remaining members until you were finally in front of him.

“i’m gonna miss living with you tsum.” you unceremoniously launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. his heart leapt violently at the contact and he prayed to every deity above that you didn’t hear it underneath your head.

he barely managed to hug you back before you pulled away, your eyes slightly teary and red. “um, well, makki and mattsun are waiting for me so uh,” you trailed off looking back at the van and your friends who were so (im)patiently waiting for you to join them.

atsumu’s breath quickened as you scooted a bit away from him, truly getting ready to leave. no, no, it couldn’t end like this, awkward and distant. no, he wasn’t going to let it.

“atsumu?” you asked worriedly, reaching out a hand to touch him when he didn’t respond but he couldn’t hear you. he felt hot all over, like he was going to explode or magically combust if he didn’t get the words out into the air.

“tsum, are you oka-“ “i’m in love with ya.”

you paused, shock written clearly all over your face. the fear of rejection slammed into atsumu like a brick, the feeling settling in the pit of his stomach like a rock but he still didn’t stop.

“i’m in love with ya and i have been for forever. yn, yer beautiful but yer face and body aren’t even the best part of ya, even though they’re pretty damn great. yer just-“

“tsum-“

“-yer so kind, especially when ya don’t need ta be. yer badass but ya care fer others so deeply and ya make me wanna be a better person. ya make me a better person. i know ya-“

“tsumu please-“

“-ya probably don’t feel the same and that’s alright but i needed ta tell ya, before ya leave and fall in love with some other scrub, just in case we can be happy together and-“

all of a sudden, your hands were buried in his shirt and you were pulling him close to meet your lips with his, your mouths meshing together in a soft and passionate kiss.

bliss. atsumu was in sheer bliss. your lips were as soft as he thought they would be as they moved with his, his hands coming up to grip your waist and pull you even closer to him.

sooner than he would have liked, his lungs started burning for air so he pulled back but not very far, instead resting his forehead against yours.

“i was trying to tell you i liked you too, idiot,” you muttered, your eyes still closed as you spoke. he chuckled, a wide grin overtaking his entire face as he really took in what you were saying.

you liked him back. you liked him. holy shit.

but instead of saying any of that, he decided to tease you a bit. “just like? if i recall, i just confessed my undying love for ya.”

you pulled back with a faux scoff, hitting him in the arm with a huff. “shut up you ass. of course i love you too.” you couldn’t keep your real smile off your cheeks while you confessed, your soft expression bringing another wave of desire over atsumu’s body.

“can, can i take ya inside angel?” he allowed his true intentions to be heard in his words, your eyes widening when you figured out what he meant. you nodded vigorously before shooting a look to makki and mattsun. mattsun just waved you off and got into his truck while makki yelled, “get that dick!”

you heated up horribly, grabbing atsumu’s hand and pulling him towards the house and to his room. he allowed himself to be dragged along, sending winks to the other boys as he went until the two of you were standing right in front of his door.

“i love ya,” he whispered, lifting your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss there. you grinned. “love you too tsum.”

that must have been the final straw because the minute the words left your mouth, he was on you.

••• smut begin•••

pressing you up against the door, atsumu ravaged your mouth, his tongue tangling with yours as he walked you backwards into his room, laying you down on the bed so that he was hovering over you, his hips pressing hard against yours.

instinctively, you ground up into him, rewarding you with a loud groan and a gasp of your name. “fuck angel, yer killing me here,” he laughed breathlessly, rolling his hardness against your thigh. you let out a breathy moan and tangled your hands in his hair to bring him back down to your lips.

as you continued to kiss him, his hands scrambled at your waist, pushing his hands under it to grope at your chest. you giggled at the cold of his fingers but he didn’t pay it any mind, moving down from your mouth to your neck, sucking dark marks into the sensitive skin there.

“ah, shit tsumu,” you tilted your head to the side to give him more access, just as he reached under your bra to tease your nipples. a startled gasp left you, your back arching into his careful touch. “that feel good angel?” atsumu asked, voice low and gravelly as he pinched the delicate bud, drawing another noise from your throat.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. you bit your bottom lip while he pulled your shirt and bra off, tossing them somewhere in the room. as he scanned your half naked body, he noticed you quieting yourself and he lightly shook his head. his thumb found its way to your lip, carefully pulling it from between your teeth.

“wanna hear ya angel, let me hear yer pretty noises, yeah?” without letting you respond, atsumu dove back into your chest, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth while toying with the other, a sigh of his name sending a bolt of arousal straight to his loins.

he grinded against you absentmindedly, losing himself in you, eventually switching sides to give the same treatment to your neglected bud.

while atsumu seemed to be having the time of his life attached to your tit, you were getting impatient, your arousal completely soaking through your underwear. you needed more.

tangling your fingers in his blond locks, you attempted to tug him away from your chest but his reaction was unlike anything you could’ve expected. “aahh!” he let out a strangled whine, his hips bucking against your side.

“please, tsumu, need more,” you breathed, his needy reaction not lost on you as pulled his hair a bit harder. you were not disappointed as his eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a silent moan before dropping his head to your shoulder.

“fuck, fuck, okay angel, i got ya, i got ya.” atsumu swiftly disposed of both yours and his bottoms and underwear before lifting your leg and positioning himself at your entrance.

“tell me if i hurt ya, alright? i love ya,” he smiled down on you, your heart swelling two times at his carefulness. “i love you too,” you replied, watching as his pupils grew and a low groan broke free from his chest.

“oh angel, ‘m gonna ruin ya.” that was the last thing he said before he pushed into you, both of you letting out whimpers as he stretched you open, the blunt head of his cock just a few centimeters shy of your cervix.

your back arched in pleasure, both of your hands scrambling until they found purchase on his back, your nails digging in just when he started to thrust shallowly into you.

“f-fuck, how’re ya s-so fuckin’ tight?” atsumu growled through gritted teeth, every word punctuated with a roll of his hips. you couldn’t respond as you were too overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock rubbing against your g-spot with every slow movement.

speaking of slow, he was moving way too leisurely for your tastes. you needed him to move faster and you knew exactly how to do it.

sliding your hand up from his back, you grabbed a good chunk of hair from the back of his head and pulled. his reaction was immediate and oh-so gratifying.

an honest to god whimper poured from his lips and he instantly thrusted all the way into you, his length driving into your g-spot perfectly. you both let out twin moans as he started rocking into consistently, every movement bringing you closer and closer to your peak.

“i love ya, i love ya so fuckin’ much, angel—shit—yer so amazing, i love ya,” atsumu rambled while pounding into you, deep curses and whines of your name interspersed with his declarations of love. if you could speak, you would reciprocate but you were too busy holding on for dear life as he fucked you into oblivion.

desperate for some kind of anchor to reality, you grasped onto his locks again, gripping tightly as drawn-out cries of his name slipped from your open lips. you were close, so close and he knew it too.

“feel ya clenchin’ around me like a good girl, ya gonna cum fer me? gonna cum fer me angel?” atsumu’s hand snaked down between your bodies to rub fast circles on your clit, a shaky sob finding its way out into the open air.

“oh shit, yeah, ‘m g-gonna cum for you tsum, ‘s all for you,” you moaned, clamping down on him sporadically as you started to cum, your vision whiting out and your thighs trembling while you gushed around him.

your mind was floating off when you felt him cum with a shout, his warmth flooding you and spilling out as he collapsed onto your chest.

••• smut over •••

the two of you lied there for a while, attempting to regain your brain and feeling in your legs. you vaguely made note of the wet rag cleaning between your thighs and the following weight falling down beside you but it was only after a few more minutes that you really came back to yourself, rolling over to lay on atsumu’s bare chest.

“holy shit, tsumu,” you said in awe, your boyfriend (!!) laughing at your reaction. “i’m just that good angel, what can i say?”

you groaned and hit him in the chest but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face if you tried. “you are such a menace!”

“only fittin’ that i picked a gremlin ta be with then,” atsumu teased while playing with a piece of your hair. mock offense filled your chest as you sat up, fixing him with your ‘angriest’ glare.

“is that the kind of language you’ll be using in your vows, mister?” you were only joking but when atsumu’s eyes widened and a blush spread across his cheeks, you realized your mistake.

you opened your mouth to apologize or to make some kind of excuse but he beat you to the punch. “ya wanna marry me angel?” he asked, looking so vulnerable with hope shining in his brown irises. you couldn’t bear to lie.

“of course tsum, you’re it for me,” you reached out a hand to caress his cheek and he leaned into it, his own coming up to cup yours and hold it against his face.

“good.” and that was the end of that, that evening’s... extraneous activities having thoroughly tired to the point that you fell completely asleep with your face against one of his pecs.

if you had stayed awake a little longer, you would’ve seen atsumu pull out his phone and start a new note titled, “my angel.”

if i just said i loved you, it would be an understatement. it would be like saying the sun’s surface is just a bit warm or that the arctic is just a little chilly. it would be an injustice to you and to how i truly feel about you. love—

“-is a word that is much too soft and used far too often ta ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that i have in my heart for ya angel. ya acknowledge my strengths and ya accept my faults. ya make me wanna be a better person every day. so, today i vow ta laugh with ya and comfort ya during times of joy and times of sorrow. i promise ta always pursue ya, ta fight for ya, and love ya unconditionally and wholeheartedly for the rest of my life. ya are my best friend and i’m the luckiest person on earth ta call ya mine- wait are ya crying?"

the audience burst into laughter as you frantically tried to wipe away your tears, punching atsumu softly on the arm. “of course i am, you ass.”

the officiant cleared his throat, grabbing both of your attentions. “it is the bride’s turn to give her vows. if you may?”

you nodded and atsumu already felt like crying. again. he’d cried that morning while getting dressed and then again when you walked down the aisle in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. now, as he watched you pull a folded piece of paper out of your bra, he knew he’d made the right decision in confessing to you, all those years ago.

he also knew he was definitely going to cry again.

“atsumu, falling for you wasn’t falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing that you’re home. today, i want to make you promises that i will always keep. i promise to never stop holding your hand or accepting your kisses. i promise to not hit you too hard when you insult me or call me a gremlin. i promise to share my food with you, to never go to bed angry, and to try and understand your obsession with professional men’s volleyball. i promise to love, respect, protect and trust you, and give you the best of myself, for i know that together we will build a life far better than either of us could imagine alone. i choose you. i’ll choose you over and over and over, without pause, without doubt, i’ll keep choosing you.

i used to never truly enjoy moments because i was always waiting for what's next. the next thing horrible thing to happen. now that i have you, i enjoy the moment. every moment.

today seems like it's the start of a new journey, but i already belong to you. falling for you wasn't falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing you're home. i love you.”

and at least in this lifetime

we’re sticking together

me and my husband

we’re sticking together

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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your-highnessmarvel · 3 years

Text

From Bleak to Bright

Requested by Anonymous: the world is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. you’re Bruce’s little sister. you want to go with him during Avengers 2012 because you’re the only one that “can calm the beast” if ever he pops out. so you’re just chilling with the avengers in the flying thing. then they bring Loki in. the world goes to bright, bright colors. you don’t want it to be him. but it is. no one knows. no one knows but him.

AN: IM BACK. YES. AFTER LIKE A WHOLE YEAR. the flying thingy. me too i had to google it, ahaha

Warnings: angst, language

*gif not mine

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MASTERLIST

You spun on the stool, facing your brother with a sigh. He scratched the back of his head, the glow from Loki’s scepter reflecting on his specs in a grey light.

“One more hour?” he asked with a wince.

You rolled your eyes. “Okay,” you groaned. “But then we’re off to bed. And I’m putting Celine Dion on the stereo to sleep.”

“Not her again,” he groaned.

You raised a finger, brows crawling up your forehead. “You made me come here on this ridiculous flying tank with the God damned Avengers, of all people, and we’ve been here for four days listening to sounds of water dripping and Cap’s fifties music.”

Bruce sighed, leaning his forehead into his palm. “Fine.” His hands went up in mock surrender. You could see the tension in his shoulders, straining against the material of his chemise.

Not that you could see the color of it. You imagined it was blue. Bruce liked blue. Bruce knew colors. Of course he did. He’d met his soulmate such a long time ago, you’d forgotten she even existed.

But not you. You’d gone through life in the dreary black and white of a world without a soulmate. But now you were curious. You knew the colors by name, but not sight. What does green even look like? Bruce had told you trees and grass were green. Some people’s eyes. Ever since he’d told you that, green became your favorite. Maybe blue could beat it, since Tony Stark had told you the sky was all shades of blue combined.

An alarmed blared overhead, and your first instinct was to run to your brother’s side. Bruce’s eyes met yours, his mouth tugging up at the corners.

He’s fine.

Your hand found the curve of his forearm, still. No one really knew what actually triggered the Hulk, and you, being his little sister, were the only human alive able to tame the beast.

You heard footsteps, many, clambering loudly down the hall. The door to Bruce’s workspace was wide open, and you heard the telltale sound of security making their way down the hall. You frowned. What could they be doing so late at night, and so many all together?

At first, from the windows in the workspace, you only saw the black suits of the security patrol, their reflective masks bright in the hall. They walked in patterned, simultaneous movements, guns held firm in their grasps.

You saw the top of a really - no, seriously, really! - tall head, black hair. White skin. And as the small platoon of security walked passed your door, you saw the man walking in their midst, tied in shackles.

He turned his head, buzzing in your mind, something deep in your chest tightening. And then you saw the color of his eyes.

You couldn’t tell at first. Because the world became so vivid, so bright. He went from black and white to stark and bright and whole before your eyes, stealing the breath from your lungs.

A ringing started in your ears, a burning in your throat. You couldn’t help but stare, watching his eyes drink you in as well, watching his own world turn from ash to bright as the sun.

No, you thought. No. Not him.

Anyone but him.

And just before he rounded the corner, his lips stretched into a smirk.

A cold hand on your arm brought you back. As if slamming back into your body.

“You okay?” Bruce asked.

You gulped. Nodded. Felt your cheeks blooming with heat. “Yeah, of course.”

You could see the colors on your brother, now. Albeit, not being able to tell which specific color it was. And yet he was beautiful. Later, after hours of searching online for colors, you’d be able to tell his hair was black, his eyes a warmest brown, his skin a shade of white a few degrees darker than yours.

But now, it took everything in you not to scream.

You could finally see the entire world for what it truly was and all because of a demi-God wrought with darkness.

No. It couldn’t be him.

You separated from your brother, your mouth dry, feeling his eyes on you. He could always tell when you were troubled. But there was just no way, no freaking way, you’d tell him that you’d just met your soulmate. If he knew who it was... No. You wouldn’t tell him. You wouldn’t tell anyone.

You went to the computer and turned the screen away from Bruce, clearing your throat. Bruce went back to his own computer.

You didn’t even search up colors yet. You searched up the possibility of soulmates being wrong for each other. The computer spat out articles and data from hundreds of years, all proving that the soulmate trigger worked. That the signs of color all proved one had met the person right for them.

You sighed, dropping your head in your hands.

You rubbed at your eyes, steeling yourself for what you were about to ask.

“Bruce?”

“Hmm?”

“Did they just bring in Loki?”

His head raised from his computer. “Yeah.” He frowned. “I’m going to go ask why. Does it disturb you that he’s here?”

You scratched your jaw. “No, not at all,” you said quickly, too quickly. You cringed internally, hoping your face didn’t mimic the shame you felt. “Just - why?”

“I’ll go ask,” Bruce said. If he had any inkling as to why you were suddenly intrigued in God of mischief, he didn’t give any clue.

He left. You took a second to steady yourself. You counted your fingers. Felt the shape of your face.

Then you took a breath in and all but flew out the door.

You followed the maze that was the inner organs of the Helicarrier until you reached the “jail”, which was, upon inquiry, meant to hold your brother if ever you weren’t there to calm him in time.

You watched from outside the doors as Fury talked to Loki. You couldn’t help the fire in your chest as you watched. Loki seemed trapped, looking discreetly around the room, around his glass cage, his green eyes keen on any weakness.

You felt the sweat collecting in the palm of your hands. You waited patiently, praying whatever Bruce was up to would keep him long enough that he wouldn’t come looking for you. You heard broken pieces of the conversation on the other side of the steel enforced doors, but Loki’s voice was even, steady, unafraid.

He knew he wouldn’t be beat here.

You counted to one hundred the moment Fury walked out. Your heart beat vehemently between your ribs, battering your bones. Your knees were putty when you finally, slowly, opened the doors.

The air ruffled your hair, blowing it out of your face.

He stood tall, straight, unmoving, statuesque in the middle of his prison. Hands at his sides. Eyes mild. Mouth straight. He gave no indication that his world had finally shifted after millennia of black and white.

“I didn’t have to wait long.” His voice sent shivers down your spine, your body so reactive to even the sound of his words that you wondered, for just a second, what his touch would do.

You closed the door, tentatively approaching the control board. You saw a big red button and decided maybe touching random buttons wouldn’t do any of you any good.

“What’s your name?” he asked, following your movements with his sharp emerald gaze. He still stood there, like cement was poured down the length of his spine.

You darted your eyes back to his. He was glad in - what you later learned - was a green and gold ensemble, a green cotton cape grazing the floor of his cage. He was beautiful, really. Cut by the finest knife to the most perfect edge.

He smiled then, creasing his cheeks in what you could only feel as adorable.

“Didn’t expect it to be moi, did you, princess?”

You tried not to react, but heat bloomed across your cheeks, giving you away.

“Why?” you asked.

He rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically, breaking his statuesque stance to throw his arms up. “By the Gods,” he groaned, accent thick on his tongue. “You humans are so pathetic. Why this? Why that? Why me? Oh, you want to be so special that you question the straight line of fate as if the entire meaning of the world revolved around you.”

You raised your brows. Wow. He’d been thinking of that for a while.

“Do you know the colors?” you asked, approaching the glass that separated you from your soulmate.

He took you in, green eyes drinking you in from head to toe. He didn’t seem to think anything negative about his soulmate. “I’ve taken sense-enhancing drugs in my lifetime,” he said. “I’ve known colors briefly. Thor taught them to me.”

You nodded. “Your eyes are green.”

His lips split in a grin. “You’re very perceptive,” he chuckled. “And you’re wearing a powder blue sweater. Childish.”

Something in you shifted and you wanted to say something, something bad. Something along the lines of, “what is your favorite color?” and then run and wear it.

Instead, you approached the glass even more. By this distance, you could see he was significantly taller than you. He eyed you down his nose.

“A human,” he said with distaste.

“Maybe that’s your punishment,” you ventured, your heart railing against your ribs. “Maybe that’s your conundrum. You’ve thought nothing of humanity but the possibility to dominate and squander us under your boot like ants. Isn’t it fitting?”

You saw the anger cross his face before his lips spat the vile things he thought in his mind. “You are not worthy of a God, you fleeting, imbecile, nothingness of a human. I will outlive you before I even grow a white hair. Our children will watch you wither before they’ve even gone to school.”

“Our children?”

That seemed to faze him.

Wow, you thought. Of all the things Loki was, he was traditional. He very well intended to follow through with the soulmate script; to marry you and have children with you.

The thought first amazed you, burning bright in your mind’s eye. Then you thought twice and feigned disgust.

He laughed. “Oh, please, you’re the luckiest woman in the universe to have been bound to a God.”

“Aren’t you a demi?”

His gaze placated you. “I am, but the fact remains that I am greater than you, greater than anything your pathetic little human brain can conceive.”

You rolled your eyes with audacity you didn’t know you had. “Well,” you sighed, shrugging, hands in your back pockets. “What now?”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“Are we to start this - thing, or are we to go back to our normal lives and, hoping you don’t obliterate the planet, we never see each other again?”

His jaw clenched, working. “You know it’s physically impossible now for us to be apart.” He said this through clenched teeth, hands in fists.

You shrugged again. “I don’t know about you but I wouldn’t mind never having to look at your ugly mug ever again.”

He frowned deeply. “Try it, then, you’ll see, mortal.”

You sighed apathetically, turning your back to him.

“Before you go!” Loki called. You turned slowly on your heel, offering him nothing but your side profile. “Let your brother know I’m hoping to meet him soon.”

The blood in your veins went cold.

Part 2? Anybody?

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