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araitsume · 4 years ago

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The Desire of Ages, pp. 685-697: Chapter (74) Gethsemane

This chapter is based on Matthew 26:36-56; Mark 14:32-50; Luke 22:39-53; John 18:1-12.

In company with His disciples, the Saviour slowly made His way to the garden of Gethsemane. The Passover moon, broad and full, shone from a cloudless sky. The city of pilgrims’ tents was hushed into silence.

Jesus had been earnestly conversing with His disciples and instructing them; but as He neared Gethsemane, He became strangely silent. He had often visited this spot for meditation and prayer; but never with a heart so full of sorrow as upon this night of His last agony. Throughout His life on earth He had walked in the light of God's presence. When in conflict with men who were inspired by the very spirit of Satan, He could say, “He that sent Me is with Me: the Father hath not left Me alone; for I do always those things that please Him.” John 8:29. But now He seemed to be shut out from the light of God's sustaining presence. Now He was numbered with the transgressors. The guilt of fallen humanity He must bear. Upon Him who knew no sin must be laid the iniquity of us all. So dreadful does sin appear to Him, so great is the weight of guilt which He must bear, that He is tempted to fear it will shut Him out forever from His Father's love. Feeling how terrible is the wrath of God against transgression, He exclaims, “My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.”

As they approached the garden, the disciples had marked the change that came over their Master. Never before had they seen Him so utterly sad and silent. As He proceeded, this strange sadness deepened; yet they dared not question Him as to the cause. His form swayed as if He were about to fall. Upon reaching the garden, the disciples looked anxiously for His usual place of retirement, that their Master might rest. Every step that He now took was with labored effort. He groaned aloud, as if suffering under the pressure of a terrible burden. Twice His companions supported Him, or He would have fallen to the earth.

Near the entrance to the garden, Jesus left all but three of the disciples, bidding them pray for themselves and for Him. With Peter, James, and John, He entered its secluded recesses. These three disciples were Christ's closest companions. They had beheld His glory on the mount of transfiguration; they had seen Moses and Elijah talking with Him; they had heard the voice from heaven; now in His great struggle, Christ desired their presence near Him. Often they had passed the night with Him in this retreat. On these occasions, after a season of watching and prayer, they would sleep undisturbed at a little distance from their Master, until He awoke them in the morning to go forth anew to labor. But now He desired them to spend the night with Him in prayer. Yet He could not bear that even they should witness the agony He was to endure.

“Tarry ye here,” He said, “and watch with Me.”

He went a little distance from them—not so far but that they could both see and hear Him—and fell prostrate upon the ground. He felt that by sin He was being separated from His Father. The gulf was so broad, so black, so deep, that His spirit shuddered before it. This agony He must not exert His divine power to escape. As man He must suffer the consequences of man's sin. As man He must endure the wrath of God against transgression.

Christ was now standing in a different attitude from that in which He had ever stood before. His suffering can best be described in the words of the prophet, “Awake, O sword, against My shepherd, and against the man that is My fellow, saith the Lord of hosts.” Zechariah 13:7. As the substitute and surety for sinful man, Christ was suffering under divine justice. He saw what justice meant. Hitherto He had been as an intercessor for others; now He longed to have an intercessor for Himself.

As Christ felt His unity with the Father broken up, He feared that in His human nature He would be unable to endure the coming conflict with the powers of darkness. In the wilderness of temptation the destiny of the human race had been at stake. Christ was then conqueror. Now the tempter had come for the last fearful struggle. For this he had been preparing during the three years of Christ's ministry. Everything was at stake with him. If he failed here, his hope of mastery was lost; the kingdoms of the world would finally become Christ's; he himself would be overthrown and cast out. But if Christ could be overcome, the earth would become Satan's kingdom, and the human race would be forever in his power. With the issues of the conflict before Him, Christ's soul was filled with dread of separation from God. Satan told Him that if He became the surety for a sinful world, the separation would be eternal. He would be identified with Satan's kingdom, and would nevermore be one with God.

And what was to be gained by this sacrifice? How hopeless appeared the guilt and ingratitude of men! In its hardest features Satan pressed the situation upon the Redeemer: The people who claim to be above all others in temporal and spiritual advantages have rejected You. They are seeking to destroy You, the foundation, the center and seal of the promises made to them as a peculiar people. One of Your own disciples, who has listened to Your instruction, and has been among the foremost in church activities, will betray You. One of Your most zealous followers will deny You. All will forsake You. Christ's whole being abhorred the thought. That those whom He had undertaken to save, those whom He loved so much, should unite in the plots of Satan, this pierced His soul. The conflict was terrible. Its measure was the guilt of His nation, of His accusers and betrayer, the guilt of a world lying in wickedness. The sins of men weighed heavily upon Christ, and the sense of God's wrath against sin was crushing out His life.

Behold Him contemplating the price to be paid for the human soul. In His agony He clings to the cold ground, as if to prevent Himself from being drawn farther from God. The chilling dew of night falls upon His prostrate form, but He heeds it not. From His pale lips comes the bitter cry, “O My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me.” Yet even now He adds, “Nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt.”

The human heart longs for sympathy in suffering. This longing Christ felt to the very depths of His being. In the supreme agony of His soul He came to His disciples with a yearning desire to hear some words of comfort from those whom He had so often blessed and comforted, and shielded in sorrow and distress. The One who had always had words of sympathy for them was now suffering superhuman agony, and He longed to know that they were praying for Him and for themselves. How dark seemed the malignity of sin! Terrible was the temptation to let the human race bear the consequences of its own guilt, while He stood innocent before God. If He could only know that His disciples understood and appreciated this, He would be strengthened.

Rising with painful effort, He staggered to the place where He had left His companions. But He “findeth them asleep.” Had He found them praying, He would have been relieved. Had they been seeking refuge in God, that satanic agencies might not prevail over them, He would have been comforted by their steadfast faith. But they had not heeded the repeated warning, “Watch and pray.” At first they had been much troubled to see their Master, usually so calm and dignified, wrestling with a sorrow that was beyond comprehension. They had prayed as they heard the strong cries of the sufferer. They did not intend to forsake their Lord, but they seemed paralyzed by a stupor which they might have shaken off if they had continued pleading with God. They did not realize the necessity of watchfulness and earnest prayer in order to withstand temptation.

Just before He bent His footsteps to the garden, Jesus had said to the disciples, “All ye shall be offended because of Me this night.” They had given Him the strongest assurance that they would go with Him to prison and to death. And poor, self-sufficient Peter had added, “Although all shall be offended, yet will not I.” Mark 14:27, 29. But the disciples trusted to themselves. They did not look to the mighty Helper as Christ had counseled them to do. Thus when the Saviour was most in need of their sympathy and prayers, they were found asleep. Even Peter was sleeping.

And John, the loving disciple who had leaned upon the breast of Jesus, was asleep. Surely, the love of John for his Master should have kept him awake. His earnest prayers should have mingled with those of his loved Saviour in the time of His supreme sorrow. The Redeemer had spent entire nights praying for His disciples, that their faith might not fail. Should Jesus now put to James and John the question He had once asked them, “Are ye able to drink of the cup that I shall drink of, and to be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” they would not have ventured to answer, “We are able.” Matthew 20:22.

The disciples awakened at the voice of Jesus, but they hardly knew Him, His face was so changed by anguish. Addressing Peter, Jesus said, “Simon, sleepest thou? couldest not thou watch one hour? Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak.” The weakness of His disciples awakened the sympathy of Jesus. He feared that they would not be able to endure the test which would come upon them in His betrayal and death. He did not reprove them, but said, “Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into temptation.” Even in His great agony, He was seeking to excuse their weakness. “The spirit truly is ready,” He said, “but the flesh is weak.”

Again the Son of God was seized with superhuman agony, and fainting and exhausted, He staggered back to the place of His former struggle. His suffering was even greater than before. As the agony of soul came upon Him, “His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” The cypress and palm trees were the silent witnesses of His anguish. From their leafy branches dropped heavy dew upon His stricken form, as if nature wept over its Author wrestling alone with the powers of darkness.

A short time before, Jesus had stood like a mighty cedar, withstanding the storm of opposition that spent its fury upon Him. Stubborn wills, and hearts filled with malice and subtlety, had striven in vain to confuse and overpower Him. He stood forth in divine majesty as the Son of God. Now He was like a reed beaten and bent by the angry storm. He had approached the consummation of His work a conqueror, having at each step gained the victory over the powers of darkness. As one already glorified, He had claimed oneness with God. In unfaltering accents He had poured out His songs of praise. He had spoken to His disciples in words of courage and tenderness. Now had come the hour of the power of darkness. Now His voice was heard on the still evening air, not in tones of triumph, but full of human anguish. The words of the Saviour were borne to the ears of the drowsy disciples, “O My Father, if this cup may not pass away from Me, except I drink it, Thy will be done.”

The first impulse of the disciples was to go to Him; but He had bidden them tarry there, watching unto prayer. When Jesus came to them, He found them still sleeping. Again He had felt a longing for companionship, for some words from His disciples which would bring relief, and break the spell of darkness that well-nigh overpowered Him. But their eyes were heavy; “neither wist they what to answer Him.” His presence aroused them. They saw His face marked with the bloody sweat of agony, and they were filled with fear. His anguish of mind they could not understand. “His visage was so marred more than any man, and His form more than the sons of men.” Isaiah 52:14.

Turning away, Jesus sought again His retreat, and fell prostrate, overcome by the horror of a great darkness. The humanity of the Son of God trembled in that trying hour. He prayed not now for His disciples that their faith might not fail, but for His own tempted, agonized soul. The awful moment had come—that moment which was to decide the destiny of the world. The fate of humanity trembled in the balance. Christ might even now refuse to drink the cup apportioned to guilty man. It was not yet too late. He might wipe the bloody sweat from His brow, and leave man to perish in his iniquity. He might say, Let the transgressor receive the penalty of his sin, and I will go back to My Father. Will the Son of God drink the bitter cup of humiliation and agony? Will the innocent suffer the consequences of the curse of sin, to save the guilty? The words fall tremblingly from the pale lips of Jesus, “O My Father, if this cup may not pass away from Me, except I drink it, Thy will be done.”

Three times has He uttered that prayer. Three times has humanity shrunk from the last, crowning sacrifice. But now the history of the human race comes up before the world's Redeemer. He sees that the transgressors of the law, if left to themselves, must perish. He sees the helplessness of man. He sees the power of sin. The woes and lamentations of a doomed world rise before Him. He beholds its impending fate, and His decision is made. He will save man at any cost to Himself. He accepts His baptism of blood, that through Him perishing millions may gain everlasting life. He has left the courts of heaven, where all is purity, happiness, and glory, to save the one lost sheep, the one world that has fallen by transgression. And He will not turn from His mission. He will become the propitiation of a race that has willed to sin. His prayer now breathes only submission: “If this cup may not pass away from Me, except I drink it, Thy will be done.”

Having made the decision, He fell dying to the ground from which He had partially risen. Where now were His disciples, to place their hands tenderly beneath the head of their fainting Master, and bathe that brow, marred indeed more than the sons of men? The Saviour trod the wine press alone, and of the people there was none with Him.

But God suffered with His Son. Angels beheld the Saviour's agony. They saw their Lord enclosed by legions of satanic forces, His nature weighed down with a shuddering, mysterious dread. There was silence in heaven. No harp was touched. Could mortals have viewed the amazement of the angelic host as in silent grief they watched the Father separating His beams of light, love, and glory from His beloved Son, they would better understand how offensive in His sight is sin.

The worlds unfallen and the heavenly angels had watched with intense interest as the conflict drew to its close. Satan and his confederacy of evil, the legions of apostasy, watched intently this great crisis in the work of redemption. The powers of good and evil waited to see what answer would come to Christ's thrice-repeated prayer. Angels had longed to bring relief to the divine sufferer, but this might not be. No way of escape was found for the Son of God. In this awful crisis, when everything was at stake, when the mysterious cup trembled in the hand of the sufferer, the heavens opened, a light shone forth amid the stormy darkness of the crisis hour, and the mighty angel who stands in God's presence, occupying the position from which Satan fell, came to the side of Christ. The angel came not to take the cup from Christ's hand, but to strengthen Him to drink it, with the assurance of the Father's love. He came to give power to the divine-human suppliant. He pointed Him to the open heavens, telling Him of the souls that would be saved as the result of His sufferings. He assured Him that His Father is greater and more powerful than Satan, that His death would result in the utter discomfiture of Satan, and that the kingdom of this world would be given to the saints of the Most High. He told Him that He would see of the travail of His soul, and be satisfied, for He would see a multitude of the human race saved, eternally saved.

Christ's agony did not cease, but His depression and discouragement left Him. The storm had in nowise abated, but He who was its object was strengthened to meet its fury. He came forth calm and serene. A heavenly peace rested upon His bloodstained face. He had borne that which no human being could ever bear; for He had tasted the sufferings of death for every man.

The sleeping disciples had been suddenly awakened by the light surrounding the Saviour. They saw the angel bending over their prostrate Master. They saw him lift the Saviour's head upon his bosom, and point toward heaven. They heard his voice, like sweetest music, speaking words of comfort and hope. The disciples recalled the scene upon the mount of transfiguration. They remembered the glory that in the temple had encircled Jesus, and the voice of God that spoke from the cloud. Now that same glory was again revealed, and they had no further fear for their Master. He was under the care of God; a mighty angel had been sent to protect Him. Again the disciples in their weariness yield to the strange stupor that overpowers them. Again Jesus finds them sleeping.

Looking sorrowfully upon them He says, “Sleep on now, and take your rest: behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners.”

Even as He spoke these words, He heard the footsteps of the mob in search of Him, and said, “Rise, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that doth betray Me.”

No traces of His recent agony were visible as Jesus stepped forth to meet His betrayer. Standing in advance of His disciples He said, “Whom seek ye?” They answered, “Jesus of Nazareth.” Jesus replied, “I am He.” As these words were spoken, the angel who had lately ministered to Jesus moved between Him and the mob. A divine light illuminated the Saviour's face, and a dovelike form overshadowed Him. In the presence of this divine glory, the murderous throng could not stand for a moment. They staggered back. Priests, elders, soldiers, and even Judas, fell as dead men to the ground.

The angel withdrew, and the light faded away. Jesus had opportunity to escape, but He remained, calm and self-possessed. As one glorified He stood in the midst of that hardened band, now prostrate and helpless at His feet. The disciples looked on, silent with wonder and awe.

But quickly the scene changed. The mob started up. The Roman soldiers, the priests and Judas, gathered about Christ. They seemed ashamed of their weakness, and fearful that He would yet escape. Again the question was asked by the Redeemer, “Whom seek ye?” They had had evidence that He who stood before them was the Son of God, but they would not be convinced. To the question, “Whom seek ye?” again they answered, “Jesus of Nazareth.” The Saviour then said, “I have told you that I am He: if therefore ye seek Me, let these go their way”—pointing to the disciples. He knew how weak was their faith, and He sought to shield them from temptation and trial. For them He was ready to sacrifice Himself.

Judas the betrayer did not forget the part he was to act. When the mob entered the garden, he had led the way, closely followed by the high priest. To the pursuers of Jesus he had given a sign, saying, “Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is He: hold Him fast.” Matthew 26:48. Now he pretends to have no part with them. Coming close to Jesus, he takes His hand as a familiar friend. With the words, “Hail, Master,” he kisses Him repeatedly, and appears to weep as if in sympathy with Him in His peril.

Jesus said to him, “Friend, wherefore art thou come?” His voice trembled with sorrow as He added, “Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss?” This appeal should have aroused the conscience of the betrayer, and touched his stubborn heart; but honor, fidelity, and human tenderness had forsaken him. He stood bold and defiant, showing no disposition to relent. He had given himself up to Satan, and he had no power to resist him. Jesus did not refuse the traitor's kiss.

The mob grew bold as they saw Judas touch the person of Him who had so recently been glorified before their eyes. They now laid hold of Jesus, and proceeded to bind those precious hands that had ever been employed in doing good.

The disciples had thought that their Master would not suffer Himself to be taken. For the same power that had caused the mob to fall as dead men could keep them helpless, until Jesus and His companions should escape. They were disappointed and indignant as they saw the cords brought forward to bind the hands of Him whom they loved. Peter in his anger rashly drew his sword and tried to defend his Master, but he only cut off an ear of the high priest's servant. When Jesus saw what was done, He released His hands, though held firmly by the Roman soldiers, and saying, “Suffer ye thus far,” He touched the wounded ear, and it was instantly made whole. He then said to Peter, “Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to My Father, and He shall presently give Me more than twelve legions of angels?”—a legion in place of each one of the disciples. Oh, why, the disciples thought, does He not save Himself and us? Answering their unspoken thought, He added, “But how then shall the scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be?” “The cup which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?”

The official dignity of the Jewish leaders had not prevented them from joining in the pursuit of Jesus. His arrest was too important a matter to be trusted to subordinates; the wily priests and elders had joined the temple police and the rabble in following Judas to Gethsemane. What a company for those dignitaries to unite with—a mob that was eager for excitement, and armed with all kinds of implements, as if in pursuit of a wild beast!

Turning to the priests and elders, Christ fixed upon them His searching glance. The words He spoke they would never forget as long as life should last. They were as the sharp arrows of the Almighty. With dignity He said: You come out against Me with swords and staves as you would against a thief or a robber. Day by day I sat teaching in the temple. You had every opportunity of laying hands upon Me, and you did nothing. The night is better suited to your work. “This is your hour, and the power of darkness.”

The disciples were terrified as they saw Jesus permit Himself to be taken and bound. They were offended that He should suffer this humiliation to Himself and them. They could not understand His conduct, and they blamed Him for submitting to the mob. In their indignation and fear, Peter proposed that they save themselves. Following this suggestion, “they all forsook Him, and fled.” But Christ had foretold this desertion, “Behold,” He had said, “the hour cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave Me alone: and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me.” John 16:32.

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izzy-b-hands · 5 years ago

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Every Night

Prompt: “We’ll figure this out.” and “Don’t be scared, I’m right here.”

A sort of sequel to Sleep Like The Dead in that it deals with a similar topic of ‘funky tablet magic and changes that results in mild horror for all involved with a good ending’

that tbh kinda got away from me

but once the spirit took me it was like

ok this is happening we got a plot lets go lets go!!!

this got longer than a oneshot should be but

here we are lol.

The patrons that had alerted him to the rattling sarcophagus were surprisingly calm.

“Maybe a rat!” the short, beaming tourist suggested. “We’ve seen so many rats here! One almost as big as Tommy!”

Tommy, all of maybe seven, nodded very seriously before they took off, leaving Larry to rope off the already nearly closed exhibition as patrons filed out, the final closing announcement echoing down the halls.

He closed the doors to the exhibit, only to see the statue guards immediately sigh deeply and begin to move.

“Were...were you awake all day?”

They looked at him with what he could only call desperation, and pointed towards the still shaking sarcophagus.

He’d never been so glad to show up early for his shift as he pushed the lid off, and Ahkmenrah, very much healthy flesh and blood rather than the mummified corpse he should have been at that hour.

Ahkmenrah wasn’t a pharaoh in that moment, but reminded Larry desperately of his son in younger years, when he’d wake sobbing after a nightmare, his entire body wracked with weeping, to the point that it seemed it must hurt. He clung to Larry like a drowning man, saying something in between the sobs, but only half in English, and even then Larry could barely make it out.

Finally, after a good ten minutes of what seemed to be pure terror, Ahkmenrah let him go, and took a deep, shaky breath, looking at him with wide eyes, red from the crying. He looked exhausted.

“Were you awake...all day?”

Ahkmenrah shook his head. “Not all day. Maybe...I don’t know how much time passed. I think I heard someone mention it nearly being noon when I woke.”

It was nearly 6:20 now, with the museum having formally closed at 5:45. That was six hours of being awake, trapped, forced to stay silent and still...

“I’m sorry,” Ahkmenrah’s voice broke as he dropped his head into his hands. “I hope I didn’t frighten anyone. But I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve gotten so used to being able to leave my sarcophagus when I wake that being stuck in it, for any amount of time...”

Larry hugged him again as Ahkmenrah shook his head, and started to weep anew.

“Okay. We’ll figure this out. I’ll ask if anyone else was awake and we’ll...I don’t know. But we won’t let this happen again. For your sake, or the patrons. Don’t get me wrong, we could certainly try and sell ‘haunted sarcophagus mummy curse’ as an angle, but I know I’d rather not.”

As he let go, Ahkmenrah gave him a small smile.

“Oh buddy. You need rest,” he sighed, and Ahkmenrah’s smile immediately fell and turned to a look of horror. “Oh god! No, not in here, Jesus. No, out in the employee lounge or something. Where you have room and can get up and move at your leisure. C’mon. Let’s get you into something more comfortable, and I’ll start investigating.”

He helped Ahkmenrah from the sarcophagus, and led the way to the lounge. He knew that Ahkmenrah was plenty capable of getting there and into the sweats he’d acquired for him on his own, but it seemed he didn’t want to be left alone.

He trailed after Larry like a lost puppy dog, eyes taking in every museum inhabitant they passed, clearly with a level of paranoia left over from his trauma earlier in the day. He seemed so much his age and so much not all at once, in the way that Larry figured he had at twenty-something as well. Old enough to take care of oneself, to know better about most things, but in a moment of fear and uncertainty still capable of looking so young and frightened that it almost hurt to look at.

“I want to help. Talk to everyone, I mean,” Ahkmenrah said as they reached the lounge. “I’ll still change. Not that I’m not comfortable in this, but-”

“You can be honest with me. If you don’t wanna wear the royal garb every night, you certainly don’t have to. This is your home. Home is where you can wear whatever you want, relax, feel safe. All you gotta do is let me know, and we’ll get you here right away so you can change.”

Ahkmenrah smiled at that before heading in and changing faster than Larry figured most people could. But all his other clothes were safely removed, set aside on the couch in the lounge, and Ahkmenrah joined him on his walk to the main hall of the museum looking for all the world like any other twenty or so year old, with messy hair, comfortable sweatshirt and sweatpants. The only trapping of his origins that remained were the sandals on his feet.

“I’d slide on the marble in the socks,” he admitted to Larry as they walked. “They are very nice, and I love them, but-”

“You don’t wanna see if you can slide from one hall to another in them on accident?” Larry asked with a chuckle.

“...that would be fun. But not on accident. My luck I’d crash into something expensive,” Ahkmenrah replied.

“Everything is expensive in here,” Larry laughed.

“Exactly,” Ahkmenrah smiled, and it was a relief to see it.

“This would just be easier if we did a huge announcement, maybe?” Larry asked, half to himself and half to Ahkmenrah as he trotted to the rotunda and picked up the PA system’s microphone.

“I know everyone’s already having fun, but can I get everyone’s attention for a quick second? Really important, but quick, survey,” he announced.

A few heads turned, but most, understandably already enveloped in their talking with others, ignored it.

Ahkmenrah took the microphone from his hand gently. “Let me try.”

The smile he wore was nervous and soft, even as he authoritatively announced: “Who else was alive earlier? Was anyone trapped, as I was? If you were, come and speak to us, immediately. Or else, I’ll find a way to leave the tablet functioning throughout all of tomorrow, and all of you shall know my terror.”

That shut everyone up, and turned every head.

“I thought it was just me,” Teddy said, one of the first to trickle towards the desk. “My god, holding my pose like that, watching them all go by, not being able to move an inch..”

“Teddy, do you know what time it was when that happened?” Larry asked.

“Twelve noon, sharp. First thing I got a look at was the clock once I woke. And then, since I have such a wondrous view of it, it was all I watched as I waited for the hours to tick down,” he replied. “But at least I wasn’t stuck inside of anything. My lord, how are you doing, my boy? Surely that must have been-”

“It was bad,” Ahkmenrah interrupted his tone slightly sharp. “I...I don’t wish to talk about it further, if-”

Teddy interrupted him right back with a gasp. “Of course, forgive me. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m sorry whatever this is affected you as well, Teddy. I can’t imagine trying to stay still with all the patrons watching me near-constantly.”

Teddy only nodded, and joined them behind the desk, settling down at one of the empty chairs. He looked...the only word Larry could find for it was haunted. And just as exhausted as Ahkmenrah, as well.

The desk shook as Rexy stalked up as close as he could get to the desk.

“You as well?” Ahkmenrah asked, and bit back a smile as Rexy posed for them, then shook his head and scoffed, then posed again, and tossed his head back in frustration. “Ah. I understand. Thank you for letting us know.”

Rexy stomped off again, nearly taking out the desk with his tail as he went, causing them all to duck.

“Larry...what do we do if it is everyone? Or nearly everyone? I mean, even a few is too many, really, because if anyone falters in keeping up appearances while patrons are here...”

The panic in Ahkmenrah’s voice hurt to hear. He didn’t need anything else to worry about after what had already happened.

“I don’t know, at least not right now. But I do know that we’ll have a look at the tablet and maybe...I don’t know. Maybe something new to explain this is written there, or something,” he replied.

“That’s...not how this works, Larry. I mean that respectfully,” Ahkmenrah said, biting at his lip. “But...artifacts do not just magically have additions made to them, it isn’t like tomorrow Teddy will awaken with a tattoo or something or-”

“Well, how do we know for sure? I mean, it is magic, of a kind,” Larry interrupted. “Can you really rule it out?”

Ahkmenrah’s jaw worked, his tell that he was deeply contemplating things. “I suppose not. But it would be very strange, and far too simple an explanation.”

“What about daylight savings?” Jed asked, clambering onto the desk, with Octavius scrambling after him. “That have somethin’ to do with it?”

“Um. I don’t think so, only because it’s never had an effect before-” Ahkmenrah started.

“Climate change,” Octavius interrupted confidently.

“Like...you wanna talk about it, or you think it has something to do with this?” Larry asked.

“Both,” Octavius shrugged. “Heard some of the patrons discussing it today. What a terrible, horrifying thing. How are you not scared all the time, Larry?”

“I mean, I suppose most people living today are, to some degree-”

“They said some people deny it though,” Jed piped up. “The hell is that about? Who the hell goes to a museum, a place of science and I guess kind of magic, all things considered, and then disputes it?”

“I appreciate your concern for current issues, but one problem at a time,” Larry continued. “We can start with figuring out why the tablet woke so many people so early, and then...climate change, I guess. It’ll take a lot more than just us, but-”

“You got that right,” Jed interrupted.

“Though every bit could help,” Octavius added.

“So...were you two awakened at noon, or...” Akmenrah asked awkwardly.

“Oh, yeah. Some asshat threw a sandwich wrapper in my display; who does that?!” Jed fussed.

“Someone who doesn’t care about the climate,” Octavius tutted.

“Exactly, and you know-”

“You two have a great conversation going,” Ahkmenrah took his turn to interrupt, looking wearier by the second. “But maybe we can join it later on, after we’ve finished talking to everyone.”

“Fair enough,” Jed replied. “We’re gonna go find a magazine in the lounge, see if National Geographic has anything to say about all of this. Gonna take most of the night to get to the lounge, but it’s gonna be worth it.”

With that, the two tiny figures dashed away, leaping off various bits of office equipment on the desk to get to the floor before running in the direction of the employee lounge.

“...well then,” Teddy sighed.

“Indeed,” Ahkmenrah added.

An awkward silence fell between them then, as the other museum inhabitants milled about, but no one else came forward.

“It can’t have been only us,” Teddy said. “There’s simply no way.”

“I don’t think it was,” Sacagawea said, as she approached the desk. “But many are afraid to speak on it. There is concern among them, of a curse, of something gone horribly wrong. None of us enjoy being forced back into...”

“Nothingness,” Ahkmenrah supplied. “Like an empty sleep.”

Sacagawea nodded. “At the same time, spending all day in false suspension, worrying that you might accidentally move or give some sign of life and frighten people is no better.”

“We have to check the tablet then,” Larry said. “Something has to be there to explain this.”

“That would be too simple,” Ahkmenrah stressed, but led the way to his exhibit quickly nonetheless, with Larry, Teddy, and Sacagawea following him.

Ahkmenrah read over the tablet with a quick and practiced eye, only to frown.

“It says something, doesn’t it?” Larry asked.

Ahkmenrah’s frown deepened.

“It does!”

“I have no idea how this could have happened, or who could have made it happen...it is such a simple addition to the spell as well, merely changing the time of awakening...who would benefit from this?” Ahkmenrah muttered as he set the tablet back in its place.

“Maybe it’s like they said,” Teddy mused.

“Jed and Octavius? Look, climate change is a real concern, but I don’t think...” Larry replied.

“No, not that exactly. But these are dark, strange times for many, are they not, Lawrence? Perhaps some energy within the world has affixed itself to the tablet. After all, if its magic exists, what else might be slightly to the left or right of what we can see?” Teddy asked.

“I...I don’t know. I suppose. But that doesn’t tell us what we can do about it,” Larry said.

“Maybe if we test it first. See if it does this again tomorrow,” Ahkmenrah said softly, fear edging into his voice. “I don’t want to, but I don’t know what else to do. But Larry...”

“Needs to find a way to get your exhibit temporarily closed until we figure it out, and needs to stay tomorrow to set you free if you do wake up,” Larry finished the statement definitively.

“I wasn’t going to ask, but if you’re willing,” Ahkmenrah said. “I’d greatly appreciate it, Larry.”

“I technically need sleep, but that’s a small technicality,” Larry replied.

Teddy stared. “You’re a father, Lawrence.”

“He’s with his mom for the week!”

“No, I mean...that’s not a healthy habit to show him, Lawrence.”

“He isn’t here!”

“Because this is surely the first time you’ve stayed up all night and all day...” Teddy said, about as judgmentally as he could say anything, his eyes even worse than his tone of voice.

“My ability to father is not what’s in question here,” Larry sighed. “What is in question is...magic.”

“Did that sound better in your head?” Sacagawea asked softly.

“We ought to get back,” Teddy interjected. “The hour grows...early, I suppose. We’ll in theory be asleep again shortly. Lawrence, good luck on it all. If you need us tomorrow night, let us know.”

Larry nodded as they left, and watched as Ahkmenrah slipped into his sarcophagus, still in the sweats.

“I’ll get your clothes. You stay in those; I don’t think it’ll matter much once you uh...re-mummify and then un-mummify later. I’m gonna real quick break the least expensive thing in here, okay?” Larry asked.

“Is that your game plan to close this exhibit?”

“Yes?” Larry asked as he hoisted a vase above his head.

“That’ll do fine. That vase is a reproduction anyway, I accidentally broke the real one as a child,” Ahkmenrah replied as he laid back in the sarcophagus. “Will you...stay in here, while I’m...”

“Yeah, of course,” Larry said before letting the vase fall from his hands and shatter on the ground, shards of the plaster and clay going everywhere.

“Thank you, L-”

The alarm on Larry’s watch beeped as Ahkmenrah’s voice dropped away.

He silenced it and peeked into the sarcophagus. It was a wild thing, to see him completely dead and gone again, when he had been so alive just a moment before. Unsettling, as well.

But he had no time to observe him, only to run and cry wolf about the exhibit.

Shockingly, it worked, and more importantly, after the shards of the vase replica were recovered, he was left with Ahkmenrah, though the workers seemed to doubt his sanity mildly at not wanting to go home and rest.

But he’d made a promise. And he had no intention of breaking it.

With the doors to the exhibition shut, it was horribly dark. Dark enough to put him to sleep even as he fought it, sat against one of the pillars in the room, waiting for the night to come.

He woke to shrieking, panicked and out of control.

Ahkmenrah was sat up in the sarcophagus, though Larry could only just make out his silhouette as he struggled to his feet, pushing away the grogginess that threatened to cloud his mind.

He turned on his flashlight, and turned it on Ahkmenrah as close as he could without blinding him. “Ahk! Hey, it’s me. You’re saaaaaa-”

He fought back his own scream. Something was wrong with the magic, clearly. Whatever or whoever had done the addition to the tablet had done something incorrect, horribly.

Ahkmenrah’s face was half mummified, half not, dust and who knew what else pouring from his mouth as he screamed and cried. The hand at his mouth was full flesh, but the one that reached out for Larry was mostly bone and dried skin.

“Okay. Okay. Okay,” Larry said, though it was absolutely not. “Don’t be scared, I’m right here. You’re okay.”

“No I’m not,” Ahkmenrah wept. “Larry, help.”

“I-I don’t know,” Larry hesitated, then did the only thing that came to mind. To treat him just like Nicholas with a nightmare, even if this was a never-ending living one.

He sat on the edge of the open sarcophagus, and wrapped his arms around Ahkmenrah, ignoring the crawling of his skin as his hands moved over the still-mummified portions of his arm and back. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out, somehow. Maybe we can edit the tablet ourselves, or something. But we aren’t going to leave you like this, I promise.”

Ahkmenrah was no longer saying anything in English, but though Larry couldn’t understand it, he knew the tone. Someone scared, in need of love and caring and help.

It took a good hour, from noon to one, before Ahkmenrah was calm enough to speak.

By one, he was fully living, no longer half-mummified, and breathing normally again, his tears dried.

“Thank you, Larry,” Ahkmenrah’s voice was rough, his weeping evident in the cracks of his voice, the dryness of his throat. “I’m sorry for my reaction.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Larry replied. “You have nothing to be sorry for, because that was terrifying.”

Ahkmenrah looked to him with a face that screamed hurt, illuminated by the flashlight.

“Oh god, I didn’t mean. I’m sorry,” Larry continued. “I just meant I’d be terrified too, if that happened to me.”

The relief on Ahkmenrah’s face was palpable. “Right. Sorry.”

“No, no more sorry. I meant it, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“What if we can’t fix it?” Ahkmenrah’s voice was timid. “What if there’s nothing to be done?”

That was the question of the hour, Larry could only think to himself. He didn’t want to even consider what that might mean for Ahkmenrah and the rest of the inhabitants. Would coming to life still be worth it if it meant inconveniently being brought back while patrons were still in the museum?

He couldn’t know.

“Then we figure out how to move forward,” Larry said, feeling the dissatisfaction in the answer even as he said it.

“Very well,” Ahkmenrah replied, his voice still so soft, so low.

In the dark, it was like two ghosts conversing, especially once the flashlight was off to conserve its battery. It felt otherworldly, not exactly bad, but definitely strange.

Still, it felt better being outside of the exhibit in the light, as soon as six o’clock hit.

“Better,” Ahkmenrah said as they stepped out, brushing the bits of dried skin and bandage remnants from his sweats with one hand. The other held tight to the tablet.

“Yes,” Larry agreed. “Ready to figure this out?”

Ahkmenrah nodded, and they moved to the one place they might be left alone to investigate the tablet.

“How is it always cold in here?” Ahkmenrah asked as they settled in the employee lounge.

“Think it’s on purpose. If I come in here I won’t fall asleep then, maybe?”

Ahkmenrah frowned at that. “Did you sleep, Larry? Until I woke you, I mean.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. What we need to worry about is that,” Larry said, pointing at the tablet. “Does it say anything else, aside from changing when you guys wake up?”

Ahkmenrah pored over the tablet for a good ten minutes, his frown deepening. “Sort of? It mentions...something about the changing of all things...the end of death...whoever wrote this has terrible handwriting. What even is this one? This isn’t a hieroglyph, this is a gauge mark!”

“Call me crazy,” Larry started.

“If you wish,” Ahkmenrah replied earnestly.

“...thank you. But maybe...could it mean you?”

“Me? Me, what?”

Larry shrugged. “Returning to life, kind of, I guess? I mean, I don’t know anymore than you do; I’m just thinking out loud.”

Ahkmenrah’s jaw was doing its thing, his eyes a thousand miles away while he thought. “I was half alive, earlier. But...what does that mean for me, if that is true?”

“How do you mean?”

“Will I age? Will I forever be this young, or...and will I be able to leave here then, or will I be some strange, vampiric sort of thing, with a body that looks alive, but is forced to sleep during the day? Will the sun destroy me? What will I be, Larry? What existence will there be for me?”

Larry knew the shock was showing on his face, but he couldn’t hide it. Ahkmenrah asked incredibly valid and important questions, but once again he found himself with no clue how to answer any of them, and he didn’t know that there would be answers.

“It’s okay. I know you don’t know,” Ahkmenrah said quietly.

Larry nodded. “If you’re afraid, I don’t blame you. I would be too. This is strange and unnerving, and I wish I did have answers for you. But I think maybe all we can do is see what happens.”

“You should rest,” Ahkmenrah said, and pointed to the couch. “I’ll need you again tonight then.”

Larry didn’t argue. He was honestly curious to see if Ahkmenrah would even re-mummify again, or if whatever was on the tablet was true, and he was on his way to being something like alive.

Plus, the couch was pretty comfortable once a person was tired enough. And he certainly was tired enough.

A few hours later he woke to Ahkmenrah’s gentle prodding. “Larry, we’ve got to go. Just in case I-”

“No, I got it,” Larry spluttered as he wiped drool from the corner of his mouth and clambered off the couch, following Ahkmenrah down the hall to the still dark exhibit.

They were right up to the line, getting Ahkmenrah back in his sarcophagus just as Larry’s alarm beeped on his watch.

His hand was still on Ahkmenrah’s arm as the deadline of sunrise came and passed.

And nothing happened. Ahkmenrah sat in front of him, appearing perfectly alive and well, eyes squinted shut as if he was waiting to poof into dust.

“Can I check you for a pulse?” Larry asked, hearing his voice shake as he took two fingers and placed them just below Ahkmenrah’s jawline.

It was a strong pulse, and he resisted the urge to put his head to Ahkmenrah’s chest to listen for a heartbeat, then did it anyway.

The sound of heartbeat had only sounded so good once before, the first time he had heard Nicholas’ heartbeat during a sonogram.

“I think...I think you’re here to stay,” he said, fighting back happy tears on Ahkmenrah’s behalf.

“I want to go in the sun,” Ahkmenrah said quickly, jumping out of the sarcophagus and running out of the exhibit to the front doors of the museum.

Before Larry could even try and stop him he was outside in the sliver of the rising sun, shouting happily into the cool morning air, laughing.

“I’m alive!” he shouted to Larry as he ran back, wrapping Larry in a hug. “I’m alive, my god. I wonder-there can’t be an expiration on this, do you think?”

“Did you read one on the tablet?” Larry asked with a smile.

“No, no mention of one.”

“Then I think you’re here for the long haul. Maybe immortal? I really don’t know, but we’re gonna be careful with you just in case,” Larry continued.

“I can’t wait to tell everyone,” Ahkmenrah said, then his smile fell. “What if it changed something for them? What if they don’t wake up? What if-”

“We can’t know until tonight,” Larry said. “In the meantime, would you like to help me lock up before the morning staff get here, and go get breakfast?”

“Really?”

“Yes, I think you deserve it. Also, we need to find out if you like...need food. I’m pretty sure you do. But we should find out. And you can crash at my place for now,” Larry replied.

“Fantastic,” Ahkmenrah’s eyes were shining, his smile bright and bold ashe trotted after Larry while they ensured everyone was where they were meant to be, and locked what needed locking. “What will we say about the exhibit though?”

“...so we have something to brain storm over breakfast!” Larry said. “And for now...we’re going to hope they don’t go into it at all.”

“Fair enough,” Ahkmenrah said. “So what do people eat for breakfast now?”

“I think you’ll like donuts,” Larry replied. “And we’ll need the energy for sure. After all, only a few hours to nap before we’ll need to get ready and be back here. And that means clothes shopping for you, letting you have a shower, whole bunch of new modern stuff!”

Ahkmenrah was nearly bouncing as they left the museum, lifting his face to the sun, soaking up all the years he’d missed out on.

He knew it would be an adjustment for both of them, in various ways. He couldn’t even fully envision some it, like figuring out if Ahk could room with him for an extended time or if he could get him an apartment and a job in a reasonable time period. But he was excited for Ahkmenrah, and for what it all might mean, and for him finally getting a good ending despite the initial terror.

As he watched Ahk take in the city, smiling and laughing, all he could think was how much Ahk deserved it.

#text post #LeeH writes #NATM fic

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dfroza · 5 years ago

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A gentle calling to the hearts of all

is what the Spirit does in the purity of silence, heard spoken through us who have welcomed the entrance of Light within (the sound of Heaven is musical and God certainly speaks, although here on earth He remains silent in nature to inspire us within in the heart of our thought-lives with spiritual truth that illumines grace and also corrects us, accordingly)

and we see the genesis of sharing the New Covenant of grace when the Lord was here on earth and chose people to follow Him just as read in Today’s chapter of the book of Luke:

Picture these events:

On the banks of Gennesaret Lake, a huge crowd, Jesus in the center of it, presses in to hear His message from God. Off to the side, fishermen are washing their nets, leaving their boats unattended on the shore.

Jesus gets into one of the boats and asks its owner, Simon, to push off and anchor a short distance from the beach. Jesus sits down and teaches the people standing on the beach.

After speaking for a while, Jesus speaks to Simon.

Jesus: Move out into deeper water, and drop your nets to see what you’ll catch.

Simon (perplexed): Master, we’ve been fishing all night, and we haven’t caught even a minnow. But . . . all right, I’ll do it if You say so.

Simon then gets his fellow fishermen to help him let down their nets, and to their surprise, the water is bubbling with thrashing fish—a huge school. The strands of their nets start snapping under the weight of the catch, so the crew shouts to the other boat to come out and give them a hand. They start scooping fish out of the nets and into their boats, and before long, their boats are so full of fish they almost sink!

Simon’s fishing partners, James and John (two of Zebedee’s sons), along with the rest of the fishermen, see this incredible haul of fish. They’re all stunned, especially Simon. He comes close to Jesus and kneels in front of His knees.

Simon: I can’t take this, Lord. I’m a sinful man. You shouldn’t be around the likes of me.

Jesus: Don’t be afraid, Simon. From now on, I’ll ask you to bring Me people instead of fish.

The fishermen haul their fish-heavy boats to land, and they leave everything to follow Jesus.

The Book of Luke, Chapter 5:1-11 (The Voice)

and paired with this as a chapter read from each Testament is the ancient writing of Daniel 8 where we see a reflection of A grand end of time when God will fully restore the True nature of beautiful mysterious earth from the madness of its deception, as well as our physical bodies being made whole, eternal in nature.

from the book of Daniel where we see a cutting down of the pride and rebellion of mankind and dark spiritual forces that have arisen against our Creator:

Daniel: In the third year of Belshazzar’s reign over Babylon, I, Daniel, saw another vision.

This vision followed the first I had just a couple of years earlier.

(continued in the chapter...)

Then I heard two heavenly beings in conversation with each other.

Heavenly Being (to its companion): When will it all end? How long will these events—the desecrating rebellion, the perverted daily sacrifices, and the trampling of the sanctuary and heavenly army—how long will they continue?

Second Heavenly Being (to me): The world will see 2,300 mornings and evenings before all this will pass. After this the trampling will cease, and the holy sanctuary will be set right.

As I, Daniel, was trying to understand the meaning of this vision I had seen, suddenly, someone who looked like a human stood in front of me. I heard a human voice call out, coming from somewhere between the waters of the Ulai Canal.

Voice: Gabriel, explain to this man what he has seen.

So the one called Gabriel moved closer to me; as he did, I became very scared. I fell to the ground, my face down.

Gabriel (to Daniel): Son of man, allow me to help you understand this vision. All you have seen has to do with the time of the end.

As he was speaking, I slipped into a deep sleep—my face pressed to the ground. But Gabriel touched me and helped me stand to my feet where I was before.

Gabriel: I have been sent here to help you understand the things that will take place later in the final time of wrath; for everything you have seen refers to the appointed time of the end. The ram you saw by the Ulai Canal, the one with the two long horns, represents the kings of Media and Persia. The shaggy male goat represents the king of Greece. The great horn that stuck out between his eyes symbolizes the first king of Greece. The breaking off of the first horn and its replacement by four prominent horns depicts four kingdoms that will arise from this one nation, none of which will have as much power as that first king.

When their reign has come to an end,

when their rebellion has run its course,

A new king will rise to power,

defiance written across his face,

expert in riddles and ruses.

This king will grow strong—

but not on his own power.

He will stun the world with his dreadful destruction

and succeed in everything he tries.

He will wipe out a vast circle of mighty leaders

and turn his deadly hand against the holy people of God.

He will use his skill and power to stir up deceit;

in the darkness of his heart he shall believe himself great.

When all seems well, he will destroy many people,

and will even stand up against the Prince of princes.

But when the time is right, he will be broken,

though not by a human hand.

What you have seen and heard about the 2,300 evenings and the mornings is true. It will happen, but not for a long time. So seal up this vision and keep it a secret, for now.

Daniel: With this I, Daniel, was completely exhausted. I was ill for several days, unable to get out of bed. But after a time I grew stronger, got up, and resumed my service to the king. But I was very upset by the vision, for though I tried, I could never really understand it.

The Book of Daniel, Chapter 8:1, 13-27 (The Voice)

and from Today’s reading of the Psalms we see a prayer written by King David about the significance of trusting and following the Word of God, because our conduct matters. although grace is the only True cleansing that is offered as a baptism of the heart (inside, Anew)

from the lines of Psalm 17 for november 17:

A David Prayer

Listen while I build my case, God,

the most honest prayer you’ll ever hear.

Show the world I’m innocent—

in your heart you know I am.

Go ahead, examine me from inside out,

surprise me in the middle of the night—

You’ll find I’m just what I say I am.

My words don’t run loose.

I’m not trying to get my way

in the world’s way.

I’m trying to get your way,

your Word’s way.

I’m staying on your trail;

I’m putting one foot

In front of the other.

I’m not giving up.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 17:1-5 (The Message)

As for me, because I am innocent I will see your face

until I see you for who you really are.

Then I will awaken with your form and be fully satisfied,

fulfilled in the revelation of your glory in me!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 17:15 (The Passion Translation)

When struck by fear,

I let go, depending securely upon You alone.

In God—whose word I praise—

in God I place my trust. I shall not let fear come in,

for what can measly men do to me?

All day long they warp my words;

all their thoughts against me are mangled by evil.

They conspire, then lurk about.

They eye my every move,

Waiting to steal my very life.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 56:3-6 (The Voice)

[Psalm 56]

Trusting in God

For the Pure and Shining One

King David’s golden song of instruction composed when the Philistines captured him in Gath, to the tune of “The Oppression of the Princes to Come”

Lord, show me your kindness and mercy,

for these men oppose and oppress me all day long.

Not a day goes by but that somebody harasses me.

So many in their pride trample me under their feet.

But in the day that I’m afraid, I lay all my fears before you

and trust in you with all my heart.

What harm could a man bring to me?

With God on my side I will not be afraid of what comes.

The roaring praises of God fill my heart,

and I will always triumph as I trust his promises.

Day after day cruel critics distort my words;

constantly they plot my collapse.

Lurking in the dark, waiting, spying on my movements in secret

to take me by surprise, ready to take my life.

They don’t deserve to get away with this!

Look at their wickedness, their injustice, Lord.

In your fierce anger cast them down to defeat.

You’ve kept track of all my wandering and my weeping.

You’ve stored my many tears in your bottle—not one will be lost.

For they are all recorded in your book of remembrance.

The very moment I call to you for a father’s help

the tide of battle turns and my enemies flee.

This one thing I know: God is on my side!

I trust in the Lord. And I praise him!

I trust in the Word of God. And I praise him!

What harm could man do to me?

With God on my side I will not be afraid of what comes.

My heart overflows with praise to God and for his promises.

I will always trust in him.

So I’m thanking you with all my heart,

with gratitude for all you’ve done.

I will do everything I’ve promised you, Lord.

For you have saved my soul from death

and my feet from stumbling

so that I can walk before the Lord

bathed in his life-giving light.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 56 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 21]

Through Your Strength

For the end time, to the Pure and Shining One

King David’s poem of praise

Lord, because of your strength the king is strong.

Look how he rejoices in you!

He bursts out with a joyful song because of your victory!

For you have given him his heart’s desire,

anything and everything he asks for.

You haven’t withheld a thing from your betrothed one.

Pause in his presence

Rich blessings overflow with every encounter with you,

and you placed a royal crown of gold upon his head.

He wanted resurrection—you have given it to him and more!

The days of his blessing stretch on one after another, forever!

You have honored him and made him famous.

Glory garments are upon him,

and you surround him with splendor and majesty.

Your victory heaps blessing after blessing upon him.

What joy and bliss he tastes, rejoicing before your face!

For the king trusts endlessly in you,

and he will never stumble, never fall.

Your forever-love never fails and holds him firm.

Your almighty hands have captured your foes.

You uncovered all who hate you and you seized them.

When you appear before them,

unveiling the radiance of your face,

they will be consumed by the fierce fire of your presence.

Flames will swallow them up.

They and their descendants

will be destroyed by an unrelenting fire.

We will watch them fail,

for these are ones who plan their evil schemes against the Lord.

They will turn and run at the sight of your judgment-arrow

aimed straight at their hearts.

Rise up and put your might on display!

By your strength we will sing and praise your glorious power!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 21 (The Passion Translation)

and concluded by the wisdom of the Proverbs with Today’s chapter 17:

[Wisdom’s Virtues]

A simple, humble life with peace and quiet

is far better than an opulent lifestyle with nothing

but quarrels and strife at home.

A wise, intelligent servant will be honored above a shameful son.

He’ll even end up having a portion left to him in his master’s will.

In the same way that gold and silver are refined by fire,

the Lord purifies your heart by the tests and trials of life.

Those eager to embrace evil listen to slander,

for a liar loves to listen to lies.

Mock the poor, will you?

You insult your Creator every time you do!

If you make fun of others’ misfortune,

you’d better watch out—your punishment is on its way.

Grandparents have the crowning glory of life:

grandchildren!

And it’s only proper for children to take pride in their parents.

It is not proper for a leader to lie and deceive,

and don’t expect excellent words to be spoken by a fool.

Wise instruction is like a costly gem.

It turns the impossible into success.

Love overlooks the mistakes of others,

but dwelling on the failures of others devastates friendships.

One word of correction breaks open a teachable heart,

but a fool can be corrected a hundred times

and still not know what hit him.

Rebellion thrives in an evil man,

so a messenger of vengeance will be sent to punish him.

It’s safer to meet a grizzly bear robbed of her cubs

than to confront a reckless fool.

The one who returns evil for good

can expect to be treated the same way for the rest of his life.

Don’t be one who is quick to quarrel,

for an argument is hard to stop,

and you never know how it will end,

so don’t even start down that road!

There is nothing God hates more

than condemning the one who is innocent

and acquitting the one who is guilty.

Why pay tuition to educate a fool?

For he has no intention of acquiring true wisdom.

A dear friend will love you no matter what,

and a family sticks together through all kinds of trouble.

It’s stupid to run up bills you’ll never be able to pay

or to cosign for the loan of your friend.

Save yourself the trouble and don’t do either one.

If you love to argue,

then you must be in love with sin.

For the one who loves to boast is only asking for trouble.

The one with a perverse heart never has anything good to say,

and the chronic liar tumbles into constant trouble.

Parents of a numskull will have many sorrows,

for there’s nothing about his lifestyle that will make them proud.

A joyful, cheerful heart brings healing to both body and soul.

But the one whose heart is crushed

struggles with sickness and depression.

When you take a secret bribe,

your actions reveal your true character,

for you pervert the ways of justice.

Even the face of a wise man shows his intelligence.

But the wandering eyes of a fool will look for wisdom everywhere

except right in front of his nose.

A father grieves over the foolishness of his child,

and bitter sorrow fills his mother.

It’s horrible to persecute a holy lover of God

or to strike an honorable man for his integrity!

Can you bridle your tongue when your heart is under pressure?

That’s how you show that you are wise.

An understanding heart keeps you cool, calm, and collected,

no matter what you’re facing.

When even a fool bites his tongue

he’s considered wise.

So shut your mouth when you are provoked—

it will make you look smart.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 17 (The Passion Translation)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, november 17, the 56th day of Autumn and day 321 of the year:

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