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dkcdude · 3 months

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Staying Steadfast on the Solid Rock

Renewing a Steadfast Spirit Last week, I wrote about God making us (and all things) new. An ongoing, continuous process. We’re like old-fashioned wooden pencils — God sharpens us and we write nice and cleanly, crisply, again. But over time, we get dull. We get distracted, we lose our focus. We forget about the miracles of parting the Red Sea and manna, and instead focus on our brief and…

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#Call for Renewal and Steadfastness #Christ the firm foundation #Christ the solid rock #God #God creating clean hearts in us #God renewing steadfast spirits in us #Jesus #Psalms 51 #Steadfast spirit

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thankyou-g · 5 months

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“Everything that wasn’t built on a foundation of God will fall.” - YT glowinpeace

#god #firm foundation #jesus #godlymen #godly woman #jesus christ

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yeslordmyking · 2 years

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June, 22 (Evening) Devotion

“That those things which cannot be shaken may remain.”

Hebrews 12:27

We have many things in our possession at the present moment which can be shaken, and it ill becomes a Christian man to set much store by them, for there is nothing stable beneath these rolling skies; change is written upon all things. Yet, we have certain “things which cannot be shaken,” and I invite you this evening to think of them, that if the things which can be shaken should all be taken away, you may derive real comfort from the things that cannot be shaken, which will remain. Whatever your losses have been, or may be, you enjoy present salvation. You are standing at the foot of his cross, trusting alone in the merit of Jesus’ precious blood, and no rise or fall of the markets can interfere with your salvation in him; no breaking of banks, no failures and bankruptcies can touch that. Then you are a child of God this evening. God is your Father. No change of circumstances can ever rob you of that. Although by losses brought to poverty, and stripped bare, you can say, “He is my Father still. In my Father’s house are many mansions; therefore will I not be troubled.” You have another permanent blessing, namely, the love of Jesus Christ. He who is God and Man loves you with all the strength of his affectionate nature—nothing can affect that. The fig tree may not blossom, and the flocks may cease from the field, it matters not to the man who can sing, “My Beloved is mine, and I am his.” Our best portion and richest heritage we cannot lose. Whatever troubles come, let us play the man; let us show that we are not such little children as to be cast down by what may happen in this poor fleeting state of time. Our country is Immanuel’s land, our hope is above the sky, and therefore, calm as the summer’s ocean; we will see the wreck of everything earthborn, and yet rejoice in the God of our salvation.

Daily Bible and Devotional for Women - http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=daily.bible.for.woman

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fearlesswriterblog · 2 months

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I Can Know This...see Psalm 40

Because Christ died on the cross and rose from the dead, I can talk to God, accept His rescue and foundation, sing praises to Him and Have No Fear! Psalm 40 shows us all those things we have in Christ and more. 1 I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire;he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm…

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#accessible God #Christ #firm foundation #Hope #Praises #Rescue #Song #Trust

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northwoodsfan · 3 months

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Building Strong; Building Wise

Fear of the Lord is the foundation of true wisdom. All who obey his commandments will grow in wisdom. Praise him forever! Psalms‬ ‭111‬:‭10‬ I’m not a builder, but my limited knowledge of knowing the process of building tells me that the foundation is, perhaps the most important part of the building. Without a proper foundation, the rest of the building will not withstand the rigors of the…

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#Built with Grace #Daily Devotional #Daily Encouragement #fear #Firm Foundation; Relationship #God #God&039;s love #grace #Holy Spirit #Hope #Jesus #Jesus Christ #love #Mike Fisk #second chances #trust

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andrewpcannon · 1 year

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BUILDING ON THE ROCK

Jesus has been preaching His most popular sermon, what we call the “Sermon on the Mount.” It is the single most important sermon in all of history. It is the centerpiece of Christian living, a sermon we want to plunge the depths of if we want to live significant lives. The entire sermon is important, but I want to take a moment and look at the end. While we look at the end, I want to invite you…

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dwuerch-blog · 2 years

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A Firm Foundation

This blog was inspired by reading my cousins’ FB post a few days ago. They are celebrating their 8th anniversary and Adriane’s words remind me of our faith journey: “Today we celebrate eight years of marriage. EIGHT?!? How can time move so slowly and so quickly at the same time? As I reflect on this past year, what stands out the most is God’s miraculous provision for our family. This past year…

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#blog #christian #firm foundation #fortitude #foundation #inspiration #journey gets sweeter #on christ the solid rock #other ground is sinking sand #Robert Schuller #rock solid #solid rock foundation #struggles #true grit #trusting God #wise man

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thebramblewood · 7 days

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The cat might just murder Lilith before anyone else gets the chance.

Previous / Next

Lilith: Helena. Darling. The sky is rapidly darkening, and you haven’t even begun getting ready.

[cat meows in displeasure, fleeing the scene]

Helena: What the- Hey! I was reading that.

Lilith: Haven’t you read every damn book in this library twice over by now?

Helena: Establishing a firm grasp on the foundations of vampiric history is absolutely vital to learning-

Lilith: All you’ve learned since arriving is how to parrot [raises voice] the incredibly questionable opinions of my infuriatingly pretentious brother.

Helena: That’s not true. I’ve-

Lilith: Class is dismissed! Time for your extracurricular activities. Now, run along and make yourself fit for the outside world. [wrinkles nose disapprovingly] Can you even remember the last time you washed your hair?

Lilith: Christ, you two are attached at the hip. It’s nauseating, truly. You’re certain you’re not trying to steal her from me?

Caleb: Lilith, how could I possibly steal her from you? She doesn't belong to you. She doesn't even trust you — with good reason, I might add. I can hardly help it if she finds me to be far more tolerable company.

Lilith: [rolls eyes] I’m not sure what’s worse, your insufferable pseudo-intellectualism rubbing off on her or her infuriating impertinence rubbing off on you. Either way, I don’t think I like it.

Caleb: And I don’t think I particularly care.

Lilith: Do remember I kindly chose to leave you with your windpipe intact. I can’t guarantee I’ll be feeling so generous next time.

[cat yowls and scrambles across her feet]

[shrieks in frustration] Curse this vile beast! I cannot get a moment’s peace around here anymore!

Caleb: [quietly] Good girl.

[cat purrs contentedly]

Lilith: I heard that!

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #sims 4 story #story: hzid #i'm having so much fun with this cat already lol #love the implication that caleb transformed that overgrown shrub into a perfectly groomed bonsai tree in 15 seconds #i mean that is a good use of one's vampire super speed #lilith whining about caleb's pseudo-intellectualism while speaking in alliterative thesaurus words... girl shut up 🤣#caleb vatore #lilith vatore #helena zhao #drusilla the cat

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odinsblog · 3 months

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This is definitely a trend for the hateful, christofascist, religious reich. Hobby Lobby did the same thing at previous Super Bowls.

It’s right wing, Islamophobic, homophobic, anti-abortion Christian nationalism, masquerading as “caring” religion.

The Servant Foundation: the power behind the ads

The $20 million "He Gets Us" campaign about Jesus - is funded by an influential donor to some of the most active and litigious Shadow Network groups working to undermine church-state separation.

The Servant Foundation

The Servant Foundation, also known as The Signatry, is behind the “He Gets Us” ad campaign that debuted during the 2023 Super Bowl. Over the next three years, the Servant Foundation plans to spend “about a billion dollars” toward this public relations campaign. They’ve hired a PR firm to address, in the firm’s words, the problem of “How did the world’s greatest love story in Jesus become known as a hate group?”

Of course, they’re the cause of their own problem – not only has the Servant Foundation funded hate groups, but the PR firm, Haven, has represented these organizations. Key Shadow Network members Focus on the Family and Alliance Defending Freedom are in their portfolio. ADF is a noted anti-LGBTQ hate group that has argued repeatedly in courts that religion, and specifically Christianity, is a license to discriminate; they have one such case pending before the Supreme Court right now.

The money trail

The Servant Foundation is one of ADF’s biggest financial backers. A recent exposé reports that, “between 2018-20, the Servant Foundation donated more than $50 million to the Alliance Defending Freedom and that those contributions “were among the five largest donations given out by the foundation in each of those three years.”

Other recipients of the Servant Foundation’s billion dollars in assets include:

Nearly $8 million went to Answers in Genesis, creationist Ken Ham’s fundamentalist ministry behind the Creation Museum and Ark Encounter, an organization that has been championed by Speaker of the House Mike Johnson, a former ADF attorney.

Over $1 million was designated for the anti-LGBTQ Campus Crusade for Christ (rebranded as “Cru” since 2011).

$374,800 went to Al Hayat Ministries, an organization that seeks to “respectfully yet fearlessly unveil the deception of Islam,” and runs an Arabic-language Christian satellite TV station with the goal of converting Muslims to Christianity.

In 2020 alone, we found donations to prominent Shadow Network members American Center for Law and Justice, First Liberty Institute, and Liberty Counsel.

(continue reading)

#politics #super bowl #republicans #christian nationalism #lgbt #homophobia #christofascism #religious reich #lgbtq #jesus gets us #the servant foundation #no hate like christian love #the signatry #alliance defending freedom #adf

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

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STORM-FLYING PETRELS (VI)

|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER VII ||

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.9k

WARNINGS: Panic attack, talks about death, guns, anxiety, insomnia & paranoia, angst, alcohol, littering in some heartfelt moments, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your nightmares were getting worse. It was undoubtedly true.

The violent way you’d gasp into awakeness, tears, and sobs stuck on your lips as the large walls of your bedroom left you feeling more alone and isolated than anything. The barriers wouldn’t tighten—they would push out farther until all that remained was you and the bed, solitary and abandoned to darkness. Faces danced as the ghosts out in the hallways did at twilight, faces dripping blood and eyes reflective like a cat’s.

Your father, the people in the park, the man you’d killed.

Your mother, now, too. She stands next to Samson Row like a picture of perfection with a winning smile.

Gripping the damp rag in your hand tighter, you think over the moments after Gaz had told you about your matriarch landing in the States. It was almost comedic, now, the way you’d gone still and blank; bandaged hand loose over the paper with that telling red ink. Eyes boring into the way the Brit’s hand had tightened over his phone.

Not moments prior you’d been mulling over the reality that your father had hidden things from you—how this strange moniker of ‘Chiyou’ rang to something inside of your head—and then another problem hits you. Over and over again it’s like you can’t catch a single break without it all falling to pieces.

Even now, the stupid coffee stain on the dining room table is making your knuckles go thin from how hard you’re pressing. Your body was shivering, cold seeping into your bones even through your jacket. It was only an hour after the events in your dad’s office.

Your teeth grit together, dragging the enamel into a scrape of pure anxiety.

“I didn’t really take you for the stress cleaning type, Love.” Gaz watches you tightly, lips pulled back in concern from across the room. “Why don’t we just sit down and figure this out, yeah?”

“Or you can get the mop and start cleaning the floors.” You grunt, rubbing your shoulder into your cheek.

In the time you’d been washing down the kitchen like a mad woman, you’d gone through four cups of coffee, and the jitters were plainly seen in your form as you jerkily ran back and forth. You'd call it pathetic if you were in the right state of mind.

“Better yet,” you talk like you’re drunk, “get the duster and—”

Your legs had left the table to go and grab the roll of towels on the island, but the world swirls halfway through your rapid pace. There’s a moment when you’re sure the house is tipping on its side, the foundations caving in from under you.

You make a sound in the back of your throat when your legs buckle.

But before you slam to the ground, strong arms wrap around your middle and you can’t even breathe enough to push them off.

“Whoa! Okay, alright,” Gaz holds you, body firm and warm in a way you never could be. “Christ,” He whispers, face stiff. “Easy.”

Half bend over, you stare at the floor as the Brit brings you down slowly to your knees. He crouches in front of you and swiftly places his fingers on your pulse; skin sliding along your neck. You want to gag but have to make your head stop spinning first.

In a moment of shaking lungs, you take down a deep breath. Like a vale, black fabric sits at the edge of your vision.

“Love, I’m going to need you to focus on me, yeah?” Gaz speaks slowly, his tone tight but still shining with worry. “Just listen to me.”

Your eyes burn and your chest is held down by bricks. Kyle’s grip goes to the back of your shoulders as he shifts you over, turning you like a toddler to rest your back against the island. Gasping lowly, your body fights against all normal senses—quivering and sweating at nothing. Your mind was pulsing with…everything.

Devoid of any other option in a state of inner panic, you focus on the feeling of Gaz’s hands rubbing up and down your arms. It’s a few long minutes of borderline hyperventilating until the dim light of the kitchen slowly invades your eyes.

The steady drip of tears makes itself known seconds later. Had you been crying?

“That’s it,” the Brit whispers, tilting his head to you and offering a small, tense, smile. Kyle’s lower face blinks into reality as your clenched hands loosen. Stings of pain echo up your injured palm. “It’s alright, we’re just in the kitchen…” He thins his lips and stops his hand movements; gradually taking his limbs back as you catch your breath.

You clench your jaw against the sting of growing embarrassment.

“Sweetheart…?”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” your voice is shaky and cuts out in places. Kyle looks away and closes his eyes for a moment, shaking his head calmly.

“Don’t need to ask for it,” he grumbles, caution stuck in his throat but being honest. “Take a deep breath.”

You nearly want to spite him and hold your lungs still, but you push aside your stubborn nature and do as he says. Groaning under your breath, your hands go up to your eyes, rubbing into the sockets. After a long moment where you can feel Gaz’s gaze stuck on you as his feet shuffle, you lower your hands and sigh long.

“She can’t see the house like this.” You whisper, genuinely distraught. It’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Kyle’s eyes tighten, and he finds himself not knowing what to say to you. His heart constricts.

Sniffling, you rub at your cheeks, beginning to shove off the floor until firm hands once more snap to your shoulders. They keep you back against the island as you growl and attempt to jerk out of them.

“Would you quit it?” In reality, you don’t want to be here anymore—not in the kitchen, no, near Gaz. Shame makes your stomach roll with nausea. You need to go back to your room; the closed curtains and the dark corners.

Every action that was made near him was laced with agony; a knife stabbed through your chest. Even if his intentions weren’t sinister. You just need to be alone.

“Well, would you bloody sit down, then?” He’s serious about this, his grip not hurting but still tight. Gaz puts one hand atop his head and resituates his hat with a digging of his dark eyes. You glare at his neck with hatred. “I’m askin’ you to take a second, Love. Just let yourself calm down a bit. You’re running yourself ragged over this, yeah? Fuckin’ hell, look at what just happened!”

“It’s nothing!” You snap but know that it’s not the truth. Gaz aggressively shakes his head and looks away with disappointment in his eyes.

He knows it’s not your fault, and in fairness, he’s not disappointed in you at all. He’s disappointed he didn’t have a larger backbone about getting you involved in this. The day you both first met weighs on him every time he looks at you; every time he walks through his decaying house. The remnants of what’s left.

The details in the office are brightly lit in his brain.

Kyle takes a large breath and lets his tension drop instantly. There is an overwhelming amount of mixed concern and confusion that always makes itself known when he’s around you.

Grunting, the Brit shifts on the floor and rests his back on the island right next to you on the floor. He bends one of his knees and rests his elbow over it, scratching at his chin with his fingers before resting his arm completely—letting it hang. You blink over in silent shock, mildly uncomfortable from how close he was.

Strained silence falls as your hand slips into your jacket pocket; fiddling with the coin in its clutches. Your heart still pounds, eyes finicky as they dart from Gaz to the far wall and floor.

Kyle clears his throat as your wounded arm burns.

“How about we make a deal, yeah?” Your fingers pause with their rolling of the coin, but you don’t look over. Gaz tilts his head in your direction and stares at the side of your face—not trying to make you uncomfortable, just wanting to gauge your reaction. He takes a deep breath and, when you don’t reply, continues. “I help you clean, and when I say we take a break, I have to answer one question of your choice.”

That piques your interest, ears twitching up.

In your head you immediately snap back to the events in his room; the warmth of Kyle’s hands as he held and stitched you up with his story about his scars. You don’t know why you can’t stop thinking about it at every other moment.

You hum an acknowledgment, flinching when the chemicals start to turn your hand numb. Gaz lightly shushes you, squeezing your wrist.

Your wrist rolls as you move it in a circle to push back tingles.

Pressing your coin into your palm, you think over Gaz’s proposal as he waits for an answer expectantly. He thinks to himself that if you agree, then he’s one step closer to getting on your good side for the remainder of this protection stint. The Brit prays you just hear him out.

He doesn’t want to admit how much your light-headedness has put a strain on his heart. How fast his eyes had snapped back and his feet darted forward.

“You said your mother was a florist?” You don’t verbally agree or disagree with Gaz’s question, but the inquiry you say into the echoey kitchen is enough to know. It was strange, though, that you were asking a question that you already knew the answer to. As well as with how it was a personal one. But the Sergeant, nonetheless, holds back the pull of his large smile and nods.

“Affirmative. Little place down the street from my childhood home.” You stare at the far wall, and after a second your head slowly angles back so that your head rests on the island behind you.

It must be a sight, the two of you on the floor of a dusty and barren kitchen. You can’t find the strength right now to get up and stalk away. Kyle rubs the back of his neck and is surprised by your follow-up.

“What’s she like?” His brown eyes widen a smidge as he looks at your blanks and placid face. Voice small like a bird.

“Uh,” the Sergeant falters, but recovers quickly, “she’s…nice, good, even. I’ve not spoken to her for a bit, but she’s…” Gaz halts for a moment, blinking, “...she’s just about everything you could ask for and more. Taught me well.” He ends his sentence with a dismissing huff.

You feel your gut tighten, but hum in response.

Kyle wonders if it’s his curiosity or his determination that makes him speak next, “What about yours, then?” Your body tightens back up immediately and he scrambles. “N-not in a personal way, just…you speak fondly of them, your parents, I mean.”

Most of the time.

Licking your lips, you wonder if it’s really necessary to answer. But it had been so long since you’d had someone to speak to. Kyle had been slowly worming his way into the remnants of your everyday routine like a parasite; finding its home in the body of your family's estate.

There were a large number of negative emotions attached to this Brit, yet still, once you’d opened the gates of your mouth, there was little chance of stopping. He’d taken a screwdriver and was working away since he’d saved you that day in the park.

“They loved each other.” You settle with, hearing Gaz sigh in relief to see you weren’t going to snap and stalk off. “My mother was always with my father—they did everything together. She was more strict than him; wanted me to go into something with more prospects than follow Dad into a history degree. But…” You think, coin-face leaving indents into your flesh. Whatever damage had been done to your injured palm had slowed its heated pulse. “...Seady,” Kyle listens intently. “She was steady. Like a rock.”

Something akin to pain bleeds into your face and the man keeps himself from putting a hand on your shoulder in comfort.

“I guess she just couldn’t handle it when he died. Needed to get away.” While you had dug your heels in and stayed stationary, she’d gone off and taken a shift overseas. To forget or to find something more, you never asked. When she was gone, you really couldn’t say much changed.

After all, that entire first year was a blur of black and red.

You take a shallow breath and pull your hands from your pockets. “Can’t say I blame her. Just… nervous about seeing her again.”

This was more than Kyle expected. His brows were slightly higher on his face, eyelids curved. He clears his throat slightly, looking away quickly. Guilt, as it seems to do a lot recently, builds on his shoulders like a castle of stone.

He never should have agreed to that damned interrogation, but how was he to know that Row would pull the trigger for no reason?

Hell, was that even an excuse?

“...I’m sorry, Love,” he says, and your breath stops with mounting pressure inside of your throat.

Your head slowly turns his way and you stare at the space where his stubble is taunt under his nose.

“What…?” He barely hears the words.

Kyle’s head fully turns your way but you don’t balk back when his brown orbs graze the side of your vision—so nearly looking into them but still so far. Eyes are wide and nearly frightened in expression by the words that had just entered your eardrums.

Kyle speaks up, “I said I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I never should have bloody played along with the bastard plan. It wasn’t right. I’m not asking you to forgive me, I just…need you to know that, y’know?”

Face burning, you open and close your mouth; vision darting from random points on the Sergeant’s face until you snap your head away in a flurry of tight lips and shaking shoulders. You burn holes into the far wall but look more anxious than anything.

Your lungs get tight and your nose feels like you’re breathing in needles, but you refuse to cry in front of this man again. No matter how much the words were like a bucket of cold water to your scalp.

You can never forgive him for what he helped do—for the gun and the bag over your head; the death and trauma—but you’d never even expected an apology. It…it meant something, but what that was, you weren’t quite sure.

All you do is shrug brokenly.

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine,” Kyle tries to comfort you. “It’s been what? Around three years since you’ve seen her? Well,” he chuckles lightly, “I’m sure the first thing she’ll do is give you a bloody huge hug. Lift you off the ground and all.”

You scoff, finding your breath. “She was never a hugger, Garrick.”

“People change, wanna wager on it?” Your brows turn into a line. “A ten.”

“No.”

“Ah, c’mon!”

“No!” You growl at a smirking Sergeant as he tilts his head back and laughs, hat-brim sticking out from his head. He raises his hand in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Point taken, then.” Rolling your eyes, you huff and rub at your eyes aggressively. While some of your nerves had left, the sheen of it still lived in the lines on your forehead. The air wafts back into that strange tension and delicate sanctity.

“My own father,” Gaz starts slowly, measuring words. “Was in the service. A soldier.” His arm moves up and he shifts it so it hovers above your lap. His wristwatch glints and after a dim hesitance, you carefully reach out a hand to touch the material; tiling it towards you. Your eyes slide over it as Kyle’s face softens, his tone easy. “I took after him, too. Tough luck I never managed to grow a green thumb, probably would have saved me some soiled clothes.”

You puff air from your nose.

“Can’t see you retiring to the garden anytime soon, unfortunately.” Gaz smiles and takes his arm back tactfully.

“Hm,” the man settles back and sighs. “No, probably not, Ma’am. Just hope I don’t end up like he did.”

At your angled head and glimmering eyes, he continues, “Fell in the line of duty when I was ‘bout as tall as a table. My Mum never wanted me to go chasing after his memory—we don’t talk much because of it.”

It was the way you could mirror yourself into Kyle’s own childhood that really struck you, but as your brain went a mile a minute you rolled it back into focus. You can think about that later, but right now you just wanted to try and understand the way you were feeling.

“Why are you telling me this, Kyle?” You whisper. The Brit’s hand comes up to rub at his neck.

“Because I feel like you need someone to talk to,” he hums. “Even if you don’t like ‘em.”

The tease is evident in his tone.

You don’t like that he splays your emotions out like this—knows that something’s wrong even if it’s entirely obvious. He talks about it, and that's entirely foreign to you. Three years of solitude with no one to utter to but your professors and Hector. Only one of those you could consider somewhat of a friend, really. Hector listened when you ranted and seemed to at least care about you to a moderate degree. He had two girls after all, and although you’d never met them, you knew they were good kids. Loved.

Hector was all you had, and you told him nearly everything.

And now…well…now Kyle wants you to talk? Part of you wanted to chuck a coffee mug at his head.

You shake your head, walls going back up.

“Keep your end of the bargain, Garrick. Go get the mop.” Brown eyes sadly watch after you as your arms shove you up. Standing, you rub at your eyes and snatch the paper towels from the island counter like they had personally wronged you.

Kyle hums under his breath and shakes his head, fixes his cap, and pushes up to follow.

—

You speak again far later, and despite his comments about not becoming the cook of the mansion, you can’t fight him in the fact that his food was good. And you both had to eat, regardless.

Sitting in the back library, you place the plate of Gnocchi with creamed spinach down with a clack as you push aside the bottle of disinfectant spray. The white sheet that had been around the furniture was ripped back some minutes ago to show a luxurious chaise lounge of navy tufted fabric and a small side table. Your mother’s favorite pieces in the house, ironically. Gaz is already eating, standing near the fireplace in the center of the wide and extravagant room.

He looks around every so often at the scores of books and ladders that extend to the ceiling. Everything about this house, he thinks to himself, is the definition of old money.

“All we need to pull this together,” Kyle licks at the side of his mouth and smiles as he says, “Is a nice bottle of Fiano, eh?” He laughs, “Don’t suppose you have a wine cellar, Ma’am? I’d say you deserve it after a day like today.”

Your form pauses momentarily when bringing the fork to your lips, but you continue with a blink and say, easily, “Cellar? Yeah, but don’t plan on anything being down there. It’s all gone.”

Gaz tilts his head, bringing his own fork to his lips and chewing. “That’s a right shame. Would have paired nicely.”

You place your utensil down in exasperation and glare at his throat. “You are the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”

Kyle’s expression goes mock offended. “Hey!” He humphs, “If you keep letting me cook then I’m going to do my bloody best!”

“There’s incriminating evidence in my father’s office and you’re worried about wine?”

“I’m not worried,” Gaz points the fork at you as you shake your head and get to eating. “I said it would pull it together. There’s a damn difference, Love.”

You can’t believe this is the man that’s living in your home. Helping you clean; keeping you from being shot—talking about wine. It’s a miracle you haven't killed him at this point.

“Tough luck,” you grumble, chewing. “There’s none left. Suffer alone.”

“Well, that’s just uncalled for, that is,” Gaz utters, getting the last piece of flooded potato and sticking it in his mouth. The smirk in his words is evident. But the weight of your previous words stands, and you get into the next topic swiftly.

“I need to go into my father's old office in the museum, Garrick.” The man’s arm stills from where he tilts his plate to get some of the spinach onto his fork. His shoulders tighten immediately.

“Negative,” the Brit’s voice echoes. “Not happening, Ma’am. We’ll get someone else on it.”

No one else knows my father. There’s a part of you that knows that no one else can figure this out as you can.

Red ink, copied signatures, that blasted moniker. It’s a literal trail of bodies that you need to piece together for this to make the painting you’re working on—brushstroke by brushstroke.

In your heart you know there’s more going on. Your father wasn’t what people are telling you, even if he knew things that sullied his image. This wasn’t right.

“Gaz,” you try not to let your anger show at this—growing tired of the constant fights. “This isn’t something that I can compromise on.” Kyles stares and sets his jaw.

“I’m not letting you leave his mansion, Ma’am. For yourself and for others.” He takes a breath. “Let my mates handle it; Laswell’s already got a unit together. They’re rechecking the docks and the museum by your counsel soon. Spoke to her just after I got news of your mum coming back.”

Soon wasn’t soon enough. You don’t know why, but unease hits your stomach. The house had always felt like it had ears on it, but when you were talking about stuff like this it seemed alive. The curtains sway with the AC, the wood creaks more. It’s horrible.

Or maybe it was just because Gaz was living here. But it just felt like….eyes.

“Kyle,” you try to stay the venom from your tongue. Anyone can tell you’re strained. “I’m asking nicely, here.”

“And you said you would listen to me, Love.” The Brit rubs at his forehead. “I’m not doing this to be difficult, truly.” A long sigh exits, a tired but honest one. He wishes you’d look him in the eyes so he can make you understand he only wants what’s best for you. The way you’d been after the shooting…Gaz’s hands remember the tightness of elastic as he stitched you back up—you’re vacant gaze. He can’t have that happen again. “I’m keeping you alive if you could only stay here. This house is secure, and if we go into a potentially target-rich environment, I have no say in what could happen to you, yeah?”

You knew this, of course you did, but so much had been discovered in so little time.

“Sergeant, I—”

“No, Ma’am. That’s an order. We’re staying here and that’s final.” It seemed whatever strange feelings from the kitchen and office are far gone now. Kyle’s face is like stone, and you stare at his scars with returning resentment. Could he not see how much this meant to you? No, how could he? All he does is follow his fucking orders.

Your teeth snap around the food on the end of your utensil, sliding off the metal as you think. Letting fire flare in your gaze, you glare at the plate and say nothing else. Angry, but not defeated.

Kyle and you go back into a highly uncomfortable silence. Closing his eyes, the man twitches his nose as his legs shift from under him. Suddenly the brick of the fireplace is grating to feel against his athletic shit.

He grunts and shovels his last bit into his mouth as you stand—food only half-eaten.

Brown eyes stare as you stalk out of the room, hand clenched around your plate. When you’re out of sight, Gaz lets out, “Christ…just fucking brilliant.”

But he wasn’t about to tell you that you could leave; you can sulk all you want, but that’s not changing his opinion.

You stomp through the immediate hallway like a child, playing your part perfectly. Once you are far enough away, your feet speed up to a light jog and carry you to the front door. You open it and place the entire thing on the front step; a backend form darts out from the bushes and hisses.

You harshly whisper into slitted eyes, “Oh, step off, you temperamental demon.” The door shuts and you race up to your room—bounding up the foyer stairs two at a time, knowing exactly where to place your weight to make sure the steps won't creak.

Entering the blackened room, you close the door and lock it with deft fingers. Looking at the clock, you engrain the time of seven-fifteen to memory and resolve to be back by midnight. Gaz makes his first round at eight, but he won’t bother you if you’re pissed as you intended to make it seem. From then it’s twelve and then at four.

If you can get back in before he does that middle-of-the-night search, you’d be golden.

You rush to your curtains, peeling them back and blinking at the water spots on the glass behind them. Shaking your head, you unlatch the lock and look down at the two-story drop into bushes as you push aside the window with a slow squeal of hinges.

“I’m getting answers,” you whisper stubbornly. No Sergeant would stop that. Backing up from the frame, you feel the chilled breeze and pull your jacket tighter against the nighttime air.

Licking your lips, your eyes slide to the curtain wrack and your brain sparks with mischief. But before you do anything reckless or admittingly dumb, you turn with a serious expression to the nightstand that you stare at, morning after morning.

A moment of a rapid pulse passes in tight silence before you walk over.

With a small quiver in your finger, you place your hand on the brass handle like it could snap at you with merciless teeth. It stays there as you dig your eyes into the wood, searing it with purpose, that cold, lifeless metal in your tensed grip. With a grit of your teeth, you let it drop numbly, shaking your head. You grab your wallet and phone instead, stuffing them into your pocket, and shuffling away.

“Don’t need it,” your low voice reasons aloud, a hidden object swiftly leaving your consciousness.

Dragging your desk chair over to the tall curtains, you grasp a hold of the metal rod that holds them with trapped breath, reaching on your tiptoes carefully. Puffing out breaths, you unhook it after the third try with a mute chuckle. A smirk takes residence on your face.

Getting down on unsteady feet, you accidentally knock the hard material directly into the wall with a loud slam as your legs shift too quickly.

You freeze in an instant, ears strained and eyes wide. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you stand holding the rod, those navy curtains a swell of the deep sea at your feet.

Body ready to bolt, you take thin breaths before you realize nothing else is moving in the house. Letting out a long and slow breath, you move backward.

Setting the rod across the opening of the window frame parallel, it stands in as an anchor as you feel your backside connect with the bottom wall. Focusing, you lift one leg and twist your spine to leave you straddling the frame with nervous pulses in your veins. Ducking your head, you move your grip to the curtains and grab them tightly, muscles straining.

In a moment of courage, you say, “C’mon, I can do this…” and place one foot on the outside frame. The wood groans and sinks in, but you don’t let it scare you off. This had to be done. With a deep breath, you lean back with tightly closed eyes.

Except you don’t fall.

Lids pulling back, you stare at where your feet dig into the frame and how your hands hold the curtains—held themselves by the rod on the inside of your room that spans far more than the window's size. Your entire body is at an angle, hair swishing behind you due to gravity.

“Holy hell,” You can’t help but utter, chuckling.

Moving one foot back, you place it firmly to the side of your house as you scale backward down to the ground with sliding hands. The long curtain rod holds tight.

In mere minutes, your feet hit down and you stumble before letting the curtain slowly go—far above hearing the slight ping of the thing hitting the floor at the loss of tension. With a smile on your lips, you dart away into the back garden before Gaz can even question the noise coming from your room.

All that’s left are the curtains whipping in the breeze.

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thankyou-g · 4 months

Text

”We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ,“

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭10‬:‭5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

#god #jesus #godly woman #godlymen #jesus christ #christian #jesuschrist #godly notes #know Christ #firm foundation #obey god #obey Christ

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rucbarthatbowtiesarecooldw · 1 month

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Sunday Afternoon Session

Conducting: Quentin L Cook

Come Rejoice

D Todd Christofferson

A limiting trait is not being valiant in your testimony

Wholehearted devotion is what we should strive for

To make it to and stay in the Celestial Kingdom we must have a firm testimony of Jesus Christ and act on that testimony

Being Valiant in your testimony of Christ

Includes nurturing and strengthening that testimony

Heading His messengers

Encouraging others by word and example

We will not let anything keep us from being together forever

Do the things Jesus shall teach and command you

Taylor G Godoy

God hears our prayers and answers them in a personalized way

Mosiah 5:12

This life by its nature brings about experiences

Call Him, don’t fall

Just because you aren’t answered immediately doesn’t mean your call wasn’t answered at all

Confidence in the Lord’s answers requires accepting that they are not always what would expect in our minds for them to be.

The Lord is the first option for help

Call Don’t Fall (pray)

After prayer do all you can to obtain the answers you pray for

Humbly accept His answers

Softly and Tenderly, Jesus is Calling

Gary E Stevenson

Where is the foundation of your bridge?

The two towers are love the Lord thy God and love your neighbor as thyself – these are the towers that the bridge of the gospel is supported by

Loving the Lord leads to eternal Happiness

Bridges our heavenly upward gaze to our heavenly outward gaze

Love of the Lord is not complete if we do not love our neighbors

Loving your neighbors includes Christlike deeps of love and service

How are you building your tower of love?

“did God call on you specifically, or were you simply the one who listened?”

These towers need to function together in balance, equal devotion, and harmony

God loves everyone and so should we; we seek out those in need and serve them regardless of race, wealth, gender identity, sexual orientation, or anything else

God commanded us to love one another. Leave judgement up to Him

How do we build our own bridge of faith and devotion?

Early drafts become polished blueprints

Mathias Held

Consequences are a part of agency

Repentance is where growth happens

Seek to learn and accept support from the Lord

In the darkness of night we can turn on our lights

We can still choose how to respond to things out of our control

We are agents not objects.

Opposites don’t exist apart from each other, they can complement each other.

Where there is sunshine, shadows must be there too. Floods brings destruction but they bring life as well

Our difficulties do not define us – it is our attitudes and choices that define us much better than our situations

How Firm a Foundation

Niel L Anderson

It is breathtaking to see the works of God

Discipline your faith, what does that mean to you?

Eleazer Cearcy – sealing story – this is why listen to promptings

Angels have charge over us

Through the power of the Holy Ghost we are filled with strength and peace and joy and unspeakable hope.

Many different ways to see the face of Christ and no better place than in His holy house

Mark L Pace

Transform our homes into sanctuaries of faith

The scriptures are here to help us draw closer to Him

How can you avoid personal apostasy?

We are responsible for our own personal spiritual growth

The most important copy of the book of Mormon is the one you read

Heavenly Father wants you to know yourself – but you must put in the effort

Russell M Nelson

Called to apostles 40 years ago!

Six temples when he was born

Ponder what the Lord’s promise means for you personally

The priesthood was restored prior to the church – to ensure that the church could be organized with the correct authority

The priesthood keys are the only way we get the essential ordinances and covenants, the only way we can have blessings the way we do – we can extend all the blessings promised to/by Abraham to all God’s children

D&C 110

The gathering of Israel is evidence God loves all of His children everywhere

The gospel of Abraham is further evidence that God loves all of His children everywhere

The sealing power is supreme evidence that God loves all of His children everywhere and wants them to return to Him

Study Kirtland temple dedicatory prayer in D&C 109

Regular temple worship will enhance how you see yourself

The temple empowers us to take on the challenges of life

You do not have to face life alone

What courage does it give you to know that angels really will help you?

No combination of wickedness will prevail over those who worship in the house of the Lord

Nothing will help you more to hold fast to the iron rod than attending the temple as regularly as you can, nothing will protect you more, nothing will bolster your testimony of Christ and His atonement, or recognize the significance of His plan, nothing will soothe your spirit more, nothing will open the blessings of Heavens more

15 temples:

Uturoa, French Polynesia

Chihuahua, Mexico

Florianopolis, Brazil

Rosario, Argentina

Edinburgh, Scotland

Brisbane, Australia South Area

Victoria, British Colombia

Yuma, Arizona

Houston, Texas South Area

Des Moines, Iowa

Cincinnati, Ohio

Honolulu Hawaii

West Jordan Utah

Lehi Utah

Maracaibo, Venezuela

Now Let Us Rejoice

#genconf #tumblrstake #ldsconf #general conference #church of jesus christ of latter day saints #temples

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hopethroughscriptureministries · 1 month

Text

House Built on a Strong Foundation:

Spiritual Wisdom

Today we bring to you a parable that Jesus shared with his disciples—a story of profound spiritual insight that speaks to the very foundation of our faith. It is the parable of the House Built on a Strong Foundation.

Imagine a wise builder who set out to construct a house. He carefully selected a site and began laying the foundation, digging deep into the bedrock and ensuring its stability. With meticulous care, he built upon this foundation, layer by layer, crafting a sturdy and enduring structure.

Now, picture another builder who, in contrast, was hasty and careless in his construction. He chose a site without considering its stability and began building without laying a firm foundation. Instead, he built upon the shifting sands, neglecting to secure his structure against the elements.

As time passed, storms arose, lashing against both houses with fierce winds and torrents of rain. The house built on the strong foundation stood firm, its walls unshaken and its roof unyielding. But the house built on the shifting sands could not withstand the onslaught; it crumbled and fell, its ruins scattered by the tempest.

What does this parable teach us, dear friends? It is a metaphor for the life of faith. The wise builder represents those who hear the words of Jesus and put them into practice, building their lives upon the solid foundation of his teachings (Matthew 7:24-25). They anchor their faith in the unchanging truth of God's Word, rooted deeply in Christ.

On the other hand, the foolish builder symbolizes those who hear the words of Jesus but do not act upon them. They build their lives upon the shifting sands of worldly pursuits and fleeting pleasures, lacking the firm foundation of faith (Matthew 7:26-27). When trials come, their faith is tested, and they find themselves without the strength to withstand the storms of life.

Let us heed the wisdom of this parable and examine the foundation upon which we are building our lives. Are we anchored in Christ, standing firm upon the rock of salvation (Psalm 18:2)? Or are we building upon the shifting sands of worldly wisdom and human strength?

As followers of Christ, let us strive to be like the wise builder, diligently laying a strong foundation of faith and obedience to God's Word. Let us build our lives upon the firm foundation of Jesus Christ, our Rock and Redeemer (1 Corinthians 3:11). And when the storms of life rage against us, we can rest assured that our house will stand, for it is built upon the unshakable truth of God's promises (Psalm 46:1-3).

May this parable inspire us to build our lives upon the strong foundation of faith in Christ, that we may withstand the trials of this world and inherit the eternal blessings of God's kingdom. Amen.

Broader Context:

Parable of the Wise and Foolish Builders (Luke 6:46-49):

This parable directly correlates with the concept of building upon a strong foundation.

Foundation of Christ (1 Corinthians 3:11):

"For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ."

Building on Solid Rock (Matthew 7:24-27):

Jesus teaches about the importance of building one's life on a solid foundation, likening it to a wise man who built his house on the rock.

Christ as the Chief Cornerstone (Ephesians 2:19-22):

"So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit."

Stability in God's Word (Psalm 18:2):

"The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."

The Foundation of Faith and Obedience (Hebrews 11:6):

"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him."

The Firm Foundation of God's Word (2 Timothy 3:16-17):

"All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work."

Rooted and Built Up in Christ (Colossians 2:6-7):

"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness."

The Cornerstone Rejected by the Builders (Psalm 118:22):

"The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone."

The Importance of Spiritual Growth (2 Peter 1:5-8):

"For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ."

Questions:

What aspects of my life am I currently building upon? Are they rooted in the solid foundation of faith and obedience to God's Word, or are they founded on the shifting sands of worldly pursuits and human wisdom?

How can I ensure that my spiritual foundation remains strong and unwavering amidst the storms of life? What practices, disciplines, or habits can I cultivate to deepen my relationship with Christ and strengthen my faith?

In what areas of my life do I see evidence of a weak or unstable foundation? What steps can I take to address these areas and rebuild upon the firm foundation of God's truth and promises?

Am I actively seeking wisdom and guidance from God's Word as I navigate the decisions and challenges of life? How can I align my thoughts, actions, and priorities with the principles of God's Kingdom, ensuring that I am building a life that honors and glorifies Him?

Prayer:

Heavenly Father,

We come before you with hearts full of gratitude for the wisdom and guidance you offer us through your Word. Thank you for teaching us the importance of building our lives upon the strong foundation of faith in Christ.

Lord, we acknowledge that we often stray from this firm foundation, seeking security and fulfillment in the fleeting pleasures of this world. Forgive us, O God, for the times when we have neglected to anchor our lives in your truth and grace.

As we reflect on the parable of the house built on a strong foundation, we are reminded of your steadfast love and faithfulness. Help us, Lord, to continually seek your wisdom and guidance, that we may build our lives upon the unshakable rock of your salvation.

Grant us the strength and courage to withstand the storms of life, knowing that you are our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble (Psalm 46:1). May our faith remain unwavering, our hope secure, and our love steadfast, grounded in the unchanging truth of your Word.

As we go forth from this moment, empower us to be faithful builders, constructing our lives in accordance with your will and purpose. May our actions and attitudes reflect the firm foundation of our faith in Christ, shining as beacons of your love and grace in a world in need of your redeeming light.

In Jesus' name, we pray.

Amen.

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