Bethel Quotes

Good people don't bow their heads and bite their tongues while other good people suffer. Good people are not complicit.

True Evil...wore the skin of good men. It uttered prayers, not curses. It feigned mercy where there was only malice. It studied Scriptures only to spit out lies.

People do foolish, reckless things when they’re desperate to find ways to escape themselves.

To be woman is to be a sacrifice.

He shot forward, clasping my cheeks. “Say it again.” “Say what?” I replied, gripping his wrists. “I said a lot of things. Help me out here.” "Say that I'm not just the Apollyon," he whispered, his voice harsh. Tears built in my throat. "You're not just the Apollyon, Seth." His eyes drifted shut, his face tensed as his fingers splayed across my cheeks. "I don't even know who I am anymore. Or what I ever was." Oh goodness, that ripped right through my chest. "You're just...you're just Seth." A tremor moved through his arms. "And you...you're just my salvation.

You’re a demigod,” he said hoarsely. It was the first thing he said. “Yeah,” I replied, my voice breathy. “Is that…um, okay with you?” His gaze flicked up to mine, and he arched a brow. “Do I need to kiss you again?” My lips twitched. “Maybe.

I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Guess what?” “What?” Meeting his amber-colored eyes, I admitted what probably wasn’t a secret, but what I felt like I needed to put into words. “I like you, Seth.” He stopped his hand over mine, staying there, as he gave me a lopsided smile. “Guess what?” “What?” I whispered. Seth shifted so that his lips brushed mine as he spoke. “I like you too, Josie.

Josie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she glanced up the hall. “You ready?” I nodded and we started down the hall and we made it halfway before I did something totally cheesy. I reached between us, found her hand without looking, and threaded my fingers through her. She looked up, surprise flickering over her expression, but then she smiled, and yeah, that smile was worth it.

This was the great shame of Bethel: complacency and complicity that were responsible for the deaths of generations of girls. It was the sickness that placed the pride of men before the innocents they were sworn to protect. It was a structure that exploited the weakest among them for the benefit of those born to power.

A man who knows his past is a man with the power to choose his future.

Isn't it strange how reading a book is a sin, but locking a girl in the stocks and leaving her to the dogs is another day of the Good Father's work?

Reading was one of the few things she felt she was truly good at, one of the few things she prided herself on.

I have seen the Beast and her maidens again. I hear their cries in the woods at night. They call to me, and I call to them. There is no love as pure as that.

Pulling my hand away, he rose, slanting his head to kiss me deeply as he pushed me onto my back, with his weight draped over me. “I’ve never had anything that was my own,” he said against my mouth. “Nothing that was ever for just me and no one else. I’ve never been anyone’s first.” He kissed me and then lifted his head. I stared into his eyes. “I’ve never been anyone’s only.” That made my heart ache for him as I raised my hand, pressing my palm against his cheek. “You’re my first,” I whispered. “You’re…you’re my only.” His lips parted. “You can’t say that and not mean it.” I held his gaze as my chest swelled. “I mean it.” He smoothed his thumb over my lip. “I really am a lucky son of a bitch.

You were born to be amazing.

Shared or spilled, it seemed that blood did not matter as much as appearance did. And so, no matter how many centuries passed, no matter what they rendered in service of Bethel's betterment, it seemed the Outskirters would always be consigned to the fringes.

Working for love is a curse. Working from love is a ministry.

Sometimes I think we share a soul. His pain has become mine. And mine his.

Today, we choose mercy." The flock answered her as one. "Now and forevermore.

At Evensong one night, while Holly played at sax and Mrs. Bethel Utemeyer joined in, I saw him: Holiday, racing past a fluffy white Samoyed. He had lived to a ripe old age on earth and slept at my father's feet after my mother left, never wanting to let him out of his sight... I waited for him to sniff me out, anxious to know if here, on the other side, I would still be the little girl he slept beside. I did not have to wait long: he was so happy to see me, he knocked me down.

You have not been put on earth for the devil to torment you, you have been put on this earth to torment the devil.

I love him. He taught me how. I don't think I knew how to choose to love until I met him.

If you watch what you think about, you won't have to watch what you talk about.

When you forget who you are and whose you are, you start to compromise.

It's almost the witching hour,' said Martha, and a bitter smile touched her lips. 'Perhaps that's what the Prophet should have named this wretched year. It's more fitting, don't you think? The Year of the Witching.

A terrifying affliction had infested America’s small towns and suburbs: the school shooter. We knew it because we had seen it on TV. We had read about it in the newspapers. It had materialized inexplicably two years before. In February 1997, a sixteen-year-old in remote Bethel, Alaska, brought a shotgun to high school and opened fire. He killed the principal and a student and injured two others. In October, another boy shot up his school, this time in Pearl, Mississippi. Two dead students, seven wounded. Two more sprees erupted in December, in remote locales: West Paducah, Kentucky, and Stamps, Arkansas. Seven were dead by the end of the year, sixteen wounded.

This was the great shame of Bethel: complacency and complicity that were responsible for the deaths of generations of girls. It was the sickness that placed the pride of men before the innocents they were sworn to protect. It was a structure that exploited the weakest among them for the benefit of those born to power.

When he arrived at the town of Bethel, he was teased by a group of boys who called him “baldy.” Elisha responded to their taunts by summoning a team of wild she-bears. The bears mauled the boys to death, leaving the bloody remains of forty-two children littered on the ground.  Nobody knows why Elisha didn’t just summon a full head of hair.

Alexander moved her off him, laid her down, was over her, was pressed into her, crushing her. Anthony was right there, he didn't care, he was trying to inhale her, trying to absorb her into himself. "All this time you were stepping out in front of me, Tatiana," he said. "Now I finally understand. You hid me on Bethel Island for eight months. For two years you hid me and deceived me - to save me. I am such an idiot," he whispered. "Wretch or not, ravaged or not, in a carapace or not, there you still were, stepping out for me, showing the mute mangled stranger your brave and indifferent face." Her eyes closed, her arms tightened around his neck. "That stranger is my life," she whispered. They crawled away from Anthony, from their only bed, onto a blanket on the floor, barricading themselves behind the table and chairs. "You left our boy to go find me, and this is what you found..." Alexander whispered, on top of her, pushing inside her, searching for peace. Crying out underneath him, Tatiana clutched his shoulders. "This is what you brought back from Sachsenhausen." his movement was tense, deep, needful. Oh God. Now there was comfort. "You thought you were bringing back him, but Tania, you brought back me." "Shura...you'll have to do..." Her fingers were clamped into his scars. "In you," said Alexander, lowering his lips to her parted mouth and cleaving their flesh, "are the answers to all things." All the rivers flowed into the sea and still the sea was not full.

So many of us have believed that we need to labor and perform for God so that we can gain an identity, so that we might be accepted. But in the Kingdom, we start off accepted.

You’re…you’re mentally unstable.” “I wish I were. It would make things so much more fun. Sadly, I’m not. At least, not yet.

Destiny, you need to learn something. Rules are made to be broken.” My mouth almost unhinged itself from sheer disbelief. “Hannah, we could get in big trouble.” “Not if we don’t get caught,” she said with a naughty grin. With that kind of attitude, I didn’t see how Hannah was going to last three months at Bethel. These people were all about rules, and strict ones at that.

Pain carved through her belly and a great roaring filled her ears as the shadows rose around her. The last thing Immanuelle saw, before the night swallowed her, was the bright of the moon, winking through the trees.

I promise you that the discovery of your True Self will feel like a thousand pounds of weight have fallen from your back. You will no longer have to build, protect, or promote any idealized self image. Living in the True Self is quite simply a much happier existence, even though we never live there a full twenty-four hours a day. But you henceforth have it as a place to always go back to. You have finally discovered the alternative to your False Self. You are like Jacob awakening from sleep and joining the chorus of mystics in every age. “You were here all along, and I never knew it!” he says (Genesis 28:16). He anoints the stone pillow where this happened and names it Bethel, or “the house of God and gate of heaven” (28:17–18).4 Jacob then carries the presence with him wherever he goes. What was first only there is soon everywhere. The gate of heaven is first of all in one concrete place, better if carried with you, and best when found everywhere. That is the progression of the spiritual life.

There were wreaths of wildflowers, tokens and tributes, even a small pair of children’s shoes hanging from a fence post by the laces - as though someone believed the child they belonged to might one day emerge from the trees to claim them. These relics were all that remained of those who were lost to the Darkwood. For what the forest took it rarely returned.

We are fortunate to serve a God who loves new life and second chances.

It is easy to die for what you believe. What is hard is to live for what you believe.

Faith doesn’t deny a problem’s existence. It denies a problem a place of influence.

In that moment, she remembered Chris Bethel, pre-transition, playing Viola in Twelfth Night like a person who knew what it was to be shipwrecked on a strange shore. Good for him.

God said to Jacob, “Arise, go up to  bBethel and dwell there. Make an altar there to the God who appeared to you  cwhen you fled from your brother Esau.

15So Jacob called the name of the place where God had spoken with him  uBethel.

Their pain was the great shame of the Father’s faith, and all of Bethel shared in it.

Better to take sin upon . . . one’s own shoulders . . . than allow harm . . . to befall others. Sometimes a person . . . has an obligation . . . to act in the interest of the . . . greater good.

28Thus Jehu wiped out Baal from Israel. 29But Jehu did not turn aside from  mthe sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat,  nwhich he made Israel to sin—that is, the golden calves that were in Bethel and in Dan.

I didn’t have any father to reach out to me. The persons who tried to steer me in the right direction, were the persons on the street and I still went the wrong way. Franco ‘Co’ Bethel, former gang leader and right hand man to Scrooge.

In the Scriptures and the stories, in the stained-glass windows of the cathedral or the paintings that hung from its stone walls, the angels always looked like Leah: golden-haired and blue-eyed, dressed in fine silks and satins, with full cheeks and skin as pale as river pearls. As for the girls like Immanuelle—the ones from the Outskirts, with dark skin and raven-black curls, cheekbones as keen as cut stone—well, the Scriptures never mentioned them at all. There were no statues or paintings rendered in their likeness, no poems or stories penned in their honor. They went unmentioned, unseen.

The twisting motion stopped, because my stomach bottomed out. “South Dakota? I’m not even sure I can point out where South Dakota is on a map.” The slight curve of his lips appeared again. “It’s between nothing-there-interests-me and land-of-the-great-nothing.

34 In his days Hiel the Beth-elite built Jericho: he laid the foundation of it with the loss of Abiram his first-born, and set up the gates of it with the loss of his youngest son Segub, according to the word of Yahweh, which he spoke by Yahshua the son of Nun.

It was not the Prophet who bore Bethel, bound to his back like a millstone. It was all of the innocent girls and women—like Miriam and Leah—who suffered and died at the hands of men who exploited them. They were Bethel’s sacrifice. They were the bones upon which the Church was built.

... the Scripture is like one big, unbroken story about people who decided to follow God and ended up failing almost as much as they succeeded. After God told Abraham that he was going to have millions of kids, the old man literally laughed in God's face. Jacob was a lying cheat before he met God at Bethel. And he was a lying cheat afterward too. These are two of Israel's greatest patriarchs. Moses was a murderer, a doubter, an excuse-maker. he was chosen to lead God's people out of slavery. David was "a man after God's own heart." But he was also an adulterer. His son, Solomon, was the wisest man who ever lived. But he had hundreds of wives. And Jesus' disciples were all flawed in their own way - from Thomas, the doubter, to Peter, the hothead. With such a long list of people who both followed God and stumbled constantly, why would we assume our experiences would be any different?

How did he do that?” Alex stumbled to her feet with Aiden’s aid, swaying to one side. Both looked okay. “How did he do that?” I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know how Seth had tapped into all of us without even touching us. My gaze finally fell on Solos. “Oh gods,” I whispered, quickly averting my gaze. What Atlas had whispered in my dream the night before had also been right. Dig a grave. He was . . . I closed my eyes, biting down on my lower lip until I tasted blood. Pain opened in my chest, overshadowing the physical aches that bit and chewed at me. Solos was gone. Him falling had tipped Seth over an edge, a very precarious edge I hadn’t even realized he’d been teetering on this . . . this entire time. I was numb, sitting between where Seth had fallen and where Solos lay. This scent of death was different than what followed the shades. This . . . this was heavier, more real.

Everything starts from home. If the father isn’t there, then the friends are going to step up to influence the young boy astray. This is where the problems come in, because in my community the majority of the children do not have any fathers in the home. I can only speak for my community. This is why with the young guys who do hang around me, I always do my best to encourage them. I have already lived the negative side on the streets, so I prefer to encourage them on the positive side - to encourage them to get a job, save their money and to do something for their families.Franco ‘Co’ Bethel, former gang leader and right hand man to Scrooge.

And if, to live for another is sweet, if it is lovely for a woman to live for a paralyzed husband, and if there is a song forever on her lips because she is all in all to him, what must it be when you are all in all for Jesus? Wherefore I beseech you, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice--not a dead, but a living sacrifice-holy, acceptable unto God; and be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may know what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. How

I look at the sacrifice Belle made for her father and ask myself "Would I be able to do the same?

Knowing that the quality of our lives will be judged by how well we love others should be a challenge to all of us

Jadi yang bisa kau lakukan hanyalah belajar untuk hidup di sisi dinding ini. Berusaha saja membuat sisi dinding ini sama menyenangkannya seperti keinginan mamamu.

I’d like to propose to you that revelation is not the product of laborious study, but it is the fruit of friendship with God.

surrender, and say, “My God, have

The way she saw it, sin wasn't a plague you could catch if you ventured too close.

Her sin had saved her.

Books were to her what faith was to Martha; she never felt closer to the Father than she did in those moments under the shadow of the book tent, reading the stories of a stranger she'd never met.

Seth tilted his head to the side as he stared at me. “What did you just say?” Taking another step back, I glanced at the door. Could I make a run for it? Seth could definitely catch me, but right now, he probably didn’t want to. “Josie?” My heart stuttered at the raw quality of his voice. I wanted to deny that I’d uttered those words, but I couldn’t. How could I when it was the truth, and it wasn’t like I could take those words back. I couldn’t. Lowering my hand, I drew in a shallow breath. “I love you; I’m in love with you.” Seth jerked like I’d punched him. “You can’t love me.

When a guy goes out there and kills somebody, he might look at himself as the winner. But in truth he’s also a loser, because now he would be lost in the system. If you were listening to the news recently, some people you know well are doing 45, and 64 years for murder. They might have won their fight, but they lost their lives to the system. Franco ‘Co’ Bethel, former gang leader and right hand man to Scrooge.

Immanuelle stared at him—this man who’d used his lies to make himself a martyr. He thought he was the one who made the true sacrifice, but he couldn’t be more wrong. It was not the Prophet who bore Bethel, bound to his back like a millstone. It was all of the innocent girls and women—like Miriam and Leah—who suffered and died at the hands of men who exploited them. They were Bethel’s sacrifice. They were the bones upon which the Church was built. Their pain was the great shame of the Father’s faith, and all of Bethel shared in it. Men like the Prophet, who lurked and lusted after the innocent, who found joy in their pain, who brutalized and broke them down until they were nothing, exploiting those they were meant to protect. The Church, which not only excused and forgave the sins of its leaders but enabled them: with the Protocol and the market stocks, with muzzles and lashings and twisted Scriptures. It was the whole of them, the heart of Bethel itself, that made certain every woman who lived behind its gate had only two choices: resignation, or ruin. No more, Immanuelle thought. No more punishments or Protocols. No more muzzles or contrition. No more pyres or gutting blades. No more girls beaten or broken silent. No more brides in white gowns lying like lambs on the altar for slaughter. She would see an end to all of it.

Scrooge instituted the initiation process for new members, as a way of weeding out those who were not ready. This was primarily done to toughen fellas up, for when they ended up in the hands of the police. We were having experiences where gang members who were being locked up couldn’t handle pressure. The next thing you know, they were pulling right up in the front of your door with the police. Franco ‘Co’ Bethel, former gang leader and right hand man to Scrooge.

High school hockey games in Bethel, Maine, drew the same kind of crowds high school football did in Midwestern communities. There were girls standing in the lobby, fixing their lipstick in the reflection of the plate-glass windows, and toddlers weaving through the denim forest of grown-up legs. The grizzled man who sold hot dogs and nachos and Swiss Miss cocoa had taken up residence behind the kitchenette and was singing Motown as he ladled sauerkraut into a bun.

They were living to themselves: self, with its hopes, and promises, and dreams, still had hold of them; but the Lord began to fulfill their prayers. They had asked for contrition, and He sent them sorrow; they had asked for purity, and He sent them thrilling anguish; they had asked to be meek, and He had broken their hearts; they has asked to be dead to the world, and He slew all their living hopes; they had asked to be made like unto Him, and He placed them in the furnace, sitting by "as a refiner of silver," till they should reflect His image; they had asked to lay hold of His cross, and when He had reached it out to them, it lacerated their hands. They had asked they knew not what, nor how; but He had taken them at their word, and granted them all their petitions. They were hardly willing to follow so far, or to draw so nigh to Him. They had upon them an awe and fear, as Jacob at Bethel, or Eliphaz in the night visions, or as the apostles when they thought they had seen the spirit, and knew not that it was Jesus. They could almost pray Him to depart from them, or to hide His awefulness. They found it easier to obey than to suffer--to do than to give up--to bear the cross than to hang upon it: but they cannot go back, for they have come too near the unseen cross, and its virtues have pierced too deeply within them. He is fulfilling to them his promise, "And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me. But now, at last, their turn is come. Before, they had only heard of the mystery, but now they feel it. He has fastened on them His look of love, as He did on Mary and Peter, and they cannot but choose to follow. Little by little, from time to time, by flitting gleams the mystery of His cross shines upon them. They behold Him lifted up--they gaze upon the glory which rays forth from the wound of His holy passion; and as they gaze, they advance, and are changed into His likeness, and His name shines out through them, for he dwells in them. They live alone with Him above, in unspeakable fellowship; willing to lack what others own, and to be unlike all, so that they are only like him. "Such are they in all ages who follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth. Had they chosen for themselves, or their friends chosen for them, they would have chosen otherwise. They would have been brighter here, but less glorious in His kingdom. They would have had Lot's portion, not Abraham's. If they had halted anywhere--if He had taken off His hand, and let them stray back--what would they have lost? What forfeits in the morning of the resurrection? But He stayed them up, even against themselves. Many a time their foot had well-nigh slipped; but He, in mercy, held them up; now, even in this life, they know all he did was done well. It was good for them to suffer here, for they shall reign hereafter--to bear the cross below, for they shall wear the crown above; and that not their will but His was done on them.

No. No way. I’m not flying. I’m not getting in a tin can that could fall out of the sky at any moment. Screw that. Have you ever thought about how they get planes in the sky and how they stay in the sky? No? I have. It’s a lot of science I don’t understand.

Bethel reveals that God is present in every liminal place, lending his anchoring weight to our weightless lives. Our in-between places--between jobs, between cities, between houses--can easily feel like a bookmark, as if their only job was separating past from future. But these places are indeed part of the story, even when we have failed to give them a name... A nameless place can be the site of tentatively taking our first step toward trust; it's at Bethel that we can begin believing in a God, who journeys with us.

There are two different stories of the creation of the world. There are two stories of the covenant between God and the patriarch Abraham, two stories of the naming of Abraham’s son Isaac, two stories of Abraham’s claiming to a foreign king that his wife Sarah is his sister, two stories of Isaac’s son Jacob making a journey to Mesopotamia, two stories of a revelation to Jacob at Beth-El, two stories of God’s changing Jacob’s name to Israel, two stories of Moses’ getting water from a rock at a place called Meribah, and more.

I do not like to see you suffer. I vowed to protect you, but I fear the one thing I can't protect you from are the sorrowful things that seemed to have gripped your heart. At the very least, maybe I can take on some of the burdens of these thoughts, but only if you talk to me.

You must be careful of who you trust, child, of whom you have given your heart to.” I stiffened. “Power is the most alluring of all vices. It corrupts and destroys,” she said, her voice shifting low. “And it is the most hidden of all transgressions.” A cold chill radiated down my spine. “You’re talking about Seth.” “He is not what he seems,” she said, and a snake snapped at the air. “The Apollyon has committed acts of great treachery.” “I know.” My hands curled into fists. “I know what he’s capable of. And I know who he used to be and who he is becoming.

Daniel had been inside the Bethel police station only once, when he'd chaperoned Trixie's second-grade class there on a field trip. He remembered the quilt that hung in the lobby, stars sewn to spell out "PROTECT AND SERVE" and the booking room where the whole class had taken a collective grinning mug shot. He had not seen the conference room until this morning-a small, gray cubicle with a reverse mirrored window that some idiot contractor had put in backward so that from inside, Daniel could see the traffic of cops in the hallway checking their reflections.

Of course you do, but today is different.” Understanding rippled across his features, a slight widening of his eyes and nostrils. A moment of surprise, and seeing that caused pain to flicker through my chest, because he hadn’t expected me to remember. Seth expected so very little sometimes. “Happy birthday.

Oh, everything is fun when I’m around.” Hercules’s knees knocked into the back of my seat as he leaned back. “This one time, when I was ordered by the gods to . . .” I could only think of three words. Fuck. My. Life. “You should drive, because I’m going to end it all. Once we’re on the freeway, I’m going to jump out of this vehicle and throw myself in front of a Mack truck.” Josie’s laugh cut off her yawn. “That’s a little excessive.” Adjusting the sunglasses I’d stolen from Aiden yesterday morning, I smirked. “I do not think anything is excessive when it comes to him.” “But that won’t even kill you.” I sighed. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure it’ll knock me unconscious for the time being.

Two weeks later, without formal goodbyes, he heads to Bethel Ashram in Travancore. This monastic retreat was founded by a priest, BeeYay Achen, who is guided by the writings of Saint Basil on the pursuit of manual labor, silence, and prayer in order to become closer to the Creator. He was one of the first priests to get a BA, and no one knows him by any other name than BeeYay Achen. He encourages Rune by quiet example: service, prayer, and silence. After seven months, a leaner, almost unrecognizable Rune emerges like a butterfly from its chrysalis, sure of its destination, even if its flight is erratic. The beard, the joy, and the belly laugh are intact, but he is burning with a mystical sense of purpose.

Trixie continued to sleep while the story was filed while it was printed. She stayed asleep while the paper was bound with string and sent off in newspaper vans, tossed from the windows of the delivery boys's ratty Hondas. She was asleep still the next morning when everyone in Bethel read the front page, but by then, they already knew why Jason Underhill had been summoned away from a Bethel High School hockey game the previous day. They knew that Roy Underhill had hired his son a Portland lawyer and was telling anyone who'd listen that his son had been framed. And even though the article was ethical enough never to refer to her by name, everyone knew that it was Trixie Stone, still asleep, who had set this tragedy in motion.

Nearer, my God, to Thee. Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee! E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me: Still all my song shall be Nearer, my God! to Thee, Nearer to Thee. Though, like the wanderer, The sun gone down, Darkness be over me, My rest a stone; Yet in my dreams I'd be Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee. Then let the way appear Steps unto heaven; All that Thou sendest me In mercy given: Angels to beckon me Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee. Then with my waking thoughts Bright with Thy praise, Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise; So by my woes to be Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee. Or if on joyful wing, Cleaving the sky, Sun, moon, and stars forgot, Upward I fly: Still all my song shall be, Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee.

Are you a stalker or something?” “I’ve been called that a time or two, oddly enough.” My jaw unhinged. “And it’s funny, considering who the last person was to ask me that.” His arresting features tensed. “A relative of yours. A cousin, I guess.” His lips pursed thoughtfully. “Or maybe a sister? Honestly, I have no idea how that works out, but it’s about a thousand different kinds of disturbing.

Stop.” He shot in front of me, moving so fast I didn’t see him until we were face to face. “Please just . . . I . . . I don’t know what to say, Josie.” I winced, feeling what he was saying all the way to the core. “That . . . that says everything, Seth, because if you don’t—” My voice cracked, right along with what was left of my heart. “If you don’t know what to say, then that’s it.” “You don’t understand.” His voice was low.“I don’t understand anything.” Heart aching, I stepped to the side, but Seth followed. “Please, just let me go. We can forget we even had—” He clasped my cheeks in a gentle grasp. “No one has ever told me that before.” “What?” I whispered after a moment. His eyes were wide, slightly dilated. “No one has ever said they loved me or were in love with me, and actually meant it.” I couldn’t believe that. Not even his mother? Yes, that was a different kind of love, but then I remembered how his mom was and once again I found myself wishing she was alive so I could bitch-slap her into eternity. But to live the years he had, and to never experience any kind of love wasn’t just wrong, it was sad. I wished it wasn’t so. Seth’s hands slid down my neck, stopping where his thumbs pressed against my pulse. “But you . . .” I had a choice here. I recognized that. I could save face and let this go. I could pull away and walk out of this room, but I was hurting for myself and despite everything that had gone on between us, I was still hurting for him. Maybe that. “But I love you.” Seth’s hands shook—his hands. Hands that were always so steady in battle, but they trembled now, touching me. “I don’t deserve that from anyone, but especially from you.” Voice rough and heavy, he searched my face intently. “That is a precious gift that I . . . that I am not worthy of.” I sucked in air. Oh gosh, that hurt. Hearing him say that tore me up, ripped me right apart, and it struck me then. I knew why he had backed off. Him pushing me away had nothing to do with Alex or with me. It was because of him, because of how he believed he deserved nothing more than punishment. That he sincerely believed that the only thing he had was to atone for his past sins. Tears pricked my eyes as I folded my hands over his wrists. I had to prove what he believed wasn’t true. Prove that he was the total of everything he’d done and not just the dark things he was ashamed of, and I would do so, because I loved him and accepted him for who he was, for all his faults. That was what love meant.

Itu bukan salahmu. Aku tahu aku bilang begitu, tapi sebenarnya bukan. Aku hanya marah, dan saat aku marah, aku mengatakan hal-hal yang tidak seharusnya." "Hal-hal yang benar," ujar Siringen. "Bukan. Semua yang dikatakan saat marah tidaklah benar," tegasku. "Itu hanya sekadar ide yang belum menemukan kata-kata yang tepat, jadi berusaha mengatakannya terlalu cepat adalah kesalahan. Itu seperti awan—berubah bentuk dan tidak selalu sama.

The day you shot Scrooge, we had a nine stashed nearby. We knew that tension was building between us and you, and so we started to keep the nine nearby instead of the .380 pistol. So when you came up the road, after we finished beating that fella nobody bothered going for the nine, because it was only you one to all of us. But after you snatched that gun out of Geo’s hand and fired those shots at us, I ran back to get the nine. We had it stashed in a mattress through the shortcut next to where we were hanging out. Then he asked me in a serious tone, ‘You know, each time I jammed my hand in that mattress to find the gun, I couldn’t find it? I was like, ‘Where in the hell this gun is?’ I heard when you were firing those shots at Franz, but I couldn’t find that gun. It was only after you left did I found the gun. Franco ‘Co’ Bethel, former gang leader and right hand man to Scrooge.

Sirens blasted, breaking the silence and spinning me around. The shrill sound was all too familiar, and I snapped into action. Vicious excitement replaced the restlessness, and I knew just how screwed up that was, but right then? Oh yeah, I could use a fight. Yesterday in the quad had been child’s play. Grabbing the Glock loaded with titanium bullets, I hooked it into the holster and fit it around my thigh. I snatched the daggers off the dresser and headed out the door, not even bothering with grabbing a shirt. I came to a complete stop as Josie’s door swung open. What in the holy fuck were Alex and Josie doing together? For just a few seconds, the three of us were literally frozen, staring at each other as the sirens blared overhead. And then Alex broke the silence. “Really?” she said dryly, eyeing me with a smirk. “You’re going to fight with the awesomeness of your six-pack as a weapon?” I arched a brow. “Yeah, you know, I was going to test out the whole abs of steel theory thing. The gun attached to my thigh and the daggers in my hands are just props. Mainly for show. Don’t want to take away from the gloriousness that is my body, though.” Her smirk flipped into a grin. “Whatever.” She started forward. Up ahead, a tall figure stepped out in the hall, and light glinted off the titanium daggers in his hands. Aiden. Of course their room had to be close to mine. Of. Course.

If you don’t answer this door, I will do something drastic.” I frowned. “I can use the fire element, which means I can melt the insides of this lock,” he explained. “And I’m not that great at controlling fire. I’ll probably end up catching the door on fire.” “Whoa,” I muttered, swinging my legs off the bed. “And then the fire will spread to the walls and the next thing you know, the whole dorm is burning down. Roof on fire kind of shit and Marcus will get really pissed—

Trixie slept through Jason Underhill's unofficial interrogation in the lobby of the hockey rink and the moment shortly thereafter when he was officially taken into custody. She slept while the secretary at the police department took her lunch break and called her husband on the phone to tell him who'd been booked not ten minutes before. She slept as that man told his coworkers at the paper mill that Bethel might not win the Maine State hockey championship after all, and why. She was still sleeping when one of the millworkers had a beer on the way home that night with his brother, a reporter for the Augusta Tribune, who made a few phone calls and found out that a warrant had indeed been sworn out that morning, charging a minor with gross sexual assault. She slept while the reporter phoned the Bethel PD pretending to be the father of a girl who'd been in earlier that day to give a statement, asking if he'd left a hat behind. "No, Mr. Stone," the secretary had said, "but I'll call you if it turns up.

Now the LORD said [1] to Abram, “Go from your country [2] and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. 2And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. 3I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” [3] 4So Abram went, as the LORD had told him, and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran. 5And Abram took Sarai his wife, and Lot his brother’s son, and all their possessions that they had gathered, and the people that they had acquired in Haran, and they set out to go to the land of Canaan. When they came to the land of Canaan, 6Abram passed through the land to the place at Shechem, to the oak [4] of Moreh. At that time the Canaanites were in the land. 7Then the LORD appeared to Abram and said, “To your offspring I will give this land.” So he built there an altar to the LORD, who had appeared to him. 8From there he moved to the hill country on the east of Bethel and pitched his tent, with Bethel on the west and Ai on the east. And

GENESIS 12 Now  mthe LORD said [1] to Abram, “Go from your country [2] and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. 2 nAnd I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. 3 oI will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and  pin you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” [3] 4So Abram went, as the LORD had told him, and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from  qHaran. 5And Abram took Sarai his wife, and Lot his brother’s son, and all their possessions that they had gathered, and the people that they had acquired in Haran, and they set out to go to the land of Canaan. When they came to the land of Canaan, 6Abram  rpassed through the land to the place at Shechem, to  sthe oak [4] of  tMoreh. At that time  uthe Canaanites were in the land. 7Then the LORD appeared to Abram and said,  v“To your offspring I will give this land.” So he built there an altar to the LORD, who had appeared to him. 8From there he moved to the hill country on the east of  wBethel and pitched his tent, with Bethel on the west and Ai on the east. And there he built an altar to the LORD and called upon the name of the LORD. 9And Abram journeyed on, still going toward the Negeb.

Be strong and of good courage; for you shall cause this people to inherit the land which I swore to their fathers to give them. 7 Only be strong and very courageous, to observe to do according to all the law, which Moses my servant commanded you: turn not from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may have good success wherever you go. 8 This book of the law shall not depart out of your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, that you may observe to do according to all that is written in it: for then you shall make your way prosperous, and then you shall have good success. 9 Have not I commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; Do not be terrified, neither be dismayed: for Yahweh your Elohim is with you wherever you go.

The nymph blinked out and reappeared directly in front of me. Impressive. Even I couldn’t track its movement. “You’re making a huge mistake.” Gods. Some nights just couldn’t get any worse. “My entire existence is a mistake, so you’re going to have to get a little more detailed about what exact mistake you’re talking about.” The nymph’s all-white eyes crackled little bolts of light. “Staying away from her won’t save her.” Well, I was immediately proven wrong. Tonight was officially getting worse. “And it won’t save you either,” the nymph added. I barked out a harsh laugh. “There is no saving me. I know what the end game is.” “There is no such thing as finality,” he replied, leaning in so when he spoke next, his cool breath moved over my jaw. “All prophecies are designed to be rewritten. No fate, no matter what is sacrificed or bargained, is final.” He paused. “All the pieces are never shared.

Our Father who is in heaven, Hallowed be your name. 10 Your kingdom come. Your will be done, as in heaven, so on earth. 11 Give us this day our daily bread. 12 And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. 13 And bring us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. [For yours is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.]

I continued with my morning runs, avoiding the house on Bethel Street for the first few days. Another encounter with Nick Schwartz wasn’t something I welcomed. Seeing how adamant he was, I had no wish to trespass on his land. I’ll admit, though, I missed seeing Elvis.

I stared at him for a moment, and then I exploded. “You threw a knife at me!” “I did,” he replied calmly. “You hit me with the knife!” “I did.” He leaned forward, dropping his foot onto the floor. “As I told Seth, unbinding you myself would not be easy. I wish I hadn’t had to do it that way. The last thing I wanted was to cause you pain. I didn’t enjoy any part of that—well, besides the look on Hyperion’s face—but the only way for me to finish unbinding you was to pass you through a mortal death.

Luke sent me a look, but wisely kept his mouth shut, and he pulled out a slim cellphone. “I’ll text and let him know.” “Make sure he says who he is and that he comes in peace or some shit, because I left her with one of my daggers and instructions to stab anything that comes through that door.

Modesty is about so much more than the clothes we wear

What does your clothing reveal about the condition of your heart?

Appropriate to the occasion" means choosing what to wear based on what you know is appropriate to wear for each given situation.

Realizing that [Beauty and the Beast] is the Beast's story allows us to see everything through the ultimate lens of this story - redemption

Belle trusted that her earthly father had her best interest at heart. Do you trust that your Heavenly Father has yours?

If you really believe that Jesus died for you, then you are going to want to dress like Jesus died for you.

Modesty is a humble attitude that points others to the God you profess to worship