#truth Tumblr posts

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    Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord needs them,’ and he will send them at once.” This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, “Say to the daughter of Zion, 'Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.’” The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and put on them their cloaks, and he sat on them. Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.”

    Matthew 21:1‭-‬11

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    Here I sit, 4 days into my government-enforced-quarantine-hotel-prison, where I will be for another 10 days. It’s Palm Sunday today, which means I will be here over Easter.

    I’ve never spent Easter alone before. It feels bizarre. In fact, I’ve gotta admit that I didn’t initially relish the idea of 2 weeks alone locked in a room. However, it presents me with an opportunity I’ve never had, and I doubt I will have quite like this again, to truly stop and just be with Jesus for a little while, and reframe my thinking a bit.

    I sat in my hotel room this morning and ‘went to Church’. Churches all around the world, have recently been meeting online for ‘virtual’ gatherings. It takes a bit to get used to. But I hope that it becomes a time where we really realign our understanding of what it means to be the church as the body of christ, rather than simply attending it. You may have seen some of those posts floating around facebook with that same thought, and it’s a good reminder. 

    There’s something beautiful about the stripping back of all the illusions in our lives, the façade that we’re in control, that we’ve got it all together and the busyness that fills our waking moments. It brings us into the simplicity and slowness of just being and enjoying ordinary things. But it also forces us into this uncomfortable place where we have to reckon with what really matters and what life is about, where we’re really going and what we actually believe. It makes us confront our hearts more than our actions that usually define our days. We so often blindly walk from day to day without throwing much of a thought at what we’re doing, when there is so much value to be had in the stillness.

    In his time of ministry on the earth, Jesus stripped back the social conventions of the day and turned things on their head. He confronted people’s ideas of doing what they did just because that was the done thing to do, and brought it back to the heart, the motivation.

    I feel like this strange time we’re in is another way of being forced to grapple with our society’s way of living and thinking, and bring it back to the heart.

    I’d like to think that I’m a relatively independent person and do my own thinking and make my own decisions.

    It’s a bizarre thought then, to wrap my head around the idea that a great deal of what I think of as my own independence, initiative and ideology is actually the subtle work of almost 28 years of immersion in my culture.

    With that in mind, It’s quite a task to try and come to terms with what I actually think, and what is truth, as opposed to what my culture tells me to think. 

    As a follower of Jesus, in particular, how much of who I see God to be is shaped by my cultural eyes, and how much is truth? How much of what we think a ‘Christian’ life looks like is what God is calling us to, and how much is ‘Christian culture’?

    No doubt, the answers will bring both beautiful and freeing truths, as well as confronting and difficult ideas to grapple with.

    I find it intriguing, how the common thought of what is good and right continues to change a great deal throughout history. Every generation thinks that they’ve got it right, and that whatever the previous ideals were, are clearly wrong. However much we think we’ve got worked out now, I’m confident that we’ve still got some of it wrong. 

    When Jesus came to earth and turned the way of thinking in his day on its head, people were deeply challenged and confronted by his words. As history goes, every generation has found different parts of the gospel hard to swallow, and has perceived scripture differently through their own cultural lenses. It begs the question: what aspects of truth do we find unpalatable in our current day? And how are we wrongly interpreting the word of God with our own fallible thinking?

    I don’t have all of the answers to those questions; but I’m sure that will take a lifetime of reckoning with the truth. But that’s the point isn’t it- we need to keep grappling with the truth and come to know in an ever deeper sense the One true God and who He is; and we need to let that truth continue to shape the way we live and re-mould it, rather than growing numb and living blindly in the way that our culture tells us to live. 

    It needs to be a daily thing.

    As challenging and new as this time is that we find ourselves in, I find deep peace knowing that in an ever changing world where much of our perceived ‘security’ is removed, God is constant and loving and faithful, and we can find hope in him. 

    In the end, life’s not really about all that busy stuff. Let’s get back to the simplicity of loving God and loving each other. 

    As John says in his gospel, eternal life is that they know the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom He sent (paraphrased from John 17: 3). 

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  • Do you remember the day that you craved physical touch?

    Me neither. 

    I mean- me neither- I don’t remember because I never craved it. 

    I am what one may call a ‘pessimistic hopeless romantic.’

    Not even a realist, really. 


    I’d fall in love with the way a touching moment was written-

    Like the ones where the guy would gently grab the girl’s face and plant a soft kiss on her cheek. 

    Though it’s hard to imagine that over the sound of cracks coming from your neck after someone forcefully grabs your face. 


    I’d watch movies about the love of someone’s life helping them get over hindering fears,

    But it’s kind of weird to believe those things exist when you can’t even keep track of which fear was created by someone you trusted.


    How can you write about being cared for,

    When someone has stared into your eyes as they stated they’re retracting their compassion for you. 

    Note to self- compassion is refundable I guess. 


    Or when you go to apologize for being the way you are- they say it’s okay, but they tell you they’re unsure how much longer they can be patient with you.

    Similar to a parent on the brink of snapping after their kid can’t understand why 1+1 equals 2, to be honest, I still don’t understand it. 

    Then again, everything was always one sided. 


     My favorite times-

    Were what I wrote about the others:

    The facade based poetry works, of how calm one’s green eyes reminded me of the sedating forests-

    Even though I was too scared to look in their eyes.

    Or how I wrote about one who brought light into my life- 

    Yet I suffocated in their darkness. 

    Or how I missed the embrace of one,

    But I disregard how they left me stranded on the cold ground one night- like something you’d read about in a thriller novel. 


    But I remember the day I craved physical touch for the first time. 

    It was the same moment I felt the most warmth, 

    Even though my right arm was over the blanket and I could feel the cold room,

    It was inferior to the warmth of the hand I found right between two bodies. 


    In another poem, I once wrote, 

     if one would remember the countless times I would apologize for being fucked up,

    And when I state those apologies now-

    You respond with kindness and reiterate that ‘there’s no reason to apologize,”

    “We’ll work through this,” you say. 


    And now I’m looking over my old works of poetry- the ones infused with romantic fantasies,

    Wondering how these things are becoming a reality. 


    I remember the moment you wanted to hear my heartbeat,

    I had to hold in tears,

    Because I was always the one to listen to other heartbeats-always seen as a silly thing. 

    No one wanted to hear mine. 

    But as you put your ear to my chest

    I wondered if you knew that those heartbeats were for you. 


    I listened to the peaceful silence when I would wake up randomly while we were sleeping-

    Wondering how a year ago I was on the brink of walking away from life- because someone’s version of care for me -was abuse. 

    I was remembering how I was with people that would cuss me out and yell at me to get out,

    Or not fight for me to stay with them in their lives.


    I fall back asleep-

    And the next morning you pull me in as I rest my head on your chest-

    While you say that I couldn’t believe I was there.

    Nor could you believe that I was your’s.


    And I think about that Saturday evening,

    How I opened up about the stressors I don’t dare share with people,

    But I shared them with you. 

    Maybe I expected the normal- “that’s life.” response,

    The shoulder shrug,

    Or being left alone with my stressors having to save myself from drowning and suffocating-

    And you grabbed my waist and pulled me into a hug as you reminded me of the present-

    Something I never could do,

    You kissed my cheek as you said, “one thing at a time.”

    Is this even real?


    I think about the poetry I used to write-

    About how I couldn’t wait to show affection and compassion through touch. 

    Me- the anti-touch introvert who barely can give long hugs without feeling awkward. 

    But I knew back then that my person would make me feel safe enough to be that vulnerable. 

    And you did,

    As I snuck up behind you, rested my head on your shoulder, 

    And ran my fingers through your hair. 


    I think about our late night conversations-

    How I’d sacrifice a few extra minutes of sleep,

    Just so I could talk to you longer.

    Even if that meant I sacrificed a bit of makeup in the morning too. 


    I think about the day I went back to him,

    When I was interested in you. 

    And maybe that’s why I detached from him,-

    Because I felt something towards someone else-

    If we’re being completely honest-

    I wanted you instead of him,

    And maybe that explains my immense happiness as I texted you about what I did a few weeks later.

    I’m sorry for that period of time that I never responded back. 

    I was thinking about you during that time. 


    Who knew you’d have such an effect on me,

    Ha,..

    Look at me-

    I bought a ticket to see you,

    Traveled through an empty airport-

    Amongst a international pandemic-

    Just so I could meet you. 


    I open up about my embarrassing stories 

    In an attempt to make you smile and laugh,

    Because every day- you make me smile and laugh,

    Like you don’t have me yet- like you’re still trying to win me over.


    You brought the spark back,

    And now I’m stumbling over my words-

    Even though this used to be my playing field.

    I’m spilling my guts 

    And unveiling the heart I wear on my sleeve. 

    Just so you can see how much I care about you.


    Because I’d go through all of my heart breaks, abuse, and betrayal again if it meant I’d end up in this same place, 

    With the same man I get the blessing to call mine.

    //n.m.d// 04-05-2020

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  • It’s like we’re secretly dating but with none of the perks and all of the sneaking.

    Which I’d be ok with except we’re not dating…

    They call you my ‘not-really-girlfriend’

    Which scares me




    Because




    I’m scared that I’ll get *more*



    attached

    #the dr is in #wlw#truth#lesbians #this girls gonna break my heart
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    जीवन रक्षक भगवान कबीर परमात्मा अपने भक्तों कीआयुभी बढ़ा देता है।प्रमाण ऋग्वेद मण्डल10सूक्त161मंत्र 2और ऋग्वेद मण्डल 9 सूक्त80मंत्र2रामपालजी महाराज की शरण ग्रहण करें।प्रमाण सहित अवश्य देखें टीवी साधना चैनल शाम7:30 बजे

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  • “Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity.

    If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.”

    Brené Brown

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  • #lordweneedyou!! Felt these #lyrics on my #heart, so I had to lay them down! You never know what someone is going through!! All I know is, right now “#lordweneedyou”! Do I have a witness!! #happysunday #church #churchflow #god #truth #ministry #voisey #mood #sundayfunday #sundayvibes #flow #vibes #create #creative #creativity #creator #entertainment #enterpreneur #entertainer
    https://www.instagram.com/p/B-lm39VJn2y/?igshid=jmxxmeryjqwk

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  • When sewing, always remember pattern placement is key

    #you had one job #sewing#twitter#truth
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  • I was so happy you were back, I didn’t even try to bring all of that back up. The truth is that it took me years to get over it. Why? I honestly don’t know. But months before you came back I was still holding onto hope. It was fading but it was still there. Then your account showed up again except the person behind it was cold. They told me I never really meant anything, that they hated me. I thought it was you since it was your account and they claimed it was you. I don’t think it was but at the time it felt real and it broke me. I stopped hoping after that, it was the release I needed after all those years. Finally, I had an answer. Finally I knew just how meaningless I really was, I mean i knew before that but it assured me that my thoughts were correct.

     And then you found me. 

    I was too happy to process the bad as well as the good. And the truth is that it would have been pretty indifferent to you if I stayed in your life or not. You only came looking for me because everything else started falling apart around you. Well now you know how I felt for years, even before I knew you. The feeling is not new to me, it just grows more intense as time goes on. When I’m around you I act more like the old me than i realise. I act like you are a hero and you have all the answers. But I’ve been through shit I can’t even begin to describe to you and I got through it because I had V. And i only have her in my life because I somehow refused to listen to you about that one thing. I don’t think you have all the answers like you think you do. You act like you’re all knowing and yeah you’re smart but that doesn’t mean you get everyone. I don’t think you understand how much it hurt. I’m not sure you understand me at all. 

    You say you went through hell to get to us. But the truth is we’ve been to hell and back about a million times while you were strolling to get here. If it was me I would have found a way no matter what, it wouldn’t have taken this long. Yeah I’m angry Sam, I don’t want you to hurt, I just want you to know everything. No more holding back. 

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