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Okay goodbye
I tried logging into tumblr on my computer and tumblr automatically sent a reset password to my email. Unfortunately that email has been out of use for 7+ years and I can't get into it. I'm so frustrated that I'm just going to reblog everything from this account into that one. See you on the other side.
Winry: Ah, I appear to have fallen in love with Ed.
Winry: Anyway, moving on with life.
Ed: *is confronted with even a vague suggestion of being in love with Winry*
Ed: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
I was a normal fan. Then I found Tumblr.
Ron Weasley offered the stranger sitting next to him on the train half his sandwich, even though it was all he had. Ron Weasley sacrificed himself for the good of Harry and Hermione at age eleven, because even then he thought they were more important than he was, and the ones worth saving. Ron Weasley was Harry Potter’s first friend, and the first thing Harry ever had resembling a family. Ron Weasley lived in a cramped house, and wore hand me down robes, and he didn’t even think twice about offering his room and food and family to Harry every break, he offered him every thing he could and gave him everything he had. Ron Weasley took care of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger when they were too busy taking care of the rest of the world to worry about themselves. Ron Weasley stood on broken bones when he was thirteen years old, to tell a man infamous for murder that if he planned on killing his best mate, he would have to go through him first. Ron Weasley was the person Harry would miss most in the world. Ron Weasley was a pureblood wizard who, from a very young age, devoted his life to abolishing blood status, even if he didn’t quite understand his own privilege. Ron Weasley’s greatest fears and insecurities were tied up in his two best friends seeing him the way he saw himself. They were tied up in the idea, imbedded deeply in Ron Weasley, that he was somehow inferior. Ron Weasley gave Dobby his own clothes and socks to be buried in, because he understood how important it would have been to him. Ron Weasley thought about saving the house elves when everyone else forgot. If you don’t love Ron Weasley, The Boy Who Cared, I don’t know what books you read but they weren’t the same ones I did.
Trying to inspire myself to get up is difficult when I haven't caught up on any work.
You know what isn't good? The path of self-destruction. So don't mind the scratches on my limbs, They're just the result Of me bushwhacking my way back To the trail. It's narrow, But I have your light to guide me.
Stumped Leg
Despite 2 Corinthians 12 being one of my favourite chapters of the bible, I don’t think I fully realized what it meant until this morning while I was struggling to get out of bed.
Yesterday I encountered the story of a girl who was born with a deformed leg (read: stumped). When she became a Christian, the Church was hopeful that God would heal her leg (read: grow a new one) under the context of being born again as a new creation. They even marked where her leg had been to show the progress of growth as they prayed over it.
I don’t know about you, but I have not heard of any modern day miracles where someone grew a new leg. And in this story, God didn’t grow her a new leg either (not that it isn’t possible). Instead, she had to realize that even though God’s victory is complete, it will not manifest fully until the new creation of the world.
In essence, how full or complete will God’s healing be on this side of eternity? Will He always remove the thorns from our side? Paul writes no, and in what I’ve seen, that’s true. While God may heal, He always does what brings Him glory, and sometimes that involves living with a stumped leg.
Our depravity is manifested in us as well, even after we are saved. It doesn’t change our salvation, but it does show that healing on this side of eternity is not shown in the way we always expect.
Sometimes that means struggling with homosexuality despite being made new and loving God.
And sometimes that also pertains to mental health.
As someone who struggles with anxiety on a regular basis and has been consistently praying to God to heal and remove it, being confronted with the fact that this may not go away was not … pleasant. In fact, it just made me even more anxious (read: I nearly had an anxiety attack over this revelation).
What about all those passages in the Bible where God explains His peace, or when he talks about the birds of the air and the flowers of the field and tells us not to be anxious?
I always thought that if I wanted to overcome anxiety, I had to put more faith in God, to trust Him more completely - and while on one hand that may be true, there is no guarantee that God will choose to heal me and remove this thorn. I will still experience depravity so can I claim that I will be completely unwavering in my trust for Him? In my experience, it has made me cling to Him so much more than if I wasn’t riddled with mental health issues. Perhaps that’s why - that my anxiety is actually necessary for me and is an avenue through God uses to connect with me.
So what do I do in light of all this? Perhaps striving to overcome is too exhausting, but I can trust that God has given me strength to at least bare it.
And hope. There is still hope despite this because healing is still possible - if not in this lifetime, then the next. That is my hope.
My anxiety is more than a stumped leg or a thorn at my side - it has become my cross to bare.
So I will pick it up. I will choose to live a life like Jesus and follow Him. I will choose obedience despite hardship but especially, I will choose love despite suffering. That anxiety would not become a hindrance to life, but open a way for new life in God for His glory.
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’ And he who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.’ And he said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment. The one who conquers will have this heritage, and I will be his God and he will be my son.’ “
-Revelation 21: 1-7
I'm sorry to all the people I have left behind, it was not because you don't have worth. You do. I just need to believe it for myself.
You are allowed to be both a masterpiece and a work in progress simultaneously.
Sophia Bush (via j-existe)
I'm tired of finding myself here again. Progress is a conduit for old ghosts, you never know what old demons come up through the shadows of false comfort. I forgot what it felt like to feel my heart squeeze that tight. Difficulty breathing was supposed to be a thing of the past, but some things never let you go. Or maybe I just never let go.
Meet me at the coffee shop. Give me the opportunity to scribble in a date at the local café with you. Lead me to the back tables where the eavesdroppers are fewer and the music is dimmed to just white noise. Talk to me. Ask me about the dreams and my fears. Ask me about the goals I have for life, this year, this week, today. Tell me about the childhood memories that have you still remember and serve as the reasons for why you are the way you are today. Ask me the same. Walk away from the crowded pubs. Take me slow dancing so that I know you care more for conversation than mindless movement. When you see me in a group of people looking excited because the adrenaline has started to kick in, hold my hand and lead me somewhere quiet. Remind me that that's okay. Sit in my room with me for tea. Ask me about my latest epiphany. Help me develop it. Ask permission to read the last entry in my journal, then ask to read my favourite. Tell me what you think about politics. Tell me what you think of colours. Ask me the silly questions: what's my favourite colour? If I could be any animal what would it be? Which childhood cartoon made the greatest impact on my life? Walk past the birthday parties and large socials. Raincheck on the potlucks. Entertain the symbol of old friends reuniting. Take me to a coffee shop.
…
And then I find out the fanfic hasn’t updated for over a year.
WE CAN ALL RELATE TO THIS POST
OH GOD THIS JUST STARTED HAPPENING TO MEEEEEE
Harry Potter as a teen comedy…
Seriously, I will reblog everytime. Whoever did this, I have eternal love for you.
katara: *in a crowd and cant find zuko* this calls for drastic measure
katara: *uses her hands as microphone* HONOOOOOOORR!!
zuko: *across the street rushing* WHERE??
katara: there he is
I should not have laughed so hard about this but I did.
Your love for me made me jealous. You made it seem so easy. I had to practice loving myself and I still never came close to your nearly impulse actions. I resented it. You would think that I could have mirrored it, mimicked the affection and honey dripped words into my consciousness but I couldn't. Sweet talk became sour, hot to the touch instead of warm caresses I burned beneath attempt after attempt. So I pushed white away to dim the black, let grey smother me in its blankness, I let myself push the light away until my eyes could adjust to the dark. Because as effortless as you make standing in blinding light look, its easier to adjust to the dark.