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2026-06-07-0830 Pastor Loran Livingston is the speaker this morning, June 7, 2026, in the 8:30 am service. Scripture: Acts 9:31, Philippians 2:12, 2 Corinthians 7:1, Romans 3:9–18 Notes: -The thought of sin and the judgment of God should make you tremble, says Pastor Livingston. -Then you will learn what will break His heart, and what it means to be saved. -One day, you will stand before the Judge of all the earth for scrutiny of all you've done. -Are you ready?
2026-06-07-1030 Pastor Loran Livingston is the speaker this morning, June 7, 2026, in the 10:30 am service. Scripture: Acts 9:31, Philippians 2:12, 2 Corinthians 7:1, Romans 3:9–18 Notes: -The thought of sin and the judgment of God should make you tremble, says Pastor Livingston. -Then you will learn what will break His heart, and what it means to be saved. -One day, you will stand before the Judge of all the earth for scrutiny of all you've done. -Are you ready?
Text Me Your QuestionsFireworks can turn the Fourth of July into a terrifying experience for many dogs. Trembling, hiding, pacing, excessive panting, drooling, escape attempts, and panic are not signs of stubbornness or disobedience. They are signs of genuine fear, anxiety, and, in many cases, noise phobia.In this episode of Dog Training Today, Certified Canine Behaviorist Will Bangura explains the science behind fireworks anxiety in dogs and why so many dogs struggle during Independence Day celebrations. You'll learn what happens inside the canine brain during fear and panic, why obedience training alone does not solve noise sensitivity, and how evidence-based behavior modification can help dogs feel safer and more confident.Will discusses the gold-standard behavior modification techniques of desensitization and counterconditioning, how to create a safe refuge room during fireworks events, common myths about fearful dogs, the role of veterinary behavioral medicine, and when professional help may be necessary.Topics Covered:• Fireworks anxiety in dogs• Noise phobia and sound sensitivity• Understanding the canine fear response• Desensitization and counterconditioning• Creating a safe room for fireworks season• Why punishment makes fear worse• Common myths about comforting fearful dogs• Veterinary behaviorists and behavioral medication• When to seek professional help• Evidence-based dog behavior modificationRead the complete guide:https://phoenixdogtraining.com/dogs-scared-of-fireworks/Need professional help?Will Bangura, M.S., CAB-ICB, CBCC-KA, CPDT-KA, FDM, FFCP is a Certified Canine Behaviorist with more than 35 years of experience helping pet parents resolve dog aggression, anxiety, fears, phobias, reactivity, separation anxiety, and other serious behavior problems through science-based, force-free methods.Phoenix Dog Training:https://phoenixdogtraining.comDogBehaviorist.com:https://dogbehaviorist.comSchedule a behavior consultation:https://phoenixdogtraining.com/dog-behavior-consultations/Hosted by Will Bangura, Certified Canine Behaviorist and host of the Dog Training Today Podcast.Support the showIf you need professional help please visit my Dog Behaviorist website.Go here for Free Dog Training Articles
“Radical Love – a Life of Fear and Trembling.” Pastor Mike Polhemus teaches on loving God in a radical way through obedience, consecration, and the fear of the Lord. We pray you are blessed by this message.
2 Samuel 6 | Worship the Holy God with rejoicing and trembling by Enfield & Strathfield Anglican Church
The Art of the Deal finds some innovative applications. By DDSECRETS. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Anna was a sophomore at Boston College. She was working toward a degree she no longer wanted to pursue. Her parents both lost their jobs due to the 2020 pandemic and she refused to take out a student loan to pay for her education. Things weren't exactly going as planned. Anna was no longer able to live on campus. The cost was outrageous and her parents couldn't afford those living arrangements any longer. It made more sense to find a cheap apartment nearby which also required Anna to get a job.No one was hiring. All the small businesses had been forced to shut down many months ago and never reopened. The restaurants had closed the dining areas and were only doing take out orders. Anna needed a flexible job so she could balance her school work, but there just wasn't anything out there. She feared she would have to leave school and return home. Anna was out walking with her friend college friend, Lisa, as both girls were looking for a job near their campus apartment. They wandered a little further away from their apartment as they would have liked to. They were walking through an area that had a bad reputation for drugs, crime and was known for its surplus of prostitutes. The girls also walked by a building that seemed a little out of place. It was a nice modern facility. It was clean, enclosed and had a security booth at the entrance and cameras every where they looked. On the second floor of the building there was a sign that said, “Now hiring! Inquire inside” Anna was curious and she told Lisa that she wanted to check the place out. They approached the security booth and asked about the building. “Hey there!” Anna said; “I saw the sign on the second floor and was wondering what this place was.” “It's a massage therapy office.” The guard said uninterested. “Do you know what they're hiring for.” “No, that's a little above me, hun. If you want to check it out I can give you and your friend a pass so you could go inside and see for yourself. clip on these badges and your good to go. There is someone inside that can give you more information.” “We would really appreciate that, thank you.” The girls walked to what appeared to be the main entrance of the building. Anna pulled the door open and the inside foyer was dimly lit with earth tone colors. There was audio coming from all around and it appeared to be sounds of nature. “Is that a running stream I hear?” Anna laughed. “Yeah, it's all very relaxing.” Said Lisa. Anna saw the woman sitting behind a desk. The girls made their way over to the woman. She was slightly older than they were and she was very attractive. “Hi, can I help you ladies?” “Um, we were just walking by and noticed the sign outside that said you were hiring?” Anna asked. “Yes, we are looking for a new masseuses.” The receptionist told them. “Oh, ok Anna said. We probably shouldn't be here then.” She laughed. “Why not? The position pays well and you keep all your tips. The hours are flexible and the building is very secure. We accept only the best clientele here.” Lisa looked at Anna unsure of herself. “My parents would kill me if I worked here.” Lisa admitted. “I know. My parents wouldn't be happy either, but I'd like to hear a little more.” Anna said. “If you want to wait here for me that's fine, Lisa. But if you decide to leave then please take an Uber home. This area is scary.” “Oh, don't worry.” The receptionist offered. “I can have security bring you back to your place if you'd like. It's no problem at all.” Anna perked up; “Yeah that would be great. Lisa, just let them take you back and I'll be home shortly. There is no reason to sit around here and wait for me.” “Ok, I'll take the ride.” Lisa responded. “Anna, please text me when you're leaving so I know when to expect you and make sure security takes you home as well.” “I will and I'll let you know how it goes.” The two girls hugged, and Lisa walked towards the door. The receptionist announced; “There is a car waiting for you outside. It was Nice meeting you, Lisa.” Lisa waived and exited the building. The receptionist picked up the phone and began talking briefly. “Anna, Maria will be down in a moment to speak with you. She is the manager here.” “Oh, thank you so much.” said Anna with a smile. Anna waited in the lobby looking at a series of ink blots that are hanging on the walls. She has no idea what she is looking at, but that's probably the point of them being there in the first place. A door opened and a woman in her late 30's walked through. She is wearing a black skirt and heels. She has long black hair and looks Hispanic. Anna admired the attractive figure as she approached. “Hi Anna, my name is Maria. I'm the manager here. What do you think of the place?” “I love it. It's so relaxing in here. The ink blots kept my attention while I waiting.” She smiled. “All that the men see are boobs when they look at them. Why don't you follow me and we will talk in my office?” Maria led Anna through the set of doors. There were a series of doors that followed. There were no windows and everything seemed very discreet. The hallway was dimly lit and easy on the eyes. As Anna continued walking down the hall she noticed that there was an open door. Anna peered in and noticed a young girl cleaning the room. Inside the room was a red masseuse table. It looked very comfortable. There were several shelving units with products on the shelves. There were several red lounge chairs in the room also. On the walls there where silhouette figures of women, that looked erotic. Anna then noticed a young woman come into sight. She had on a black skirt and heels like Maria. She was cleaning the room when she noticed Anna looking at her. The door promptly closed. Maria had led Anna further through the hallway and arrived at her office. She walked through and the same silhouette pictures were handing on Maria's walls as well. “I noticed the same pictures hanging on one of the rooms as we walked by.” “We like to keep our clients always thinking about women.” Maria said with a smile. “So, you are interested in the position of masseuse? Do you have any experience? Don't worry if you do not.” “I'd like to know a little more about the position if you don't mind? I have no experience as a masseuse. I've given my boyfriend a massage plenty of times, but I have no formal experience.” “It sounds like you have enough experience to me, honey. We do a little bit more here aside from massages.” “What's the pay look like?” “Well, that's completely up to you. Our clients are all very wealthy. I guess it depends on the service you want to offer. The earning potential is only limited by the time you put in and you imagination.” “My imagination?” “Yes, if you are creative and don't mind going the extra mile for your clients it could be very lucrative. We offer a base pay of $50 and hour. You make your own hours, but once you get going you will be working off your clients schedule and not your own. I'd say it would be pretty easy to make well over 10 thousand dollars a month working on just a few clients a week. Their tip is where you make your money. You keep 100% of the tip.” “Well, how do you make money here, paying out such high hourly rates?” “Like I said, our clients are all very wealthy. They tell us what they want and we give them a price. They always pay. And they pay cash. They do not like paper trails which I'm sure you understand.” “Yeah of course, I get it. So who are these people?” “Well, Anna, they are entreprenuers, politicians, actors, musicians, athletes. Anyone with a large bank account that's looking for a fabulous, discreet no questions asked experience.” “What do you mean experience? I thought this was an all massage therapy and that type of service?” “It is and whatever else the client wants. If you are only comfortable with massages then I would match you with someone who is just looking for a massage. If you wanted to offer other experiences I would match you up with someone looking for what you're offering.” “What exactly do you offer here?” “Anna, have you been sexually active with your boyfriend?” “Oh wow, that's like a real personal question. I guess so. We play around a lot.” “Have you had sex? Given a blowjob? A hand job? Anything like that?” asked Maria. “I've given a lot of hand jobs. ” “What about blowjob?” “I gave him one. He came in my mouth and there was so much it almost made me puke.” Anna grimaced as she recalled the experience. “So I take it that you've never had sex then? “No, I'm still a virgin.” Anna confided. “How about your ass? Have you ever had anal sex?” “Absolutely not!” Anna asserted. “Well, Anna, you could make a lot of money here if you really wanted to. The gentlemen that come here would pay a lot of money for a girl offering services like you.” “I really need the money, but I don't think I could do those things with anyone else, but a boyfriend.” “Give it a try dear. Why don't you start off slowly and see where it goes? I mean, there are people out there that would pay a girl like you to just talked to them. Someone may ask you to take off your panties so they could smell them. These guys call here all the time asking for things that most of us normal people think is just silly, but to people who have the money to do anything they want, there is nothing silly to them. They make it happen. It's all desire and impulse. ” “Ok,” Anna agreed. “Let's start off with a massage. They're going to know I'm not experienced once I start working on them though.” “Well, that's actually going to be your selling point. You're only 19 years old. You don't have much experience with anything and people will flock to that. Your innocence is appealing.” "Let's do it. When do I start getting paid?” asked Anna. “Right now if your ready. I'll give you your uniform and once you are dressed you will be on the clock. I'll be right back with your uniform.” Maria had Anna pose for an employee photo, then gave Anna a short visual gaze up and down her body, then went to get a uniform in her size. Anna sat in the oversized chair that made her feel like she was in way over her head, but she was excited about making money to help pay her way through school. She took her phone from her purse, texting to let Lisa know that she was fine. “You won't believe this, but I'm starting work right now! Like this very minute!” “I don't believe it!” Lisa replied. “Anna what do you know about being a masseuse?” “They said I have all the experience required lol.” Maria then walked in with Anna's uniform. “I have to go. Talk to you later, Lisa.” “Please be careful Anna!” Lisa replied. Maria handed Anna her uniform. A Tight black dress and black high heels in her size. “I have some great news.” Maria announced. “I made a call to a great client who was looking for someone with your credentials. He's a younger man, but very wealthy! He made all his money in the stock market. He invested his entire inheritance in Tesla very early on and cashed out just recently when it peaked so as you can imagine how wealthy he is. We consider him our most important client.” “So what does he want? Just a massage?” “Actually, yes. He wants a massage and he wants to talk to you. I sent him a picture of you and he is very excited to meet you. I hope you don't mind, but I showed him your photo.” “Wow, you people are serious around here.” Anna said with a laugh. “Can I see what he looks like?” “Sure, this is his profile.” Maria handed Anna her phone. “He looks just like Superman.” Anna said with a laugh. “What's his name? Oh my God I forgot his name.” She kept laughing. “He does look like Henry Cavill doesn't he?” Maria concurred. “Yes, that's it.” Anna recalled. “That's funny you think he looks like superman because he thinks you look like Mila Kunis.” Maria said as she laughed with Anna. “People tell me that all the time.” She smiled. “So when does superman land? I was going to run out quick and get something to eat.” “Oh, he is actually on his way here now. He was at the airport when I called him. He was about to fly to Miami. No lunch break yet, Anna.” Maria then escorted Anna to her room down the hall. “This is you. Make yourself at home. We can personalize it more during the week, but for now just put your gear close by so it's in arms length when you need it. Do you know how to warm up your oils?” “No, I've never used massage oils. Can you help me set up? It won't take me long to catch on.” “Of course. Oh, I almost forgot. I meant to tell you earlier, but there are other accessories; like condoms, lube and everything else you may need in the closet to the right of your massage bed. Now, you don't have to use anything in the closet. That's not what I'm saying, but they are there for you if you decide to change any plans.” “Thank you, but that won't be necessary.” Anna said being stubborn. Maria picked up her phone as a text came in. “Oh, Edward is here. He's parking below the building now and will come up the elevator. I'll escort him to your room. Please remember to relax and that you are in charge. You only do what you are comfortable with. If that's nothing then just give him a basic massage. That's what he hired you for. Talking should be easy so do that as much as you can. I'll be right in my office if you need anything.” “Ok, and thank you for this opportunity, Maria.” Anna said with a bit of excitement in her voice. “Of course.” Maria walked out and closed the door. She walked past her office to the elevator and awaited Edwards's arrival. The elevator doors opened and there stood Edward. He was wearing a light grey suit with a white shirt. He still had on his sunglasses. His hair was combed back and he appeared to be very confident. “Edward, so glad I caught you before you got on your plane. It would have been tragic to miss such an opportunity.” “Thank you, Maria. It's nice to know you're always looking out for my best interests. So where is she?” “She's in her room waiting. She's very excited to meet you.” Maria escorted Edward to the room. She opened the door and introduced them to each other. “Anna, if you need anything you know where to find me. Edward, is a gentleman and he will treat you as such.” Maria shut the door behind her. “So you're Anna? Maria told me you just started here maybe two hours ago?” “Yes, I just started today. Not exactly sure what I'm doing here, to be honest.” “How old are you?” he asked. “I'm 19. I'll be 20 in a few months.” “Maria said you aren't experienced. Sexually?” “My boyfriend and I have played around a bit, but nothing too serious yet.” “Your boyfriend? Does he approve of your new job?” “He doesn't know I took the job. He's back home with his parents and I don't think he can see this far.” She let out a nervous laugh. Edward smiled at Anna. He wasn't much older than she was. He just turned 30 years old and did not like meeting girls the old fashioned ‘clubbing' way. Once they realize who he is it they became obsessed with his money. “So what are you studying. I hear you go to Boston College. ” “I'm going for business, but I'm thinking I choose the wrong field of study. I'm just not passionate about it. I wanted to be a doctor, but my parents talked me out of it. They said it's a field that requires too much education. They wanted me working sooner rather than later.” “That sounds like an awful way to make a decision that you have to live with for the rest of your life. You should always follow your heart. Don't let anyone influence your decisions. Not even your parents.” “It's all a big mess right now. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to afford school and my rent so I may be moving back home with them soon enough.” Edward looked at Anna curiously. She was sweet & innocent, but also a very smart. Exactly the girl that he was looking for. “So would you like a massage? I've never went to school for this, but I'll do my best.” She smiled. “Yes, of course. I can't wait.” Edward said with a charming smile. Edward began to take his jacket off and then his shirt. Anna froze when she saw how well built he was. His arms were very muscular. His chest was bulky and he had a set of abdominals she has only seen in the movies. Anna cleared her throat several times. She became nervous and flustered. Edwards noticed and smiled. “Everything okay?” “Yeah, fine.” she said nervously. “Let me check on the oil.” As Anna turned her back Edward removed his shoes then his pants as he slid them to the floor. He bent over to pick them up and placed them on one of the lounge chairs. Edward stood behind Anna as she prepped the oils for the massage. “So how do you want me?” Edward stood naked behind Anna. Anna turned around and was surprised that Edward was completely nude standing before her. Trembling, she dropped one of the oil containers on the floor. “I'm sorry.” Anna covered her eyes with her hands. “Can you please put a towel on?” “Right. Sorry.” “Please, lie down on the bed.” Anna gestured to the therapy platform. Edward laid on the bed face up. He placed the towel over his cock. It was semi hard and at least 5 inches soft. Anna put some music on and then approached Edward. She slowly poured some oil onto his chest and into her hands and began to message his shoulders. She slowly worked her way down to his chest and massaged his pecs. His body was firm and muscular. She had never felt anything like this hard body before. Anna completed his front upper torso. It seemed as if Edwards was enjoying himself. He was moaning and his cock was reacting as well. The towel Edward had placed over his cock wasn't fully covering it any longer and was about to fall free. His cock was standing straight up, near where Anna was standing Anna moved down to Edward's feet to begin massaging his lower body. She couldn't take her eyes off his cock. She was curious about just how big it was. What it looked like. What it tasted like. Edward was watching Anna as she struggled to remain composed. He moved his hips side to side pretending he was trying to get comfortable until the towel fell from his waist and onto the floor. Anna gasped and tried to look away, but she couldn't keep her eyes off of it. “Could you please focus on this thigh?” Edwards pointed to his thigh just above his right knee. “Of course.” Said Anna, who seemed like she was in a trance. Anna began to massage Edward's right thigh. He let out a soft moan. His cock began to twitch before her. “Anna, I know we agreed on a massage, but what will it take for you to just hold my cock? Maybe jerk it a little for me?” “ I don't know sir. I think I should probably stop now.” Anna's quivering voice sounded embarrassed and unsure of herself. “Name your price.” Edward said, gently. Anna looked puzzled as she thought a
──────────────────────────────────────── [00:03:02] Mark Levin Is Trembling at the Prospect of Peace — Calls the 14-Point Iran Deal an Existential Catastrophe Levin was visibly shaking against the 14-point deal: Iran halts enrichment, US lifts sanctions, both open the Strait. Knight: this man's life is premised on never-ending war for Israel. ──────────────────────────────────────── [00:07:21] Joe Kent: Israel's Lobby Shifted US Policy From No Nukes to No Enrichment — Making Any Deal Impossible Kent: pro-Israel think tanks shifted the US red line from Iran can't have a nuclear weapon to Iran can't enrich at all — making any deal impossible and pushing toward regime change. ──────────────────────────────────────── [00:11:25] Jonathan Pollard Boasted on Camera That Israel Threatened Nuclear Weapons to Force the 1973 US Arms Airlift Pollard confirmed Israel threatened nuclear weapons against Egypt to force the US arms airlift during Yom Kippur War. Knight: friend of Mark Levin; with friends like this, who needs enemies. ──────────────────────────────────────── [00:14:30] Israel Spending $10 Million Against Massey and $730 Million on Propaganda — Because This Is Not in America's Interest Knight: Israel wouldn't need AIPAC, $10M to primary Massey, or $730M in propaganda if supporting Israel was in America's interest — they have to pay to manufacture our consent. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:10:36] Ford and GM Are Patenting Systems That Will Disable Your Car Based on Facial Expression and Gait Analysis Ford has patented remote repossession; GM has patented a gait monitor that bricks the car if cameras detect unsteady walking. Peters: this is months away — don't buy a new car. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:18:53] Trump's HUD Director Used AI to Audit Political Enemies' Records — the Architecture Is Now in Place for Everyone Bill Pulte used AI to find crimes in Lisa Cook's and Letitia James's real estate records. Peters: the NSA has been storing everything — they now have the capability to do this to anyone. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:29:12] Eric Peters: Don't Buy a New Car — Buy Something Old, Learn to Fix It, Own Something That Can't Be Weaponized Peters advises older vehicles that lack facial recognition, eye-tracking, and killswitch technology. Knight: earlier Americans were much more versatile and self-sufficient — that's the model. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:44:37] Eric Peters: DUI Checkpoints Inverted the Constitution — Now Everyone on a Road Is Subject to Interrogation Peters traces the 1980s checkpoint expansion that ended individualized suspicion. Texas went further with forced blood draws. Knight: the Bill of Rights exists to constrain government. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:49:44] Trump Is Now Turning on Alex Jones — Peters: Jones Kept Flipping Back Under Audience Pressure but This Time Won't Jones privately despised Trump but reversed himself under pressure. Now Trump is attacking Jones — Peters thinks Jones won't flip back this time. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:59:00] Eric Peters: New Cars Are Gray, Surveilled, and Homogenized — Color and Performance Cost Extra From monochrome paint to V8 elimination to data-mining dashboards, automakers strip out color, performance, and privacy — charging extra for anything resembling what cars used to be. ──────────────────────────────────────── Money should have intrinsic value AND transactional privacy: Go to https://davidknight.gold/ for great deals on physical gold/silver For 10% off Gerald Celente's prescient Trends Journal, go to https://trendsjournal.com/ and enter the code “KNIGHT” For high quality made in America products go to HomeSteadProducts.shop and use promo code “Knight” for 10% off your purchases Find out more about the show and where you can watch it at TheDavidKnightShow.com If you would like to support the show and our family please consider subscribing monthly here: SubscribeStar https://www.subscribestar.com/the-david-knight-show Or you can send a donation throughMail: David Knight POB 994 Kodak, TN 37764Zelle: @DavidKnightShow@protonmail.comCash App at: $davidknightshowBTC to: bc1qkuec29hkuye4xse9unh7nptvu3y9qmv24vanh7Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-david-knight-show--2653468/support.
──────────────────────────────────────── [00:03:02] Mark Levin Is Trembling at the Prospect of Peace — Calls the 14-Point Iran Deal an Existential Catastrophe Levin was visibly shaking against the 14-point deal: Iran halts enrichment, US lifts sanctions, both open the Strait. Knight: this man's life is premised on never-ending war for Israel. ──────────────────────────────────────── [00:07:21] Joe Kent: Israel's Lobby Shifted US Policy From No Nukes to No Enrichment — Making Any Deal Impossible Kent: pro-Israel think tanks shifted the US red line from Iran can't have a nuclear weapon to Iran can't enrich at all — making any deal impossible and pushing toward regime change. ──────────────────────────────────────── [00:11:25] Jonathan Pollard Boasted on Camera That Israel Threatened Nuclear Weapons to Force the 1973 US Arms Airlift Pollard confirmed Israel threatened nuclear weapons against Egypt to force the US arms airlift during Yom Kippur War. Knight: friend of Mark Levin; with friends like this, who needs enemies. ──────────────────────────────────────── [00:14:30] Israel Spending $10 Million Against Massey and $730 Million on Propaganda — Because This Is Not in America's Interest Knight: Israel wouldn't need AIPAC, $10M to primary Massey, or $730M in propaganda if supporting Israel was in America's interest — they have to pay to manufacture our consent. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:10:36] Ford and GM Are Patenting Systems That Will Disable Your Car Based on Facial Expression and Gait Analysis Ford has patented remote repossession; GM has patented a gait monitor that bricks the car if cameras detect unsteady walking. Peters: this is months away — don't buy a new car. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:18:53] Trump's HUD Director Used AI to Audit Political Enemies' Records — the Architecture Is Now in Place for Everyone Bill Pulte used AI to find crimes in Lisa Cook's and Letitia James's real estate records. Peters: the NSA has been storing everything — they now have the capability to do this to anyone. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:29:12] Eric Peters: Don't Buy a New Car — Buy Something Old, Learn to Fix It, Own Something That Can't Be Weaponized Peters advises older vehicles that lack facial recognition, eye-tracking, and killswitch technology. Knight: earlier Americans were much more versatile and self-sufficient — that's the model. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:44:37] Eric Peters: DUI Checkpoints Inverted the Constitution — Now Everyone on a Road Is Subject to Interrogation Peters traces the 1980s checkpoint expansion that ended individualized suspicion. Texas went further with forced blood draws. Knight: the Bill of Rights exists to constrain government. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:49:44] Trump Is Now Turning on Alex Jones — Peters: Jones Kept Flipping Back Under Audience Pressure but This Time Won't Jones privately despised Trump but reversed himself under pressure. Now Trump is attacking Jones — Peters thinks Jones won't flip back this time. ──────────────────────────────────────── [01:59:00] Eric Peters: New Cars Are Gray, Surveilled, and Homogenized — Color and Performance Cost Extra From monochrome paint to V8 elimination to data-mining dashboards, automakers strip out color, performance, and privacy — charging extra for anything resembling what cars used to be. ──────────────────────────────────────── Money should have intrinsic value AND transactional privacy: Go to https://davidknight.gold/ for great deals on physical gold/silver For 10% off Gerald Celente's prescient Trends Journal, go to https://trendsjournal.com/ and enter the code “KNIGHT” For high quality made in America products go to HomeSteadProducts.shop and use promo code “Knight” for 10% off your purchases Find out more about the show and where you can watch it at TheDavidKnightShow.com If you would like to support the show and our family please consider subscribing monthly here: SubscribeStar https://www.subscribestar.com/the-david-knight-show Or you can send a donation throughMail: David Knight POB 994 Kodak, TN 37764Zelle: @DavidKnightShow@protonmail.comCash App at: $davidknightshowBTC to: bc1qkuec29hkuye4xse9unh7nptvu3y9qmv24vanh7Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-real-david-knight-show--5282736/support.
What really happened in the castle.Based on a post by secret sexy writer. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Once upon a time;A merchant lived in a forest. His only daughter, Kristiana, had been a nursemaid to a wealthy family until the children became of age and the family no longer needed her services. Deciding to take some time for herself, she returned to live with her father.One morning, before he left for the market, he said to her, “Kristiana, if you could have one thing that would make you happy, what would it be?”“Finally being here with you makes me happy. I need nothing more.” Kristiana hugged her father and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Then she waved as he mounted his horse and headed off toward town.His mind still troubled him on his journey. He wanted to get something special for his daughter, but he no longer knew what she liked. And she hadn’t been much help with answers herself.She’d grown into such a beautiful woman while she’d been away. She was at least five-foot-five now, her brunette hair cascading down her back in soft waves. He remembered her mother pulling it back into pigtails not too long ago. And then Kristiana had hid it all twisted up on her head under a cap when she’d left to work for that family.That was all before his lovely wife had passed away after the terrible accident. No one had known where the beastly dogs had come from. Mariel had been tending the garden out back when they’d run out of the woods and attacked her in broad daylight.If only he’d been home at the time;He sniffed and urged his horse on. Throughout the morning as he gathered the items on his list, he focused on Kristiana. On the present. And he kept an eye out for her gift, but nothing seemed right.When he had finished his business, the merchant set off for home. The day had grown long, and the sun was already setting behind the trees of the woods. The wind grew colder, whipping his jacket about. With one hand, he struggled to hold onto the reins of the horse, his other hand clutching the satchel of merchandise tightly against his body.The sky darkened, and soon rain pelted down, soaking through his clothes. A streak of lightning spooked the horse, and then they were racing through the trees, wispy branches stinging his cheeks. Once the horse had calmed down, the merchant paused and glanced around. But under the thick cover of leaves over him, he couldn’t see the moon or tell which way to go. His only hope was that they could find some shelter and wait out the storm. His hope dwindled, though, as he led the horse among the maze of trees. He was completely lost, even in the woods he’d known most of his life.Dalemond’s Castle.Just when he was ready to give up, he noticed a dull light shining off to his right, and steered the horse toward it. As he drew near, he saw that the light belonged to a building. An inn!Lightning lit up the sky, and the merchant gasped, tightening his grip on the reins as the horse reared up. The inn was actually a massive castle!Stone walls stretched out in either direction beyond a looming gate, and towers disappeared into the night sky above him. No lights were burning in any of the windows, but a lantern swung on a post over the front door.Sliding down from his horse, the merchant pushed open the gate and entered the courtyard. The horse whinnied at another crack of lightning, but it followed behind, pawing at the ground when he tied off the reins on a metal loop in the castle wall.When he reached the door, he saw that it was open. Though he shouted, no one came to greet him. Gathering his courage, he went inside, still calling out to attract attention. On a table in the front hall, a splendid dinner lay already served. He lingered, still shouting for the owner of the castle. But no one came, and so after eyeing the food and listening to his growling stomach, the starving merchant sat down to a hearty meal.His hunger satisfied, curiosity now plagued him. Why had no one met him at the door? Who had lit the lantern? Who had prepared the meal? He called again for any acknowledgement of his arrival. Upon receiving none, he ventured through the main room. At the far end was a grand staircase. He ascended, in awe of the paintings in elaborate gold frames adorning the walls.From the landing, a corridor led off in either direction with several closed doors on each side. However, the first door on his left was open. A fire crackled in a massive stone fireplace that was taller than he was. Directly across from it sat a four-poster bed piled high with blankets and pillows.It was now late, and he could not resist the invitation before him once again. He lay down on the bed and fell fast asleep. When he woke next morning, someone had placed a mug of steaming coffee and some fruit by his bedside.The merchant had breakfast and after tidying himself up, went downstairs to thank his generous host. But, as on the evening before, there was no one in sight. Shaking his head in wonder at the strangeness of it all, he went towards the courtyard where he had left his horse. To his continual surprise, his horse was no longer tethered to the castle wall but grazing beneath a tree in the sunshine.Next to the tree were several rose bushes. Dotting the green leaves, glistening with the remnants of last night’s rain, were the largest red flowers he’d ever seen in full bloom.Thinking of his parting question to his daughter, he whispered, “It’s perfect!” And then he carefully plucked a dewy rose from its bed.No sooner had he reached for the horse’s reins than a man sprang up from behind the rose garden. He wore a dark jacket over his tunic and pants that all looked of the finest material. His thick mane of hair was mostly gray with subtle streaks of blond, and it flowed down to his shoulders. But his brown eyes were bloodshot and gleamed with fire; his mouth was curled into a snarl. His wide shoulders towered over the merchant, and his large hands reached out to him.“Ungrateful man! I gave you shelter, fed you from my table, and gave you a bed to sleep in! But now all the thanks I get is the theft of my favorite flowers!”“Forgive me! Please, do not kill me! I’ll do anything you say! The rose wasn’t for me but for my daughter, Kristiana. I wanted to bring her a special present from my journey.”“I care not why you stole from me.” The man whistled, and two large dogs, drooling and growling, appeared from around the side of the castle. “I shall put you to death for this slight!”Trembling with fear, the merchant fell on his knees before the beast of a man. “Those dogs! They were your dogs?”“What nonsense do you speak, thief?”“Your dogs killed my wife!” The merchant wanted to scream in anger, but his voice barely came out as a raspy whisper. “They attacked her in our garden. Thankfully, our only child was gone and did not witness it. I returned too late to save my wife, but I saw the dogs before they disappeared into the woods again. All these years;”The man dropped the paw of a hand he had clamped on the distraught merchant, but his voice remained a deep growl. “I shall spare your life, but on one condition. Bring me your daughter! I will not harm her, but she will remain a servant in my castle.”The merchant’s heart leapt with joy at his own fortune. But then he felt his stomach twist with terror. He’d have to trade his life for his daughter’s! They would both still be alive, but; No, she would never forgive him for leaving her alone in the world if he did not obey.With his head hung low, the merchant nodded. “So be it. I will send my daughter to you.”“Take the rose. Have her bring it back so that I know it is her. Follow the path south until you get to a clearing, and then head west. This will lead you home.” And then the beast of a man disappeared around the side of the castle with the dogs.The journey home seemed shorter than he’d expected. After settling the horse in the barn, he trudged up to the house, his shoulders heavy.Kristiana rushed out to meet him. “Father! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried!”He fell into his daughter’s arms, holding her to him, trying to remember how his grown little girl felt one last time. Then he ushered her into the house and proceeded to tell her of the events of the previous night and this morning.When he’d finished, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the rose.“I’d do anything for you!” Kristiana hugged her father. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to keep your promise. I will be fine. We will both return to the castle once you have rested.”“I fear what will happen to you. He promised not to harm you, but he said you would be his servant. I pray that he will be kind to you, at least. I will always love you, Kristiana, no matter what.”The merchant refrained from telling her what he had learned about the dogs. She need not distress over what she did not know and could not change.Prince Dalemond paced the Great Hall, growling out his frustration. Would the old man honor his promise? He should have killed him and been done with it. That was how his own father would have handled a thief. Whether a loaf of bread, a bag of coins, or a rose off a bush, stealing was stealing.But the knowledge that his precious dogs had killed the man’s wife, had left his only daughter without a mother; It reminded him of his own loneliness. He had let his emotions overpower justice, and he’d caved in. At least he would have a servant in the house now.He heard horses approaching, and then the squeal of the gate. He stepped into the shadows, waiting. There were voices outside, and then the pounding of the heavy knocker on the door.“Enter!” His voice bellowed and echoed through the empty hall.The wooden door slowly groaned open on its ancient hinges. By the day’s dying light creeping through the open doorway, he saw the merchant step inside. A young woman in a dark, green, hooded cloak followed. She carried the red rose from his garden.“You, Sir, have fulfilled your promise. You may leave us.”The woman hugged her father without any tears, and then the merchant hustled out the door.Prince Dalemond watched her from the shadows, the candlelight from the wall sconces bathing her in a soft glow. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. He’d never seen anyone so lovely.Her dark brown hair hung in long ringlets on either side of her face. The color of her cloak emphasized the green of her hazel eyes as she slowly took in her surroundings. When she lifted her hand to push back the hood, her arm moved the edge of the cloak aside.He gasped at the tight bodice of her cream-colored gown; at the swell of her breasts rising above the confines of the low neckline.She was truly a beauty.Something clenched in his gut, and he knew he would not be keeping her for a servant as he had planned. He did not want to tarnish one inch of her ivory complexion, flawless except for her cheeks tinged pink from her journey. He had not anticipated such a prize as her.He stepped out of his hiding place. When the candlelight flooded over him, he heard her gasp. “Welcome to my home, Kristiana. You are my guest. Please, may I take your cloak?”Kristiana took a step back, clutching one hand at the clasp at her throat. She stared for a moment, looking him over. She swallowed and then lifted her chin up, keeping her gaze from his. “How shall I address you, Sir?”“My name is Price Dalemond. ‘Your Highness’ will suffice.” He reached out and took her petite hand in his large one. She was shaking, and he gently squeezed her slender fingers. He raised her hand to his lips and placed the lightest kiss across her knuckles. He refrained from closing his eyes and sighing at the lavender scent of her soft skin.“Well, Your Highness, you say I am a guest, but we both know that I am a prisoner.” Kristiana pulled free from his grasp and squared her shoulders. “If you would so kindly show me to my chamber, I would like to retire for the evening.”She may have been a beauty, but he had never seen such hostility. Especially after he had extended his generosity to both her and her father. She was just as ungrateful as he had been. She should be happy to have her father still alive!With a low growl, he spun around and marched toward the grand staircase. He had prepared a room down the North Hall hear his own chambers. But now; now he led her down to the last room in the South Hall. The furthest room from the only other person in the entire castle. If she felt like a prisoner, he would treat her like one.Once they’d reached her new chamber, she waited until he opened the door, and then she entered with a minute tip of her chin. The room was dark and the air frigid. As angry as he was, he knew he could not leave her to freeze to death. Even his dogs deserved a fire on a cold night such as this.She stood just inside the doorway. He stepped past her, feeling the heat of her through the material of his shirt as his arm brushed against hers. Pushing away the resulting rush of desire to have that warmth against the rest of his body, he crossed the chamber in four long strides. After he had lit a fire, he turned back to her.Kristiana had moved to the window and drawn the curtain aside. He suddenly wanted to go to her, to apologize for his gruffness. But then he remembered the way she’d scorned him.“Dinner will be served shortly.” He made sure his tone relayed that it was a command.“I’m not hungry.” She kept her back to him. She stared out the window into the darkness instead.A muscle in his clenched jaw twitched. “Suit yourself!” And then he stormed across the room, slamming the door behind him.The moment that he was gone, Kristiana collapsed to the floor, her face in her hands. Warm tears wet her already hot cheeks.“I love you, Father! I will stay here to keep your promise, even though I detest the master of the house. I will never be happy here.”She glanced at the door, remembering how the prince had towered at least a foot above her. How her hand had disappeared in his when he’d welcomed her. How while she feared him, something inside drew her to him. And that frightened her even more.Her stomach growled, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting she had lied. She removed her cloak and laid it across the winged armchair by the fire instead. Then she crossed to the four-poster bed, climbing up onto the simple mattress covered by a thin quilt. An even thinner blanket lay folded at the footboard.An derisive grunt escaped when she thought of it. Meager accommodations for the prisoner. What else should she have expected?The pillow was soft, though, when she laid her head down. She watched the fire flickering across the small room, thankful for at least that source of heat. Shivers shook her body, and she hugged her arms to her chest, curling into a ball on top of the quilt. Tears trickled down her cheek again as she thought of her predicament.At some point, she must have drifted off because she felt someone watching her and she sat up with a gasp. But there was no one else there. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and why. She looked around at the fire blazing in the fireplace; her cloak on the chair; the plate of food on the table beside the chair; the blanket lying over her body.She may be alone now, but someone had been in the room. Did she dare hope that it had been Prince Dalemond? Who else could it have been? Father had mentioned there had been no one else in the castle the night before.If it had been her host, why did she even care? He was a brute of a man. Only a monster would demand on killing a man for picking a flower; or imprison a young woman as a hostage in his castle. She would be wise to keep her distance from him. Surely, she could find something to do to while away the days she was being held captive. Because deep down, she just knew he would grow tired of her and this wicked game he was playing. Then he would set her free.Kristiana was halfway across the chamber, no longer able to resist the tray of meats, cheeses, and fruit and the pitcher she hoped contained wine, when the thought occurred to her.What if he did tire of his game; but he left her hidden away, forgetting about her instead of setting her free? She would never see Father again!Fresh tears choked her throat. Somehow, she managed to clean the tray before curling up in the chair. Her eyes felt drowsy from the wine. Pulling her cloak over her, she succumbed to sleep. She dreamed that someone was watching her again. And then a warm body carried her. A disarray of memories followed, mainly of her mother.She woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in the window, the curtains drawn aside. The fire still burned and a new tray of breads and fruit sat on the table. She stretched, yawning and then froze. She was lying in the bed under layers of thick blankets. It had not been a dream. Someone had carried her there.After a quick breakfast, she washed her face at the basin filled with cool water. When she turned back to the bed, she noticed the wardrobe’s doors were partially ajar. She slowly pulled the doors open all of the way and gasped. Inside hung dresses in a multitude of colors.She couldn’t help wondering why someone so mean he would keep her captive would also show such acts of kindness. 'His Highness’ was an enigma. And a small part of her begged to understand him.Choosing a pale yellow dress, she changed her clothes and brushed out her hair. It was time to explore her prison, such as it was.Prince Dalemond had searched every room but one by noontime. Kristiana was nowhere to be found. He hoped she had not run away. Despite his frustration at her stubbornness last night, he had enjoyed watching her sleep. She had seemed so peaceful. So innocent. Besides, it wasn’t her fault she was here. If her father hadn’t stolen the rose;He grunted and thought of her creamy breasts rising and falling in her sleep. How her lips had parted with a soft sigh when he’d moved her from the chair. How light her small body had felt in his arms. He’d wanted to kiss her but had refrained.Now; now he wanted to scream. Where was she? How dare she hide from him!He pushed open the final door, the door to the library, his breath huffing. And then he froze.Kristiana sat in the window seat, the skirts of her yellow dress pooled around her, a small stack of books beside her. Her head rose with a start, and she dropped the book she’d been reading.For the longest moment, they just stared at each other. Her heavy breathing drew his eyes downward. A low moan escaped as his gut tightened.“Was there something you wanted?”Her quiet voice broke the spell over him. He lifted his eyes to hers again, swallowing his honesty. Instead, he forced a smile and said, “It’s time for the noon meal. Care to join me in the Great Hall?”She blinked, opened her mouth,
What really happened in the castle.Based on a post by secret sexy writer. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Once upon a time;A merchant lived in a forest. His only daughter, Kristiana, had been a nursemaid to a wealthy family until the children became of age and the family no longer needed her services. Deciding to take some time for herself, she returned to live with her father.One morning, before he left for the market, he said to her, “Kristiana, if you could have one thing that would make you happy, what would it be?”“Finally being here with you makes me happy. I need nothing more.” Kristiana hugged her father and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Then she waved as he mounted his horse and headed off toward town.His mind still troubled him on his journey. He wanted to get something special for his daughter, but he no longer knew what she liked. And she hadn’t been much help with answers herself.She’d grown into such a beautiful woman while she’d been away. She was at least five-foot-five now, her brunette hair cascading down her back in soft waves. He remembered her mother pulling it back into pigtails not too long ago. And then Kristiana had hid it all twisted up on her head under a cap when she’d left to work for that family.That was all before his lovely wife had passed away after the terrible accident. No one had known where the beastly dogs had come from. Mariel had been tending the garden out back when they’d run out of the woods and attacked her in broad daylight.If only he’d been home at the time;He sniffed and urged his horse on. Throughout the morning as he gathered the items on his list, he focused on Kristiana. On the present. And he kept an eye out for her gift, but nothing seemed right.When he had finished his business, the merchant set off for home. The day had grown long, and the sun was already setting behind the trees of the woods. The wind grew colder, whipping his jacket about. With one hand, he struggled to hold onto the reins of the horse, his other hand clutching the satchel of merchandise tightly against his body.The sky darkened, and soon rain pelted down, soaking through his clothes. A streak of lightning spooked the horse, and then they were racing through the trees, wispy branches stinging his cheeks. Once the horse had calmed down, the merchant paused and glanced around. But under the thick cover of leaves over him, he couldn’t see the moon or tell which way to go. His only hope was that they could find some shelter and wait out the storm. His hope dwindled, though, as he led the horse among the maze of trees. He was completely lost, even in the woods he’d known most of his life.Dalemond’s Castle.Just when he was ready to give up, he noticed a dull light shining off to his right, and steered the horse toward it. As he drew near, he saw that the light belonged to a building. An inn!Lightning lit up the sky, and the merchant gasped, tightening his grip on the reins as the horse reared up. The inn was actually a massive castle!Stone walls stretched out in either direction beyond a looming gate, and towers disappeared into the night sky above him. No lights were burning in any of the windows, but a lantern swung on a post over the front door.Sliding down from his horse, the merchant pushed open the gate and entered the courtyard. The horse whinnied at another crack of lightning, but it followed behind, pawing at the ground when he tied off the reins on a metal loop in the castle wall.When he reached the door, he saw that it was open. Though he shouted, no one came to greet him. Gathering his courage, he went inside, still calling out to attract attention. On a table in the front hall, a splendid dinner lay already served. He lingered, still shouting for the owner of the castle. But no one came, and so after eyeing the food and listening to his growling stomach, the starving merchant sat down to a hearty meal.His hunger satisfied, curiosity now plagued him. Why had no one met him at the door? Who had lit the lantern? Who had prepared the meal? He called again for any acknowledgement of his arrival. Upon receiving none, he ventured through the main room. At the far end was a grand staircase. He ascended, in awe of the paintings in elaborate gold frames adorning the walls.From the landing, a corridor led off in either direction with several closed doors on each side. However, the first door on his left was open. A fire crackled in a massive stone fireplace that was taller than he was. Directly across from it sat a four-poster bed piled high with blankets and pillows.It was now late, and he could not resist the invitation before him once again. He lay down on the bed and fell fast asleep. When he woke next morning, someone had placed a mug of steaming coffee and some fruit by his bedside.The merchant had breakfast and after tidying himself up, went downstairs to thank his generous host. But, as on the evening before, there was no one in sight. Shaking his head in wonder at the strangeness of it all, he went towards the courtyard where he had left his horse. To his continual surprise, his horse was no longer tethered to the castle wall but grazing beneath a tree in the sunshine.Next to the tree were several rose bushes. Dotting the green leaves, glistening with the remnants of last night’s rain, were the largest red flowers he’d ever seen in full bloom.Thinking of his parting question to his daughter, he whispered, “It’s perfect!” And then he carefully plucked a dewy rose from its bed.No sooner had he reached for the horse’s reins than a man sprang up from behind the rose garden. He wore a dark jacket over his tunic and pants that all looked of the finest material. His thick mane of hair was mostly gray with subtle streaks of blond, and it flowed down to his shoulders. But his brown eyes were bloodshot and gleamed with fire; his mouth was curled into a snarl. His wide shoulders towered over the merchant, and his large hands reached out to him.“Ungrateful man! I gave you shelter, fed you from my table, and gave you a bed to sleep in! But now all the thanks I get is the theft of my favorite flowers!”“Forgive me! Please, do not kill me! I’ll do anything you say! The rose wasn’t for me but for my daughter, Kristiana. I wanted to bring her a special present from my journey.”“I care not why you stole from me.” The man whistled, and two large dogs, drooling and growling, appeared from around the side of the castle. “I shall put you to death for this slight!”Trembling with fear, the merchant fell on his knees before the beast of a man. “Those dogs! They were your dogs?”“What nonsense do you speak, thief?”“Your dogs killed my wife!” The merchant wanted to scream in anger, but his voice barely came out as a raspy whisper. “They attacked her in our garden. Thankfully, our only child was gone and did not witness it. I returned too late to save my wife, but I saw the dogs before they disappeared into the woods again. All these years;”The man dropped the paw of a hand he had clamped on the distraught merchant, but his voice remained a deep growl. “I shall spare your life, but on one condition. Bring me your daughter! I will not harm her, but she will remain a servant in my castle.”The merchant’s heart leapt with joy at his own fortune. But then he felt his stomach twist with terror. He’d have to trade his life for his daughter’s! They would both still be alive, but; No, she would never forgive him for leaving her alone in the world if he did not obey.With his head hung low, the merchant nodded. “So be it. I will send my daughter to you.”“Take the rose. Have her bring it back so that I know it is her. Follow the path south until you get to a clearing, and then head west. This will lead you home.” And then the beast of a man disappeared around the side of the castle with the dogs.The journey home seemed shorter than he’d expected. After settling the horse in the barn, he trudged up to the house, his shoulders heavy.Kristiana rushed out to meet him. “Father! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried!”He fell into his daughter’s arms, holding her to him, trying to remember how his grown little girl felt one last time. Then he ushered her into the house and proceeded to tell her of the events of the previous night and this morning.When he’d finished, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the rose.“I’d do anything for you!” Kristiana hugged her father. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to keep your promise. I will be fine. We will both return to the castle once you have rested.”“I fear what will happen to you. He promised not to harm you, but he said you would be his servant. I pray that he will be kind to you, at least. I will always love you, Kristiana, no matter what.”The merchant refrained from telling her what he had learned about the dogs. She need not distress over what she did not know and could not change.Prince Dalemond paced the Great Hall, growling out his frustration. Would the old man honor his promise? He should have killed him and been done with it. That was how his own father would have handled a thief. Whether a loaf of bread, a bag of coins, or a rose off a bush, stealing was stealing.But the knowledge that his precious dogs had killed the man’s wife, had left his only daughter without a mother; It reminded him of his own loneliness. He had let his emotions overpower justice, and he’d caved in. At least he would have a servant in the house now.He heard horses approaching, and then the squeal of the gate. He stepped into the shadows, waiting. There were voices outside, and then the pounding of the heavy knocker on the door.“Enter!” His voice bellowed and echoed through the empty hall.The wooden door slowly groaned open on its ancient hinges. By the day’s dying light creeping through the open doorway, he saw the merchant step inside. A young woman in a dark, green, hooded cloak followed. She carried the red rose from his garden.“You, Sir, have fulfilled your promise. You may leave us.”The woman hugged her father without any tears, and then the merchant hustled out the door.Prince Dalemond watched her from the shadows, the candlelight from the wall sconces bathing her in a soft glow. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. He’d never seen anyone so lovely.Her dark brown hair hung in long ringlets on either side of her face. The color of her cloak emphasized the green of her hazel eyes as she slowly took in her surroundings. When she lifted her hand to push back the hood, her arm moved the edge of the cloak aside.He gasped at the tight bodice of her cream-colored gown; at the swell of her breasts rising above the confines of the low neckline.She was truly a beauty.Something clenched in his gut, and he knew he would not be keeping her for a servant as he had planned. He did not want to tarnish one inch of her ivory complexion, flawless except for her cheeks tinged pink from her journey. He had not anticipated such a prize as her.He stepped out of his hiding place. When the candlelight flooded over him, he heard her gasp. “Welcome to my home, Kristiana. You are my guest. Please, may I take your cloak?”Kristiana took a step back, clutching one hand at the clasp at her throat. She stared for a moment, looking him over. She swallowed and then lifted her chin up, keeping her gaze from his. “How shall I address you, Sir?”“My name is Price Dalemond. ‘Your Highness’ will suffice.” He reached out and took her petite hand in his large one. She was shaking, and he gently squeezed her slender fingers. He raised her hand to his lips and placed the lightest kiss across her knuckles. He refrained from closing his eyes and sighing at the lavender scent of her soft skin.“Well, Your Highness, you say I am a guest, but we both know that I am a prisoner.” Kristiana pulled free from his grasp and squared her shoulders. “If you would so kindly show me to my chamber, I would like to retire for the evening.”She may have been a beauty, but he had never seen such hostility. Especially after he had extended his generosity to both her and her father. She was just as ungrateful as he had been. She should be happy to have her father still alive!With a low growl, he spun around and marched toward the grand staircase. He had prepared a room down the North Hall hear his own chambers. But now; now he led her down to the last room in the South Hall. The furthest room from the only other person in the entire castle. If she felt like a prisoner, he would treat her like one.Once they’d reached her new chamber, she waited until he opened the door, and then she entered with a minute tip of her chin. The room was dark and the air frigid. As angry as he was, he knew he could not leave her to freeze to death. Even his dogs deserved a fire on a cold night such as this.She stood just inside the doorway. He stepped past her, feeling the heat of her through the material of his shirt as his arm brushed against hers. Pushing away the resulting rush of desire to have that warmth against the rest of his body, he crossed the chamber in four long strides. After he had lit a fire, he turned back to her.Kristiana had moved to the window and drawn the curtain aside. He suddenly wanted to go to her, to apologize for his gruffness. But then he remembered the way she’d scorned him.“Dinner will be served shortly.” He made sure his tone relayed that it was a command.“I’m not hungry.” She kept her back to him. She stared out the window into the darkness instead.A muscle in his clenched jaw twitched. “Suit yourself!” And then he stormed across the room, slamming the door behind him.The moment that he was gone, Kristiana collapsed to the floor, her face in her hands. Warm tears wet her already hot cheeks.“I love you, Father! I will stay here to keep your promise, even though I detest the master of the house. I will never be happy here.”She glanced at the door, remembering how the prince had towered at least a foot above her. How her hand had disappeared in his when he’d welcomed her. How while she feared him, something inside drew her to him. And that frightened her even more.Her stomach growled, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting she had lied. She removed her cloak and laid it across the winged armchair by the fire instead. Then she crossed to the four-poster bed, climbing up onto the simple mattress covered by a thin quilt. An even thinner blanket lay folded at the footboard.An derisive grunt escaped when she thought of it. Meager accommodations for the prisoner. What else should she have expected?The pillow was soft, though, when she laid her head down. She watched the fire flickering across the small room, thankful for at least that source of heat. Shivers shook her body, and she hugged her arms to her chest, curling into a ball on top of the quilt. Tears trickled down her cheek again as she thought of her predicament.At some point, she must have drifted off because she felt someone watching her and she sat up with a gasp. But there was no one else there. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and why. She looked around at the fire blazing in the fireplace; her cloak on the chair; the plate of food on the table beside the chair; the blanket lying over her body.She may be alone now, but someone had been in the room. Did she dare hope that it had been Prince Dalemond? Who else could it have been? Father had mentioned there had been no one else in the castle the night before.If it had been her host, why did she even care? He was a brute of a man. Only a monster would demand on killing a man for picking a flower; or imprison a young woman as a hostage in his castle. She would be wise to keep her distance from him. Surely, she could find something to do to while away the days she was being held captive. Because deep down, she just knew he would grow tired of her and this wicked game he was playing. Then he would set her free.Kristiana was halfway across the chamber, no longer able to resist the tray of meats, cheeses, and fruit and the pitcher she hoped contained wine, when the thought occurred to her.What if he did tire of his game; but he left her hidden away, forgetting about her instead of setting her free? She would never see Father again!Fresh tears choked her throat. Somehow, she managed to clean the tray before curling up in the chair. Her eyes felt drowsy from the wine. Pulling her cloak over her, she succumbed to sleep. She dreamed that someone was watching her again. And then a warm body carried her. A disarray of memories followed, mainly of her mother.She woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in the window, the curtains drawn aside. The fire still burned and a new tray of breads and fruit sat on the table. She stretched, yawning and then froze. She was lying in the bed under layers of thick blankets. It had not been a dream. Someone had carried her there.After a quick breakfast, she washed her face at the basin filled with cool water. When she turned back to the bed, she noticed the wardrobe’s doors were partially ajar. She slowly pulled the doors open all of the way and gasped. Inside hung dresses in a multitude of colors.She couldn’t help wondering why someone so mean he would keep her captive would also show such acts of kindness. 'His Highness’ was an enigma. And a small part of her begged to understand him.Choosing a pale yellow dress, she changed her clothes and brushed out her hair. It was time to explore her prison, such as it was.Prince Dalemond had searched every room but one by noontime. Kristiana was nowhere to be found. He hoped she had not run away. Despite his frustration at her stubbornness last night, he had enjoyed watching her sleep. She had seemed so peaceful. So innocent. Besides, it wasn’t her fault she was here. If her father hadn’t stolen the rose;He grunted and thought of her creamy breasts rising and falling in her sleep. How her lips had parted with a soft sigh when he’d moved her from the chair. How light her small body had felt in his arms. He’d wanted to kiss her but had refrained.Now; now he wanted to scream. Where was she? How dare she hide from him!He pushed open the final door, the door to the library, his breath huffing. And then he froze.Kristiana sat in the window seat, the skirts of her yellow dress pooled around her, a small stack of books beside her. Her head rose with a start, and she dropped the book she’d been reading.For the longest moment, they just stared at each other. Her heavy breathing drew his eyes downward. A low moan escaped as his gut tightened.“Was there something you wanted?”Her quiet voice broke the spell over him. He lifted his eyes to hers again, swallowing his honesty. Instead, he forced a smile and said, “It’s time for the noon meal. Care to join me in the Great Hall?”She blinked, opened her mouth,
What really happened in the castle.Based on a post by secret sexy writer. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Once upon a time;A merchant lived in a forest. His only daughter, Kristiana, had been a nursemaid to a wealthy family until the children became of age and the family no longer needed her services. Deciding to take some time for herself, she returned to live with her father.One morning, before he left for the market, he said to her, “Kristiana, if you could have one thing that would make you happy, what would it be?”“Finally being here with you makes me happy. I need nothing more.” Kristiana hugged her father and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Then she waved as he mounted his horse and headed off toward town.His mind still troubled him on his journey. He wanted to get something special for his daughter, but he no longer knew what she liked. And she hadn’t been much help with answers herself.She’d grown into such a beautiful woman while she’d been away. She was at least five-foot-five now, her brunette hair cascading down her back in soft waves. He remembered her mother pulling it back into pigtails not too long ago. And then Kristiana had hid it all twisted up on her head under a cap when she’d left to work for that family.That was all before his lovely wife had passed away after the terrible accident. No one had known where the beastly dogs had come from. Mariel had been tending the garden out back when they’d run out of the woods and attacked her in broad daylight.If only he’d been home at the time;He sniffed and urged his horse on. Throughout the morning as he gathered the items on his list, he focused on Kristiana. On the present. And he kept an eye out for her gift, but nothing seemed right.When he had finished his business, the merchant set off for home. The day had grown long, and the sun was already setting behind the trees of the woods. The wind grew colder, whipping his jacket about. With one hand, he struggled to hold onto the reins of the horse, his other hand clutching the satchel of merchandise tightly against his body.The sky darkened, and soon rain pelted down, soaking through his clothes. A streak of lightning spooked the horse, and then they were racing through the trees, wispy branches stinging his cheeks. Once the horse had calmed down, the merchant paused and glanced around. But under the thick cover of leaves over him, he couldn’t see the moon or tell which way to go. His only hope was that they could find some shelter and wait out the storm. His hope dwindled, though, as he led the horse among the maze of trees. He was completely lost, even in the woods he’d known most of his life.Dalemond’s Castle.Just when he was ready to give up, he noticed a dull light shining off to his right, and steered the horse toward it. As he drew near, he saw that the light belonged to a building. An inn!Lightning lit up the sky, and the merchant gasped, tightening his grip on the reins as the horse reared up. The inn was actually a massive castle!Stone walls stretched out in either direction beyond a looming gate, and towers disappeared into the night sky above him. No lights were burning in any of the windows, but a lantern swung on a post over the front door.Sliding down from his horse, the merchant pushed open the gate and entered the courtyard. The horse whinnied at another crack of lightning, but it followed behind, pawing at the ground when he tied off the reins on a metal loop in the castle wall.When he reached the door, he saw that it was open. Though he shouted, no one came to greet him. Gathering his courage, he went inside, still calling out to attract attention. On a table in the front hall, a splendid dinner lay already served. He lingered, still shouting for the owner of the castle. But no one came, and so after eyeing the food and listening to his growling stomach, the starving merchant sat down to a hearty meal.His hunger satisfied, curiosity now plagued him. Why had no one met him at the door? Who had lit the lantern? Who had prepared the meal? He called again for any acknowledgement of his arrival. Upon receiving none, he ventured through the main room. At the far end was a grand staircase. He ascended, in awe of the paintings in elaborate gold frames adorning the walls.From the landing, a corridor led off in either direction with several closed doors on each side. However, the first door on his left was open. A fire crackled in a massive stone fireplace that was taller than he was. Directly across from it sat a four-poster bed piled high with blankets and pillows.It was now late, and he could not resist the invitation before him once again. He lay down on the bed and fell fast asleep. When he woke next morning, someone had placed a mug of steaming coffee and some fruit by his bedside.The merchant had breakfast and after tidying himself up, went downstairs to thank his generous host. But, as on the evening before, there was no one in sight. Shaking his head in wonder at the strangeness of it all, he went towards the courtyard where he had left his horse. To his continual surprise, his horse was no longer tethered to the castle wall but grazing beneath a tree in the sunshine.Next to the tree were several rose bushes. Dotting the green leaves, glistening with the remnants of last night’s rain, were the largest red flowers he’d ever seen in full bloom.Thinking of his parting question to his daughter, he whispered, “It’s perfect!” And then he carefully plucked a dewy rose from its bed.No sooner had he reached for the horse’s reins than a man sprang up from behind the rose garden. He wore a dark jacket over his tunic and pants that all looked of the finest material. His thick mane of hair was mostly gray with subtle streaks of blond, and it flowed down to his shoulders. But his brown eyes were bloodshot and gleamed with fire; his mouth was curled into a snarl. His wide shoulders towered over the merchant, and his large hands reached out to him.“Ungrateful man! I gave you shelter, fed you from my table, and gave you a bed to sleep in! But now all the thanks I get is the theft of my favorite flowers!”“Forgive me! Please, do not kill me! I’ll do anything you say! The rose wasn’t for me but for my daughter, Kristiana. I wanted to bring her a special present from my journey.”“I care not why you stole from me.” The man whistled, and two large dogs, drooling and growling, appeared from around the side of the castle. “I shall put you to death for this slight!”Trembling with fear, the merchant fell on his knees before the beast of a man. “Those dogs! They were your dogs?”“What nonsense do you speak, thief?”“Your dogs killed my wife!” The merchant wanted to scream in anger, but his voice barely came out as a raspy whisper. “They attacked her in our garden. Thankfully, our only child was gone and did not witness it. I returned too late to save my wife, but I saw the dogs before they disappeared into the woods again. All these years;”The man dropped the paw of a hand he had clamped on the distraught merchant, but his voice remained a deep growl. “I shall spare your life, but on one condition. Bring me your daughter! I will not harm her, but she will remain a servant in my castle.”The merchant’s heart leapt with joy at his own fortune. But then he felt his stomach twist with terror. He’d have to trade his life for his daughter’s! They would both still be alive, but; No, she would never forgive him for leaving her alone in the world if he did not obey.With his head hung low, the merchant nodded. “So be it. I will send my daughter to you.”“Take the rose. Have her bring it back so that I know it is her. Follow the path south until you get to a clearing, and then head west. This will lead you home.” And then the beast of a man disappeared around the side of the castle with the dogs.The journey home seemed shorter than he’d expected. After settling the horse in the barn, he trudged up to the house, his shoulders heavy.Kristiana rushed out to meet him. “Father! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried!”He fell into his daughter’s arms, holding her to him, trying to remember how his grown little girl felt one last time. Then he ushered her into the house and proceeded to tell her of the events of the previous night and this morning.When he’d finished, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the rose.“I’d do anything for you!” Kristiana hugged her father. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to keep your promise. I will be fine. We will both return to the castle once you have rested.”“I fear what will happen to you. He promised not to harm you, but he said you would be his servant. I pray that he will be kind to you, at least. I will always love you, Kristiana, no matter what.”The merchant refrained from telling her what he had learned about the dogs. She need not distress over what she did not know and could not change.Prince Dalemond paced the Great Hall, growling out his frustration. Would the old man honor his promise? He should have killed him and been done with it. That was how his own father would have handled a thief. Whether a loaf of bread, a bag of coins, or a rose off a bush, stealing was stealing.But the knowledge that his precious dogs had killed the man’s wife, had left his only daughter without a mother; It reminded him of his own loneliness. He had let his emotions overpower justice, and he’d caved in. At least he would have a servant in the house now.He heard horses approaching, and then the squeal of the gate. He stepped into the shadows, waiting. There were voices outside, and then the pounding of the heavy knocker on the door.“Enter!” His voice bellowed and echoed through the empty hall.The wooden door slowly groaned open on its ancient hinges. By the day’s dying light creeping through the open doorway, he saw the merchant step inside. A young woman in a dark, green, hooded cloak followed. She carried the red rose from his garden.“You, Sir, have fulfilled your promise. You may leave us.”The woman hugged her father without any tears, and then the merchant hustled out the door.Prince Dalemond watched her from the shadows, the candlelight from the wall sconces bathing her in a soft glow. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. He’d never seen anyone so lovely.Her dark brown hair hung in long ringlets on either side of her face. The color of her cloak emphasized the green of her hazel eyes as she slowly took in her surroundings. When she lifted her hand to push back the hood, her arm moved the edge of the cloak aside.He gasped at the tight bodice of her cream-colored gown; at the swell of her breasts rising above the confines of the low neckline.She was truly a beauty.Something clenched in his gut, and he knew he would not be keeping her for a servant as he had planned. He did not want to tarnish one inch of her ivory complexion, flawless except for her cheeks tinged pink from her journey. He had not anticipated such a prize as her.He stepped out of his hiding place. When the candlelight flooded over him, he heard her gasp. “Welcome to my home, Kristiana. You are my guest. Please, may I take your cloak?”Kristiana took a step back, clutching one hand at the clasp at her throat. She stared for a moment, looking him over. She swallowed and then lifted her chin up, keeping her gaze from his. “How shall I address you, Sir?”“My name is Price Dalemond. ‘Your Highness’ will suffice.” He reached out and took her petite hand in his large one. She was shaking, and he gently squeezed her slender fingers. He raised her hand to his lips and placed the lightest kiss across her knuckles. He refrained from closing his eyes and sighing at the lavender scent of her soft skin.“Well, Your Highness, you say I am a guest, but we both know that I am a prisoner.” Kristiana pulled free from his grasp and squared her shoulders. “If you would so kindly show me to my chamber, I would like to retire for the evening.”She may have been a beauty, but he had never seen such hostility. Especially after he had extended his generosity to both her and her father. She was just as ungrateful as he had been. She should be happy to have her father still alive!With a low growl, he spun around and marched toward the grand staircase. He had prepared a room down the North Hall hear his own chambers. But now; now he led her down to the last room in the South Hall. The furthest room from the only other person in the entire castle. If she felt like a prisoner, he would treat her like one.Once they’d reached her new chamber, she waited until he opened the door, and then she entered with a minute tip of her chin. The room was dark and the air frigid. As angry as he was, he knew he could not leave her to freeze to death. Even his dogs deserved a fire on a cold night such as this.She stood just inside the doorway. He stepped past her, feeling the heat of her through the material of his shirt as his arm brushed against hers. Pushing away the resulting rush of desire to have that warmth against the rest of his body, he crossed the chamber in four long strides. After he had lit a fire, he turned back to her.Kristiana had moved to the window and drawn the curtain aside. He suddenly wanted to go to her, to apologize for his gruffness. But then he remembered the way she’d scorned him.“Dinner will be served shortly.” He made sure his tone relayed that it was a command.“I’m not hungry.” She kept her back to him. She stared out the window into the darkness instead.A muscle in his clenched jaw twitched. “Suit yourself!” And then he stormed across the room, slamming the door behind him.The moment that he was gone, Kristiana collapsed to the floor, her face in her hands. Warm tears wet her already hot cheeks.“I love you, Father! I will stay here to keep your promise, even though I detest the master of the house. I will never be happy here.”She glanced at the door, remembering how the prince had towered at least a foot above her. How her hand had disappeared in his when he’d welcomed her. How while she feared him, something inside drew her to him. And that frightened her even more.Her stomach growled, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting she had lied. She removed her cloak and laid it across the winged armchair by the fire instead. Then she crossed to the four-poster bed, climbing up onto the simple mattress covered by a thin quilt. An even thinner blanket lay folded at the footboard.An derisive grunt escaped when she thought of it. Meager accommodations for the prisoner. What else should she have expected?The pillow was soft, though, when she laid her head down. She watched the fire flickering across the small room, thankful for at least that source of heat. Shivers shook her body, and she hugged her arms to her chest, curling into a ball on top of the quilt. Tears trickled down her cheek again as she thought of her predicament.At some point, she must have drifted off because she felt someone watching her and she sat up with a gasp. But there was no one else there. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and why. She looked around at the fire blazing in the fireplace; her cloak on the chair; the plate of food on the table beside the chair; the blanket lying over her body.She may be alone now, but someone had been in the room. Did she dare hope that it had been Prince Dalemond? Who else could it have been? Father had mentioned there had been no one else in the castle the night before.If it had been her host, why did she even care? He was a brute of a man. Only a monster would demand on killing a man for picking a flower; or imprison a young woman as a hostage in his castle. She would be wise to keep her distance from him. Surely, she could find something to do to while away the days she was being held captive. Because deep down, she just knew he would grow tired of her and this wicked game he was playing. Then he would set her free.Kristiana was halfway across the chamber, no longer able to resist the tray of meats, cheeses, and fruit and the pitcher she hoped contained wine, when the thought occurred to her.What if he did tire of his game; but he left her hidden away, forgetting about her instead of setting her free? She would never see Father again!Fresh tears choked her throat. Somehow, she managed to clean the tray before curling up in the chair. Her eyes felt drowsy from the wine. Pulling her cloak over her, she succumbed to sleep. She dreamed that someone was watching her again. And then a warm body carried her. A disarray of memories followed, mainly of her mother.She woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in the window, the curtains drawn aside. The fire still burned and a new tray of breads and fruit sat on the table. She stretched, yawning and then froze. She was lying in the bed under layers of thick blankets. It had not been a dream. Someone had carried her there.After a quick breakfast, she washed her face at the basin filled with cool water. When she turned back to the bed, she noticed the wardrobe’s doors were partially ajar. She slowly pulled the doors open all of the way and gasped. Inside hung dresses in a multitude of colors.She couldn’t help wondering why someone so mean he would keep her captive would also show such acts of kindness. 'His Highness’ was an enigma. And a small part of her begged to understand him.Choosing a pale yellow dress, she changed her clothes and brushed out her hair. It was time to explore her prison, such as it was.Prince Dalemond had searched every room but one by noontime. Kristiana was nowhere to be found. He hoped she had not run away. Despite his frustration at her stubbornness last night, he had enjoyed watching her sleep. She had seemed so peaceful. So innocent. Besides, it wasn’t her fault she was here. If her father hadn’t stolen the rose;He grunted and thought of her creamy breasts rising and falling in her sleep. How her lips had parted with a soft sigh when he’d moved her from the chair. How light her small body had felt in his arms. He’d wanted to kiss her but had refrained.Now; now he wanted to scream. Where was she? How dare she hide from him!He pushed open the final door, the door to the library, his breath huffing. And then he froze.Kristiana sat in the window seat, the skirts of her yellow dress pooled around her, a small stack of books beside her. Her head rose with a start, and she dropped the book she’d been reading.For the longest moment, they just stared at each other. Her heavy breathing drew his eyes downward. A low moan escaped as his gut tightened.“Was there something you wanted?”Her quiet voice broke the spell over him. He lifted his eyes to hers again, swallowing his honesty. Instead, he forced a smile and said, “It’s time for the noon meal. Care to join me in the Great Hall?”She blinked, opened her mouth,
What does it feel like when your body starts moving before your mind has any idea why?For Mike Maher, the answer came in the basement of a hotel in Poland — lights off, a room full of strangers, thirty rhythmic breaths — and then tears, trembling, and a release he couldn't explain. That single session with Wim Hof lit a fire that eventually became the Take a Deep Breath YouTube channel, one of the largest breathwork communities on the planet, and a decade-long exploration into what breath can actually do for the human nervous system.In this episode, Alex sits down with Mike for a wide-ranging conversation about breathwork as a complete system — not a single technique, but a full toolkit for nervous system regulation. Together they trace Mike's journey from stressed corporate professional to one of the field's most trusted educators, exploring his RESET framework, what he learned from training breath holds underwater with the world record holder, the 90-day CO2 documentary he's launching, and why the simplest ancestral practices — bare feet on soil, morning light, quiet air — might carry more physiological weight than any sophisticated technique. And along the way, they wander into the territory closest to home for the NI community: the intersection of breathwork and TRE (Tension and Trauma Releasing Exercises) — and what happens when the body starts tremoring during a breath session and you finally stop fighting it. If you've ever wondered how breathwork and TRE relate, or felt both practices pulling toward the same place in the body, this conversation is for you.Mike Maher is a breathwork coach, educator, and content creator who spent 12 years in the corporate world before a sequence of transformational experiences — a Wim Hof retreat, Tony Robbins events, and walking the Camino de Santiago — set him on a different path. Drawing on a background in video production and storytelling, he built the Take A Deep Breath YouTube channel into one of the largest breathwork platforms in the world, with 300,000+ subscribers and 42 million views. His podcast has featured deep conversations with James Nestor, Patrick McKeown, Dr. Belisa Vranich, and many others at the frontier of breathing, trauma, and performance. He works with clients one-on-one, leads group programs, and teaches a full-spectrum approach that blends functional technique with nervous system science and genuine embodied practice. Mike is also currently a student in the Neurogenic Integration TRE Certification program, deepening his understanding of how neurogenic tremoring and breathwork can work together as complementary pathways to nervous system regulation.⏱ KEY HIGHLIGHTS00:00 — Welcome & Introductions03:30 — Mike's Origin Story: Steve Jobs, Joe Rogan & the Road to Wim Hof06:00 — The Poland Retreat: Tears, Trembling & an Unexplained Release08:00 — When Wim Hof Was Making the Anxiety Worse11:00 — The Podcast as Education: James Nestor, Patrick McKeown & Learning from the Best13:00 — The RESET Framework: A Full Map of Breathwork in Five Categories19:00 — Mike's Personal Learning Curve: From Oxygen Advantage to Rebirthing in a Hot Tub22:00 — A Full Rebirthing Experience in Glastonbury26:00 — Breath Holds, Willpower & Training with the World Record Holder28:00 — The 90-Day CO2 Therapy Documentary: What Mike Is Testing & Why33:00 — Ancestral Living: Earthing, Light Exposure & Things Too Simple to Ignore40:00 — Discovering Neurogenic Tremoring44:00 — Where Breathwork and TRE
Philippians 2:12-13 (ESV)Isack and Edwin discuss why our work matters even though we are not saved by our own work.Read the written devo that goes along with this episode by clicking here. Let us know what you are learning or any questions you have. Email us at TextTalk@ChristiansMeetHere.org. Join the Facebook community and join the conversation by clicking here. We'd love to meet you. Be a guest among the Christians who meet on Livingston Avenue. Click here to find out more. Michael Eldridge sang all four parts of our theme song. Find more from him by clicking here. Thanks for talking about the text with us today.________________________________________________If the hyperlinks do not work, copy the following addresses and paste them into the URL bar of your web browser: Daily Written Devo: https://readthebiblemakedisciples.wordpress.com/?p=25212The Christians Who Meet on Livingston Avenue: http://www.christiansmeethere.org/Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/TalkAboutTheTextFacebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/texttalkMichael Eldridge: https://acapeldridge.com/
“O cinematógrafo é uma escrita com imagens em movimento e sons.”(Robert Bresson)Mantendo-se fiel a Bresson, inauguramos nossa coluna sobre cinema e produções audiovisuais, VULTOS & SOMBRAS. Uma homenagem aos movimentos indistintos e fantasmagóricos que surgem no canto de nossos olhos e que nos oferecem, mediante rituais adequados, nossa quota de maravilhamento com a narrativa audiovisual.Episódio de hoje: Tramas e sacrifícios (sobre “Ifigênia”, de Michael CacoyannisFilme: “Iphigenia” (1977), de Michael Cacoyannis, relançamento em blu-ray da Radiance Films em 2026.Livros citados: “Ilíada”, Homero (Ubu, 2023); “Ifigênia em Áulis”, Eurípedes (Zahar, 1993); “Fear and Trembling”, Soren Kierkegaard (Penguin, 2003).Link da pré-campanha de ABISMOS CREPUSCULARES: https://www.catarse.me/crepusculares Entre para a nossa sociedade, dedicada à bibliofilia/cinematografia maldita e ao culto de tenebrosos grimórios/projeções: o RES FICTA (solicitações via http://raphuspress.weebly.com/contact.html).Nosso podcast também está disponível nas seguintes plataformas:- Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/4NUiqPPTMdnezdKmvWDXHs- Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/podcast-da-raphus-press/id1488391151?uo=4- Google Podcasts: https://podcasts.google.com/?feed=aHR0cHM6Ly9hbmNob3IuZm0vcy8xMDlmZmVjNC9wb2RjYXN0L3Jzcw%3D%3D Apoie o canal: https://apoia.se/podcastdaraphus.VISITE NOSSA LOJA VIRTUAL: https://linknabio.gg/raphuspress Conheça também nossa nova livraria virtual: https://loja.infinitepay.io/raphuspress Nossos livros também estão no Sebo Clepsidra: https://www.seboclepsidra.com.br/marca/raphus-press.html
Mark 16:1-8 1 When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus' body. 2 Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb 3 and they asked each other, "Who will roll the stone away from the entrance to the tomb? 4 But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. 5 As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe siting on the right side, and they were alarmed. 6 "Don't be alarmed," he said, "You are looking for Jesus of Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. 7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter, 'He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.'" 8 Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid. NIV 84 LESSON NOTES The Resurrection Produces “Fearful Joy” The women experienced both fear and joy at the same time—an awe-filled response to encountering the power of God. The resurrection isn't casual news; it shakes us and fills us with wonder. The Empty Tomb Invites Investigation The stone was rolled away not to let Jesus out, but to let witnesses in. Christianity is rooted in real history and eyewitness testimony, inviting us to examine the evidence. “He Has Risen” Demands a Response These three words are the most hopeful in history—and impossible to ignore. We may accept or reject them, but we cannot remain neutral. Their Joy Was Greater Than Their Fear The women initially fled in fear, but ultimately ran to tell others because their joy was greater than their fear. Sharing the gospel flows from a heart captivated by joy. The Resurrection Is Personal (“And Peter…”) Jesus' resurrection isn't just a historical event—it's an invitation to restoration. No failure disqualifies us; the risen Christ still calls and embraces individuals by name. DISCUSSION QUESTIONS 1. In verse 8, Mark describes the women as being both "trembling and bewildered." Have you ever had a "fearful joy" moment in your walk with God where you were simultaneously awestruck by His power and overjoyed by His grace? 2. The sermon distinguished between three responses to the resurrection - between being convinced of the evidence (mind), convicted by the exclamation (heart), and converted through an encounter (relationship). Which of the three responses resonated with you the most? 3. The angel singled out Peter for restoration. Do you remember the moment when you realized that Jesus rose from the dead even to restore you and embrace you as one of His disciples? Share with the group your "and Peter" moment. 4. The women initially said nothing because they were afraid. What are the "fears" (social, personal, intellectual) that most often keep us from sharing the "joy" of the gospel with others today?
The experience of pain is different when there is hope. In this sermon, Pastor Dan Rude gives 5 facts from our passage that help us understand that the resurrection really did happen. He then reviews 3 implications Jesus' resurrection has for our lives. Understanding these realities produces in us a Joyful Trembling.
Episode 188: Sweaty Palms, Club Qualms, and Euro-Swing News! Welcome back to the Vanilla to Vixen podcast! This week, Mr. & Mrs. N are tackling the elephant in the playroom: Nerves. Whether you are a seasoned swinger who still gets the pre-date jitters, or a total newbie whose knees are knocking at the mere thought of walking into your first club, take a deep breath. We've all been there, and we're here to talk you off the ledge (and hopefully onto a very comfortable king-sized bed). In this episode, we dive into: The Jitters: How to handle the inevitable anxiety that comes with the lifestyle. Is it normal? Yes. Will you survive? Also yes. First Club Nerves: A step-by-step guide to surviving the anxiety of your first swingers club visit. The European Roundup: We take a break from our own nervous sweating to bring you the weekly news from across the European swinging scene. What's hot, what's happening, and where the pineapples are currently residing across the pond. Grab a drink, loosen up, and remember: everybody is just as nervous as you are in their underwear! (Adult Content: Strictly 18+ Only) You can visit Mr and Mrs N's website V2V.UK It includes full details of the new V2V Club in Nuneaton Warwickshire. Learn how you can meet the naughty couple! You can contact Mr and Mrs N in the following ways :- V2V Club Website :- V2V.UK Fab Swingers :- naughtycp1 V2V CLUB Email :- naughtycp1@yahoo.com Instagram :- V2V_Club Mr and Mrs N's book "Vanilla To Vixen - My Journey from a Vanilla Life to becoming a Hot Wife" is available now from Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk. Click on the following link. https://amzn.eu/d/2jKocJO Join Mr and Mrs N's Discord Chat Server :- This is a safe and discreet place where you can chat to fellow liberated members involved in the swinging lifestyle also known as the naughty hobby. Please read and respect our chat server rules before joining our Discord Chat Server. This service is completely free, there are many rooms to enjoy with fellow members of the swinging community. You MUST BE OVER 24 YEARS OLD TO JOIN THIS DISCORD SERVER. Our Discord server is for social swingers chat. It is exclusively for people involved in the swinging lifestyle. it is not a "pick up" or dating site. You must NOT private message other members without asking their permission in the general chat room. All rooms within V2V Discord are moderated. The following link is an invite into the Vanilla To Vixen Discord Chat Server. Join our discord chat by visiting V2V.UK
After speaking in broad and sometimes severe lines about the struggle of the spiritual life, the holy elder begins to lower his voice. He does not abandon the path he has shown. He reveals what makes it possible to walk it. Not strength. Not resolve. Not mastery. But hope and humility. He speaks first of hope, not as an idea, but as a living trust in the providence of God. A man begins to see that his life is not held together by his own vigilance. There are moments he does not see, dangers he cannot anticipate, falls he cannot prevent. And yet he is preserved. A stone is about to fall. A wall begins to give way. Death itself draws near without warning. And still, God restrains it. Or quietly leads the man away. Or even permits the blow, yet removes its power to destroy. The heart that begins to perceive this does not become careless. It becomes peaceful. Hope is born when a man sees that his life is already in the hands of Another. This hope does not belong to the negligent or the indifferent. It is not given to one who abandons effort, but to one who labors and yet ceases to trust in his labor. He still acts, still watches, still struggles, but inwardly he has shifted his ground. He no longer leans upon his own understanding. He leans upon God. And from this, a strange boldness arises. Not presumption. Not testing God. But a quiet fearlessness. The soul begins to move through the world without the same anxious calculation, because it knows that even what it cannot foresee is already known. God becomes his constant concern. And so God becomes his constant care. ⸻ Then the elder turns, even more gently, to humility. He does not begin with virtue. He begins with weakness. “Blessed is the man who knows his own weakness.” Not the man who despises himself. Not the man who speaks harshly of himself. But the one who sees. This knowledge does not come through reflection alone. It is given. A man is allowed to be tempted. He struggles. He plans. He guards himself. He tries to secure peace through effort, discipline, vigilance. And yet he finds no rest. Fear remains. Trembling remains. The heart refuses to be stilled. Then, quietly, something is revealed. Not his failure, but his need. The soul begins to understand that no arrangement of its own can give it the certainty it seeks. All its hedging about, all its carefulness, all its ascetic labor—these are not enough to establish peace. And this is not a condemnation. It is a gift. Because at that moment, the heart turns. It begins to seek another help. A help that is not its own. A help that saves. Humility is born here, not as an achievement, but as a recognition. The man sees the distance between his weakness and God's strength, and in that seeing, he no longer trusts himself in the same way. He becomes watchful, not out of anxiety, but out of truth. He gathers himself inwardly, not out of fear, but out of clarity. He knows now that without God, he cannot stand. And with God, he does not need to be afraid. ⸻ Thus hope and humility meet. Hope says: God holds my life, even when I do not see how. Humility says: I cannot hold my life on my own. And together they open the path. Not a path of certainty as the world understands it. Not a path of control or self-assurance. But a path of quiet reliance. A man begins to walk it when he entrusts himself—again and again, in small and hidden ways—to the One who has already been carrying him all along. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:14:25 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 183, #6, last paragraph 00:15:15 Janine: That's a great book! Watchful mind 00:15:31 Bob Čihák, AZ: I'll take one! 00:15:54 Alan Henderson: I came in late, which books is he offering to give? 00:16:28 Art iPhone: The Watchful Mind was one . 00:16:29 Wayne: Already have a copy. 00:18:37 Andrew Adams: I'd be interested in both 00:18:44 Jessica McHale: Would love copies! 00:18:48 Maureen Cunningham: Wonderful a yes from Ken and I 00:19:03 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 183, #6, last paragraph 00:19:44 Ursula McKenzie: I'd like both! Ursula 00:32:18 Ryan Ngeve: Father how far can one go with his ‘daring' before it is considered ‘testing the Lord' 00:35:17 Gwen's iPhone: I always been the told the ultimate way to tempt God is to commit suicide. 00:37:42 John ‘Jack': I sometimes wonder if the reason I don't feel anxious very often is that I've created a life for myself wherein I don't venture into “uncomfortable” or unknown situations. I've expressed this concern to others before and they assure me I don't “play it safe” in this regard. I just hope they're being truthful and not just kind. I dealt with anxiety often in my younger days. 00:37:59 Anna: It's also caused by medications or medical issues that are not related to psychology or satanic. 00:42:34 Maureen Cunningham: What you said a few Wen. Ago about abuse that a person 00:42:56 Maureen Cunningham: Suffers one thing after another. 00:45:03 Erick Chastain: God seems to use difficult circumstances and anxiety-provoking situations to systematically destroy our self-reliance. Especially when we try to solve the situations as st isaac says, when we try to do so naturally in part. 00:45:25 Jessica McHale: Reacted to "God seems to use d..." with
There's more than one version of the Cinderella story, and this one comes from Celtic folklore. In it, a young girl named Trembling is picked on mercilessly by her sisters. Fortunately, help comes in the form of a henwife (a what?) who helps this Cinderella alter her fate with ending after ending! Enjoy free, thanks to enVypillow.com and SierraSil.com. Drift is free, thanks to our wonderful sponsors, enVy Pillow.com and SierraSil.com, both of whom generously offer discounts on all online purchases when you use the code drift. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
2 Samuel 6:1-15 andHeidelberg Catechism, Lord's Day 35
The full scale invasion of Ukraine began four years ago today. Ukraine Unbroken is an evening of five new plays written in response to the war. David Edgar talks about his, Five Day War, which imagines the puppet government waiting to move in when Kviv falls, and the other dramas. Between the plays Ukrainian musician Mariia Petrovska sings and plays the bandura. She talks about her involvement and the bandura, the national instrument that was once banned. And Mariia plays and sings live in the studio.As Oscar-winning British cinematographer Sir Roger Deakins looks back at his career through his visual memoir Reflections: On Cinematography, he talks to Samira about his practical and inventive approach to working on many iconic films such as 1984, O Brother Where Art Thou, 1917, tackling sci fi on Bladerunner 2049 and Bond with Skyfall. The government has announced the introduction of new legisation to introduce monitoring by Ofcom of streaming services. Front Row explores the implcations of this.And we consider the novels selected for the International Booker Prize longlist, announced today with writer and head judge Natasha Brown. The books in contention are: The Nights Are Quiet in Tehran by Shida Bazyar, translated from German by Ruth Martin We Are Green and Trembling by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara, translated from Spanish by Robin Myers The Remembered Soldier by Anjet Daanje, translated from Dutch by David McKay The Deserters by Mathias Énard, translated from French by Charlotte Mandell Small Comfort by Ia Genberg, translated from Swedish by Kira Josefsson She Who Remains by Rene Karabash, translated from Bulgarian by Izidora Angel The Director by Daniel Kehlmann, translated from German by Ross Benjamin On Earth As It Is Beneath by Ana Paula Maia, translated from Portuguese by Padma Viswanathan The Duke by Matteo Melchiorre, translated from Italian by Antonella Lettieri The Witch by Marie NDiaye, translated from French by Jordan Stump Women Without Men by Shahrnush Parsipur, translated from Persian by Faridoun Farrokh The Wax Child by Olga Ravn, translated from Danish by Martin Aitken Taiwan Travelogue by Yáng Shuāng-zǐ, translated from Mandarin Chinese by Lin KingPresenter: Samira Ahmed Producer: Julian May
I'm teaching how we need to work out our salvation with fear & trembling or suffer the consequences. Former Prince Andrew was stripped of all royal rights and privileges due to his continued and unrepentant sin. This highlights to us the way God's Kingdom works. This will be added to the Basics Of a Biblical Church playlist that you can watch here:https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLT-LN5Ayv4FrV6glI-D9PpyUBhTALRbQ3SUBSCRIBETO THE CHANNEL: https://www.youtube.com/@TheCombatChristianTRIVITA:Use my TRIVITA link to get started on your wellness journey: https://bit.ly/HealthyChristianCovenantEyes: If youwant to protect yourself and your loved ones from the dangers of p*rn, getCovenant Eyes: https://bit.ly/Restore-CovenantUSE CODE RESTORE30 at checkout to get your first 30 days FREE when you use the link ✅Other ways foryou to support the ministry:
I have taken out of your hand The cup of trembling. [NKJV]
In this message, Pete Gardner continues the Mindset series with “Faith is the Top Button,” preaching from Philippians 2:12-18. Pete explores what it means to outwork salvation, unpacking the difference between salvation and sanctification, and how grace and glory shape a life becoming more like Christ. Drawing on the transformation of Paul the Apostle and the example of Jesus, he calls the church beyond grumbling and cultural comfort into Spirit-empowered sacrifice, service, and obedience that brings joy to both our personal faith and the community around us.
New year, new season! In this episode we introduce the theme for our upcoming season, The Natural World - then we get into the eight books we'll be discussing over the next few months.Vote for your choice of novel hereBooks Mentioned:Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster by Jon KrakauerWhat We Can Know by Ian McEwanAnnihilation by Jeff VandermeerGreenwood by Michael ChristieBarkskins by Annie ProulxWe Are Green and Trembling by Gabriela Cabezón CámaraOnce There Were Wolves by Charlotte McConaghyThe Seed Keeper by Diane WilsonProdigal Summer by Barbara KingsolverMoby Dick by Herman MelvilleIf you would like to get additional recommendations, analyses, and behind-the-scenes content related to this and all of our episodes, subscribe to our free email newsletter on Substack.We love to hear from listeners about the books we discuss - you can connect with us on Instagram or by emailing us at thenovelteapod@gmail.com.This episode description contains links to Bookshop.org, a website that supports independent bookstores. If you use these links we may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
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When my uncle was a small child, he once woke in the middle of the night, gripped by fear of the dark. Trembling, he ran to his mother, my grandmother, and said, “Mommy, I'm afraid.” She embraced him, soothed him, and then gently told him, “Go back to bed and remember: be afraid of nothing but G-d.”Calmed, he returned to sleep. But half an hour later, he was back shaking. “What are you afraid of now?” she asked. He answered simply, “I'm afraid of G-d.”That story captures something deeply human.We all encounter nights in our lives—moments of darkness, loneliness, uncertainty—that make us tremble. Darkness has a powerful hold because it conceals, it obscures, it feels mysterious and threatening.The mystics ask: Is darkness merely the absence of light or does it have its own substance? Either way, it confronts us and demands a response.Please join Rabbi Simon Jacobson in this fundamental conversation about facing those darker corners of our lives and discovering a profound truth: even in the dark, you are never alone. And that ultimately, darkness is the greatest light of them all.
On Christmas Day, we bring our year-end tradition to a close by counting down our top five books of 2025. From beloved classics to unexpected discoveries, these final picks reflect a reading year shaped by curiosity, challenge, and joy. Settle in with us for a reflective conversation about the books that defined 2025 . . . and the anticipation of new reading adventures waiting in 2026!2026 Novella Book ClubWe have announced the four novellas we will be reading for The Mookse and Gripes Novella Book Club in 2026!* January: Daisy Miller, by Henry James* April: An Episode in the Life of a Landscape Painter, by César Aira* July: The Hour of the Star, by Clarice Lispector* September: Prelude, by Katherine MansfieldDiscussions will be hosted at The Mookse and the Gripes Discord (see below!).We've got some fantastic author-focused episodes lined up for the foreseeable future, and we want to give you plenty of time to dive in if you'd like to read along with us. These episodes come around every ten episodes, and with our bi-weekly release schedule, you'll have a few months to get ready for each. Here's what we have in store:* Episode 125: Flannery O'Connor* Episode 135: William Faulkner* Episode 145: Elizabeth Taylor* Episode 155: Naguib MahfouzThere's no rush—take your time, and grab a book (or two, or three) so you're prepared for these as they come!Shownotes* The Secret of Secrets, by Dan Brown* The Melancholy of Resistance, by László Krasznahorkai, translated by George Szirtes* Swann's Way, by Marcel Proust, translated by C K Scott Moncrieff, Terence Kilmartin, and D.J. Enright* Dr Chizhevsky's Chandelier: The Decline of the USSR and other Heresies of the Twentieth Century, by Dan Elkind* The Narrow Road to the Deep North, by Richard Flanagan* Palinuro of Mexico, by Fernando del Paso, translated by Elisabeth Plaister* The Tunnel, by William Gass* A Fine Balance, by Rohinton Mistry* The Undead Fox of Deadwood Forest, by Aubrey Hartman* Free Day, by Inès Cagnati, translated by Liesl Schillinger* Crazy Genie, by Inès Cagnati, translated by Liesl Schillinger* The Motion of the Body Through Space, by Lionel Shriver* Ultramarine, by Mariette Navarro, translated by Eve Hill-Agnus* North Sun, by Ethan Rutherford* We Are Green and Trembling, by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara, translated by Robin Myers * The Adventures of China Iron, by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara, translated by Fiona Mackintosh and Iona Macintyre* Slum Virgin, by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara, translated by Frances Riddle* Skylark, by Dezső Kosztolányi, translated by Richard Aczel* Memoirs from Beyond the Grave, by François-Réne de Chateaubriand, translated by Alex Andriesse* Effingers, by Gabriele Tergit, translated by Sophie Duvernoy* Bomarzo, by Manuel Mujica Lainez, translated from the Spanish by Gregory Rabassa* Lies and Sorcery, by Elsa Morante, translated by Jenny McPhee* Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf* The Sweet Dove Died, by Barbara Pym* The Bear, by Andrew Krivak* Bear, by Marian Engel* Small Reckonings, by Karin Melberg Schwier* The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, by Beth Brower* The City and Its Uncertain Walls, by Haruki Murakami, translated by Philip Gabriel* The End of the World and Hard-Boiled Wonderland, by Haruki Murakami, translated by Jay Rubin* A Strange and Sublime Address, by Amit Chaudhuri* A New World, by Amit Chaudhuri* The Immortals, by Amit Chaudhuri* Incompleteness, by Amit Chaudhuri* Sojourn, by Amit Chaudhuri* Friend of My Youth, by Amit Chaudhuri* Afternoon Raag, by Amit Chaudhuri* The Pursuit of Love, by Nancy Mitford* Anima: A Wild Pastoral, by Kapka Kassabova* Border: A Journey to the Edge of Europe, by Kapka Kassabova* Käsebier Takes Berlin, by Gabriele Tergit, translated by Sophie Duvernoy* The Story of a Life, by Konstantin Paustovsky, translated by Douglas Smith* Life and Fate, by Vasily Grossman, translated by Robert Chandler* Stalingrad, by Vasily Grossman, translated by Robert Chandler and Elizabeth Chandler* The Anatomy of Melancholy, by Robert Burton* Sea, Poison, by Caren Beilin* The Decameron, by Giovanni Boccaccio* The Stronghold, by Dino Buzzati, translated by Lawrence Venuti* A Love Affair, by Dino Buzzati, translated by Joseph Green* The Singularity, by Dino Buzzati, translated by Anne Milano Appel* The Bewitched Bourgeoisie: Fifty Stories, by Dino Buzzati, translated by Lawrence Venuti* Waiting for the Barbarians, by J.M. Coetzee* The Portrait of a Lady, by Henry James* Daisy Miller, by Henry James* The Ambassadors, by Henry James* The Turn of the Screw, by Henry James* Washington Square, by Henry James* The Coxon Fund, by Henry JamesOther* Shawn's Review of Small ReckoningsJoin the Mookse and the Gripes on DiscordWant to share your thoughts on these upcoming authors or anything else we're discussing? Join us over on Discord! It's the perfect place to dive deeper into the conversation—whether you're reading along with our author-focused episodes or just want to chat about the books that are on your mind.We're also just now in our third novella book club, where we're reading The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, by Muriel Spark. It's a fantastic book, and we'd love to have you join the discussion. It's a great space to engage with fellow listeners, share your insights, and discover new perspectives on the books you're reading.The Mookse and the Gripes Podcast is a bookish conversation hosted by Paul and Trevor. Every other week, we explore a bookish topic and celebrate our love of reading. We're glad you're here, and we hope you'll continue to join us on this literary journey!A huge thank you to those who help make this podcast possible! If you'd like to support us, you can do so via Substack or Patreon. Subscribers receive access to periodic bonus episodes and early access to all new episodes. Plus, each supporter gets their own dedicated feed, allowing them to download episodes a few days before they're released to the public. We'd love for you to check it out! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit mookse.substack.com/subscribe
Send us a textThe devotion for today, Thursday, December 25, 2025 was written by Dr. Pat Saxon and is narrated by Judithann Anderson. Today's Words of Inspiration come from Be born in me. Sung by Francesca Batistelli:Be born in me, be born in me.Trembling heart, somehow I believe that you chose me.I'll hold you in the beginning. You will hold me in the end.Every moment in the middle make my heart your Bethlehem.Be born in me. Sung by Francesca Batistelli Support the show
Not all fear is the same. Some fear protects you from real danger—and if you've experienced religious trauma or spiritual abuse, those fears are legitimate. But other fear is trickier: it's the voice telling you you're not capable, not worthy, that you can't trust yourself. This sermon explores how to tell the difference between protective fear and the fear of inadequacy that keeps you small. Drawing on the stories of Mary and Jeremiah—both of whom faced genuine, life-threatening risks—Antonio offers a framework that doesn't gaslight you about danger but also doesn't let fear of your own potential win. The goal isn't moving forward fearlessly, but faithfully. Baby steps count. And yes, you can say yes while still trembling.
Welcome to Day 2750 of Wisdom-Trek. Thank you for joining me. This is Guthrie Chamberlain, Your Guide to Wisdom Day 2750 – Wisdom Nuggets – Psalm 99:1-9 – Daily Wisdom Wisdom-Trek Podcast Script - Day 2750 Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day two thousand seven hundred fifty of our Trek. The Purpose of Wisdom-Trek is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before. The Title of Today's Wisdom-Trek is: The Holy King Enthroned – Trembling Before the Trisagion Today, we reach the summit of the Royal Psalms as we explore Psalm Ninety-nine, covering the entire hymn, verses one through nine, in the New Living Translation. In our previous trek through Psalm Ninety-eight, we joined the global victory parade. We saw the sea shouting, the rivers clapping, and the hills singing for joy because the Divine Warrior had won the battle for the cosmos. It was a psalm of unbridled exuberance and noise. Psalm Ninety-nine shifts the atmosphere from joyful noise to trembling awe. While the previous psalms focused on God's power and His reign, this psalm focuses intensely on His Holiness. In fact, this psalm is structured around a threefold declaration—a Trisagion—that announces, "He is holy!" at the end of each stanza. It reminds us that the King we celebrate is not just powerful; He is Other. He is transcendent. He is separated from all corruption and chaos. And because He is holy, our approach to Him must be marked by reverence. We move from the cheering crowd to the kneeling priesthood. So, let us take off our shoes, for we are standing on holy ground. The Trembling of the Nations: The Transcendent King Psalm Ninety-nine: verses one through three The Lord is king! Let the nations tremble! He sits on his throne between the cherubim. Let the whole earth shake. The Lord sits in majesty in Jerusalem, supreme above all the nations. Let them praise your great and awesome name. Your name is holy! The psalm begins with the familiar coronation cry: "The Lord is king!" But notice the reaction commanded this time. In Psalm Ninety-seven, the earth was told to "rejoice." In Psalm Ninety-eight, it was told to "shout." Here, the command is: "Let the nations tremble!" (rāgaz—to quake, shake, or be agitated). And "Let the whole earth shake." Why the fear? Because "He sits on his throne between the cherubim." This is a powerful image that bridges heaven and earth. In the earthly Temple, the Ark of the Covenant was the footstool of God's throne, flanked by golden cherubim. But in the Ancient Israelite worldview, this was merely a copy of the true reality in the Divine Council. Yahweh sits enthroned above the living Cherubim—the terrifying, powerful spiritual guardians of His holiness. He is the Master of the spiritual realm. For the "nations"—who...
Our celebration of "Noirvember" continues with the cast of The Maltese Falcon - the classic adaptation of Dashiell Hammett's celebrated novel. Peter Lorre plays a husband with a plot to dispose of his wife and her lover in "Till Death Do Us Part" (originally aired on CBS on December 15, 1942). Mary Astor is on the other side of the equation, as she plans to kill her husband and his girlfriend before they bump her off in "In Fear and Trembling" (originally aired on February 16, 1943). Humphrey Bogart stars in an adaptation of James M. Cain's gangland drama "Love's Lovely Counterfeit" (originally aired on CBS on March 8, 1945). And Sydney Greenstreet portrays John Dickson Carr's master sleuth Dr. Gideon Fell in the surviving half of "The Hangman Won't Wait" (originally aired on CBS on February 9, 1943)...and since only fifteen minutes of Mr. Greenstreet just won't do, we'll also hear him as Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe in "The Case of the Careworn Cuff" (originally aired on NBC on October 27, 1950). Then, all four stars recreate their film roles for The Screen Guild Theatre (originally aired on CBS on September 20, 1943).
Weakness, Fear, and Much Trembling
The Authority of Scripture: A Call to True Discipleship In this powerful session, Francis Chan discusses the irreplaceable role of the Bible in true discipleship. Highlighting the importance of scripture as the guide and manual for living a God-honoring life, Chan calls for a return to trembling at God's Word. He emphasizes the necessity of obedience, moving beyond mere knowledge to living out the teachings of the Bible. Drawing insights from Isaiah 66:2 and the Great Commission, Chan and other leaders explore the challenges of contemporary discipleship, the vital connection between understanding and action, and the importance of community in obeying God's Word. This session is a call to deepen your reverence for scripture and allows it to transform both personal and communal life. Check out Discipleship.org for free resources on disciple making: https://discipleship.org/resources/ Key Takeaways 00:00 Welcome to Francis Chan's Session on Scripture and Discipleship 00:40 The Importance of Scripture in Discipleship 01:14 Embracing Scripture's Authority 01:52 Personal Transformation Through Scripture 03:08 The Power of Biblical Resources in Modern Times 03:31 Trembling at God's Word: A Call for Reverence 06:33 Obedience Over Knowledge: The True Measure of Discipleship 16:51 Embracing Suffering and Obedience in Following Christ 22:26 Practical Steps Towards Biblical Obedience and Discipleship 39:50 The Ultimate Goal: Becoming Like Christ Through Scripture For more information about Discipleship.org. visit our website or reach out too us at info@discipleship.org Stay informed - Get our newsletter: http://eepurl.com/hPViAr
In this special episode, filmmaker, cultural theorist, and curator Manthia Diawara joins EMPIRE LINES live, to discuss Édouard Glissant's relations with natural environmental disasters, connecting the islands of the Caribbean and Scotland, through the exhibition, The Trembling Museum (2023-2024).This episode was recorded live as part of PEACE FREQUENCIES, a 24 hour live radio broadcast to mark International Human Rights Day in December 2023, and 75 years of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Listen back to the recordings with Billy Gerard Frank and Sara Shamma, and find all the information in the first Instagram post: instagram.com/p/C0mAnSuodAZThe Trembling Museum, co-curated with Manthia Diawara and Terri Geis, was at the Hunterian Museum and Art Gallery in Glasgow from 2 December 2023 to 19 May 2024.Manthia Diawara's film, A Letter from Yene (2022), is part of The Earth, the Fire, the Water and the Winds: For a Museum of Errantry with Édouard Glissant at the Instituto Tomie Ohtake in São Paulo until 25 January 2026. You can join the conference on 25 and 26 November 2025.PRODUCER: Jelena Sofronijevic.Follow EMPIRE LINES on Instagram: instagram.com/empirelinespodcastSupport EMPIRE LINES on Patreon: patreon.com/empirelines
Daily Radio Program with Charles Stanley - In Touch Ministries
Remember Dr. Stanley’s legacy on his birthday today and get a preview of our upcoming From the Pastor’s Heart podcast, launching in 2026.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Daily Radio Program with Charles Stanley - In Touch Ministries
Revere the Bible and treasure it because it's the living Word of God.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Daily Radio Program with Charles Stanley - In Touch Ministries
Revere the Bible and treasure it because it's the living Word of God.
Violeta Parra needs no introduction in Latin America: not only did she record the greatest album in Chilean history, she also collected two thousand folk songs, danced in the Poor Circus, sang in the streets, and --incredibly-- exhibited at the Louvre. Over the years she also broke ...*checks notes*... 48 guitars over people's heads. Discover the larger than life story of Violeta Parra with our guest Ericka Verba, author of Thanks to Life, A Biography of Violeta Parra. _______________________ Travel with us! What'sHerName TOURS are open for registration. Or check out the What'sHerName SHOP! Every bit helps us make more episodes. Music featured in this episode: Violeta Parra recorded by Alan Lomax in 1953 in the Lomax Digital Archive; Puerto Montt is Trembling, and Gracias a la Vida by Violeta Parra; Las Hermanas Parra recored for RCA Victor in 1952; Corazon Maldito and El Guilatun by Desborde; Pink Flamenco by Doug Maxwell; Sus Remedios by Casa Rosa; Cha Cha Chango by Quincas Moreira; Despair and Triumph by Kevin MacLeod; Spirit of Fire by Jesse Gallagher. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Full TorahAnytime Lecture Video or Audio More classes from R' Avrohom Walkin ⭐ 2,445
In this episode of the Ideology Podcast, Mick is joined by special guest Dr. Ben Young, senior pastor at Second Baptist Church in Houston, Texas. With Drew away this week, the two dive into a vulnerable and thought-provoking conversation about doubt, belief, and what it means to trust God in the face of suffering and uncertainty.Dr. Young shares his personal story of walking through nearly a decade of doubt, sparked by unmet expectations around prayer and miracles in his college years. What began as disappointment eventually led to a full deconstruction of his faith—followed by a slow and honest rebuilding rooted in grace and the person of Jesus Christ.Together, Mick and Dr. Young explore:The difference between doubt and unbelief, and how doubt can actually strengthen faithWhy many churches have historically struggled to make space for questionsThe cultural obsession with certainty, particularly in evangelical and fundamentalist traditionsHow suffering and disappointment shape our view of God's goodness and activity in the worldThe importance of community, vulnerability, and empathy in seasons of deconstructionThey also reflect on shifts in the cultural questions people are asking—from "Is it true?" to "Who am I?"—and how the Church can respond with both conviction and compassion. Drawing from voices like Blaise Pascal, Søren Kierkegaard, and the Psalms, Dr. Young presents a vision of faith that embraces both mystery and reason, intellect and intuition.This episode offers encouragement and guidance for those struggling with doubt or walking alongside someone who is.Connect with us:Email: ideologypc@gmail.comYouTube/Instagram: @ideologypcResources referenced:Room for Doubt by Ben YoungPensées by Blaise PascalFear and Trembling by Søren KierkegaardThe Psalms and Ecclesiastes as biblical models of wrestling with doubtRobert Kegan & Lisa Lahey's research on adult development and cognitive complexityBackground track (licensed by Musicbed):"Evaporate" by Svvn
In Touch TV Broadcast featuring Dr. Charles Stanley - In Touch Ministries
God wants our desire, reverence, and humble spirit as we yield ourselves to His awesome Word.
The Bible presents a uniform pattern of how people respond to the holy presence of God: fear and trembling. Today, R.C. Sproul characterizes this solemn reaction to the transcendent majesty of our Creator. Read the transcript: https://ligonier.org/podcasts/ultimately-with-rc-sproul/trembling-before-the-holy-one/ Study Reformed theology with a free resource bundle from Ligonier Ministries: https://grow.ligonier.org/ A donor-supported outreach of Ligonier Ministries. Donate: https://donate.ligonier.org/ Explore all of our podcasts: https://www.ligonier.org/podcasts
The mighty voice of the Lord is powerful and thunderous … and so is His voice through His Word. Too many in our modern day treat the Bible casually or passively, but as Christians, we must humble ourselves, bend our knee, and tremble beneath His Word. In this study, we discuss the mighty-authoritative voice of God's Word, why we can believe and stand firm upon it, and what it means to tremble before His Word (with some help from Charles Spurgeon). Let us be the people to whom God intently gazes—people who are humble, contrite in spirit, and who tremble at His Word.If you would like to learn more about the inspiration, inerrancy, and immutability of Scripture, you can download a PDF version of Nathan's “Supremacy of Scripture” (appendix two of Saturation Bible Study) here. Link for download: https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/f1tauo603jz8xflku9uqx/SBS-Appendix-2-The-Supremacy-of-Scripture.pdf?rlkey=4z5flugvpg6dniqys44grcdqx&st=eszwnksh&dl=0
The H3 Show is BACK baby! Vacation is over and Ethan & the crew are back to talk about everything that happened over break, and even a couple of things that happened JUST before the show went live- namely that Creator Clash 3 is now officially cancelled! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
#LONDONCALLING: TREMBLING LABOUR AND SHIVERING SENIORS. @JOSEPHSTERNBERG @WSJOPINION 1931
There are thousands of churches in America, and sadly most of them are just "trembling" churches: Afraid to preach the authentic gospels and the truths it proclaims. In his speech to the Faith Forward pastors summit, Charlie lays out what pastors must do to be true pastors leading true churches. He lays out how promoting controversial and challenging truths is exactly what will draw in young people and new believers, while saccharine lies will only keep people away while they follow the secular road to damnation.Support the show: http://www.charliekirk.com/supportSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.