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Carol Chisolm is a singer, songwriter, speaker, and author. She was named Songwriter of the Month (July 2020) by Nashville Christian Songwriters, International. She was one of the top five finalists in the 2021 You God's Music Talent Showcase, named the 2022 Traditional Artist of the Year for the Tampa Bay Gospel Music Awards, named among the Top 25 Artist of 2023 by the I Support Florida Gospel Music Movement, named Female Artist of the Year for the 2024 Florida Gospel Music Awards, and recently name Female Artist of the Year for the Praise and Worship Experience Awards 2025. Carol's latest release, “Conquerors”, is inspired by my struggle with alopecia, an autoimmune disorder that results in baldness. She suffered many years from fear, shame, and self-hatred until finally accepting that she is fearfully and wonderfully made by a faithful God who loves her with or without hair. Carol is a contributing author in the award-winning anthology, “She Writes for Him: Black Voices of Wisdom” and “My Bald Is Beautiful: I Am Not My Hair”. Her Selah award nominated book, “Breaking the Shadows: How to Embrace Your True Self and Live in the Light of God's Glory”, was published in 2023 and is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Redemption Press Publishing. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/carol.chisolm.5Instagram: @carolchisolmministriesWebsite: www.carolchisolm.com
2 Paths Which Portray to You God's ProvidenceGenesis 11:1-91 - A Contrary Ploy (1-4)2 - A Concrete Plan (5-9)
The Most Misunderstood Promise in The Bible, Part 2 Today, Pastor Michael is continuing our theme of studying one of the most famous quotes in the Bible, a quote used anytime one needs encouragement, that promise found in Jeremiah 29: 11. Things God Wants for You (God's Plans for You!): Salvation, John 3: 16, John 4: 14. Fellowship, John 15: 5. Obedience, John 14: 15. Holiness, Romans 12: 1-2. Discipleship, Matthew 28: 19-20. Good works, Ephesians 2: 10. Progress, 2 Peter 3: 18. Our theme for today is, “Walk with God and the rest will follow.” (CSB Bible Notes) Many a faithful believer has found comfort in these words of hope. Today's verse can be found in Jeremiah 29: 11. Scripture quotations marked CSB have been taken from the Christian Standard Bible®, Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible® and CSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers.
In 1943, a camp in rural Maryland called Shangri-La was purchased as a retreat for US President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Rustic, quiet, and remote, it provided “an opportunity for solitude and tranquility,” according to the White House website, “as well as an ideal place to work and host foreign leaders.” When Dwight Eisenhower became president, he renamed this retreat Camp David in honor of his grandson, and the name stuck. Aside from increased security measures, there has been very little modernizing of the camp. It remains the perfect place for the president and his family to escape and rest. Believers in Jesus also have a retreat where we can find rest in the midst of our turbulent world. King David wrote in Psalm 32:7, “You [God] are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.” David recognized that God was his true place of safety. Jesus welcomes us to find rest and restoration in Him. He said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29). He can be our place of rest any time, every time, and all the time.
Your Daily Prayer
Send us a textLast week, in part 1 of this two part series on the UncommonTEEN Podcast, we began talking about how to throw away anxiety, stress, overwhelm, and insecurities for good! God wants you walking in confidence, really embracing who it is that He created you to be! But how do we do that?1. It starts with truly understanding who it is that God says you are.John 3:16 says that you are so loved by God. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says that God makes everything beautiful in its time. You are beautiful! Just the way you are! Jeremiah 1:5 says that before the world was even formed, God knew everything about you and approved of you as His chosen daughter. He set you apart for a purpose.Isaiah 43:4 says that you are precious to God, honored by God, and loved by God!Jeremiah 29:11 says that God has plans for your life that are good. Plans to give you a future and a hope.Luke 12:24 says that you are valuable to God. But In order to truly understand who God says you are, you have to intentionally make the choice to believe it! 2. Rewrite the stories you've been telling yourself. When you feel anxious, stressed, overwhelmed or not confident in who you are…when those feelings start to pull you down, I want you to stop and think about what you're thinking about. Ask yourself, do these thoughts or do these words that I'm telling myself or maybe someone else said about me…do they line up with what God says about me? Do those thoughts line up with what God says in His Word? The first way you can tell if they do or if they don't is, how are those thoughts making you feel? If they are making you feel anxious, stressed, overwhelmed, or insecure, the answer probably is no…they do not line up with what God says about you. 3. Change your words; change your life. Our circumstances that we are facing cause our thoughts. When we dwell on those thoughts, those thoughts cause the words we begin to speak. When we begin to speak those things over our lives, our words then cause the results that we see. Pick one verse and say it over and over again until those feelings of anxiety leave. “Thank You, Lord that in John 14:27, Jesus says He has given me His peace. I thank you that I have peace.” Then repeat over again over again until you feel that peace, Thank You, Lord for your peace. I have the peace of Jesus. I praise You God for giving me Your peace.” Sometimes you can speak those verses for a couple minutes and anxiety will leave, sometimes you may need to be speaking those verses over yourself for an hour or two, but continue to do it until that anxiety leaves. The Word of God is powerful and can and will destroy the weapons the enemy has used against you! Ladies, check your emails this week for updates on the New UncommonTEEN App!!To ask your Ask Me Anything Questions or if you need prayer, head on over to UncommonTEEN.com.For the Ask Me Anything Questions, click on the RED BUTTON at the top of the screen. These questions may used on a future episode of the UncommonTEEN Podcast!For any prayer requests or more personal questions, click on the YELLOW CHAT TAB at the bottom right hand corner of the screen. These will not be used on the podcast unless you say you would like it to be used. Connect with Us!Website: UncommonTEEN.comInstagram: @uncommon.teenUncommonTEEN Live Conference: UncommonTEENlive.com
Emergency Council Makes Bold Move.. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.” I biked home, brushing a city bus and a BMW getting there. On the landing between the second and third floors I found an Amazon with baleful eyes; waiting. In front of my door was her psychic twin. ‘Can I get you and/or your cohort anything?' I politely inquired. Yesterday; the cold shoulder. ‘Thank you for the consideration. We will wait until our itinerary is clarified,' she nodded. I went in, catching the abrupt cut off of some 'O' talk. 'O', as in Odette and Oneida. They were on the sofa, half-turned to face each other when I walked in. Oneida stood and gave the standard Amazon respectful nod. ‘Oneida was all screwed up inside about last night in the Park, so I was explaining some of the basic tenants of BDSM to her,' Odette blithely blathered. ‘BDSM? What do you know about BDSM? I barely know about it and I've been having non-stop sex for years,' I exclaimed. ‘Cáel of Ishara, did you do those things to Rhada in an effort to fulfill her dreams?' Oneida desperately pleaded. Worse, it was spoken in English. ‘I can't talk about it,' I replied. ‘That is 'Cáel' for 'yes',' Odette intruded. ‘I began reading up on BDSM after you got the suspension rig,' was her saucy response to me. ‘Would you ever do that to me?' Oneida gave me those big doe-eyes as she sat down. No, she didn't want a rape fantasy. That kind of submission wasn't her thing. I paced around, stomped into the kitchen then back to the living room. ‘No Oneida, I would never do something like that to you,' I promised. ‘I like having sex; a whole bunch. I like the women I'm with to have a great time too.' ‘That means I figure out what really excites her and provide it because I normally want to have sex with that girl again,' I explained, neglecting the 'and again and again and again.' ‘Is it over between you two?' Oneida asked. She meant Rhada and me. ‘Oneida, did I ask you to come over today?' I countered. ‘Have I upset you?' Oneida's lower lip trembled. 'Yes' would make things so much easier. ‘No,' I lied. ‘Let's look at this from another angle. How would you feel if Paula showed up at your domicile unannounced? You walked in and there she was.' ‘Oh,' she stood up again. ‘I apologize.' At this moment, saying nothing meant she'd leave. I'm an idiot. ‘Do you want to stay for dinner?' I offered. It took a few seconds for Oneida to forgive herself enough to accept my suggestion. Me raping Rhada less than 24 hours ago? We'd deal with that later, or so she promised herself. ‘Okay; if it is not too much trouble,' Oneida nodded. In came the doom and gloom duo and we ordered some over-sized sandwiches from an Italian Deli two blocks away. After the two walked through my place (again, I was sure) and the food arrived, the bodyguards relaxed into a close proximity of human beings. The freakishness continued as Odette bonded with the Amazon killers with tales of my sexual exploits. At the same time, I romanced Oneida in half a dozen languages. Storming those gates was going to take more time than I normally gave a single sexual encounter. Oneida kissed me. She loved kissing me. She was ecstatic about kissing me. She made it real clear there would be not petting; yet. Penetration wasn't even on the (her) agenda. This didn't meant I was accepting her marching orders. I was far craftier than that. My plan was one of 'setting an example'. I stood up; we were sitting on the bench press seat, shot Odette a sexy look then went to the kitchenette. We got something; whatever it was wasn't important. The crucial activity was my surrounding Odette in my arms from behind. I kissed her neck, Odette wiggled her ass against my crotch and murmured happily. More kissing along the neck, ear and jawline ensued. Odette exhaled a happy breath, and twisted around in my grasp until we were face to face. An exhaustive French kiss finishing up with a few light pecks and led to us rubbing noses like Inuit. ‘Thanks buddy,' I smiled warmly at Odette. ‘She blue-balling ya?' Odette snickered. ‘Big time,' I muttered. Odette squiggled down my body then bit both my nipples through my shirt making me gasp. ‘That should do nicely,' Odette's eyes were alight and she was super-pleased with herself. She smacked my ass then returned to the living room. I returned to Oneida. After a few seconds, ‘Does it disturb you to be treated like that?' Oneida murmured. ‘Like what?' I sounded so innocent. Trust me; this is a crucial relationship tool. ‘Like; like we would treat one of our males,' she looked for my reaction. I laughed. ‘The critical difference is that I can say 'no',' I smiled. ‘Oneida, do you think the original Ash Men spent every moment not in battle, contemplating their place in the Universe?' Clearly, she had. ‘Believe me, men hunted, worked their crafts and chased female Amazons when they weren't eating, or sleeping.' ‘Warfare is an emotional undertaking,' I had read that somewhere. ‘You can believe that with the battle safely won, your ancestors and my ancestors fooled around. They sang songs, wrote poetry, and created artwork for the ladies they courted. They wanted the attention of the strongest, bravest and most courageous mates, just like your ancestors did.' ‘I think I do know something about the Ash Men you don't,' I prodded her. ‘What? I have studied them for many years,' Oneida was now more engaged. ‘What can you tell me about Vranus?' I asked. That stumped her. ‘I; nothing is written of his exploits,' Oneida admitted. ‘We know he was a young warrior for Ishara.' ‘Think about this, Oneida; Vranus was only twenty yet a member of the Host,' I started. She nodded. ‘He is shown with twin axes; no shield and no bow. That means he had to be very brave, rushing through the initial exchange of arrow fire and thrown spears to attack his enemy. His House probably directed him to large clumps of opponents, breaking their formations for the Host to exploit.' ‘That means he fought alone for several seconds until his accompanying Amazons could pick apart his foe,' I explained. ‘That must have been horrible,' Oneida frowned. ‘Not at all,' I protested. ‘He was trusted with a crucial task; to hold the enemy's focus so the faster moving Amazons could attack their foe from multiple directions at once.' ‘The Amazons of House Ishara must have been very proud of him,' I fluffed out the fantasy. ‘From what you saw from my two exhibition with twin axes, it is very tiring. Vranus had to have absolute confidence his sisters were coming for him. They trusted one another, thus fighting as one organic unit. It was a synergy that included the best of both genders.' That last bit confused her. ‘Back then, most of the Host would have been of the same genetic stock from the time of the First Betrayal. Short and fast. The males of the region they took over were taller; the local men being even taller than the local women. That means you give men heavier and longer weapons. Your people would have favored bows, light shields and short spears; ranged, or quick in and out tools.' Was any of that true? Not a history major, so I have no clue. ‘Many of the Host at the time rode horses yet there are also pictures of them forming battle lines,' Oneida enlightened me then her own eyes expanded. ‘Males are always shown with solid round shields while the Host; women had the oval wicker shields.' ‘Lacking stirrups, the Amazons may have used the men to grapple with the enemy then rode their horses around the flanks, dismounted and engaged their opponents from the rear; Amazon style,' I grinned. It was. Amazons were all about out-maneuvering and confounding their foes. The Amazons hadn't been callous with their males' lives. At one time, chosen females had held the center line. Over time, as males joined, it was practical to adapt the solid wooden shields of their opponents for their own males and put them in the place where their upper body strength and size were of best effect. The unknown older male with Vranus had probably held his place in the battle line dozens of times. I doubt he complained, or even thought to complain. Who would have taken his place? A smaller sister, aunt, or daughter? Had other males objected? Sure, the battle line in Amazon tactics was not the place of glory. The striking arm were the horse-riders. Countless times adversaries had spent the last minutes of their lives with the echoes of horses, hooves and female Amazon war cries seemingly all around them. Some wise old dead fucker once said 'defeat starts in the mind'. I wholeheartedly believed in that; except my version was 'having sex with me starts with my insidious nature'. ‘Defeat starts in the mind,' I stared intently into Oneida's eyes. Love poetry is a matter of emotional context, not actual words. I pulled Oneida to me, letting her straddle my lap because I desperately wanted her to understand my tortured soul. Grinding her vulva against my hard-on was totally accidental, as was our renewed French kiss and me grabbing two handfuls of her ass. There was no rushing of things. Oneida was a skittish mare and I had to keep her feeling safe despite her sexual peril. Any woman who bothers to get to know me knows I am not a complicated guy. Case in point: by the time Oneida was feeding me her left nipple, Odette already had the security types sweep my bedroom (again) then the three retreated to Timothy's room and shut the door. Were Oneida's guardians worried about Oneida's carnal violation? No, why would they? Amazons had dick on demand. Virginity didn't hold any religious significance for them; killing things did. With the speed and efficiency those other two Amazons made themselves scarce, I imagined they were happy that Oneida had stopped mooning over me and getting a good grip on reality. A righteous dicking was in the offing. Oneida's open eyed, opened-mouth countenance when she found herself naked on my bed with a naked me hovering over her was precious. That look always was. It did necessitate a question. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?' I whispered. My aroused cock brushed along her thigh. The question was a courtesy. The answer was always the same because girls want to have sex. They also want to believe they have a say in the process from beginning to end. I say 'believe' because sex done right is passion and passion is the rejection of reason. At some point in the seduction, intercourse becomes an avalanche. Logic can scream all it wants; the hormones are not listening. I slipped into Oneida's velvety liquid embrace. She gave up a sigh of relief. She'd made the jump into intimacy. Any other explanation for what was going to happen would have implicated me as a 'Player'; which everyone else thought I was. Oneida had this romantic ideal of me that no amount of evidence appeared to shatter. Personally, I was starting to dread ever going to her bedroom. I wasn't sure of her 'My Little Pony' comforter would be a turn-off for me. I had done in it on Pocahontas and The Little Mermaid, so odds were I'd pull through in the clinch. ‘I am not hurting you, am I?' I moaned. Said for emotional impact alone. If I was causing a girl pain, I would have stopped first. ‘No,' happy murmuring, ‘I'm wonderful.' The most powerful organ human's possess is the brain. Oneida was a 'talker'. She wanted to express her feelings during intercourse; not give to directions, but as an effort to increase her participation in the sex act itself. Slow, steady strokes followed, withdrawing my glans half way along her labia, moved up and down slightly then gradually pushed back in. Every entry held something new for her. I added to the process by tilting her thigh and leg forward so that my next penetration tantalized a whole new series of trigger points in her cunny. On the next pass, Oneida began her own experimentations, twisting and adjusting the angle of her hips as I worked my rod in and out. Oneida began crying. I wasn't upset and that didn't make me a callous bastard. She was shedding tears of joy and regret; joy because her first climax was in the offing; regret because she wish she had done this with me sooner. She had been a Havenstone employee so we hadn't done the deed. We still had to keep our liaison secret. Why? I'd think of something. The real reason was pure politics. I never knew what wacky dame hated another wacky dame for reasons I couldn't even get into, but I knew it would curtail my dating opportunities. I'd pay the price of deception later. What I couldn't take was being denied sex without having done anything wrong first. ‘Am I making you happy?' Oneida gasped. No flippancy here; romance was the key. ‘You demand things from me few other women do,' I replied breathlessly. I wasn't going to lie to her. Prettying up the truth was good enough and it made her happy. I also got something new; to her, not to me. She orgasmed. Whatever she'd been satisfied with before, I obliterated in a few quick, decisive strokes. Oh God; did she go off! It has happened to me before; the door being kicked in; just not in mid-orgasm. Guns being pointed at yours truly while the girl was in mid-scream was new. And Oneida was still carrying on and on. ‘I was trying to tell you!' Odette was screaming. ‘He does that to us all the time; please don't shoot him.' The whole 'girl screaming at me in Old Kingdom Hittite' was also new. My mentor preferred Minoan. ‘I have come back from Death,' Oneida rasped. Her skin was flushed deep red from her exertion, she had bathed us both in sweat and she was coming up with any form of vocalization from Goddess-knows where she had screamed for so long. She looked at me with love in her eyes; damn it. She looked and looked and looked and; finally noticed the two women at the foot of the bed. ‘Is; some; thing; wrong?' Oneida panted while gazing at her two guardians with worry. ‘You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.' There was someone pounding on my apartment door. ‘Neighbor; door; I'm on it,' Odette called out. Seconds later the deadbolts clicked and the door opened. ‘Hello, Mr. Finnes.' ‘You God-damn Whore!' he screamed. ‘Where is that homo and his butt-buddy? The cops are on their way and this time you are all in the street.' He had a good head of steam on tonight. Slayer of Testicles #1 looked at Slayer of Testicles #2, nodded and left. ‘Who is this bitch,' Finnes got out. It was so wrong that I recognized the next sound. It was the barrel of a gun being inserted into a person's mouth. ‘Listen and listen carefully,' SoT#1 spoke softly. ‘You are going back to your hovel. If I get word, or even a bad premonition, that you are causing this apartment a hint of worry, I am going to come back and end you in a fashion the New York City's Coroner's Office will find memorable.' ‘I do not care if you have to puncture both eardrums to drown out the noise. I am not a compassionate person. In fact, I am considered sadistic by those who know me well. Now go back home, tell the police who show up this was all a mistake and give a prayer of thanks to whatever deity you grovel before that I didn't simply ram my firearm up your anus and decorate the ceiling in what passes for brains in your pathetic bone-sack of a body,' she menaced. There was a choking/gagging noise then the sound of heaving. ‘Mr. Finnes; are you okay?' Odette worried. As a wonderful counter-point. ‘Have you given me your seed?' Oneida asked hopefully. I was still hard. It had only been ten minutes of sex after all. I gently rocked my penis deeper in. ‘Oh,' she happily babbled. ‘Again?' SoT#2 questioned. I made a few more penetration cycles instead of speaking. ‘Do they train you in some sort of Sex Academy for this? Are there more males out there like you?' ‘Is having a viewing gallery a real damper on the mood?' I asked her while looking into Oneida's eyes. I was actually proud of Oneida for not sending the other woman away. It showed me she respected the woman's job. I also heard the apartment door shut. ‘Wow, your threat was nice and spooky,' Odette snickered. ‘Threat? Child, what do you think I do for a living?' SoT#1 asked. ‘You are one of those wacko, psycho-chicks Cáel Nyilas works with,' Odette was undoubtedly smiling. ‘Correct, I am one of those wacko, psycho-chicks;' SoT#1 left that hanging out there. ‘You weren't playing with Mr. Finnes, were you?' Odette grew quiet. Pause. ‘There is really a job which allows you to do that kind of stuff?' Pause. ‘Can I apply?' ‘This is not something you apply;' SoT#1 began, but then, ‘I guess if Cáel wants to; ‘ ‘Cool,' Odette was truly irrepressible. ‘If he does that, there will definitely be consequences and repercussions,' SoT#1 cautioned. ‘Oh, I think I had better stick with being his fuck-buddy,' Odette conceded. ‘Wise choice,' SoT#1 agreed. My bedroom door shut. SoT#2 had slipped out. Do you often have sex with an audience?' I teased Oneida. ‘Yes,' she answered matter-of-factly, ‘I do. Don't you?' ‘Now that you mention it;' and I got back to the pleasure that encompasses so much of my life. Sunday Night. ‘Cáel,' a voice purred over my phone. ‘Hey Nicole,' I greeted my lawyer not-quite a hook-up anymore. Also, unless you are Sure you know the female caller, don't take a gamble with the name. ‘So, do you have something going on tonight?' she queried. ‘Nope. My normal engagement had to cancel so I'm sitting back with some friends who do not appreciate the depth of my depravity,' I sighed. ‘Canceled?' She laughed. ‘On you? Have your recovered from the shock?' ‘Actually, they had a death in the family and had to go to South Carolina,' I explained. ‘Oh; sorry,' Nicole apologized. ‘Well, if you are feeling lonely and neglected, you could come by work and do me a favor.' ‘I am feeling neither lonely, nor neglected, but I am certainly missing you right now. Give me a half hour and I'll be there,' I promised. She thanked me and hung up. ‘Who is it this time?' Odette snickered. Man, I was becoming so used to her hanging around. ‘Nicole the lawyer,' I replied. I trekked back to my bedroom to prep. I opted for the 'Bad Boy' look; worn jeans, high-top tennis shoes (equally worn), my Plant Smashers t-shirt (Quebecois ska band; yes, I will road-trip to another country for sex) and my Bolingbrook bomber jacket. Yes, I was going to an Ivy League Law firm dressed like a carjacker. Every other male was going to be dressed in finely-tailored silk and I had to stand out. Since I couldn't outspend them, I was going to make them look like effete pussies by dressing like I just didn't care what anyone thought. I was coming over to screw Nicole and there would be no doubt about it. ‘Isn't that chick rich?' Timothy teased me. ‘Yeah. I'm packing the glow in the dark Trojans tonight; cause she's special,' I grinned. ‘Oh! I love those,' Odette squealed. She really needed to trust me less. I walked over, cupped her ears with my hand then kissed her on the forehead. I did the same to Timothy. His look suggested that I had best make a hasty exit before he kicked my ass. I caught a taxi a block away. It turned out he was from Qatar and he asked if I was sure about the address I gave him. I grinned then told him I could outrun 95% of the yPD so was feeling good about my chances. He snorted, countering with 'If you were an Arab, they'd shoot you.' Not to be outdone, 'I'd claim to be a Syrian anti-government protester; you know, because we all look alike to these Caucasians'. We laughed for a bit then he said he had a younger sister back in the homeland. I insisted I was immoral; a wicked man. 'Was I religious?' 'Only when it suited my purposes.' 'Would I consider converting to Sunni Islam?' 'Only if the girl was cute enough.' He showed me her picture; dammit, she had a really beautiful face. I got her name, his name and the name of his mosque. I considered it. Yahweh, Christ, Bacchus (wine, an orgy and 'bull' testicles; long story) and Jehovah all had reasons to barbeque my ass already. Why not add Allah to the mix, besides it being an incredibly stupid thing to do for a man in constant mortal peril like me? In theory, three of the four definitely had the possibility to be the same Omniscient and Omnipotent Galactic Being so the odds were I wouldn't get too much more screwed. I finished up my journey imagining Buffy in a burqa. That evolved into a vision of me being force-fed a burqa; in private; where no one could hear my muffled cries for help. Buffy; murdering me; made me horny. I am a sick puppy. ‘Buffy,' I called her as I paid the cabbie. ‘What; huh; are you okay, Cáel?' Buffy muttered. ‘Yes, I'm fine. I was dreaming of you and decided to give you a call,' I related in a sleepy voice. ‘Oh;' she sounded affectionate. ‘Yeah. In the dream you were murdering me. It was so romantic; so you,' I related. ‘Shit-for-brains, do you have any idea what time it is?' Buffy turned all savage in an instant. ‘Hmm; 11:45?' I offered up. ‘Call me this late again when it is not an emergency and your dream will become a reality,' she growled. ‘You know you sound so;' and she hung up on me. I called Nicole and warned her I was at her building, pursued by two FDIC investigators and could she please come and rescue me. She snickered, came down and retrieved me, but not before the yPD stopped by for a casual conversation and I hadn't even been standing there two minutes. In my neighborhood you were lucky if you saw a patrol car every thirty minutes and short of offering them some crack cocaine, cheap nookie, or shooting a gun off, they never stopped. Was I my normally fuck-wad self? No. I told the man/woman team the truth. Some upper crust weenies I worked with dragged me off to Yuppie Hell. I hooked up with a lawyer who I screwed repeatedly in the Women's bathroom and she was calling me for round 2. Second question (the first one was name/ID/reason for being in this part of town dressed like I was)? Was she paying me? 'No'. Was I practicing safe sex (female cop; married even)? 'Yes'. Was she the red-head at the door behind me? 'Yes she was and goodnight.' ‘What are you dressed like that for?' Nicole smiled. In her mind she already knew the answer; I had come here to screw her; raw and primal. ‘Ballroom dancing was not on the itinerary you gave me,' I smiled. We went inside. ‘My co-workers are still here,' she hinted seductively. ‘Whoa now!' I protested humorously. ‘I am not here to pull a train; girls only.' Nicole nearly fell over laughing. She was so embarrassed by me and my attire, she dragged me straight to the conference room 'her' team was working out of. Everyone else was eating. Two of the lawyers were clearly the top dogs; a man and a woman. The woman had a vague resemblance to one of the portraits I'd seen coming in; a legacy. The man screamed 'serial killer'. It probably made him one hell of a lawyer, but spooky to live with, or work for. The other nine people in the room were in two groups. Two were obviously paralegals. They dressed in what must have started out as clean, starched clothing from off the rack as opposed to tailored. The other seven were lawyers in their own dual set-up. My amateur guess was two different branches of law. This group was dressed in fine clothes now wrinkled from a long day's work, plus it was a Sunday. They were not at their best yet they were still better than most of what I had. The most endearing part was how they looked at me. Even the female contingent thought that I was trash. I had certainly given them the opportunity. Seriously, they should have paid more attention to Nicole, her intelligence, competence and tastes. Come on now; there was no way she'd bring some grease-monkey from Flatbush to her workplace. They needed to engage their brains and not their social bias. A murmur slithered through the crowd. Amusement and condescension were the clear messages shot my way. I imagine the poor soul who delivered the food got less crap because he/she was providing a tangible service. ‘Nicole, who is this?' the woman asked. Sex. Outside of her being a soulless cancer on the hopes and dreams of mankind, she was an alluring forty-something. ‘This is my friend Cáel;' Nicole began, both her arms wrapped around my right arm. ‘Cáel Belafonte,' I interrupted. You could tell who the trial lawyers in the room were. Their expressions told me they knew I was lying. ‘Fascinating Mr. Belafonte,' Mr. Serial-Killer droned on. ‘What do you do?' ‘I am an Ichthyologist,' I met his gaze. ‘I'm involved in a twenty year study to determine the cause for the reduction in the size of Tuna fish scales.' That had them stumped. ‘That sounds like yet another great waste of government funds,' a young male lawyer with more bravado than combat-sex experience fired off. ‘Oh,' I shrugged. ‘Smaller scales, smaller full-sized Tuna, a spike in tuna prices and an eventual world-wide restriction on Tuna fishing, similar to the one currently covering virtually all whale species. Now, I doubt you know which people will decide who the recipient of those lucrative Tuna contracts will be, but I do. By all means; mock what you don't understand.' ‘Government research project results will be in the public domain,' a woman joined the struggle. ‘Yes; and?' I asked in a bland tone. ‘Your research will be available to all kinds of commercial concerns,' male asshat grinned. ‘Your ability to show that you are as smart as any pre-law student must make someone, somewhere very proud,' I grinned back. Confused looks. Nicole was struggling to keep it together. ‘He never said he was in any manner part of the government, or a government program, Mr. Cherrie,' the female lead barracuda gave me her own hungry look. The guy looked pissed. ‘Oh, Mr. Belafonte, are you a private researcher, or a government one?' she female junior lawyer asked. ‘Heather Pulaski,' she gave her name. ‘Call me Cáel, Heather, and I am in no way associated with any government, I barely know what an Ichthyologist is and I'm certainly not one. Rude, arrogant people annoy me when they treat my friends like they are stupid; especially when they should know better. I can rarely stop myself from ridiculing them,' I grinned. ‘And now you think you are better than everyone else in the room for tricking us with this juvenile prank,' the Serial Killer sounded bored. ‘No. The lives of strangers are not my concern,' I bantered back. ‘I did what I did to make Nicole smile. If my antics remind the rest of you what a hotshot lawyer she is so much the better.' ‘Mr. and Mrs. Dyoung, Cáel, Cáel Nyilas, is a joker. He's is also brilliant and just joined Havenstone Commercial Investments in their Executive Services Division,' Nicole bragged. She got points for the 'Executive Services' part. More smirks; some people never learn. ‘Havenstone doesn't employ too many men, does it?' Mrs. Dyoung said. Maybe she was looking for a Discrimination lawsuit. ‘Five men to be precise and two of us are out of the country,' I enlightened her. ‘So you are brilliant,' Mr. Dyoung seemed barely engaged; and was Mrs. Dyoung's Mr. Dyoung. ‘What are your insights on DNA ownership, Cáel?' ‘DNA ownership is a fallacy,' I stated. ‘People are not pigs, soybeans, or corn. You cannot create a financial liability for your offspring because that amounts to slavery and is forbidden by the 14th Amendment to the Constitution. DNA is a person; their blueprint. Only the person owns it and they can't even sell it outright.' ‘That is hopelessly naive,' he snorted. ‘Not really. If you apply an accepted price tag to every human being on Earth, the anarchy will begin. Crimes like murder, torture and mutilation are based on the concept that human life has an unspecified value. Give something a value and you can trade in it.' ‘Murder somebody? How much was their DNA worth?' I postulated. ‘I pay the cost, or somebody pays it for me. You are calling me naïve? I'm not murdering somebody. I'm repossessing their DNA. Mr. Dyoung, I'm not a lawyer, so I am not approaching this from a limited field of vision like you are. I live in the World.' ‘Oddly enough, I've had some recent encounters with real slavery and that has convinced me that I'll go down standing up, thank you very much,' I grinned. ‘In case that was misconstrued; my DNA is mine, no legal precedent will change that and I'm more than willing to put bodies in the ground to keep it so.' ‘You sound like an anarchist,' Mr. Cherrie chimed in. ‘Nope. I'm independent-minded. There is a difference,' I indicated. ‘Just like you, anarchists don't want to let me be me either.' ‘Laws exist for a reason,' Nicole chastised me. What she was really saying was 'you are here for a reason and it isn't entertaining my co-workers'. ‘This is the point where the smart man goes 'yes ma'am, they do',' I nodded to her. ‘Your young man is not stupid,' Mrs. Dyoung chuckled. ‘This young man knows what happens if he behaves,' Nicole bowed to her superior; her boss, not me. ‘Oh goodie,' I rubbed my hands together. ‘Are we about to do some file-sharing?' ‘Something like that,' Nicole laughed and off we went. All I could imagine was that Nicole had to be God's Own lawyer at this firm to get away with the crap we'd just pulled. Honestly, I had other things on my mind. We coasted into her office, with her name etched on the glass door; with the glass walls and floor to ceiling glass windows. Just because, I picked up a water-smoothed stone on her desk; glass houses and all. ‘That is from the Canadian Shield; some of the oldest rocks on Earth,' she told me. ‘You are also going to have one of the most painful hard substance on Earth in your office if we don't do something soon,' I teased. ‘Where do you want to start?' she leaned against her desk. Her office was small, but it was her own. Considering her age, it was another 'she rocks' indicator. ‘Your lips,' I murmured. Nicole liked that. She pushed off the desk enough so our lips could lock. It was very nice. ‘The other lips,' I teased her. She liked that idea even more. Her black, mid-thigh skirt came up, I knelt and decided her scarlet thong was more than skimpy enough for me to work around. I let my hands run along her calves. Nicole hummed out her acclaim and was even happier when I began lifting both legs up. Before long, she was laying on her back, her legs were raised high and spread wide. Nice and easy was replaced by rapidly energetic and fiendishly cunning. Nicole was fighting back the tidal surge of her ecstasy. ‘What are you holding back for?' I slurped around my tongue-lashing. We weren't in a bathroom stall this time. Nicole tilted her head up, gave me a simmer glance then embraced her orgasm. ‘Damn!' she screamed followed by a dozen slightly less vocal 'damns'. I gave her just enough time for me to shed my pants, roll down a prophylactic then I mounted. Had there been any doubt of our forceful ardor, my heroic efforts and Nicole's dynamism shattered them. Half of the lawyers I'd briefly met stopped by and peeked through the glass. I didn't care and Nicole reveled in 'bending the minds' of the onlookers. After a while, her office was not enough. That sofa in the executive reception area? I bent her over the art deco beast and pummeled it, half way across the room. The bathroom? To be gender-equal, we screwed around in the Men's room this time. Nicole and I revisited her erotic fantasy of being bent over in the toilet, sodomized, then completing the act with dispensing of the condom and a glorious blowjob. Our last encounter involved a men's standing urinal, Nicole's legs wrapped around my waist as I gyrated. ‘Oh my God!' she yelped. ‘I've got it. Put me down.' I put her down because the reason I was here was to crack the mental block she had found herself in. Me? I'd come for the sex and Nicole delivered in spades. She had upheld her side of our bargain. Now that I'd reciprocated, it was time for 'hook-up' Nicole to become 'lawyer' Nicole. She made herself somewhat presentable and quick-stepped in back to the conference room. I secured my cock and pants before following. Nicole was babbling in an eldritch dark-tongue similar to Lady Sauron relaying doom to her pack of Nazgûl. They responded with various other arcane invocations until their agreement confirmed that millions of voices had cried out in terror then been suddenly silenced. In my universe, female devotees of Evil were all black leather-clad gorgeous sex kittens who used their dark arts to increase galactic lecherousness. ‘Time to show you out,' Nicole gave me a sultry smirk. ‘Come on.' Arm in arm, we traveled closely to the elevators. ‘Hold the door,' a female voice commanded right as the doors began to shut on the two of us. Nicole put a hand out to keep us from a few more second of alone time. A Caucasian women with short brown hair and a fierce scowl entered first. An imperious damsel came in next. My heart stopped in shock while I barely registered on her radar. A dusky man, nearly my height came in last of all. The doors shut and down we went. I was spending too much time watching the woman and her two bodyguards as we all headed to the door and not enough with Nicole. ‘Don't even think about it, Cáel,' Nicole teased. ‘That's Miss Brianna O'Shea, she leads our client's team and she's totally off limits.' O'Shea pulled a 'Katrina' the moment after Nicole used my name. She spun in place so that she was now facing Nicole and me. ‘What was your name?' she asked with sugary smoothness I associated with Bolivian tourism officials; the nice ones. You know, the ones that thought using a truck battery attached to the jumper cables and your testicles was too much because a car battery would do. ‘Percival Fenris, ma'am,' I introduced myself. ‘I'm a product engineer for Cyberdyne Systems. My team is creating a process that uses constantly recycling colored sugar dust as a medium that will replace current LCD technology. We are calling it Pixie TV.' Nicole was giggling. I was feeling less giggly, mainly because I was staring at my Mother. Not my Mother-mother; the woman who gave birth to me and who had been eaten alive by cancer. No, this was my Mother the way she looked when she was twenty-five and in excellent health. ‘Miss O'Shea, this is Cáel Nyilas. He is a good friend of mine,' Nicole cut through my obfuscation. O'Shea took several steps toward us, away from the exit. Her guardians kept up and were ratcheting up their vigilance. ‘Interesting eyes,' she noted. ‘What is your heritage?' Rude and scary. Even Nicole knew something was incredibly wrong. ‘Cáel, you two have the same eyes,' Nicole mumbled. ‘I was thinking the same thing, Miss Lawless,' Brianna said. Huh? ‘You are a lawyer named Lawless?' I gawked at Nicole. ‘How did that happen?' Why had that not registered when I went to Nicole's office? Oh yeah, her leading me in, eyes pleading for sex. ‘That is not relevant, Mr. Nyilas,' O'Shea kept coming. ‘What do you mean 'not relevant'? Are you saying you'd hire a male escort named Quick-fire Small-Penis?' I wondered. ‘If so, you are a more trusting soul than I.' ‘Why are you avoiding my question?' Brianna queried. ‘Why are you asking questions I clearly don't want to answer?' I retorted. ‘Cáel, please don't antagonize my client's representative,' Nicole was playful yet concerned. ‘No problem Nicole Lawless, Attorney at Law,' I grinned to her. I gave her a secretive ass squeeze then made to leave. Miraculously, Brianna let me slip by. The deceptiveness of that kindness was revealed when I stepped outside and found the limo; with another bodyguard standing beside the front passenger door. O'Shea/Mom's double was hot on my heels. As I turned and headed up the street, she grabbed my right arm. ‘Why don't we go out for a late bite to eat,' she stated. I wasn't being invited. I was being told. ‘No can do,' I shrugged off her hand. ‘I promised my Father to leave a recognizable corpse.' ‘What makes you think I have sinister intentions?' she questioned. There was a lot of that going around; not answering stuff, that is. ‘Why do you assume you aren't giving off the same bad vibe as a half-dozen 18th Street gangbangers on a Meth binge?' I teased. Brianna made a hand signal and the three bruisers put their hands on their guns. The closest to me moved around me to block off that escape route. To be correct, the guy at the car door was African-American, around my height with maybe 10 kg on me. The two guarding O'Shea were a guy of Moorish decent and a woman of the English Midlands. I knew this because I was afraid and making shit up. ‘Was I supposed to be impressed with the quiet appeal of desperation you exhibited by playing patty-cake with yourself,' I kept smiling. ‘Or are these three supposed to scare me?' I chuckled. ‘Here; in downtown Manhattan; one of the few places on the planet Earth trying to rival London in video surveillance.' ‘Video evidence can be altered,' Brianna gave me a wicked gleam. ‘Was that supposed to be your Evil Henchwoman voice?' I kept snickering. ‘If so, get a refund from that mail-order firm you took lessons from,' I grinned. ‘You appear to be rather fearless, and obstinate,' O'Shea nodded. ‘Foolishly so.' ‘Lady, I'm staring into the face of my dead Mother who is trying to get me into a limo with three goombahs who think they are intimidating. They are not,' I pointed out. ‘This whole weekend has been a disaster, so me beating the crap out of those three, you and the driver isn't going to change a damn thing,' I enlightened them. The Moorish guy extended a collapsible cane. ‘You seem very confident,' she informed me. ‘Of course I am,' I stated. ‘You haven't spotted my bodyguard yet, meaning all of you are truly screwed.' ‘Why would you have a bodyguard?' she inquired. ‘Why would you want to know?' I countered. ‘Do you practice being irritating, or is an innate talent?' Brianna regarded me. ‘We can do this 'answering a question with a question' thing all night long, except I have to be at work at six a.m. so how about you tell me what you really want to know and tell me why you look like; screw that; are my Mother's clone,' I sighed. ‘Tell me about your genetic heritage,' O'Shea demanded. She was that kind of authoritative prick; actual penis not required. ‘I apologize. I don't seem to have a handle your native vocabulary and your English-as-a-Second Language skills suck,' I sneered. ‘I should go home now.' Moorish guy blocked my egress. English chick was on my right flank, back to the limo and the street. The most pressing issue was a matter of privilege; O'Shea's people thought they'd get away with breaking the law. The moment the Moor popped out is baton, it was 'on'. A baton is a weapon plus O'Shea and her bodyguard were blocking my exit. I was legally free to attack him now. Normally I was lawfully compelled to exit the scene as opposed to engaging in violence. Since I couldn't run away, I was allowed to kick his ass; and O'Shea and company didn't give a crap. I worked five-plus days a week with people like that. The wavy-red haired, emerald green-eyed O'Shea wasn't the daughter of some Mafioso, or Nigerian Warlord. I didn't know what she was, but she was the many opposites of good news. ‘I imagine you think I didn't notice that Taser,' I addressed the Englishwoman while getting in the Moor's face. ‘That is an unfortunate miscalculation on your part.' ‘See, your dumbass partner, with his wonderful 80 cm tool, has let me get inside his reach. Before he can bring it to bear, I'm going to crush it trachea,' I outlined. ‘Now I have his tool and the whole reach thing is working in reverse. You have a hand-held device with a 10 cm reach and I have one that is 80 cm and the distance to make effective use of it.' ‘Don't worry about the guy at the door. By the time I face you, my bodyguard will lethally wound Miss O'Shea there. In case you missed it, now you are all screwed because your job is to guard her, not suppress me; and you all just failed,' I kept the Moor's eye contact. ‘While this horror crosses your mind, I'll break your hand.' ‘Your buddy isn't coming to help you. He's running to Miss O'Shea because he's supposed to keep her alive and that takes all his time and concentration. You poor driver will get out and, not yet having his situational awareness, my bodyguard will neutralize him. About the same time, I will crack your skull open. This allows me to decide whether, or not to kill Miss O'Shea,' I concluded. All of that was an utter and complete fantasy. Collapsible batons; I'd seen them in a few movies. Tasers? I have been tazed and never, ever want to repeat the process; three separate incidences was enough for me. Did I have a bodyguard close by? I had not asked for one and Havenstone had the sad habit of not telling me a damn thing that concerned my personal survival. On the plus side, I could be a compelling actor, or successful conman. I'm not an actor by the grace of two little words; sex scandal. If I sleep with a girl I want it to be because I've tricked and deceived her, not because she wants to tape us then sell it to the media. That would make me feel degraded; cheapened even. I'm not a conman because they use seduction to get what they want. For me, the seduction IS what I want. Steal their money? That would imply I would never, ever be able to sleep with them again. I couldn't do that and remain true to myself. To prove my point, the Moor looked past me to O'Shea for instructions. I punched him in his Solar Plexus and took his toy as I shoved his breathless form to the sidewalk. The Englishwoman expected me to attack her, just like I'd told her I would. It took her a second to realize I'd played her. By then it was too late. I could flee up the street if I wanted. ‘You attacked my man,' O'Shea noted casually. ‘Well, your ears are dicey, but your eyes are spot-on,' I snorted. ‘Shoot him,' O'Shea was decided to wrap this up. I was ceasing to be amusing. ‘In the legs.' Out came the guns and down went my likelihood of getting out of this intact. Pamela walked out of the building we'd exited a minute ago. She was wearing tight black stretch pants, a red turtleneck and a short beige jacket. ‘Protocols,' Pamela invoked in a bored voice. ‘Define,' O'Shea demanded. ‘Cáel,' Pamela kept her gaze on O'Shea, ‘who do you work for?' ‘Havenstone,' I answered. O'Shea looked from Pamela to me. ‘This does not protect a simple employee,' O'Shea stated. ‘I am invoking the Protocols. This does not require me to explain things to you,' Pamela was cool and relaxed. ‘By all means, if you feel I am abusing the Truce, kick it upstairs and it will be adjudicated.' ‘What is your name?' Brianna O'Shea requested of Pamela. ‘Cáel Nyilas. That is all you need to know,' Pamela smirked. ‘That is not possible,' Brianna gained her own barracuda grin. ‘He is Illuminati business. Look at his eyes.' Pamela laughed. The WHO? Weren't they some kind of Freemasons? ‘He walks away right now unless you explain yourself. He is at Havenstone. Whatever relationship he possessed with the Illuminati ceased when he was hired,' Pamela informed her. ‘Cáel Nyilas, tell me about your Mother,' Brianna commanded. ‘No,' I shrugged. ‘It is a simple enough question,' Miss O'Shea persisted. ‘And it is simply none of your business,' I held my ground. ‘I am her sister,' O'Shea declared. Pamela snorted but otherwise kept silent. ‘Ugh; that was not what I wanted to hear,' I groaned. Pamela snickered. She knew where my mind was. ‘Why should I believe you?' ‘You had your genetic sequence analyzed Thursday, didn't you?' O'Shea said. ‘That was flagged by people working for me because you and I share half of the same DNA.' ‘That's not possible,' Pamela stated in the same way she knew I was a cosmic joke. ‘How is that not possible?' I looked to Pamela. I was really starting to accept me and Homicidal O'Shea were family. Why? I'd never had to confront the incest taboo before and here it was looking right at me. O'Shea looked to Pamela, to me, back to Pamela then finally back at me. ‘Do you have a single clue about what is going on?' Brianna addressed me. ‘Yeah, of course I do,' I lied. ‘You are with the Illuminati and you know Havenstone is more than a bunch of greedy bitches.' Pause. ‘So you know nothing about what is going on here, right at this moment,' O'Shea's eyes skewered me. Sigh. ‘Mom; your sister, is dead;' I got out. ‘Yes, she died seven years ago,' Brianna interrupted. ‘What?' I glared. ‘No, she died fifteen years ago. Where do you get your information from and why didn't you at least check out the fucking gravestone?' I snapped. ‘Fifteen; that doesn't make sense; I didn't know where she died, only that when her medication ran out, she would have been consumed by some kind of aggressive cancer,' O'Shea responded. ‘What;' sort of slipped out. ‘How many brothers and sisters do you have?' O'Shea probed. ‘Like I'd tell you,' I growled. ‘None,' Pamela stated. ‘Thanks,' I glared at Pam. ‘Why don't you give away all my bargaining chips?' ‘Cáel, they know your last name,' Pamela stated. ‘Do you want them to hunt down your father and torture him for the names and locations of any other children?' ‘If you go after my Dad;' I became aggressive. ‘You will do nothing,' Pamela interrupted. ‘He is not covered by the Truce.' ‘A Truce I know nothing about,' I grumbled. ‘Screw all of you.' ‘Don't sweat it, Cáel. They need you and I can prove it with two honestly answered question,' Pamela smirked. ‘What name are you using today?' to Brianna. ‘Brianna O'Shea,' the red-haired lady replied. ‘How quaint; your real name. Brianna, how many other nieces and nephews do you and your sisters have?' Pamela inquired. Brianna glared. ‘I'll answer that for her; none. That begs the question of why you,' Pamela smiled at me, ‘exist at all. I'm sure that come Monday morning every medic at Havenstone is going to be crawling all over you looking for that answer.' O'Shea had a new game plan. She was going to murder Pamela and kidnap me. This meant I was going to get screwed up; maybe killed. Pamela would kill everyone else and sex would be extra painful for the next week to ten days; I was tired of that crap. I dropped the baton and walked up to Brianna. The bodyguards were twitching, Brianna was calculating multiple variables and Pamela looked mildly amused. I hugged Brianna. ‘If we are family then we are family,' I explained. ‘If there is something you want to talk to me about, give me a call. I'm in the book and I'm sure Havenstone can patch you through if you want to get in touch with me at work.' Pamela was struggling to contain her mirth. ‘Can you keep this discussion under wraps for now?' Brianna requested. The likelihood of that happening must have showed in my eyes. ‘Okay, who do you work for?' Pamela was laughing into her hand. ‘Umm; I work for Katrina Love of Executive Services,' I answered. O'Shea almost had an embolism. ‘It is okay, my desk is in her office, so we are pretty close.' Not at all what she wanted to hear. ‘Okay, I'll stop teasing you. I know who Katrina is and what she does; basically making people like you have believably fatal accidents.' ‘You are a man? Why are you still walking around free?' O'Shea muttered. ‘His sexual dynamism supersedes the sublimely addictive,' Pamela enlightened O'Shea, ‘and if you don't believe me, go up and ask that 'Nicole Lawless' woman.' ‘I was going to say 'I look great in hose and a push-up bra', but that works too,' I muttered. And the last thing I wanted to envision at that reality-cracking moment happened. Brianna O'Shea looked me over and that look said 'Sex'. She was my aunt! Technically; somehow; that should matter, right? ‘Aunt Brianna; Brianna; Auntie O'Shea; what do you want me to call you?' I stammered. ‘Brianna will do,' she pulled those plush red lips into a grin and extended her hand. I shook it. She had a strong grip. She was tapping the pulse in my wrist with her forefinger; a tried and true arousal technique I'd used countless times. ‘I'm really happy that we are family;' I evaded. ‘I had regular sex with mine and your mother's father, your grandfather,' Brianna discussed with the outrage normally reserved for the 'do you want your cantaloupe in wedges, or scoops' debate. ‘My; we'll just toss that in the category of things I never wanted to know,' I coughed. Wait! I could do better than that. This deserved sympathy, not comedy. ‘I am glad you got that off your chest,' I stroked her hand back; okay, not my brightest idea. ‘Has Grandpa stopped doing that?' ‘Your Grandfather is dead,' Brianna delivered the bad news. It was doubly bad because she seemed to really miss the jack-ass. At least I didn't have to feign grief at the bastard's funeral. This also would explain why Mom ran away from home and told Dad and I that her family all perished in a freak Sperm Whale hunting accident in the Arctic. You know, that sounded much more believable when I was five. Dad was crazy in love, which explained his suspension of disbelief whenever she walked in the room. ‘He was assassinated in his study in our mountain home, his throat slit clean through and his body desecrated beyond our ability to resurrect him,' Brianna shed a tear. This was the point where I seriously began worrying about there being a natural gas leak that was either screwing up what I was hearing, or what other people were saying. ‘Wow; how sad,' I tried to sound shaken by the news. ‘I know,' Brianna hugged me. But wait, ‘You smell like him (deep, sensual purr); Dad, that is.' Oh God No! ‘Well with Granddad gone, you seem to have done well for yourself; lves,' I corrected. It sounded like I had aunts in the plural, I was praying for the positive, plus a quick exit. ‘No, we can't move on until we find the assassin,' Brianna told me. She added in a whisper, ‘We know she was an Amazon.' Ah, look, an invitation by my freakish, incestuous aunt to betray the insane fanatics I worked for. I began crying. ‘I understand,' Brianna reached around and patted my back, ‘This must be a lot for you to take in.' ‘You have no idea,' I sniffled. What was my mind was saying: 'By the way, Aunt Brianna, the wacked-out chick that offed Granddad is two meters away from you and you definitely didn't bring a big enough army to deal with her'. ‘Why don't you come home with me tonight?' Brianna offered somewhat plaintively. Sex; worse, I wasn't coming up with any really convincing reasons to not have sex with her. We would do it with the lights off. That way I wouldn't be looking into the face of the Mother of my youth having an orgasm impaled on me. Maybe dim lighting would be okay too. ‘I can't go home with you tonight,' I looked away. ‘I'm feeling vulnerable.' That was exactly why she wanted to take me home with her; confused and vulnerable would allow her to revisit her nostalgic Father-Daughter fornications. ‘You need someone who loves you to look after you,' Brianna prodded. ‘That's what I'm for,' Pamela came to my rescue. Glares and snippets of wrath ensued. In the end, Pamela and I made our getaway. A few blocks away; I didn't want a taxi yet; Pamela speaking voided my introspection. ‘Questions?' ‘Where were you hiding while Nicole and I were having sex?' I mused. ‘Which time?' Pamela taunted me. ‘You mean you followed us to the Men's bathroom (we were reliving our first sexual encounter and then some)?' I groused. ‘I am not saying I was there. I'm not saying I wasn't. I'm not saying,' Pamela smirked. Pause. ‘You killed Grandpa?' I asked. ‘Yes.' ‘You stole his soul?' ‘Yes.' ‘You took yourself to the cliffs to destroy his soul; and yours?' ‘Yes.' ‘You decided not to because of his curse/warning?' ‘No.' ‘Um; why didn't you kill yourself?' ‘He; your Grandfather; had a back-up plan. Having me kill myself was a ploy. Had I done it, I would have lost my soul, his soul would have been released and Havenstone would have thought him dead. At the last moment I gained the insight he had a body already prepared for him that no other person knew about,' Pamela informed me. ‘You.' ‘My Mother didn't know?' I worried. ‘I am not sure. Most likely she thought she had escaped the Old Bastard.' ‘Ugh; family life around Christmas must have been a blast,' I grumbled. ‘The Illuminati make a mockery of the Cult of Christ. They have influenced the Catholic hierarchy for a millennia.' ‘How did she get away; if she got away?' I muttered. ‘Your Mother and Aunts were born to be slaves, but contained nearly all the DNA of your Grandfather; essentially female 'hims'. That meant they are all very, very smart so your Mother figured out a way and fled. Somehow she found your Father and happiness.' ‘He let her get away, didn't he?' I asked. ‘Don't sell your Mother short,' Pamela chided me. ‘He most likely engineered her escape from his estate, but the rest was her. Otherwise, you would have had Illuminati watchers all this time. No, your Grandfather wanted her to be completely free of the Illuminati, and all the other secret orders, until he was ready to make his return.' ‘Why did Brianna think Mom died of cancer seven years ago?' I went for next. ‘All your aunts need medication to keep them healthy and young,' Pamela related. ‘The only one with the formula was your Grandfather and, after so many decades, those bitches have to be running out of it soon, if they haven't already exhausted their supply.' ‘Without the drugs, your Mother would have aged and developed various cancers that would have escalated in their aggression until she died. For some reason, she stopped taking her medications before they ran out,' Pamela ruminated. ‘To have me,' I lowered my head. Mom had died because she knew Dad wanted a child; me. ‘It is not impossible that she couldn't have a child while on the regimen. That sounds like something that bastard Cáel O'Shea would have done,' Pamela agreed. ‘What?' I gulped. ‘You were named after your maternal grandfather, who I studied for weeks, and I can tell you that Cáel Nyilas is a hundred times the person he ever was,' Pamela assured me. ‘Let's not tell my aunt that,' I grunted. ‘Don't worry about that,' Pamela patted me on the back. ‘All of your aunts are most likely addicted to his pheromones and you have some variant of them.' ‘The fuck you say!' I gawked. ‘Oh yeah. He was that kind of son of a bitch.' ‘So when I get scared, they get horny?' I despaired. ‘Or if you are your regular horny self,' Pamela chortled. ‘Hell, Brianna is probably humping that urinal you and Miss Lawless engaged as a; prop earlier this evening.' ‘You are just a cornucopia of horrific knowledge, aren't you?' I groused. ‘I've never had a friend like you,' Pamela enlightened me. ‘You've never had a friend before,' I countered. I hadn't known her a week and I already wanted to kill her half the time as it was. I wondered if women felt the same way about me on occasion. ‘That would definitely make you my finest friend then,' she snickered. ‘Thanks,' I grumbled. ‘Just for that, when I have Daphne bent over with her head and shoulders pressed against the wall while I slam her from behind with all this pent up rage, I'll be thinking of you.' ‘Really?' she queried. ‘Of course not. Daphne is smoking hot. When I finally have sex with her, the only thing I'll be thinking about besides Daphne is how I'm going to have sex with her again,' I grinned. ‘Good,' she smiled happily. Yes, we were talking about me boinking her granddaughter and she was A-Okay with it. ‘Remember, there is no need to use a condom.' ‘I'm not falling for that, you evil witch
Emergency Council Makes Bold Move.. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.” I biked home, brushing a city bus and a BMW getting there. On the landing between the second and third floors I found an Amazon with baleful eyes; waiting. In front of my door was her psychic twin. ‘Can I get you and/or your cohort anything?' I politely inquired. Yesterday; the cold shoulder. ‘Thank you for the consideration. We will wait until our itinerary is clarified,' she nodded. I went in, catching the abrupt cut off of some 'O' talk. 'O', as in Odette and Oneida. They were on the sofa, half-turned to face each other when I walked in. Oneida stood and gave the standard Amazon respectful nod. ‘Oneida was all screwed up inside about last night in the Park, so I was explaining some of the basic tenants of BDSM to her,' Odette blithely blathered. ‘BDSM? What do you know about BDSM? I barely know about it and I've been having non-stop sex for years,' I exclaimed. ‘Cáel of Ishara, did you do those things to Rhada in an effort to fulfill her dreams?' Oneida desperately pleaded. Worse, it was spoken in English. ‘I can't talk about it,' I replied. ‘That is 'Cáel' for 'yes',' Odette intruded. ‘I began reading up on BDSM after you got the suspension rig,' was her saucy response to me. ‘Would you ever do that to me?' Oneida gave me those big doe-eyes as she sat down. No, she didn't want a rape fantasy. That kind of submission wasn't her thing. I paced around, stomped into the kitchen then back to the living room. ‘No Oneida, I would never do something like that to you,' I promised. ‘I like having sex; a whole bunch. I like the women I'm with to have a great time too.' ‘That means I figure out what really excites her and provide it because I normally want to have sex with that girl again,' I explained, neglecting the 'and again and again and again.' ‘Is it over between you two?' Oneida asked. She meant Rhada and me. ‘Oneida, did I ask you to come over today?' I countered. ‘Have I upset you?' Oneida's lower lip trembled. 'Yes' would make things so much easier. ‘No,' I lied. ‘Let's look at this from another angle. How would you feel if Paula showed up at your domicile unannounced? You walked in and there she was.' ‘Oh,' she stood up again. ‘I apologize.' At this moment, saying nothing meant she'd leave. I'm an idiot. ‘Do you want to stay for dinner?' I offered. It took a few seconds for Oneida to forgive herself enough to accept my suggestion. Me raping Rhada less than 24 hours ago? We'd deal with that later, or so she promised herself. ‘Okay; if it is not too much trouble,' Oneida nodded. In came the doom and gloom duo and we ordered some over-sized sandwiches from an Italian Deli two blocks away. After the two walked through my place (again, I was sure) and the food arrived, the bodyguards relaxed into a close proximity of human beings. The freakishness continued as Odette bonded with the Amazon killers with tales of my sexual exploits. At the same time, I romanced Oneida in half a dozen languages. Storming those gates was going to take more time than I normally gave a single sexual encounter. Oneida kissed me. She loved kissing me. She was ecstatic about kissing me. She made it real clear there would be not petting; yet. Penetration wasn't even on the (her) agenda. This didn't meant I was accepting her marching orders. I was far craftier than that. My plan was one of 'setting an example'. I stood up; we were sitting on the bench press seat, shot Odette a sexy look then went to the kitchenette. We got something; whatever it was wasn't important. The crucial activity was my surrounding Odette in my arms from behind. I kissed her neck, Odette wiggled her ass against my crotch and murmured happily. More kissing along the neck, ear and jawline ensued. Odette exhaled a happy breath, and twisted around in my grasp until we were face to face. An exhaustive French kiss finishing up with a few light pecks and led to us rubbing noses like Inuit. ‘Thanks buddy,' I smiled warmly at Odette. ‘She blue-balling ya?' Odette snickered. ‘Big time,' I muttered. Odette squiggled down my body then bit both my nipples through my shirt making me gasp. ‘That should do nicely,' Odette's eyes were alight and she was super-pleased with herself. She smacked my ass then returned to the living room. I returned to Oneida. After a few seconds, ‘Does it disturb you to be treated like that?' Oneida murmured. ‘Like what?' I sounded so innocent. Trust me; this is a crucial relationship tool. ‘Like; like we would treat one of our males,' she looked for my reaction. I laughed. ‘The critical difference is that I can say 'no',' I smiled. ‘Oneida, do you think the original Ash Men spent every moment not in battle, contemplating their place in the Universe?' Clearly, she had. ‘Believe me, men hunted, worked their crafts and chased female Amazons when they weren't eating, or sleeping.' ‘Warfare is an emotional undertaking,' I had read that somewhere. ‘You can believe that with the battle safely won, your ancestors and my ancestors fooled around. They sang songs, wrote poetry, and created artwork for the ladies they courted. They wanted the attention of the strongest, bravest and most courageous mates, just like your ancestors did.' ‘I think I do know something about the Ash Men you don't,' I prodded her. ‘What? I have studied them for many years,' Oneida was now more engaged. ‘What can you tell me about Vranus?' I asked. That stumped her. ‘I; nothing is written of his exploits,' Oneida admitted. ‘We know he was a young warrior for Ishara.' ‘Think about this, Oneida; Vranus was only twenty yet a member of the Host,' I started. She nodded. ‘He is shown with twin axes; no shield and no bow. That means he had to be very brave, rushing through the initial exchange of arrow fire and thrown spears to attack his enemy. His House probably directed him to large clumps of opponents, breaking their formations for the Host to exploit.' ‘That means he fought alone for several seconds until his accompanying Amazons could pick apart his foe,' I explained. ‘That must have been horrible,' Oneida frowned. ‘Not at all,' I protested. ‘He was trusted with a crucial task; to hold the enemy's focus so the faster moving Amazons could attack their foe from multiple directions at once.' ‘The Amazons of House Ishara must have been very proud of him,' I fluffed out the fantasy. ‘From what you saw from my two exhibition with twin axes, it is very tiring. Vranus had to have absolute confidence his sisters were coming for him. They trusted one another, thus fighting as one organic unit. It was a synergy that included the best of both genders.' That last bit confused her. ‘Back then, most of the Host would have been of the same genetic stock from the time of the First Betrayal. Short and fast. The males of the region they took over were taller; the local men being even taller than the local women. That means you give men heavier and longer weapons. Your people would have favored bows, light shields and short spears; ranged, or quick in and out tools.' Was any of that true? Not a history major, so I have no clue. ‘Many of the Host at the time rode horses yet there are also pictures of them forming battle lines,' Oneida enlightened me then her own eyes expanded. ‘Males are always shown with solid round shields while the Host; women had the oval wicker shields.' ‘Lacking stirrups, the Amazons may have used the men to grapple with the enemy then rode their horses around the flanks, dismounted and engaged their opponents from the rear; Amazon style,' I grinned. It was. Amazons were all about out-maneuvering and confounding their foes. The Amazons hadn't been callous with their males' lives. At one time, chosen females had held the center line. Over time, as males joined, it was practical to adapt the solid wooden shields of their opponents for their own males and put them in the place where their upper body strength and size were of best effect. The unknown older male with Vranus had probably held his place in the battle line dozens of times. I doubt he complained, or even thought to complain. Who would have taken his place? A smaller sister, aunt, or daughter? Had other males objected? Sure, the battle line in Amazon tactics was not the place of glory. The striking arm were the horse-riders. Countless times adversaries had spent the last minutes of their lives with the echoes of horses, hooves and female Amazon war cries seemingly all around them. Some wise old dead fucker once said 'defeat starts in the mind'. I wholeheartedly believed in that; except my version was 'having sex with me starts with my insidious nature'. ‘Defeat starts in the mind,' I stared intently into Oneida's eyes. Love poetry is a matter of emotional context, not actual words. I pulled Oneida to me, letting her straddle my lap because I desperately wanted her to understand my tortured soul. Grinding her vulva against my hard-on was totally accidental, as was our renewed French kiss and me grabbing two handfuls of her ass. There was no rushing of things. Oneida was a skittish mare and I had to keep her feeling safe despite her sexual peril. Any woman who bothers to get to know me knows I am not a complicated guy. Case in point: by the time Oneida was feeding me her left nipple, Odette already had the security types sweep my bedroom (again) then the three retreated to Timothy's room and shut the door. Were Oneida's guardians worried about Oneida's carnal violation? No, why would they? Amazons had dick on demand. Virginity didn't hold any religious significance for them; killing things did. With the speed and efficiency those other two Amazons made themselves scarce, I imagined they were happy that Oneida had stopped mooning over me and getting a good grip on reality. A righteous dicking was in the offing. Oneida's open eyed, opened-mouth countenance when she found herself naked on my bed with a naked me hovering over her was precious. That look always was. It did necessitate a question. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?' I whispered. My aroused cock brushed along her thigh. The question was a courtesy. The answer was always the same because girls want to have sex. They also want to believe they have a say in the process from beginning to end. I say 'believe' because sex done right is passion and passion is the rejection of reason. At some point in the seduction, intercourse becomes an avalanche. Logic can scream all it wants; the hormones are not listening. I slipped into Oneida's velvety liquid embrace. She gave up a sigh of relief. She'd made the jump into intimacy. Any other explanation for what was going to happen would have implicated me as a 'Player'; which everyone else thought I was. Oneida had this romantic ideal of me that no amount of evidence appeared to shatter. Personally, I was starting to dread ever going to her bedroom. I wasn't sure of her 'My Little Pony' comforter would be a turn-off for me. I had done in it on Pocahontas and The Little Mermaid, so odds were I'd pull through in the clinch. ‘I am not hurting you, am I?' I moaned. Said for emotional impact alone. If I was causing a girl pain, I would have stopped first. ‘No,' happy murmuring, ‘I'm wonderful.' The most powerful organ human's possess is the brain. Oneida was a 'talker'. She wanted to express her feelings during intercourse; not give to directions, but as an effort to increase her participation in the sex act itself. Slow, steady strokes followed, withdrawing my glans half way along her labia, moved up and down slightly then gradually pushed back in. Every entry held something new for her. I added to the process by tilting her thigh and leg forward so that my next penetration tantalized a whole new series of trigger points in her cunny. On the next pass, Oneida began her own experimentations, twisting and adjusting the angle of her hips as I worked my rod in and out. Oneida began crying. I wasn't upset and that didn't make me a callous bastard. She was shedding tears of joy and regret; joy because her first climax was in the offing; regret because she wish she had done this with me sooner. She had been a Havenstone employee so we hadn't done the deed. We still had to keep our liaison secret. Why? I'd think of something. The real reason was pure politics. I never knew what wacky dame hated another wacky dame for reasons I couldn't even get into, but I knew it would curtail my dating opportunities. I'd pay the price of deception later. What I couldn't take was being denied sex without having done anything wrong first. ‘Am I making you happy?' Oneida gasped. No flippancy here; romance was the key. ‘You demand things from me few other women do,' I replied breathlessly. I wasn't going to lie to her. Prettying up the truth was good enough and it made her happy. I also got something new; to her, not to me. She orgasmed. Whatever she'd been satisfied with before, I obliterated in a few quick, decisive strokes. Oh God; did she go off! It has happened to me before; the door being kicked in; just not in mid-orgasm. Guns being pointed at yours truly while the girl was in mid-scream was new. And Oneida was still carrying on and on. ‘I was trying to tell you!' Odette was screaming. ‘He does that to us all the time; please don't shoot him.' The whole 'girl screaming at me in Old Kingdom Hittite' was also new. My mentor preferred Minoan. ‘I have come back from Death,' Oneida rasped. Her skin was flushed deep red from her exertion, she had bathed us both in sweat and she was coming up with any form of vocalization from Goddess-knows where she had screamed for so long. She looked at me with love in her eyes; damn it. She looked and looked and looked and; finally noticed the two women at the foot of the bed. ‘Is; some; thing; wrong?' Oneida panted while gazing at her two guardians with worry. ‘You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.' There was someone pounding on my apartment door. ‘Neighbor; door; I'm on it,' Odette called out. Seconds later the deadbolts clicked and the door opened. ‘Hello, Mr. Finnes.' ‘You God-damn Whore!' he screamed. ‘Where is that homo and his butt-buddy? The cops are on their way and this time you are all in the street.' He had a good head of steam on tonight. Slayer of Testicles #1 looked at Slayer of Testicles #2, nodded and left. ‘Who is this bitch,' Finnes got out. It was so wrong that I recognized the next sound. It was the barrel of a gun being inserted into a person's mouth. ‘Listen and listen carefully,' SoT#1 spoke softly. ‘You are going back to your hovel. If I get word, or even a bad premonition, that you are causing this apartment a hint of worry, I am going to come back and end you in a fashion the New York City's Coroner's Office will find memorable.' ‘I do not care if you have to puncture both eardrums to drown out the noise. I am not a compassionate person. In fact, I am considered sadistic by those who know me well. Now go back home, tell the police who show up this was all a mistake and give a prayer of thanks to whatever deity you grovel before that I didn't simply ram my firearm up your anus and decorate the ceiling in what passes for brains in your pathetic bone-sack of a body,' she menaced. There was a choking/gagging noise then the sound of heaving. ‘Mr. Finnes; are you okay?' Odette worried. As a wonderful counter-point. ‘Have you given me your seed?' Oneida asked hopefully. I was still hard. It had only been ten minutes of sex after all. I gently rocked my penis deeper in. ‘Oh,' she happily babbled. ‘Again?' SoT#2 questioned. I made a few more penetration cycles instead of speaking. ‘Do they train you in some sort of Sex Academy for this? Are there more males out there like you?' ‘Is having a viewing gallery a real damper on the mood?' I asked her while looking into Oneida's eyes. I was actually proud of Oneida for not sending the other woman away. It showed me she respected the woman's job. I also heard the apartment door shut. ‘Wow, your threat was nice and spooky,' Odette snickered. ‘Threat? Child, what do you think I do for a living?' SoT#1 asked. ‘You are one of those wacko, psycho-chicks Cáel Nyilas works with,' Odette was undoubtedly smiling. ‘Correct, I am one of those wacko, psycho-chicks;' SoT#1 left that hanging out there. ‘You weren't playing with Mr. Finnes, were you?' Odette grew quiet. Pause. ‘There is really a job which allows you to do that kind of stuff?' Pause. ‘Can I apply?' ‘This is not something you apply;' SoT#1 began, but then, ‘I guess if Cáel wants to; ‘ ‘Cool,' Odette was truly irrepressible. ‘If he does that, there will definitely be consequences and repercussions,' SoT#1 cautioned. ‘Oh, I think I had better stick with being his fuck-buddy,' Odette conceded. ‘Wise choice,' SoT#1 agreed. My bedroom door shut. SoT#2 had slipped out. Do you often have sex with an audience?' I teased Oneida. ‘Yes,' she answered matter-of-factly, ‘I do. Don't you?' ‘Now that you mention it;' and I got back to the pleasure that encompasses so much of my life. Sunday Night. ‘Cáel,' a voice purred over my phone. ‘Hey Nicole,' I greeted my lawyer not-quite a hook-up anymore. Also, unless you are Sure you know the female caller, don't take a gamble with the name. ‘So, do you have something going on tonight?' she queried. ‘Nope. My normal engagement had to cancel so I'm sitting back with some friends who do not appreciate the depth of my depravity,' I sighed. ‘Canceled?' She laughed. ‘On you? Have your recovered from the shock?' ‘Actually, they had a death in the family and had to go to South Carolina,' I explained. ‘Oh; sorry,' Nicole apologized. ‘Well, if you are feeling lonely and neglected, you could come by work and do me a favor.' ‘I am feeling neither lonely, nor neglected, but I am certainly missing you right now. Give me a half hour and I'll be there,' I promised. She thanked me and hung up. ‘Who is it this time?' Odette snickered. Man, I was becoming so used to her hanging around. ‘Nicole the lawyer,' I replied. I trekked back to my bedroom to prep. I opted for the 'Bad Boy' look; worn jeans, high-top tennis shoes (equally worn), my Plant Smashers t-shirt (Quebecois ska band; yes, I will road-trip to another country for sex) and my Bolingbrook bomber jacket. Yes, I was going to an Ivy League Law firm dressed like a carjacker. Every other male was going to be dressed in finely-tailored silk and I had to stand out. Since I couldn't outspend them, I was going to make them look like effete pussies by dressing like I just didn't care what anyone thought. I was coming over to screw Nicole and there would be no doubt about it. ‘Isn't that chick rich?' Timothy teased me. ‘Yeah. I'm packing the glow in the dark Trojans tonight; cause she's special,' I grinned. ‘Oh! I love those,' Odette squealed. She really needed to trust me less. I walked over, cupped her ears with my hand then kissed her on the forehead. I did the same to Timothy. His look suggested that I had best make a hasty exit before he kicked my ass. I caught a taxi a block away. It turned out he was from Qatar and he asked if I was sure about the address I gave him. I grinned then told him I could outrun 95% of the yPD so was feeling good about my chances. He snorted, countering with 'If you were an Arab, they'd shoot you.' Not to be outdone, 'I'd claim to be a Syrian anti-government protester; you know, because we all look alike to these Caucasians'. We laughed for a bit then he said he had a younger sister back in the homeland. I insisted I was immoral; a wicked man. 'Was I religious?' 'Only when it suited my purposes.' 'Would I consider converting to Sunni Islam?' 'Only if the girl was cute enough.' He showed me her picture; dammit, she had a really beautiful face. I got her name, his name and the name of his mosque. I considered it. Yahweh, Christ, Bacchus (wine, an orgy and 'bull' testicles; long story) and Jehovah all had reasons to barbeque my ass already. Why not add Allah to the mix, besides it being an incredibly stupid thing to do for a man in constant mortal peril like me? In theory, three of the four definitely had the possibility to be the same Omniscient and Omnipotent Galactic Being so the odds were I wouldn't get too much more screwed. I finished up my journey imagining Buffy in a burqa. That evolved into a vision of me being force-fed a burqa; in private; where no one could hear my muffled cries for help. Buffy; murdering me; made me horny. I am a sick puppy. ‘Buffy,' I called her as I paid the cabbie. ‘What; huh; are you okay, Cáel?' Buffy muttered. ‘Yes, I'm fine. I was dreaming of you and decided to give you a call,' I related in a sleepy voice. ‘Oh;' she sounded affectionate. ‘Yeah. In the dream you were murdering me. It was so romantic; so you,' I related. ‘Shit-for-brains, do you have any idea what time it is?' Buffy turned all savage in an instant. ‘Hmm; 11:45?' I offered up. ‘Call me this late again when it is not an emergency and your dream will become a reality,' she growled. ‘You know you sound so;' and she hung up on me. I called Nicole and warned her I was at her building, pursued by two FDIC investigators and could she please come and rescue me. She snickered, came down and retrieved me, but not before the yPD stopped by for a casual conversation and I hadn't even been standing there two minutes. In my neighborhood you were lucky if you saw a patrol car every thirty minutes and short of offering them some crack cocaine, cheap nookie, or shooting a gun off, they never stopped. Was I my normally fuck-wad self? No. I told the man/woman team the truth. Some upper crust weenies I worked with dragged me off to Yuppie Hell. I hooked up with a lawyer who I screwed repeatedly in the Women's bathroom and she was calling me for round 2. Second question (the first one was name/ID/reason for being in this part of town dressed like I was)? Was she paying me? 'No'. Was I practicing safe sex (female cop; married even)? 'Yes'. Was she the red-head at the door behind me? 'Yes she was and goodnight.' ‘What are you dressed like that for?' Nicole smiled. In her mind she already knew the answer; I had come here to screw her; raw and primal. ‘Ballroom dancing was not on the itinerary you gave me,' I smiled. We went inside. ‘My co-workers are still here,' she hinted seductively. ‘Whoa now!' I protested humorously. ‘I am not here to pull a train; girls only.' Nicole nearly fell over laughing. She was so embarrassed by me and my attire, she dragged me straight to the conference room 'her' team was working out of. Everyone else was eating. Two of the lawyers were clearly the top dogs; a man and a woman. The woman had a vague resemblance to one of the portraits I'd seen coming in; a legacy. The man screamed 'serial killer'. It probably made him one hell of a lawyer, but spooky to live with, or work for. The other nine people in the room were in two groups. Two were obviously paralegals. They dressed in what must have started out as clean, starched clothing from off the rack as opposed to tailored. The other seven were lawyers in their own dual set-up. My amateur guess was two different branches of law. This group was dressed in fine clothes now wrinkled from a long day's work, plus it was a Sunday. They were not at their best yet they were still better than most of what I had. The most endearing part was how they looked at me. Even the female contingent thought that I was trash. I had certainly given them the opportunity. Seriously, they should have paid more attention to Nicole, her intelligence, competence and tastes. Come on now; there was no way she'd bring some grease-monkey from Flatbush to her workplace. They needed to engage their brains and not their social bias. A murmur slithered through the crowd. Amusement and condescension were the clear messages shot my way. I imagine the poor soul who delivered the food got less crap because he/she was providing a tangible service. ‘Nicole, who is this?' the woman asked. Sex. Outside of her being a soulless cancer on the hopes and dreams of mankind, she was an alluring forty-something. ‘This is my friend Cáel;' Nicole began, both her arms wrapped around my right arm. ‘Cáel Belafonte,' I interrupted. You could tell who the trial lawyers in the room were. Their expressions told me they knew I was lying. ‘Fascinating Mr. Belafonte,' Mr. Serial-Killer droned on. ‘What do you do?' ‘I am an Ichthyologist,' I met his gaze. ‘I'm involved in a twenty year study to determine the cause for the reduction in the size of Tuna fish scales.' That had them stumped. ‘That sounds like yet another great waste of government funds,' a young male lawyer with more bravado than combat-sex experience fired off. ‘Oh,' I shrugged. ‘Smaller scales, smaller full-sized Tuna, a spike in tuna prices and an eventual world-wide restriction on Tuna fishing, similar to the one currently covering virtually all whale species. Now, I doubt you know which people will decide who the recipient of those lucrative Tuna contracts will be, but I do. By all means; mock what you don't understand.' ‘Government research project results will be in the public domain,' a woman joined the struggle. ‘Yes; and?' I asked in a bland tone. ‘Your research will be available to all kinds of commercial concerns,' male asshat grinned. ‘Your ability to show that you are as smart as any pre-law student must make someone, somewhere very proud,' I grinned back. Confused looks. Nicole was struggling to keep it together. ‘He never said he was in any manner part of the government, or a government program, Mr. Cherrie,' the female lead barracuda gave me her own hungry look. The guy looked pissed. ‘Oh, Mr. Belafonte, are you a private researcher, or a government one?' she female junior lawyer asked. ‘Heather Pulaski,' she gave her name. ‘Call me Cáel, Heather, and I am in no way associated with any government, I barely know what an Ichthyologist is and I'm certainly not one. Rude, arrogant people annoy me when they treat my friends like they are stupid; especially when they should know better. I can rarely stop myself from ridiculing them,' I grinned. ‘And now you think you are better than everyone else in the room for tricking us with this juvenile prank,' the Serial Killer sounded bored. ‘No. The lives of strangers are not my concern,' I bantered back. ‘I did what I did to make Nicole smile. If my antics remind the rest of you what a hotshot lawyer she is so much the better.' ‘Mr. and Mrs. Dyoung, Cáel, Cáel Nyilas, is a joker. He's is also brilliant and just joined Havenstone Commercial Investments in their Executive Services Division,' Nicole bragged. She got points for the 'Executive Services' part. More smirks; some people never learn. ‘Havenstone doesn't employ too many men, does it?' Mrs. Dyoung said. Maybe she was looking for a Discrimination lawsuit. ‘Five men to be precise and two of us are out of the country,' I enlightened her. ‘So you are brilliant,' Mr. Dyoung seemed barely engaged; and was Mrs. Dyoung's Mr. Dyoung. ‘What are your insights on DNA ownership, Cáel?' ‘DNA ownership is a fallacy,' I stated. ‘People are not pigs, soybeans, or corn. You cannot create a financial liability for your offspring because that amounts to slavery and is forbidden by the 14th Amendment to the Constitution. DNA is a person; their blueprint. Only the person owns it and they can't even sell it outright.' ‘That is hopelessly naive,' he snorted. ‘Not really. If you apply an accepted price tag to every human being on Earth, the anarchy will begin. Crimes like murder, torture and mutilation are based on the concept that human life has an unspecified value. Give something a value and you can trade in it.' ‘Murder somebody? How much was their DNA worth?' I postulated. ‘I pay the cost, or somebody pays it for me. You are calling me naïve? I'm not murdering somebody. I'm repossessing their DNA. Mr. Dyoung, I'm not a lawyer, so I am not approaching this from a limited field of vision like you are. I live in the World.' ‘Oddly enough, I've had some recent encounters with real slavery and that has convinced me that I'll go down standing up, thank you very much,' I grinned. ‘In case that was misconstrued; my DNA is mine, no legal precedent will change that and I'm more than willing to put bodies in the ground to keep it so.' ‘You sound like an anarchist,' Mr. Cherrie chimed in. ‘Nope. I'm independent-minded. There is a difference,' I indicated. ‘Just like you, anarchists don't want to let me be me either.' ‘Laws exist for a reason,' Nicole chastised me. What she was really saying was 'you are here for a reason and it isn't entertaining my co-workers'. ‘This is the point where the smart man goes 'yes ma'am, they do',' I nodded to her. ‘Your young man is not stupid,' Mrs. Dyoung chuckled. ‘This young man knows what happens if he behaves,' Nicole bowed to her superior; her boss, not me. ‘Oh goodie,' I rubbed my hands together. ‘Are we about to do some file-sharing?' ‘Something like that,' Nicole laughed and off we went. All I could imagine was that Nicole had to be God's Own lawyer at this firm to get away with the crap we'd just pulled. Honestly, I had other things on my mind. We coasted into her office, with her name etched on the glass door; with the glass walls and floor to ceiling glass windows. Just because, I picked up a water-smoothed stone on her desk; glass houses and all. ‘That is from the Canadian Shield; some of the oldest rocks on Earth,' she told me. ‘You are also going to have one of the most painful hard substance on Earth in your office if we don't do something soon,' I teased. ‘Where do you want to start?' she leaned against her desk. Her office was small, but it was her own. Considering her age, it was another 'she rocks' indicator. ‘Your lips,' I murmured. Nicole liked that. She pushed off the desk enough so our lips could lock. It was very nice. ‘The other lips,' I teased her. She liked that idea even more. Her black, mid-thigh skirt came up, I knelt and decided her scarlet thong was more than skimpy enough for me to work around. I let my hands run along her calves. Nicole hummed out her acclaim and was even happier when I began lifting both legs up. Before long, she was laying on her back, her legs were raised high and spread wide. Nice and easy was replaced by rapidly energetic and fiendishly cunning. Nicole was fighting back the tidal surge of her ecstasy. ‘What are you holding back for?' I slurped around my tongue-lashing. We weren't in a bathroom stall this time. Nicole tilted her head up, gave me a simmer glance then embraced her orgasm. ‘Damn!' she screamed followed by a dozen slightly less vocal 'damns'. I gave her just enough time for me to shed my pants, roll down a prophylactic then I mounted. Had there been any doubt of our forceful ardor, my heroic efforts and Nicole's dynamism shattered them. Half of the lawyers I'd briefly met stopped by and peeked through the glass. I didn't care and Nicole reveled in 'bending the minds' of the onlookers. After a while, her office was not enough. That sofa in the executive reception area? I bent her over the art deco beast and pummeled it, half way across the room. The bathroom? To be gender-equal, we screwed around in the Men's room this time. Nicole and I revisited her erotic fantasy of being bent over in the toilet, sodomized, then completing the act with dispensing of the condom and a glorious blowjob. Our last encounter involved a men's standing urinal, Nicole's legs wrapped around my waist as I gyrated. ‘Oh my God!' she yelped. ‘I've got it. Put me down.' I put her down because the reason I was here was to crack the mental block she had found herself in. Me? I'd come for the sex and Nicole delivered in spades. She had upheld her side of our bargain. Now that I'd reciprocated, it was time for 'hook-up' Nicole to become 'lawyer' Nicole. She made herself somewhat presentable and quick-stepped in back to the conference room. I secured my cock and pants before following. Nicole was babbling in an eldritch dark-tongue similar to Lady Sauron relaying doom to her pack of Nazgûl. They responded with various other arcane invocations until their agreement confirmed that millions of voices had cried out in terror then been suddenly silenced. In my universe, female devotees of Evil were all black leather-clad gorgeous sex kittens who used their dark arts to increase galactic lecherousness. ‘Time to show you out,' Nicole gave me a sultry smirk. ‘Come on.' Arm in arm, we traveled closely to the elevators. ‘Hold the door,' a female voice commanded right as the doors began to shut on the two of us. Nicole put a hand out to keep us from a few more second of alone time. A Caucasian women with short brown hair and a fierce scowl entered first. An imperious damsel came in next. My heart stopped in shock while I barely registered on her radar. A dusky man, nearly my height came in last of all. The doors shut and down we went. I was spending too much time watching the woman and her two bodyguards as we all headed to the door and not enough with Nicole. ‘Don't even think about it, Cáel,' Nicole teased. ‘That's Miss Brianna O'Shea, she leads our client's team and she's totally off limits.' O'Shea pulled a 'Katrina' the moment after Nicole used my name. She spun in place so that she was now facing Nicole and me. ‘What was your name?' she asked with sugary smoothness I associated with Bolivian tourism officials; the nice ones. You know, the ones that thought using a truck battery attached to the jumper cables and your testicles was too much because a car battery would do. ‘Percival Fenris, ma'am,' I introduced myself. ‘I'm a product engineer for Cyberdyne Systems. My team is creating a process that uses constantly recycling colored sugar dust as a medium that will replace current LCD technology. We are calling it Pixie TV.' Nicole was giggling. I was feeling less giggly, mainly because I was staring at my Mother. Not my Mother-mother; the woman who gave birth to me and who had been eaten alive by cancer. No, this was my Mother the way she looked when she was twenty-five and in excellent health. ‘Miss O'Shea, this is Cáel Nyilas. He is a good friend of mine,' Nicole cut through my obfuscation. O'Shea took several steps toward us, away from the exit. Her guardians kept up and were ratcheting up their vigilance. ‘Interesting eyes,' she noted. ‘What is your heritage?' Rude and scary. Even Nicole knew something was incredibly wrong. ‘Cáel, you two have the same eyes,' Nicole mumbled. ‘I was thinking the same thing, Miss Lawless,' Brianna said. Huh? ‘You are a lawyer named Lawless?' I gawked at Nicole. ‘How did that happen?' Why had that not registered when I went to Nicole's office? Oh yeah, her leading me in, eyes pleading for sex. ‘That is not relevant, Mr. Nyilas,' O'Shea kept coming. ‘What do you mean 'not relevant'? Are you saying you'd hire a male escort named Quick-fire Small-Penis?' I wondered. ‘If so, you are a more trusting soul than I.' ‘Why are you avoiding my question?' Brianna queried. ‘Why are you asking questions I clearly don't want to answer?' I retorted. ‘Cáel, please don't antagonize my client's representative,' Nicole was playful yet concerned. ‘No problem Nicole Lawless, Attorney at Law,' I grinned to her. I gave her a secretive ass squeeze then made to leave. Miraculously, Brianna let me slip by. The deceptiveness of that kindness was revealed when I stepped outside and found the limo; with another bodyguard standing beside the front passenger door. O'Shea/Mom's double was hot on my heels. As I turned and headed up the street, she grabbed my right arm. ‘Why don't we go out for a late bite to eat,' she stated. I wasn't being invited. I was being told. ‘No can do,' I shrugged off her hand. ‘I promised my Father to leave a recognizable corpse.' ‘What makes you think I have sinister intentions?' she questioned. There was a lot of that going around; not answering stuff, that is. ‘Why do you assume you aren't giving off the same bad vibe as a half-dozen 18th Street gangbangers on a Meth binge?' I teased. Brianna made a hand signal and the three bruisers put their hands on their guns. The closest to me moved around me to block off that escape route. To be correct, the guy at the car door was African-American, around my height with maybe 10 kg on me. The two guarding O'Shea were a guy of Moorish decent and a woman of the English Midlands. I knew this because I was afraid and making shit up. ‘Was I supposed to be impressed with the quiet appeal of desperation you exhibited by playing patty-cake with yourself,' I kept smiling. ‘Or are these three supposed to scare me?' I chuckled. ‘Here; in downtown Manhattan; one of the few places on the planet Earth trying to rival London in video surveillance.' ‘Video evidence can be altered,' Brianna gave me a wicked gleam. ‘Was that supposed to be your Evil Henchwoman voice?' I kept snickering. ‘If so, get a refund from that mail-order firm you took lessons from,' I grinned. ‘You appear to be rather fearless, and obstinate,' O'Shea nodded. ‘Foolishly so.' ‘Lady, I'm staring into the face of my dead Mother who is trying to get me into a limo with three goombahs who think they are intimidating. They are not,' I pointed out. ‘This whole weekend has been a disaster, so me beating the crap out of those three, you and the driver isn't going to change a damn thing,' I enlightened them. The Moorish guy extended a collapsible cane. ‘You seem very confident,' she informed me. ‘Of course I am,' I stated. ‘You haven't spotted my bodyguard yet, meaning all of you are truly screwed.' ‘Why would you have a bodyguard?' she inquired. ‘Why would you want to know?' I countered. ‘Do you practice being irritating, or is an innate talent?' Brianna regarded me. ‘We can do this 'answering a question with a question' thing all night long, except I have to be at work at six a.m. so how about you tell me what you really want to know and tell me why you look like; screw that; are my Mother's clone,' I sighed. ‘Tell me about your genetic heritage,' O'Shea demanded. She was that kind of authoritative prick; actual penis not required. ‘I apologize. I don't seem to have a handle your native vocabulary and your English-as-a-Second Language skills suck,' I sneered. ‘I should go home now.' Moorish guy blocked my egress. English chick was on my right flank, back to the limo and the street. The most pressing issue was a matter of privilege; O'Shea's people thought they'd get away with breaking the law. The moment the Moor popped out is baton, it was 'on'. A baton is a weapon plus O'Shea and her bodyguard were blocking my exit. I was legally free to attack him now. Normally I was lawfully compelled to exit the scene as opposed to engaging in violence. Since I couldn't run away, I was allowed to kick his ass; and O'Shea and company didn't give a crap. I worked five-plus days a week with people like that. The wavy-red haired, emerald green-eyed O'Shea wasn't the daughter of some Mafioso, or Nigerian Warlord. I didn't know what she was, but she was the many opposites of good news. ‘I imagine you think I didn't notice that Taser,' I addressed the Englishwoman while getting in the Moor's face. ‘That is an unfortunate miscalculation on your part.' ‘See, your dumbass partner, with his wonderful 80 cm tool, has let me get inside his reach. Before he can bring it to bear, I'm going to crush it trachea,' I outlined. ‘Now I have his tool and the whole reach thing is working in reverse. You have a hand-held device with a 10 cm reach and I have one that is 80 cm and the distance to make effective use of it.' ‘Don't worry about the guy at the door. By the time I face you, my bodyguard will lethally wound Miss O'Shea there. In case you missed it, now you are all screwed because your job is to guard her, not suppress me; and you all just failed,' I kept the Moor's eye contact. ‘While this horror crosses your mind, I'll break your hand.' ‘Your buddy isn't coming to help you. He's running to Miss O'Shea because he's supposed to keep her alive and that takes all his time and concentration. You poor driver will get out and, not yet having his situational awareness, my bodyguard will neutralize him. About the same time, I will crack your skull open. This allows me to decide whether, or not to kill Miss O'Shea,' I concluded. All of that was an utter and complete fantasy. Collapsible batons; I'd seen them in a few movies. Tasers? I have been tazed and never, ever want to repeat the process; three separate incidences was enough for me. Did I have a bodyguard close by? I had not asked for one and Havenstone had the sad habit of not telling me a damn thing that concerned my personal survival. On the plus side, I could be a compelling actor, or successful conman. I'm not an actor by the grace of two little words; sex scandal. If I sleep with a girl I want it to be because I've tricked and deceived her, not because she wants to tape us then sell it to the media. That would make me feel degraded; cheapened even. I'm not a conman because they use seduction to get what they want. For me, the seduction IS what I want. Steal their money? That would imply I would never, ever be able to sleep with them again. I couldn't do that and remain true to myself. To prove my point, the Moor looked past me to O'Shea for instructions. I punched him in his Solar Plexus and took his toy as I shoved his breathless form to the sidewalk. The Englishwoman expected me to attack her, just like I'd told her I would. It took her a second to realize I'd played her. By then it was too late. I could flee up the street if I wanted. ‘You attacked my man,' O'Shea noted casually. ‘Well, your ears are dicey, but your eyes are spot-on,' I snorted. ‘Shoot him,' O'Shea was decided to wrap this up. I was ceasing to be amusing. ‘In the legs.' Out came the guns and down went my likelihood of getting out of this intact. Pamela walked out of the building we'd exited a minute ago. She was wearing tight black stretch pants, a red turtleneck and a short beige jacket. ‘Protocols,' Pamela invoked in a bored voice. ‘Define,' O'Shea demanded. ‘Cáel,' Pamela kept her gaze on O'Shea, ‘who do you work for?' ‘Havenstone,' I answered. O'Shea looked from Pamela to me. ‘This does not protect a simple employee,' O'Shea stated. ‘I am invoking the Protocols. This does not require me to explain things to you,' Pamela was cool and relaxed. ‘By all means, if you feel I am abusing the Truce, kick it upstairs and it will be adjudicated.' ‘What is your name?' Brianna O'Shea requested of Pamela. ‘Cáel Nyilas. That is all you need to know,' Pamela smirked. ‘That is not possible,' Brianna gained her own barracuda grin. ‘He is Illuminati business. Look at his eyes.' Pamela laughed. The WHO? Weren't they some kind of Freemasons? ‘He walks away right now unless you explain yourself. He is at Havenstone. Whatever relationship he possessed with the Illuminati ceased when he was hired,' Pamela informed her. ‘Cáel Nyilas, tell me about your Mother,' Brianna commanded. ‘No,' I shrugged. ‘It is a simple enough question,' Miss O'Shea persisted. ‘And it is simply none of your business,' I held my ground. ‘I am her sister,' O'Shea declared. Pamela snorted but otherwise kept silent. ‘Ugh; that was not what I wanted to hear,' I groaned. Pamela snickered. She knew where my mind was. ‘Why should I believe you?' ‘You had your genetic sequence analyzed Thursday, didn't you?' O'Shea said. ‘That was flagged by people working for me because you and I share half of the same DNA.' ‘That's not possible,' Pamela stated in the same way she knew I was a cosmic joke. ‘How is that not possible?' I looked to Pamela. I was really starting to accept me and Homicidal O'Shea were family. Why? I'd never had to confront the incest taboo before and here it was looking right at me. O'Shea looked to Pamela, to me, back to Pamela then finally back at me. ‘Do you have a single clue about what is going on?' Brianna addressed me. ‘Yeah, of course I do,' I lied. ‘You are with the Illuminati and you know Havenstone is more than a bunch of greedy bitches.' Pause. ‘So you know nothing about what is going on here, right at this moment,' O'Shea's eyes skewered me. Sigh. ‘Mom; your sister, is dead;' I got out. ‘Yes, she died seven years ago,' Brianna interrupted. ‘What?' I glared. ‘No, she died fifteen years ago. Where do you get your information from and why didn't you at least check out the fucking gravestone?' I snapped. ‘Fifteen; that doesn't make sense; I didn't know where she died, only that when her medication ran out, she would have been consumed by some kind of aggressive cancer,' O'Shea responded. ‘What;' sort of slipped out. ‘How many brothers and sisters do you have?' O'Shea probed. ‘Like I'd tell you,' I growled. ‘None,' Pamela stated. ‘Thanks,' I glared at Pam. ‘Why don't you give away all my bargaining chips?' ‘Cáel, they know your last name,' Pamela stated. ‘Do you want them to hunt down your father and torture him for the names and locations of any other children?' ‘If you go after my Dad;' I became aggressive. ‘You will do nothing,' Pamela interrupted. ‘He is not covered by the Truce.' ‘A Truce I know nothing about,' I grumbled. ‘Screw all of you.' ‘Don't sweat it, Cáel. They need you and I can prove it with two honestly answered question,' Pamela smirked. ‘What name are you using today?' to Brianna. ‘Brianna O'Shea,' the red-haired lady replied. ‘How quaint; your real name. Brianna, how many other nieces and nephews do you and your sisters have?' Pamela inquired. Brianna glared. ‘I'll answer that for her; none. That begs the question of why you,' Pamela smiled at me, ‘exist at all. I'm sure that come Monday morning every medic at Havenstone is going to be crawling all over you looking for that answer.' O'Shea had a new game plan. She was going to murder Pamela and kidnap me. This meant I was going to get screwed up; maybe killed. Pamela would kill everyone else and sex would be extra painful for the next week to ten days; I was tired of that crap. I dropped the baton and walked up to Brianna. The bodyguards were twitching, Brianna was calculating multiple variables and Pamela looked mildly amused. I hugged Brianna. ‘If we are family then we are family,' I explained. ‘If there is something you want to talk to me about, give me a call. I'm in the book and I'm sure Havenstone can patch you through if you want to get in touch with me at work.' Pamela was struggling to contain her mirth. ‘Can you keep this discussion under wraps for now?' Brianna requested. The likelihood of that happening must have showed in my eyes. ‘Okay, who do you work for?' Pamela was laughing into her hand. ‘Umm; I work for Katrina Love of Executive Services,' I answered. O'Shea almost had an embolism. ‘It is okay, my desk is in her office, so we are pretty close.' Not at all what she wanted to hear. ‘Okay, I'll stop teasing you. I know who Katrina is and what she does; basically making people like you have believably fatal accidents.' ‘You are a man? Why are you still walking around free?' O'Shea muttered. ‘His sexual dynamism supersedes the sublimely addictive,' Pamela enlightened O'Shea, ‘and if you don't believe me, go up and ask that 'Nicole Lawless' woman.' ‘I was going to say 'I look great in hose and a push-up bra', but that works too,' I muttered. And the last thing I wanted to envision at that reality-cracking moment happened. Brianna O'Shea looked me over and that look said 'Sex'. She was my aunt! Technically; somehow; that should matter, right? ‘Aunt Brianna; Brianna; Auntie O'Shea; what do you want me to call you?' I stammered. ‘Brianna will do,' she pulled those plush red lips into a grin and extended her hand. I shook it. She had a strong grip. She was tapping the pulse in my wrist with her forefinger; a tried and true arousal technique I'd used countless times. ‘I'm really happy that we are family;' I evaded. ‘I had regular sex with mine and your mother's father, your grandfather,' Brianna discussed with the outrage normally reserved for the 'do you want your cantaloupe in wedges, or scoops' debate. ‘My; we'll just toss that in the category of things I never wanted to know,' I coughed. Wait! I could do better than that. This deserved sympathy, not comedy. ‘I am glad you got that off your chest,' I stroked her hand back; okay, not my brightest idea. ‘Has Grandpa stopped doing that?' ‘Your Grandfather is dead,' Brianna delivered the bad news. It was doubly bad because she seemed to really miss the jack-ass. At least I didn't have to feign grief at the bastard's funeral. This also would explain why Mom ran away from home and told Dad and I that her family all perished in a freak Sperm Whale hunting accident in the Arctic. You know, that sounded much more believable when I was five. Dad was crazy in love, which explained his suspension of disbelief whenever she walked in the room. ‘He was assassinated in his study in our mountain home, his throat slit clean through and his body desecrated beyond our ability to resurrect him,' Brianna shed a tear. This was the point where I seriously began worrying about there being a natural gas leak that was either screwing up what I was hearing, or what other people were saying. ‘Wow; how sad,' I tried to sound shaken by the news. ‘I know,' Brianna hugged me. But wait, ‘You smell like him (deep, sensual purr); Dad, that is.' Oh God No! ‘Well with Granddad gone, you seem to have done well for yourself; lves,' I corrected. It sounded like I had aunts in the plural, I was praying for the positive, plus a quick exit. ‘No, we can't move on until we find the assassin,' Brianna told me. She added in a whisper, ‘We know she was an Amazon.' Ah, look, an invitation by my freakish, incestuous aunt to betray the insane fanatics I worked for. I began crying. ‘I understand,' Brianna reached around and patted my back, ‘This must be a lot for you to take in.' ‘You have no idea,' I sniffled. What was my mind was saying: 'By the way, Aunt Brianna, the wacked-out chick that offed Granddad is two meters away from you and you definitely didn't bring a big enough army to deal with her'. ‘Why don't you come home with me tonight?' Brianna offered somewhat plaintively. Sex; worse, I wasn't coming up with any really convincing reasons to not have sex with her. We would do it with the lights off. That way I wouldn't be looking into the face of the Mother of my youth having an orgasm impaled on me. Maybe dim lighting would be okay too. ‘I can't go home with you tonight,' I looked away. ‘I'm feeling vulnerable.' That was exactly why she wanted to take me home with her; confused and vulnerable would allow her to revisit her nostalgic Father-Daughter fornications. ‘You need someone who loves you to look after you,' Brianna prodded. ‘That's what I'm for,' Pamela came to my rescue. Glares and snippets of wrath ensued. In the end, Pamela and I made our getaway. A few blocks away; I didn't want a taxi yet; Pamela speaking voided my introspection. ‘Questions?' ‘Where were you hiding while Nicole and I were having sex?' I mused. ‘Which time?' Pamela taunted me. ‘You mean you followed us to the Men's bathroom (we were reliving our first sexual encounter and then some)?' I groused. ‘I am not saying I was there. I'm not saying I wasn't. I'm not saying,' Pamela smirked. Pause. ‘You killed Grandpa?' I asked. ‘Yes.' ‘You stole his soul?' ‘Yes.' ‘You took yourself to the cliffs to destroy his soul; and yours?' ‘Yes.' ‘You decided not to because of his curse/warning?' ‘No.' ‘Um; why didn't you kill yourself?' ‘He; your Grandfather; had a back-up plan. Having me kill myself was a ploy. Had I done it, I would have lost my soul, his soul would have been released and Havenstone would have thought him dead. At the last moment I gained the insight he had a body already prepared for him that no other person knew about,' Pamela informed me. ‘You.' ‘My Mother didn't know?' I worried. ‘I am not sure. Most likely she thought she had escaped the Old Bastard.' ‘Ugh; family life around Christmas must have been a blast,' I grumbled. ‘The Illuminati make a mockery of the Cult of Christ. They have influenced the Catholic hierarchy for a millennia.' ‘How did she get away; if she got away?' I muttered. ‘Your Mother and Aunts were born to be slaves, but contained nearly all the DNA of your Grandfather; essentially female 'hims'. That meant they are all very, very smart so your Mother figured out a way and fled. Somehow she found your Father and happiness.' ‘He let her get away, didn't he?' I asked. ‘Don't sell your Mother short,' Pamela chided me. ‘He most likely engineered her escape from his estate, but the rest was her. Otherwise, you would have had Illuminati watchers all this time. No, your Grandfather wanted her to be completely free of the Illuminati, and all the other secret orders, until he was ready to make his return.' ‘Why did Brianna think Mom died of cancer seven years ago?' I went for next. ‘All your aunts need medication to keep them healthy and young,' Pamela related. ‘The only one with the formula was your Grandfather and, after so many decades, those bitches have to be running out of it soon, if they haven't already exhausted their supply.' ‘Without the drugs, your Mother would have aged and developed various cancers that would have escalated in their aggression until she died. For some reason, she stopped taking her medications before they ran out,' Pamela ruminated. ‘To have me,' I lowered my head. Mom had died because she knew Dad wanted a child; me. ‘It is not impossible that she couldn't have a child while on the regimen. That sounds like something that bastard Cáel O'Shea would have done,' Pamela agreed. ‘What?' I gulped. ‘You were named after your maternal grandfather, who I studied for weeks, and I can tell you that Cáel Nyilas is a hundred times the person he ever was,' Pamela assured me. ‘Let's not tell my aunt that,' I grunted. ‘Don't worry about that,' Pamela patted me on the back. ‘All of your aunts are most likely addicted to his pheromones and you have some variant of them.' ‘The fuck you say!' I gawked. ‘Oh yeah. He was that kind of son of a bitch.' ‘So when I get scared, they get horny?' I despaired. ‘Or if you are your regular horny self,' Pamela chortled. ‘Hell, Brianna is probably humping that urinal you and Miss Lawless engaged as a; prop earlier this evening.' ‘You are just a cornucopia of horrific knowledge, aren't you?' I groused. ‘I've never had a friend like you,' Pamela enlightened me. ‘You've never had a friend before,' I countered. I hadn't known her a week and I already wanted to kill her half the time as it was. I wondered if women felt the same way about me on occasion. ‘That would definitely make you my finest friend then,' she snickered. ‘Thanks,' I grumbled. ‘Just for that, when I have Daphne bent over with her head and shoulders pressed against the wall while I slam her from behind with all this pent up rage, I'll be thinking of you.' ‘Really?' she queried. ‘Of course not. Daphne is smoking hot. When I finally have sex with her, the only thing I'll be thinking about besides Daphne is how I'm going to have sex with her again,' I grinned. ‘Good,' she smiled happily. Yes, we were talking about me boinking her granddaughter and she was A-Okay with it. ‘Remember, there is no need to use a condom.' ‘I'm not falling for that, you evil witch
Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..
It seems in today's world pronouns have come into great controversy, but in simplest level when I'm talking about myself me, I use a word I, me, my. If I'm talking about somebody who's not in my presence I will usually use he or she. So for instance if somebody's not in my presence I go he's a nice young man or she's going to graduate college. I'm talking about somebody who's not present but I'm referencing them. We're going to take a look today at Psalm 23 verse 4 that has a very significant change in what happens. The Psalmist says in the beginning, "The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul. He guides me the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." But now the Psalmist is going to change and talk about two things that are very significant related to fear that most people have that's going to come across in all of our lives. So see what the two things that the Psalmist talks about that gives us comfort at afraid of? Sermon Notes Psalm 23:4a Moving through the valley of the shadow of death Psalm 107:10 – 16 God saves from the shadow of death John 3:16 Whoever believes will not perish but have eternal life John 11:25 & 26 Jesus is the resurrection and the life 1 Corinthians 15:50 – 57 Death is defeated and we have the victory through Christ Job 19:23 – 27 My eyes shall see my Redeemer Psalm 23:4b Do not fear harm/evil because YOU God are with me Romans 8:35 – 39 Nothing not even death separates us from God Psalm 23::4c Both God's rod and staff comfort Micah 7:14 May He shepherd His people with His scepter
"I am in awe of You God. Looking around at all You've created and seeing birds flying around and hearing them cry out to You is overwhelming in the best way possible." In today's episode, I will discuss what it means to be in awe of God. I will be pairing it with a story and some scripture. Enjoy! This episode's show notes: https://www.faithfuelsmyfire.com/post/what-it-means-to-be-in-awe-of-god If you do want to donate to help me go on the mission trip there are specific things that you will want to do whenever you click on that link to make sure that they know that you're supporting me as the missionary. So I'm going to tell you exactly what to do. If you want to click on that link and donate whatever you can. So you're going to go on the website: https://globalventures.tv/give and then you want to make sure you click on where it says "support a missionary." Once you do that, you'll put in however much you want to donate. Then in the "memo" portion of it, make sure that you type in my name so they know that it is for me, my name is Lorena Espy. If you want to check out previous Bible studies, click here To Purchase my "Christ Transforms Me" Journal, click here Email me: faithfuelsmyfire@gmail.com Facebook Community: https://www.facebook.com/groups/486483515603028/ YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCmBsSKktGU_8WHVNIxhFuzg The Bible App that I use: http://bible.com/app Instagram: @_lorenacamille_ Never Forget to Choose Faith Over Fear, -Lorena Camille
I pray the Lord blesses you with this two-minute prayer on the Full Armor of God. Thanks be to You God, in giving Your people victory through Christ Jesus the Lord. Victory over sin, death, and the devil. You command us to be strong in the might of Your strength by putting on the full armor of God. I put on Your Belt of Truth. Thank You, Lord, that Your Word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path protecting me from the enemy's lies. I put on Your Breastplate of Righteousness. Thank You, Lord for Your righteousness that guards my heart. You enable me to submit to Your will for Your glory, having protected me under the shed blood of Jesus Christ. I put Your Shoes of Peace on to walk into enemy territory as Your ambassador of reconciliation, ready to share the good news of Christ with those in captivity under Satan's rule. I take up Your Shield of Faith to victoriously come against Satan's fiery darts to fear. I will stand firm, trusting in Your faithfulness, Your goodness, Your Word, and Sovereign plans. You promise to never leave us, never to abandon us (Heb 13:5) I put on Your Helmet of Salvation that has delivered your people from oppression. You have enabled me, Lord, to discern good from evil as I put Your Word to practice. I take Your Sword of the Spirit to fight and defend me. Your Word is active and alive - sharper than a double-edged sword exposing and defeating Satan's attempts to steal, kill, and destroy. By Faith, I have put on the full armor of God enabling me to live this day resisting the devil's temptations to sin by standing firmly submitted to You King Jesus, to whom the victory and glory belongs. Thank You God of Peace for Your promise to one day crush Satan under our feet. Amen.
Thankful For God's Mad Schemes (Tribute to Bad Dreams by Teddy Swims) *showcased photo of my wonderful Mom; thankful for her beautiful, radiant love & for her sweet Holy Spirit that continually sustains her when life hurts❤️
Episode 66 What is man that You [God] are mindful of him? Tune in to learn more about what it means to be made in God's image and to fulfill the command to multiply and subdue the earth. Find our videocast here: https://youtu.be/-xutpkhW-UQ Music from #Uppbeat (free for Creators!): https://uppbeat.io/t/reakt-music/deep-stone License code: 2QZOZ2YHZ5UTE7C8 Find more Take 2 Theology content at https://take2pod.wordpress.com
Are you feeling invisible or unvalued in your relationships? Or perhaps, without realizing it, are you creating an environment where others feel unseen? In this episode of the "I Feel Loved When..." @soulanchoring podcast, we reflect on a powerful lesson from a social experiment involving world-renowned violinist Joshua Bell (as shared by No One Knows What They're Doing (@nooneknows.show) with Erin McGoff (@advicewitherin) interviewing Ryan Stygar (@attorneyryan)). When Bell played in a busy Washington DC subway, almost no one noticed him, despite his extraordinary talent. It's a stark reminder that even the most gifted among us can go unnoticed if we're in the wrong environment. We explore how to discern when you're in the wrong environment and what it means to create a space where love, value, and humility thrive. From Psalm 139:13-14, we recall that "You (God) created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well." We discuss the importance of properly valuing ourselves and others, as God values us. True humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less (C.S. Lewis), allowing space for God's love to flow freely through you and into your relationships. Tune in to discover how to build an environment where you and those around you are seen, valued, and loved as God intended. Let's walk in the truth that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, and extend that same truth to others.
GOD: An Autobiography, As Told to a Philosopher - The Podcast, S1
Questions? Comments? Text Us!Have you ever wondered how there can be one God and so many different religions? Join Scott Langdon and Dr. Jerry L. Martin as they explore this intriguing question many have pondered.Scott and Jerry discuss the problem of the diversity of revelations and explore the manifestations of God across different cultures and religions as complementary rather than contradictory. Drawing from Jerry's enlightening book, God: An Autobiography, As Told to a Philosopher, Scott and Jerry explore the richness of God's nature, mirroring the diverse ways we understand ourselves.Scott and Jerry explore the frustrations of being misunderstood and relate these experiences to common misconceptions about God's nature while embracing the multifaceted essence of God.Discover how our actions towards others reflect God's presence in our lives and explore the idea of a more anthropomorphic God who actively engages in our lives. This episode is made for today's interconnected world!Follow along with future episodes and get your copy of God: An Autobiography, As Told to a Philosopher here.Relevant Episodes:[What's On Your Mind] Fierce Faith[Life Wisdom Project] Faith and Identity | Special Guest: Dr. Mikhail Sergeev[Special Episode] Revisiting God Explains How All Religions Exist[From God to Jerry to You] God, How Did You Manage To Find Me?Other Series:The podcast began with the Dramatic Adaptation of the book and now has several series:Life Wisdom Project: How to live a wiser, happier, and more meaningful life with special guests.From God To Jerry To You: Calling for the attention of spiritual seekers everywhere, featuring breakthroughs, pathways, and illuminations.Two Philosophers Wrestle With God: Sit in on a dialogue between philosophers about God and the questions we all have.What's On Our Mind- Connect the dots with Jerry and Scott over the most recent series of episodes.What's On Your Mind: What are readers and listeners saying? What is God saying?Resources:READ: “Suffering is the Test of Humanity”YOUTUBE CHANNEL: NEW VIDEOS#whatsonourmind #godanautobiography #experiencegodWould you like to be featured on the show or have questions about spirituality or divine communication? Share Your Story | Site | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | YouTube
"Balance serious academics with play and exploration to keep learning enjoyable." ~ Cindy West Watch this full interview on our YouTube Channel. In this insightful edition of our Homeschooling Through the Years Series, Cindy West joins Yvette Hampton to delve into the complexities of homeschooling during the middle school years. Discover how to balance serious academics with play and exploration, while allowing your child the independence they crave. Cindy shares her unique approach to unit studies and gives practical advice on nurturing passions and making learning enjoyable. Learn the importance of setting expectations and involving your children in their education for a tailored, stress-free learning experience. Don't miss out on Cindy's expert advice for homeschooling middle schoolers!" Middle school is a time for kids to assert independence and explore their passions." Has the Schoolhouse Rocked Podcast been a blessing to you? Support from our listeners allows us provide resources, support, and encouragement to homeschooling families around the world. Would you please consider a year-end gift to support the Schoolhouse Rocked ministry? Recommended Resources: Podcast Note-Taking Guide Gameschooling! Cindy West on the Schoolhouse Rocked Podcast Nature Schooling - Cindy West on the Schoolhouse Rocked Podcast Cindy's The Magical Marvelous Years of Middle School (Video Training Course) Good Pictures Bad Pictures: Porn-Proofing Today's Young Kids, by Kristen A. Jensen, MA The Fallacy Detective, by Nathaniel Bluedorn and Hans Bluedorn Facing the Facts: The Truth about Sex and You (God's Design for Sex), by Stan Jones and Brenna Jones Sequence Board Game Recommended Middle School Curriculum: Apologia Science BJU Press Homeschool CTCMath
"Parents should listen without judgment to foster open conversations with their kids." ~ Cindy West Watch this full interview on our YouTube Channel. Join Yvette Hampton and special guest Cindy West on this compelling episode of our Homeschooling Through the Years Series, as they dive into the challenges of parenting middle schoolers. Learn how to encourage your child's talents, navigate awkward friendships, and maintain open, non-judgmental communication about important topics, like personal hygiene, puberty, academics, and social media. Discover practical strategies for teaching kids about godly friendships, addressing hormonal changes, and fostering social skills. Don't miss out on Cindy's expert advice for homeschooling middle schoolers! Come back tomorrow for the rest of this conversation. Has the Schoolhouse Rocked Podcast been a blessing to you? Support from our listeners allows us provide resources, support, and encouragement to homeschooling families around the world. Would you please consider a year-end gift to support the Schoolhouse Rocked ministry? Recommended Resources: Podcast Note-Taking Guide Gameschooling! Cindy West on the Schoolhouse Rocked Podcast Nature Schooling - Cindy West on the Schoolhouse Rocked Podcast Cindy's The Magical Marvelous Years of Middle School (Video Training Course) Good Pictures Bad Pictures: Porn-Proofing Today's Young Kids, by Kristen A. Jensen, MA The Fallacy Detective, by Nathaniel Bluedorn and Hans Bluedorn Facing the Facts: The Truth about Sex and You (God's Design for Sex), by Stan Jones and Brenna Jones Sequence Board Game Recommended Middle School Curriculum: Apologia Science BJU Press Homeschool CTCMath
"Talk openly and proactively about challenging topics to prepare your kids for the world." ~ Cindy West Watch this full interview on our YouTube Channel. Cindy West joins Yvette Hampton for a deep dive into middle school for our Homeschooling Through the Years Series. In this episode, Cindy and Yvette discuss these crucial and challenging times filled with hormones, growth spurts, and awkward moments. Cindy shares her experiences and insights from homeschooling her own kids and offers invaluable advice on how to navigate these years with grace and joy. We also touch on topics like game schooling, nature studies, and creating a joyful learning environment. Come back Wednesday and Thursday for the rest of this conversation. Has the Schoolhouse Rocked Podcast been a blessing to you? Support from our listeners allows us provide resources, support, and encouragement to homeschooling families around the world. Would you please consider a year-end gift to support the Schoolhouse Rocked ministry? Recommended Resources: Podcast Note-Taking Guide Gameschooling! Cindy West on the Schoolhouse Rocked Podcast Nature Schooling - Cindy West on the Schoolhouse Rocked Podcast Cindy's The Magical Marvelous Years of Middle School (Video Training Course) Good Pictures Bad Pictures: Porn-Proofing Today's Young Kids, by Kristen A. Jensen, MA The Fallacy Detective, by Nathaniel Bluedorn and Hans Bluedorn Facing the Facts: The Truth about Sex and You (God's Design for Sex), by Stan Jones and Brenna Jones Sequence Board Game Recommended Middle School Curriculum: Apologia Science BJU Press Homeschool CTCMath
Have you ever felt like an underdog? Like you are operating at a disadvantage? If so . . . welcome to the club! The Bible is full of people who felt they were underdogs. In today's episode, John and Jim unpack an encouraging idea: You + God is a winning combination!
Our friend Kevin Roth tells us his life long question who are You God? He got the answer we won't understand. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/fernando-montes-de-oca/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/fernando-montes-de-oca/support
I always thought that a hurricane's job was to sweep or churn the ocean depts, more will be revealed with our Friend Kevin Roth explanations of Who are You God? --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/fernando-m-de-oca/support
The Sixth Sunday of Easter ORISON: ‘Beloved, let us love one another' from In Praise of Singing – Alice Parker (1925-2023) PSALM 67 – Patricia Van Ness (b. 1951) HYMN: For the beauty of the earth (Tune: LUCERNA LAUDONIAE) – David Evans (1874-1948) NUNC DIMITTIS – Plainsong setting, Tone V.1 ANTHEM: i thank You God […]
Meditations on the Beauty of You… God loved us long before the cross. He didn't need blood to accept us. He came because he had been celebrating us all along! ~Join Matt & Katie for some God adventures in 2024! The 11 week, 4 country, Kainos Experience! Email: experiencekainos@gmail.com for full details. ~ Want to go deeper in this kind of revelation? Check out our Glory Foundations Class at: www.gloryfoundationsclass.com Order Matt's book 'High On God' at our website: www.thefirehouseprojects.com Been blessed by this ministry? Partner with us financially to spread this GOOD NEWS! Click here TO DONATE: www.thefirehouseprojects.com/donate
There is a prayer for more in Isaiah 64, that contains the statement, "We are the clay. You (God) are the potter; we are all the work of your hand." We are the clay. You are the potter. We are all the work of your hand. That's full-on, all-in 100% surrender. This is not really a God bless me, God protect me, God help and heal me, give me comfort and prosperity kind of prayer. It's more of a God search me, God break me, God change me kind of prayer. Refine me. Shape me. Mold me. I surrender.The picture of the Father as potter and his people as the clay breaks Isaiah's prayer wide-open. It's the New Testament leaking into the Old Testament. It's relationship. Rather than God bursting forth, God is invited in. Rather than nations tremblingand mountains quaking Father Potter is shaping my heart. Listen, do you know that the fingerprints of Father Potter are all over you? And sometimes it hurts, he pushes and prods and digs his fingers into the recesses of our lives...but...He Is shaping you for a purpose, a good, a good purpose.
Today, Karen and I are talking about how to have peace throughout the holiday season. Tune in as we discuss: How to keep your mind on God during stressful times. When God's peace is available to us. Living above your circumstances to find wholeness. “You (God) will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You” (Isaiah 26:3 NKJV) Today's episode is brought to you by Living Kingdom Ministries. Learn more about their exciting evangelism course at https://www.livingkingdomministries.org
Today, Karen and I are talking about how to have peace throughout the holiday season. Tune in as we discuss: • How to keep your mind on God during stressful times. • When God's peace is available to us. • Living above your circumstances to find wholeness. “You (God) will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You” (Isaiah 26:3 NKJV) Today's episode is brought to you by Living Kingdom Ministries. Learn more about their exciting evangelism course at https://www.livingkingdomministries.org
A new MP3 sermon from First Byron CRC is now available on SermonAudio with the following details: Title: Grace to You: God and Government Subtitle: Grace to You Speaker: Dr. David P Murray Broadcaster: First Byron CRC Event: Sunday - PM Date: 11/19/2023 Bible: Romans 13:1-7 Length: 32 min.
In This Episode, We Get Tactical About: Working with Veterans and First Responders Overcoming Childhood and Family Trauma Sports and Healing Faith and Military/Policing What Does Mighty Oaks Foundation Do? Staying in the Word, Staying in Prayer, Staying in Church and Reaching out to a Corner Man Sharing Doesn't Make You Weak The Lies Cops Tell Themselves Two People Will Never Give up on You - God and Satan The Current State of Law Enforcement and Peer Support The Suicide Crisis in CBP and USBP Having a Positive Impact on Police Finding the Right Corner Men Remembering “I Am Second” Not Alone is a Game Changer Knowing When to Cut Off the Wrong Friends Being Accountable and Willing to Share If You Don't Have the Failure, You Don't Have the Hero Arc Resources + Links: Connect with Kristofor on Instagram | @team_healey Connect with Kristofor on Substack | https://kristoforhealey.substack.com Join us for The Weekend: Bourbon Trail in Lexington, Kentucky September 29-October 2, 2023 | https://www.theweekendbourbontrail.com/ How can Kristofor help you become an indispensable man? https://linktr.ee/krhealey Download a FREE COPY of Indispensable: A Tactical Plan for the Modern Man Buy your copy of the book, here! Shoot us a message on Instagram with your biggest takeaway @team_healey Show Notes: John Davis works for Mighty Oaks Foundation. Mighty Oaks Foundation is a faith based non-profit that works with Military, First Responders and their spouses. As a former Sergeant in the US Army 82nd Airborne John was a forward observer in the 319th Artillery Battalion. John was attached to the 3/504th Infantry Battalion for Operation Just Cause in Panama in 1989 and 1/17th Cavalry Division Scouts in Iraq as a Ground Laser Team Leader for Operation Desert Shield / Operation Desert Storm in 1991. After honorably discharging from the US Army in 1993 he joined the Orange County, California Sheriff's Department where he worked in the county jail. In 1994 he transferred to Whittier Police Department where he worked as a Patrol Officer and as a member of the Special Occurrence Response Team and Entry Team. After being in three justified officer involved shootings John was medically retired in 2004. After retiring from law enforcement John became a high school football, track and strength coach. John and his wife Quennie have 8 children and 5 grandchildren. Outside of Mighty Oaks Foundation, John and Quennie own a Carlson Gracie Jiu Jitsu Academy in Magnolia, Texas where John is the head coach. You can get a copy of John's book “Man on the Roof” on Amazon and learn more about his amazing story and journey of faith. You can connect with him online at: www.mightyoaksprograms.org @coachdaviscombatstrength @carlsongracie_magnolia Until Friday… Out of role.
A new MP3 sermon from First Byron CRC is now available on SermonAudio with the following details: Title: Grace to You- God's Plan for Israel: The Responsibility Subtitle: Grace to You Speaker: Dr. David P Murray Broadcaster: First Byron CRC Event: Sunday - PM Date: 9/24/2023 Bible: Romans 10 Length: 35 min.
A new MP3 sermon from First Byron CRC is now available on SermonAudio with the following details: Title: Grace to You: God's Plan for Isreal - The Remnant Pt. 2 Subtitle: Grace to You Speaker: Dr. David P Murray Broadcaster: First Byron CRC Event: Sunday - PM Date: 8/13/2023 Bible: Romans 9 Length: 35 min.
If you appreciate this work, consider supporting it - https://www.patreon.com/seekgodtogether Today we will read Micah 6:8 which says, “Mankind, He has told you what is good and what it is the Lord requires of you: To act justly, to love faithfulness, and to walk humbly with your God.” Dear worshipper, it would be an impossible task and horrible burden to ask you to determine your own purpose. And even though we vainly seek our own autonomy, haven't you found that you never really get it? You seek liberty from things known and unknown, but have you found it? You are never truly free. You are always dependent. And so the only question is to which power will you yield: yourself, others, various spiritual beings, or the Creator Himself? You must choose. Here God tells us His expectations - His purpose - His calling not just for an individual but for humanity. And not only that, but it seems as though He's made this plain in the past. The fact that we ignore its simplicity should compel us to remind ourselves of it often. God tells us to act justly. To simply do what's right. To take ownership of our own conduct and live well. And He tells us to love faithfulness. This word is “Hesed” and means God's Loyal Love. We can't define it exactly because it's a description of God's affection and commitment to us. It's how God is and what He's like. We are to love that and seek to imitate it. How does God love you? How does God love others - even your worst enemy? Yes - you are to love that about God and imitate it yourself. That's your purpose. And lastly, we are to do this while walking with humbly with God. To be humble is to see yourself as lower than God (which of course you are). It's to take a position of less importance. I love this because the invitation is there to walk with God. To be close by His side as He redeems humanity. But to do so with our head lowered. We are not the important character in the story - He is! But we get to come along for the ride and be close to the action. “I love You God for Who You are and how You do what You do. I want to act as You require, and love what You love.”
We just wrapped up our most recent sermon series on the book of Judges called "When All Other Lights Go Out". In this episode, Jonathan and John-Mark recap the series! We also discuss a number of upcoming events happening at Shades! Make sure to email us at midweek@shadesvalley.org Visit our website shadesvalley.org JM's Album Of The Week: Lord Huron & Ben Schneider - Music for The Starling Girl (Score & Music from the Original Motion Picture) Bradford's Book Club (Jonathan's Pick): Judges for You (God's Word for You) by Timothy Keller
A new MP3 sermon from First Byron CRC is now available on SermonAudio with the following details: Title: Grace to You - God's Plan for Isreal: The Remnant Subtitle: Grace to You Speaker: Dr. David P Murray Broadcaster: First Byron CRC Event: Sunday - PM Date: 8/6/2023 Bible: Romans 9:6-27 Length: 34 min.
A new MP3 sermon from First Byron CRC is now available on SermonAudio with the following details: Title: Grace to You: God's Plan for Isreal: The Reality Subtitle: Grace to You Speaker: Dr. David P Murray Broadcaster: First Byron CRC Event: Sunday - PM Date: 7/30/2023 Bible: Romans 9:1-5 Length: 36 min.
Become the YOU God wants to use. In “God Chose You! Will You?,” we're reminded that we have a choice to walk by faith into our purpose or stay stuck in what God has called us out of. If you've just made a decision for Christ, please respond HERE: http://ele.vc/tIepfr To support this ministry and help us continue to reach people all around the world click here: http://www.elevationchurch.org/giving/ Scripture References: Ephesians 1, verse 4 Ephesians 4, verses 22-24
Become the YOU God wants to use. In “God Chose You! Will You?,” we're reminded that we have a choice to walk by faith into our purpose or stay stuck in what God has called us out of. If you've just made a decision for Christ, please respond HERE: http://ele.vc/tIepfr To support this ministry and help us continue to reach people all around the world click here: http://www.elevationchurch.org/giving/ Scripture References: Ephesians 1, verse 4 Ephesians 4, verses 22-24
Become the YOU God wants to use. In “God Chose You! Will You?,” we're reminded that we have a choice to walk by faith into our purpose or stay stuck in what God has called us out of. If you've just made a decision for Christ, please respond HERE: http://ele.vc/tIepfr To support this ministry and help us continue to reach people all around the world click here: http://www.elevationchurch.org/giving/ Scripture References: Ephesians 1, verse 4 Ephesians 4, verses 22-24
What an interesting Psalm that seems to fit what has happened to our dear country today! We believe that this Psalm was written in the days of Hezekiah who was the king of Judah. Isaiah was prophesying that judgment was coming to the nation of Israel by way of the Assyrian armies just north of them. The unknown writer of this Psalm begins by remembering what their fathers had told them about the glorious establishment of Israel in the Promise Land (vv. 1-8). When the leaders of the nation sought the LORD and His blessings, the nation enjoyed prosperity and protection. They were a nation that was envied by all the other nations of the world. This is the true story of American. America was founded upon Biblical and Christian principles and quickly became one the greatest nations in the history of the world. In the 1800's someone said, “America is great because America is good. If America ever ceases to be good, America will cease to be great.” One of the foremost constitutional theorists of the founding generation of our country, John Adams, observed, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious People. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.” He wasn't the only Founding Father to hold this view. Indeed, James Madison wrote that our Constitution requires “sufficient virtue among men for self-government,” otherwise, “nothing less than the chains of despotism can restrain them from destroying and devouring one another.” When “every man begins to do what is right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25), and there is no respect for God, no respect of others and property, no sense of self-restraint or self-responsibility, no respect for authority or the law, you will find lawlessness, violence, and anarchy. Whenever I have read Psalm 44:9-16 over the past several years, I have immediately pictured how these verses describe America today. After the writer remembers in the first 8 verses how God bless and help them to become a great nation, he begins verse 9 with the word, “But”. “But You have cast us off and put us to shame….” In the next 6 verses, the writer acknowledges that it was “You” (God), that turn away from His people and His beloved nation and allowed their sins to catch up with them. Notice the seven “You” statements: “You have cast us off and have put us to shame”. “You do not go out with our armies”. “You make us turn back from the enemy”. “You have given us up like sheep… and have scattered us among the nations.” “You sell your people for next to nothing”. “You make us a reproach to our neighbors, a scorn and a derision to those around us.” “You make us a byword among the nations, a shaking of the head among the peoples.” God really doesn't have to judge us. All He has to do is take His hand of blessing and protection off of us! That is what happened to Israel in Hezekiah's day and that is exactly what is happening to America today. The only answer and hope God gives us to this dilemma is found in 2 Chronicles 7:14, “If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.” My friend, it is not a good thing to be “cast off” from the Lord! May the Lord put the Spirit of humility, prayer, and repentance into the hearts of His people today! God bless!
Saturday is review day on The Daily Promise. Every Saturday, we review the promises of the week so we can allow them to go deep into our hearts and lives. Here are the promises we covered this week. Galatians 3:26 – You are a God's Child. Ephesians 1:2 – God Gives You Peace and Rest. Jeremiah 29:13 – When You Seek God, You Find Him. Isaiah 40:29 – God Gives You Strength. Ephesians 2:10 – You God's Masterpiece.
If you appreciate this work, consider supporting it - https://www.patreon.com/seekgodtogether We're continuing in our reading of Psalm 103 - a psalm of David. This is a beautiful and encouraging psalm. If you're new, you might want to check out the last few episodes on Psalm 103. We've been encouraged to praise God - our ultimate healer - a God full of benefits - who enacts real justice. Even now, go ahead and take a few seconds and repeat after me out loud. Say, “I praise You God - my healer - in You I have everything.” Today we're looking at verses 11-14 which say, “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His faithful love toward those who fear Him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him. For He knows what we are made of, remembering that we are dust.” How much do you think God loves you? Not someone else. Not someone more deserving. You - how much do you think God loves you? You wouldn't believe it if I told you. It's a lot. In fact its infinite. It's as high as the heavens are above the earth. No one could measure that. That's how much God loves you - yes you! But what about all the stupid junk you've done? Maybe even yesterday, or 30 seconds ago? Isn't He mad? Doesn't it tarnish how He loves? Hardly. You just don't understand the love of God yet. He has separated you from all your stupid junk as far as the east is from the west. Not sure if you've noticed, but there's a limit to north and south. You can only go so far north and then you have to go south. But you can go east or west forever and ever. He has separated you from your sin by that much. But isn't He a mighty King? A powerful and holy sovereign? Isn't He to be dreaded? Shouldn't you cower in his presence? Well, do you cower in your dads presence? He's your father. A good father loves his children and God is the perfect father. He has compassion on you. No need to cower. But doesn't He have high expectations of us that we fail at moment to moment? Surely He sees us as pathetic and weak. Surely we have failed Him. Well - sorta. It is true He has lofty “Plans” for us. But He is keenly aware of what He's made. He loves, forgives, and has compassion on you knowing that you - and this may seem odd - are dust. You are a transitory temporary tenant here. You are fragile, earthy, and limited. There are reasons you are this way and there are accompanying weaknesses. But God is aware of all of them. His expectations of you take your entire context into account. He's a much better Father than you can possibly imagine. You have one responsibility. And it's right there. Your job (if that's even the right word) is to “fear” Him. We've addressed this word before. But for now just ask yourself, “what is it you fear?” Do you fear the recession, losing your job, getting sick, losing a loved one? You fear something and probably lots of things. But do you actually fear that which has real power? God has all the power and resources. Why not elevate your fear to one object? God Himself. And there find out that He is supremely wonderful. This is what your soul needs. And there is an infinite supply in God Himself. God I love You - You love me - I need You - You want me - I'm dirty - You forgive and pursue me…show me today how to live in light of that.
If you appreciate this work, consider supporting it - https://www.patreon.com/seekgodtogether Today we will continue in Psalm 103. We began by looking at verse 1 & 2 as an encouragement to our soul to praise God. Even now, take just a moment and encourage your own soul. You can simply say softly, “I praise You God, I praise You God, I praise You God.” Go ahead. We continue in this Psalm in verses 3-5 which say, “He forgives all your sin; He heals all your diseases. He redeems your life from the Pit; He crowns you with faithful love and compassion. He satisfies you with goodness; your youth is renewed like the eagle.” What sticks out to you as you hear these verses? Personally, it's the “heals all your diseases” part. Great songs have been written on it. But He clearly doesn't heal “all” diseases. At least not yet. Indeed some suffer with ailments for years until their physical bodies succumb. Perhaps some of us focus on the “diseases” because it's the most visceral, most obvious. But look at the other things God is doing…forgiving all your sin, redeeming your life from…well…whatever the Pit is. Crowning you with His love and compassion, satisfying you, renewing your youth and energy. My goodness, if He's truly doing these things, then what a God! Healing disease is the easiest bit. God is treating you and me like royalty. Do you want that? Do you want God? We are strange people. We can tie our sense of wellbeing to facebook likes - people that can offer us nothing more than a passing bit of attention. Meanwhile the God of the Universe is giving us infinite attention and treasure. Just think about that. But again, facebook likes, like diseases, are immediate, here and now, and fleeting. Whether or not a disease takes you or me today, or in 20 years remains to be seen. But in the heavenly's and for all eternity, you have God Himself and all the benefits that come with Him. Be blessed and live in that light today. God, You forgive, heal, redeem, crown, and satisfy. I want to know You and rest in You today. Praise You God.
Today in Closing Remarks, Steve answers the question about stardom and how to become a star. "You God to get there and you need more God to stay there!" - Uncle SteveSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
If you appreciate this work, consider supporting it - https://www.patreon.com/seekgodtogether We're continuing in our reading of Psalm 103 - a psalm of David. This is a beautiful and encouraging psalm. If you're new, you might want to check out the last few episodes on Psalm 103. We've been encouraged to praise God - our ultimate healer - a God full of benefits - who enacts real justice. Even now, go ahead and take a few seconds and repeat after me out loud. Say, “I praise You God - my healer - in You I have everything.” Today we're looking at verses 11-14 which say, “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His faithful love toward those who fear Him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him. For He knows what we are made of, remembering that we are dust.” How much do you think God loves you? Not someone else. Not someone more deserving. You - how much do you think God loves you? You wouldn't believe it if I told you. It's a lot. In fact its infinite. It's as high as the heavens are above the earth. No one could measure that. That's how much God loves you - yes you! But what about all the stupid junk you've done? Maybe even yesterday, or 30 seconds ago? Isn't He mad? Doesn't it tarnish how He loves? Hardly. You just don't understand the love of God yet. He has separated you from all your stupid junk as far as the east is from the west. Not sure if you've noticed, but there's a limit to north and south. You can only go so far north and then you have to go south. But you can go east or west forever and ever. He has separated you from your sin by that much. But isn't He a mighty King? A powerful and holy sovereign? Isn't He to be dreaded? Shouldn't you cower in his presence? Well, do you cower in your dads presence? He's your father. A good father loves his children and God is the perfect father. He has compassion on you. No need to cower. But doesn't He have high expectations of us that we fail at moment to moment? Surely He sees us as pathetic and weak. Surely we have failed Him. Well - sorta. It is true He has lofty “Plans” for us. But He is keenly aware of what He's made. He loves, forgives, and has compassion on you knowing that you - and this may seem odd - are dust. You are a transitory temporary tenant here. You are fragile, earthy, and limited. There are reasons you are this way and there are accompanying weaknesses. But God is aware of all of them. His expectations of you take your entire context into account. He's a much better Father than you can possibly imagine. You have one responsibility. And it's right there. Your job (if that's even the right word) is to “fear” Him. We've addressed this word before. But for now just ask yourself, “what is it you fear?” Do you fear the recession, losing your job, getting sick, losing a loved one? You fear something and probably lots of things. But do you actually fear that which has real power? God has all the power and resources. Why not elevate your fear to one object? God Himself. And there find out that He is supremely wonderful. This is what your soul needs. And there is an infinite supply in God Himself.
If you appreciate this work, consider supporting it - https://www.patreon.com/seekgodtogether Today we will continue in Psalm 103. We began by looking at verse 1 & 2 as an encouragement to our soul to praise God. Even now, take just a moment and encourage your own soul. You can simply say softly, “I praise You God, I praise You God, I praise You God.” Go ahead. We continue in this Psalm in verses 3-5 which say, “He forgives all your sin; He heals all your diseases. He redeems your life from the Pit; He crowns you with faithful love and compassion. He satisfies you with goodness; your youth is renewed like the eagle.” What sticks out to you as you hear these verses? Personally, it's the “heals all your diseases” part. Great songs have been written on it. But He clearly doesn't heal “all” diseases. At least not yet. Indeed some suffer with ailments for years until their physical bodies succumb. Perhaps some of us focus on the “diseases” because it's the most visceral, most obvious. But look at the other things God is doing…forgiving all your sin, redeeming your life from…well…whatever the Pit is. Crowning you with His love and compassion, satisfying you, renewing your youth and energy. My goodness, if He's truly doing these things, then what a God! Healing disease is the easiest bit. God is treating you and me like royalty. Do you want that? Do you want God? We are strange people. We can tie our sense of wellbeing to facebook likes - people that can offer us nothing more than a passing bit of attention. Meanwhile the God of the Universe is giving us infinite attention and treasure. Just think about that. But again, facebook likes, like diseases, are immediate, here and now, and fleeting. Whether or not a disease takes you or me today, or in 20 years remains to be seen. But in the heavenly's and for all eternity, you have God Himself and all the benefits that come with Him. Be blessed and live in that light today.
It's Thursday, January 5th, A.D. 2023. This is The Worldview in 5 Minutes heard at www.TheWorldview.com. I'm Adam McManus. (Adam@TheWorldview.com) By Jonathan Clark How Chinese Communists are co-opting Christianity The U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom released a report on China last month. The Chinese Communist Party is continuing its five-year plan to sinicize major religions in the country, including Christianity. The report noted, “Official campaigns to sinicize religion have a disproportionally adverse impact on Christianity. … State-controlled religious organizations have been involved in altering, censoring, and controlling the content of Christian religious texts (such as the Bible) … doctrines, sermons, and hymns to ensure their alignment with the Chinese Communist Party's interpretation of religion.” Those who do not bow to such control face severe persecution. Abortion: Global leading cause of death Abortion was the leading cause of death last year, accounting for 40% of all deaths. Worldometer statistics report over 44 million unborn babies were killed by abortion in 2022. By comparison, an estimated 16 million people died from disease last year, 9.6 million from cancer, 6 million from smoking, and 2 million from HIV/AIDS. In the United States, there are an estimated 1,500 to 2,500 abortions per day. This means nearly 20% of all pregnancies in America (not including miscarriages) end in abortion. Psalm 106:37-38 says, “They sacrificed their sons and their daughters to the demons; they poured out innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters, whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan, and the land was polluted with blood.” Hungary's tax policies urges married couples to have kids In contrast, one country is seeking to support families. Hungary implemented a new tax policy this month that exempts mothers under the age of 30 from paying income tax. The tax exemption also applies to working adults under the age 25 and mothers with at least four children. The program offers financial support for buying seven-seater cars as well. Hungary has been enacting pro-family policies to encourage increased birthrates. GOP's McCarthy voted down time after time for House speaker House Republicans flailed through a long second day of fruitless balloting Wednesday, unable to either elect Kevin McCarthy as House speaker or come up with a new strategy to end the political chaos that has tarnished the start of their new majority, reports the Associated Press. Yet McCarthy wasn't giving up, even after the fourth, fifth and sixth ballots produced no better outcome. Twenty conservative holdouts still refuse to support him, leaving McCarthy far short of the 218 votes typically needed to win the gavel. Appearing on Fox News, Republican Congressman Chip Roy of Texas, one of the 20 conservatives opposing McCarthy, said this. ROY: “[McCarthy] has been in the leadership of Republicans since 2009. During that time, the debt has gone from 11 trillion to 32 trillion. In other words, we want to be able to have a check against The Swamp. This is about changing this town. Is anybody listening to this actually happy with what Congress is doing? Do you think Congress is doing a good job? The answer is ‘No.' So, why would we embrace the status quo? Why would we keep doing the same thing over and over again, that's what's happening in that room. “And this morning, a group of folks threatened some of us and they lost votes on that. Mike Rogers threatened to say he's going to kick those of us off of any committees who dared to challenge the coronation of the Speaker. And it was not received well by a lot of people in the room. Mike Rogers is emblematic of the problem. He is precisely why we ended up with bills like the $1.7 trillion monstrosity that was destroying our freedom. I'm not blinking!” House Speaker elections required multiple ballots 14 times Throughout American history, there have been 14 instances of Speaker elections requiring multiple ballots. Thirteen of 14 multiple-ballot elections occurred before the Civil War, when party divisions were more nebulous. The last time a Speaker election required two or more votes on the floor happened in 1923 with the election of Frederick Gillett, a Republican, from Massachusetts. Twitter previously suspended 250,000 accounts The latest batch of Twitter files show just how many accounts the social media company suspended on behalf of the U.S. government prior to Elon Musk taking over, reports CBN News. New Twitter owner Elon Musk tweeted, “US govt agency demanded suspension of 250K accounts, including journalists and Canadian officials!” Meanwhile, the Christian Post reports Twitter reinstated its account last Saturday. The Christian news group tweeted, “Our Twitter account has just been reinstated after a 9-month suspension because we correctly called Biden official Rachel Levine a man — and we refused to retract this truth.” 88% of Congressmen claim to be Christians Pew Research reports this year's 118th U.S. Congress remains untouched by two American demographic trends: the decline of Christianity and the rise of religious disaffiliation. Self-identified Christians have dropped to 63% of the population, and those who identify with no religion have increase to nearly 30% of the population. However, 88% of voting members of Congress say they are Christians, and only one member identifies as religiously unaffiliated. Since the 1960s, the Protestant makeup of Congress has dropped from 74% to 56%. Meanwhile, Roman Catholic identification has increased from 18% to 27%. Identification with other religions or no religion increased from 6% to 15%. Cardiac arrest of NFL player results in prayer on field And finally, NFL Buffalo Bills player Damar Hamlin suffered cardiac arrest during a game Monday against the Cincinnati Bengals that turned into a viral prayer meeting. The rest of the game was suspended. Hamlin, #3, had just stood up after being tackled before collapsing to the ground. Medics immediately performed CPR to restart his heart which lasted for nine minutes. At the same time, head coach Sean McDermott gathered with his team to pray over their teammate. An ambulance took Hamlin to the ICU where he remains in critical condition with signs of improvement. His uncle, Dorrian Glenn, told CNN that Hamlin remained sedated on a ventilator as doctors worked toward getting him to breathe on his own. ESPN commentator prayed spontaneously on air Across social media, players and fans alike offered prayers for Hamlin. A day after the game, ESPN's Dan Orlovsky prayed a spontaneous prayer for him on “NFL Live.” Listen. ORLOVSKY: “We just want to pray, truly come to You, and pray for strength for Damar, for healing for Damar, for comfort for Damar, to be with his family, to give them peace. If we didn't believe that prayer didn't work, we wouldn't ask this of You God. I believe in prayer. We believe in prayer. We lift up to Damar Hamlin's name in Your name, Amen.” ANOTHER ESPN COMMENTATOR: “Amen.” 1 Peter 5:6-7 says, “Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” Close And that's The Worldview in 5 Minutes on this Thursday, January 5th in the year of our Lord 2023. Subscribe by iTunes or email to our unique Christian newscast at www.TheWorldview.com. Or get the Generations app through Google Play or The App Store. I'm Adam McManus (Adam@TheWorldview.com). Seize the day for Jesus Christ.
If you appreciate this work, consider supporting it - https://www.patreon.com/seekgodtogether Today we will read Micah 6:8 which says, “Mankind, He has told you what is good and what it is the Lord requires of you: To act justly, to love faithfulness, and to walk humbly with your God.” Dear worshipper, it would be an impossible task and horrible burden to ask you to determine your own purpose. And even though we vainly seek our own autonomy, haven't you found that you never really get it? You seek liberty from things known and unknown, but have you found it? You are never truly free. You are always dependent. And so the only question is to which power will you yield: yourself, others, various spiritual beings, or the Creator Himself? You must choose. Here God tells us His expectations - His purpose - His calling not just for an individual but for humanity. And not only that, but it seems as though He's made this plain in the past. The fact that we ignore its simplicity should compel us to remind ourselves of it often. God tells us to act justly. To simply do what's right. To take ownership of our own conduct and live well. And He tells us to love faithfulness. This word is “Hesed” and means God's Loyal Love. We can't define it exactly because it's a description of God's affection and commitment to us. It's how God is and what He's like. We are to love that and seek to imitate it. How does God love you? How does God love others - even your worst enemy? Yes - you are to love that about God and imitate it yourself. That's your purpose. And lastly, we are to do this while walking with humbly with God. To be humble is to see yourself as lower than God (which of course you are). It's to take a position of less importance. I love this because the invitation is there to walk with God. To be close by His side as He redeems humanity. But to do so with our head lowered. We are not the important character in the story - He is! But we get to come along for the ride and be close to the action. “I love You God for Who You are and how You do what You do. I want to act as You require, and love what You love.”
Celebrate Don't Compare with Mary Lenaburg Join Mary & I as we cry, chat, pray and dive into all things regarding how we allow comparison to seep into our lives. How to break the chains of comparison and how to live authentically as the unique YOU God created you to be. I can't wait for you to listen to this one. LINKS FROM THIS EPISODE Mary Lenaburg on Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/marylenaburg/ Mary's Website: https://marylenaburg.com Sign up for the "Don't Compare" Challenge: https://forms.gle/KgLwFaH7aQtUgGtU7 Mary's Books: Be Brave in the Scared; Be Bold in the Broken Find me on IG - https://www.instagram.com/heatheryarr_/ Email me holyhotmessmom@gmail.com with a screenshot of your 5 star review and sweet wonderful comment AND your address and I'll mail you a sticker! Paypal: paypal.me/holyhotmess Venmo us at https://venmo.com/u/holyhotmess_ Holy Hot Mess Youtube Channel THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY… YOU… because you can NOW support the podcast via PayPal and Venmo. Any donation amount helps to cover the cost of editing software, podcast and website hosting, and many of the other nuances that go into this one woman ministry & podcast! ALSO, WANNA BE A SPONSOR? This Holy Hot Mess project is now accepting very affordable sponsorships. If you'd like more information and to apply to see if we'd be a good fit working together, head to this link: www.holyhotmess.net/sponsor FOLLOW Your host, Heather! You can hang out with me, Heather, on Facebook, Pinterest or my favorite spots, Instagram & the Youtubes! PSST…ANOTHER GREAT WAY TO SUPPORT IS BY LEAVING A RATING & REVIEW Leaving a rating & review helps our podcast to show up in suggested and ranked listings in podcasts apps. This helps us spread the love, laughs, and encouragement to other women who might need it! Intro & Outro Music is attributed to Feeling Sunny by Scott Holmes Music and licensed under a Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
When you stand for justice, truth always prevails! Today on Exploring the Marketplace, Shawn Bolz & Bob Hasson bring to the conversation, Clarisa Batiz. Clarisa works in a family business where she manages the sales side of the organic vegetables department that exports fruits and vegetables from Mexico to the US and Canada. Tune in as Shawn, Bob & Clarisa share how God opened the door for her to work in a male dominated family business and the peace God gave her along the way. Hear how God has used her in social justice to bring awareness to situations that brought truth and exposure and the deep faith she walks in in her business and life. You + God = more not less. You can do anything with Him by your side! Tune in!
Wake the Faith up Slayer… This is Garth Heckman with the David Alliance and you can reach me at TDAgiantslayer@gmail.com Brought to you by wellbuiltbody.com Gym Apparel for men and women that rocks and shocks and ain't for everybody - but just might be for you. wellbuiltbody.com Who do you want to be when you grow up? Fireman, Rock star, NFL player, UFC fighter, Doctor, Homemaker, Mother or even a veterinarian…. But I don't ever remember as a kid being asked “what do others want you to be like when you grow up… Charlie Chaplin - 26TH place it might be a myth… But what is not a myth is in todays world more than ever we feel a pressure to promote our best version of ourself which in fact is not the real version of ourselves. Even people who truly are the hardest working, the most successful and seem to have it all together may in fact be driven by horrible motives. They are adopted, they are trying to prove their worth to their parents, they have an axe to grind with those who hurt them… whatever the case- even in success you may be a failure in your foundation that produced that success. Some people won't like you for being you some people won't like you for being someone else Some people just won't like you So why don't you be the person who doesn't care and just be who God created you to be. When you get to heaven God is not going to ask you why you were not more like this person or that person… he is going to ask why you were not like who he created you to be. Psalm 139:14 I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well. Praise = confess you made me spectacular. Marvelous = distinguished. YOU MUST LEARN TO CONFESS THAT YOU ARE SPECTACULAR AND DISTINGUISHED! LIKE NO ONE ELSE. Eph. 2:10 We are a masterpiece… what does that truly mean? Well yes we are exquisite, and beautiful (and not by the worlds standards) but what it truly means more than anything is we are one of a kind, The only one of its kind. When we talk about the mona lisa we don't compare it to other Mona Lisa's… because it is one of a kind. There are no duplicates of the Mona Lisa… now you may argue and say surely someone has painted a Mona Lisa… yes for sure… but when you ask a true master artist who is also a professional art critic they will laugh at any such suggestion that you can create a duplicate. As one might suggest - you can paint a mona lisa, you can call it a mona lisa, but it is not only a fake but a piece of trash which should never even have the title Mona Lisa mentioned in the same breath as this caricature. There are no duplicates for you. Be who God created you to be in him and in his word. Do you truly want the formula for happiness? Be the YOU God created YOU to be.