anything against you


i hate myself part 3 (part 1) (part 2) (part 4)


The Modern Goddess

Aphrodite walks down the street, an unassuming young woman. She watches the men who follow women around, clawing at their hair, their clothes. She curses them on a watery tongue. They will drown on their own words tonight. 

Athena is at war in the senate seat, the streets, in her own head. She’s a strategist, a wise, nasty woman. She stands for the people who are thrown to the wolves, and gives them a sword so they can be the heroes she knows them to be. 

Artemis hunts down the abusers, the takers, the grim reapers. She shoots arrows of truth and revolution into the hearts of survivors. She is always just ahead in the tree line, crying for you to be free. 

Hera is the school teacher, the grandmother, a victim who notices your wounds and stays with you. She is a mother, firm grip on your shoulder as you stand up against violence, against anything bad for you. You will win today, you have no other choice. She looks at you and survival is etched in her face. 

Hecate is the friend that tells you to leave the asshole, who is a bodyguard, who threatens their tongues with their wrath. She cannot be moved, grounded in the earth. 

Hestia is a social worker who takes in runaways. She holds picket signs and feeds those who would not be fed. Who makes homes for the lost, the aged, the sick. She sees their strength and their trial by fire. She rewards them for their triumph up to this point.

Persephone knows how to fight for her love, how to break your mother’s heart for knowing who you are and what you want, realizing that was not what your family wanted. She waves pride flags, she sips wine at gay bars. 

I have no direct involvement with the issue that I’m sure some of you know about, but I fully support the lgbtq+ community and rights. So, I’m joining all of those other daily Pokémon blogs, such as @dailyshinycutiefly, and showing my encouragement for anyone who wants to love who they wish.


after the last thing i draw Jamie’s immediate response was “AU where instead of captain america for a retainer Elise has batman” 

so here’s five million doodles of Gerome doing very important retainer duties for the little Nohrian princess, he takes his job increDIBLY seriously, thank you. Unlike the other royal sibs and their Awakening!retainers he is definitely the babysitter here, I bet he’d probably be like Jakob except not a butler and five times more straight-faced. 

Don’t be too quick to interpret the moment. Just keep quiet. My encouragement would always be: never think anything is against you, everything is blessing. Why should it be different? Just be quiet. Let it all work itself out.
—  Mooji

78. The pain you feel after drinking too much the night before is a male cat for Germans. The pain you feel after working out is a muscle male cat. #tohellwithmalecats

(submitted by talon24 )

You deserve better…. 

than being ignored.

than being cancelled on repeatedly for no reason. 

than being someone’s ‘spare time’ 

than being forgotten.

than being made to feel unworthy

…than being disrespected. 

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!reader-

Request: “CAN YOU WRITE A DRACO MALFOY X HUFFLEPUFF READER?!?”- @starstruckpuppydaze (dude, when you request be specific)

Warnings: a little bit of Hufflepuff hate but you guys are the best! ^^

Summary: You think back on the day you first met Draco…

A/N: To the most obnoxious person in the world… don’t hug me. LOVE CHU! Also, this was kinda loose, so it sucks. Sorry. -Em

Originally posted by legendrarrymalfoy

  No one really expected it. Hell, you didn’t expect it either. You were dating Draco Malfoy. A Slytherin. You didn’t have anything against Slytherins, but you were pretty sure Draco had something against Hufflepuffs. Until that very special day…

  You were walking by yourself in one of the many halls of Hogwarts. You had your books in your arms. You were distracted by thoughts about Potions. You never seemed to get them right. The directions appeared to be simple and easy to follow but when you did attempt to make any sort of potion, it was always incorrect.

  Lost in these thoughts, you didn’t pay any attention to where you were going. A group of Slytherins was walking past you, and one of them roughly bumped into you making you drop your books. “Watch where you’re going, idiot” he sneered. “Oh, she’s a Hufflepuff hon. She’s bound to be stupid.” A girl snickered.

  You didn’t reply. You stood solemnly, looking at the ground instead. Of course, you were angry. They offended you AND your house. You wanted to fight back, prove that Hufflepuffs were more than just the “nice house”. But you didn’t. There were so many of them and only one of you… you couldn’t take them alone.

  “She’s not doing anything,” one boy from the back observed. “Probably because this little badger is afraid of the snake’s bite” the girl taunted. Your hands curled into fists. The girl, noticing this, got up into your face. “C’mon…” she murmured “Fight me. I know you wanna.”

  But you held your ground. After a few tense moments, she proclaimed “I’m bored. She won’t do anything.” She waved off her little group. A few grunted in reply and began trudging down the hall, sending you death glares as they went by. Only one Slytherin stayed behind, regarding you as some strange science experiment gone wrong.

  The girl turned and called out “Hey Draco. Let’s go! Unless you want to be seen with that.” She didn’t even recognize you as a human being… ouch. “I’m fine, I’ll catch up with you in a sec” he replied, still not taking his eyes off you. You watched as she huffed off, then frowned at the boy.

  “What do you want?” you spat out bitterly. “I just wanted to help you gather your things,” he answered simply, beginning to grab your scattered books. You watched him collect your books in disbelief. He got up and handed over your items. “U-um Thank you” you stammered. “No problem. I’m sorry my so-called “friends” were rude.” Draco said.

  You sighed “It’s fine, you grow numb to it after a while” “Hmm…I assure that it won’t ever happen to you again.” he said, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Why are you being nice to me?” you questioned. “I’m only being nice because she put you in an unfair situation, so don’t get any ideas that I would bake you cookies,” he scoffed “Also, Slytherins don’t pick fights with someone because they feel like it. It’s more of a stupid Gryffindor thing.”

  “Oh…” you mumbled. You were unsure of what else to say and apparently, Draco did too. You stood together silently, not yet ready to part each other. “I see most of your books are about potions,” he attempted to make a stab at conversation. “Oh, yes. I’m awful at it. I’m hoping these might help me.” you admitted.

“Really? I could help you with it” he replied coolly. Wait, what? Did you hear that correctly? Was he seriously willing to help you? “I mean if you’re interested or anything…” he said quickly, catching himself. He was blushing furiously and you found it quite endearing. “Do you mind helping a Hufflepuff?” you asked shyly. “Not at all.” he smiled eagerly.

  You were looking for Draco. You just found out you passing your Potions class. You eventually wandered outside. You spotted him near the lake, talking to a fellow Slytherin.

  You began to run towards him at full speed. By the time you were beside him, you were gasping for air. “Are you alright Y/N?” Draco asked with concern. “Oh…I’m.. fine” you wheezed out and gave an excited smile. He returned the smile.

  “Who’s this Hufflepuff?” the Slytherin said with an air of disapproval. “I’m his girlfriend,” you announced, shocking the Slytherin. “Really, Draco? You’re dating a Hufflepuff?” he said. “Yes, I am. I’d also like to remind you she has a name. It’s Y/N. She’s also more than just a Hufflepuff. She’s my everything.” Draco shot back.

  Disgusted with your relationship, the Slytherin stormed off. You sighed then quickly smirked. “What?” he asked. “They say Hufflepuffs are lame but you just said ‘She’s my everything’. You’re such a romantic cheeseball” you teased. “Oh shut it,” he chuckled “So, what did you want to tell me?”

  “I’M FINALLY PASSING POTIONS!” you squealed. He swept you into his arms “Babe that’s great!” he said. You both stood there laughing blissfully wanting nothing else but to stay in each other’s arms. 

Lesson Tumblr has yet to learn:

A human being is made up of more than a single mistake.

Or even a bunch of mistakes.

A human being can’t be reduced to something “evil” that “needs to be stopped” and is just a “problematic monster.”

It’s not so easy in real life.

And human beings will never cooperate so long as you continue this tyrannical crusade against anything you deem too impure to join your special secret little circle of the morally correct.

Thanksgiving Creepypasta: Black Friday Sale: Everything Must Go

Length: Long


It’s that time of year again. Everyone’s talking about their plans for Thanksgiving, whether it be to complain about having to visit their obnoxious relatives or boasting about all the great food they’re going to be stuffing down their gobs in the next few days. 

Not me, though. I don’t have anything against Thanksgiving specifically, mind you. It’s the day after that that has my stomach in a knot: the day we’ve come to know as Black Friday. No, no, I’m not some anti-consumerist or anything like that. See, a few years ago, something happened when I was out shopping, and ever since then, I’ve found myself increasingly anxious by that one little date on the calendar.

Shopping hadn’t been my intention that day. In fact, it had been the furthest thing from my mind. I’d just spent all of Thursday one state over at my sister’s place to celebrate with her family. After several hours of non-stop crying from her kids and being crowded by in-laws, I was ready to go home and play hermit for the rest of the long weekend. 

It wasn’t until I drove past a large outlet mall and saw a sign for a cheap flatscreen TV that I decided to stop and take a look. The sad truth is that my own TV was plenty big enough already. I didn’t need a new one, I just wanted one because of how cheap it was. Drawn in by the sale, I parked in the busy lot and wandered in through the main doors.

As soon as I passed through the threshold, I was dazzled by the brightness of the interior. It was like leaving a dark movie theatre in the middle of a winter day, with a field of snow reflecting all the sun’s rays right into my face. It was bad enough that I had to squint for a minute as my eyes adjusted to the brightness. 

I could hear a simple elevator-like tune playing the same short chorus over and over again, sounding somehow louder with each rotation. As my eyes began to focus, however, the music faded to the background, like a cockroach escaping to a dark corner. I looked around.

I was in a mall. No surprise there. I was surrounded by pristine white walls, a flawless marble floor, and the lemony odor in the air all remind me of a newly sterilized operating room. Despite all the cars in the parking lot, the hall was strangely empty, but I could hear the chatter of a crowd in the distance. There were bright neon lights flooding the empty hallway ahead of me ushering me forward like a landing strip. 

I started to walk, but as I looked at the storefronts, I noticed most of the shops were still closed. That was odd. It was the middle of the afternoon on Black Friday. If there was ever a time for a store to be open, it was now.

Curious, I approached the closest store and pressed my hand against its window, peering into the dark interior. As far as I could tell, it was devoid of both people and merchandise. All I could see were half-melted mannequins standing single file between a row of empty shelves. Judging by the amount of dust I could see, this store had been closed for quite some time. All of the stores were as empty as this one, so I figured this wing of the mall must have been under construction or something.

I headed towards the sound of a crowd.

The mall’s appearance seemed to deteriorate the closer I got to the sound of a crowd, bringing credence to my theory that I’d entered through a part of the mall in the process of being renovated. They were probably finishing up work on the stores before reopening them.

Where the marble floor had once been flawlessly smooth, it was now littered with scuffmarks, dents, and pieces of chewing gum. The walls had yellowed and cracks had begun to form along their surface. Everywhere I looked, there were pieces of rubbish: magazines, plastic shopping bags, wrappers, clothing, cardboard cut-outs of cereal mascots, and even what appeared to be a brand-new laptop. Among the garbage, I saw a wallet on the floor.

Now, I’m not one of those sleazy jerks, so when I picked up the wallet, my intention wasn’t to keep it for myself. I genuinely planned on returning it to its owner. However, as I fingered through it, I couldn’t find a single piece of ID. Every available slot was filled with a different platinum credit card (no name marked on the front, no signature on the back). I checked the center fold and found a whopping $3000 in cash. 

I had two options: bringing it to the lost and found office, or abide by the tried and true “Finders keepers” rule. I still hadn’t decided, even as I stuffed the wallet into my back pocket and gave it a firm slap. I mean, let’s face it, if I did hand it over to the lost and found, they’d probably take the money themselves, right? I figured I’d hang on to it for now and hopefully come across its owner looking for it.

I continued down the empty hallway of blackened storefronts until I came upon Pluto’s Depot, a large electronics store with a banner that read, “Black Friday Sale: Everything Must Go”. Hundreds of shoppers were running through the aisles, grabbing everything they could get their greedy little hands on. They were screaming and clawing at one another, shamelessly stealing items from each other’s shopping carts. It was like Black Friday on steroids. Or… well, a regular American Black Friday, really.

I stood outside Pluto’s Depot, wondering if I should turn back. Whatever deals this store had, probably weren’t worth it, right? I could feel the bulge of the stranger’s wallet in my pants. Who’s to say its owner wasn’t inside? I certainly wasn’t drawn in by the 50-70% off posters clumsily plastered all over the store’s bumpy walls and displays. I for sure wasn’t attracted to all the phenomenally low-priced gizmos and gadgets on the shelves. I definitely didn’t have money burning in my pocket, begging to be spent. Not at all. I was being selfless, really. That’s what I told myself, at least.

As I stepped through the door, I was assaulted with the familiar scent of plastic and upholstery, the famed “new car smell”. I squeezed through a group of frantic shoppers to get to the shopping cart dock. Unfortunately, it was empty. If I found that flatscreen TV I saw advertised outside the mall, I was going to have to carry it in my arms, and my arms were quickly filling up already. There were so many cool things to buy, and so few things left on the shelves. 

By the time I made it to the back, every single TV had been taken. All that was left in that section of the store was the latest smartphone. I don’t remember the make and model, but I remember thinking Isn’t this supposed to come out next month? I grabbed it.

I doubled back and decided to peruse the store more thoroughly, taking a few more objects as I went along. But, as I walked through the aisles, I kept hearing the faintest groans coming from the posters on the walls. Groans that I ignored. I figured it was my imagination. Maybe I was hearing something from the other aisle. Hell if I know.

With nothing else to buy, I parked myself at the back of the checkout line. It stretched all the way down the aisle and around the corner. I had an armful of stuff weighing me down, but it was worth it for the discount. I had enough gadgets to cover everyone’s Christmas gifts, as well as a few things for myself. A mini drone, a fancy remote-controlled car, my new phone, accessories, a laptop case, that kind of stuff. 

Even with everything carefully-balanced between my forearms and chest, I still fought to open the phone so I could admire it. I was about to buy it, after all. Who cared if I opened the box before I paid? It was great: sleek, skinny, light. I couldn’t wait to charge it and start playing with it. I shuffled around impatiently, and looked at the line.

We hadn’t moved.

My neck was stiff, my feet were throbbing, and my back was aching. The objects in my arms felt as though they were getting heavier and heavier by the minute. The line was taking forever and no one seemed to be leaving the store, no matter how much time passed. I was tempted to leave, but I couldn’t give up. I wanted the deals. I wanted that phone. I wanted the gizmos and trinkets.

I must have stood there for another ten minutes without moving before I got frustrated and glanced towards the people ahead of me. Why hadn’t we moved? Had the cashier fallen asleep? I felt my stomach stop as my eyes scanned the line: the other customer’s shoes had melted into the floor and their hands had merged with their shopping carts. The closer they got to the register, the less the shoppers looked … human. Their shapes became less and less distinct, blending into the objects they were purchasing and the walls they were leaning against.

I let out a scream and I tried to take a step back, but my feet were stuck. I looked down, only to find my shoes had melded into the floor as well. Oh god, it was happening to me. In shock, I dropped the boxes I was holding, sending them falling to the floor. It felt as though an immense weight had been lifted from my shoulders. In the very literal sense. Like that carnival ride that looks like a flying saucer, pinning you against the wall. I hadn’t even realized how much pressure my body had been under until the pressure was gone, but it wasn’t completely gone.

My hand was impossibly heavy.

It was the phone. I was still holding the phone. It was planted firmly in the palm of my hand. I could see its slick black casing melting into my flesh. My hand burned. Desperately, I clawed at the phone, trying to pry it from my skin. It wouldn’t budge. I remember flapping my arm up and down erratically as though I’d just caught a spider crawling up my hand. It wouldn’t let go. The phone wouldn’t let go of me. And then, by pure chance, my hand caught the wall, and the phone shattered into bits and pieces, ripping one of the 70% off posters from the porous surface.

I was too busy nursing my hand to notice the wall at first. It was only when I heard a groan that I looked up, to find a tormented face looking back at me. He … she … it had completely merged with the wall. Oh god, was the entire store like this? I remember sobbing as I plucked broken pieces of phone from my palm while never taking my eyes off the person in the wall. My hand throbbed with pain, but with each chunk I pulled out, it hurt just a little less. Thankfully, when the last piece of plastic dropped to the floor, I was able to move my feet again.

I ran out of Pluto’s Depot without looking back or trying to help anyone inside. I ran through the hallway of cracked walls, stopping only long enough to realize there were eyes staring at me from within those cracks.

I staggered out of the mall and into the empty parking lot. My car was the only one there, off in the distance. I turned around, and instead of a large outlet mall I’d walked in earlier, found one of many crumbling, abandoned buildings we see nowadays because of the recession. By the time I got home and checked my back pocket, the wallet was gone.

That’s why I like to stay at home this time of year, because honestly, that fake mall is still out there somewhere, and I have no way of knowing which doors will lead me to it. I’m afraid it’ll lure me back in, and I won’t have the willpower to resist next time.

Credits to:  manen_lyset

Watch me

Jungkook x Reader

highschool AU!/Fluff

A/N: Enjoy this semi drabble my lovely Jungkookie stans who love Jeon Cena as much as do!



You never had anything really against them. You had fun with it when you were a child, but it was never something you really wanted to pursue as you aged however, every now and then you would go out to play such just to feel the adrenaline or to a least move. Nothing was quite like getting a good sweat out of something you put effort into and you would agree that science was right; exercise made you feel good.

However there was something more adrenaline pumping and more enjoyable that playing the game; and that was watching your boyfriend wrestle.

Keep reading

Imagine lifting Mjolnir at Tony's party

Originally posted by god-of-my-heart

An: I liked the idea that the hammer would be picked up by someone who believed they were unworthy, and it comes as a surprise to them. Sorry if this causes triggers, just wanted to warn you.

As you stepped forward for your turn, all eyes were on you.

It was so silent you could’ve heard a pin drop, which did not make anything better. You were against trying to do this as it was and all the attention was making things a hundred times worse.

It would mean that they would all see your failure.

You knew there was no way in hell you would ever be able to lift that hammer. You were horrible, pathetic, weak, broken …not worthy and not being able to pick up Mjolnir would just confirm what you already knew .

Out of all the people in the room you were the least likely to be able to lift it.

Taking hold of the leather grip, you took a breath. Well, lets get this over with you thought, then pulled with all your might. 

There was so much strength and force that you almost threw the hammer across the room by accident and would have if you hadn’t stopped just in time.

Shocked, you stared at Mjolnir for a second then looked at the stunned faces of the avengers around you, Thor most of all. 

“How did you do that?” Tony asked

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t have been able to.” you replied

“Well, it seems you are worthy” Thor’s deep voice rumbled

you guys honestly don know how ready i am for this episode, i legit have an entire list of anti-bug//head jokes at the ready for when the scenes start popping up and have my salt levels at max, it’s gonna be fucking lit

REQUESTED: You are part of the 1920s movement in which women began wearing pants, and you’re not very feminine in the traditional sense. When you develop a crush on Credence, you enlist Queenie’s help.

Warnings: Mention of scars/abuse, that’s all.

Word Count: 1,250

Being Tina’s and Queenie’s cousin was sometimes a bit daunting. They were both such amazing women—Tina was so driven and passionate about her line of work, and Queenie was both stunning and exceptionally kind. You felt kind of dull in comparison, and the only thing that you could really think to say about yourself was that you were pretty progressive. You tried to look the part too, wearing your hair rather short (and cut yourself) as well as donning pants instead of the expected skirt or dress. It’s not that you had anything against femininity, but you wanted to exercise your right to choose how you appeared to the world. So you did.

Your appearance was met with some scrutiny, either because someone opposed your stance on the issue or because they were unsure of your gender or because your behavior was rather loud and unusual for a woman of the time. You never really minded because it was all a part of your cause, but it also hadn’t bothered you before because you didn’t care about anyone’s perception of you in general…until you met Credence.

He was the most beautiful boy you had ever seen in your life, with gorgeous raven-black hair, high cheekbones, sharp jaw, and delicate angles, and he had captivated you from the very start. Tina had brought Newt home one night when you were visiting, and Credence had been in his suitcase and… It was all history from there. You enjoyed Credence’s soft voice that sounded so delicate in comparison to your own deeper, louder voice, and you particularly liked watching him coming into his own once he was free of his wicked mother. You began to visit your cousins more frequently in the hopes of having a conversation with Credence, and you knew your intentions were painfully obvious—you were always blushing in front of him, always wanting to talk to him and be around him, always stuttering over your own words. You worried that you were too forward (because most thought you were), but had no way to tell. For months it dragged on this way.

But during this time, you began to become self-conscious of your own appearance. You were worried that your hair was too messy and haphazardly framed your face, hiding its structure and shape, and you were worried that your pants made you look boxy and hid what figure you had. You worried that his short answers were a result of being uninterested in your fancy for him. For once, these things felt somehow like they mattered, and so you did the only thing you knew you could do—you went to Queenie.

On a night that the group of you were supposed to go into town and have a nice, calm night relaxing in a magic-friendly bar, you let Queenie go to work. She was absolutely beaming over the fact that you had a crush and was seemed overly giddy now that she was going to give you a makeover. She didn’t do too much—just lent you a dress of hers that she thought would look nice on you and helped you curl your hair into a much more managed mess that left your face open to the air and for observation. And so you set out with Queenie to meet the rest of the gang—and Credence.

When you got there, you spotted Credence immediately, noting the way his frame was highlighted so beautifully in the hazy light of the establishment. You gulped and walked right over to him and struck up a friendly conversation, trying to make yourself a little more upbeat-sounding than usual as you talked about your day and asked him how the book he had been reading was. He had looked confused when you strode up and throughout the beginning of the conversation, but at this, he spoke up. “E-Excuse me, but… How did you know I was reading a b-book?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “Well, I—Credence, I saw you reading it yesterday.”

His eyes went totally wide at this. “Y/N!?” You nodded, still confused, but thought his breathless and shocked voice was absolutely adorable. “I didn’t even—I didn’t recognize you in those clothes. And your hair is different, a-and your voice sounded—different; maybe it’s the lighting. Y-You just look…different.”

You blushed at that and thought maybe this dress had been the right choice, if it had him stuttering this way. “D-Do you like it?” You couldn’t believe how giggly you sounded and wanted to fight yourself—you had never been the timid sort.

Credence blushed, not used to being asked his opinions on things and the way you so directly addressed him. “Well, y-yes, but—I like your other clothes too. I think you’re v-very pretty, and d-determined, and kind.” He was blushing furiously after admitting that out loud. But he kept going, liking to seize the opportunities he had to be brave and honest; he liked how he could afford to take risks now. “I-I like you, Y/N.”

You smiled widely. “You do?”

“Y-Yes.” His voice was so soft, as you suspected it always would be, but it had an edge to it that you liked, as if he were always noticing things that no one else did. “And Qu-Queenie told me, that you asked her for a—For help, with how you look.” You felt a twinge of irritation at that—of course she had been giddy, she had been playing you like a fiddle and practically staged this conversation herself. “And I wanted to say that—I like how you usually look. I like that you choose how you want to—to appear to others, even if it’s…not what others expect. I think you’re brave.”

You were blushing now, rushing to him for a tight hug. “I can’t believe you think all that of me, Credence.”

His arms were loose but firm in the way they held you, and you could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. “Well, yes—Of course I do. I…had a hard time finding how to tell you before. I was more or less…in awe of you, and your life, and how you choose to live it. How y-you don’t mute yourself f-for anybody. And it reminded me of myself, how I am now. T-This is who I want to be, as I am here, tonight. Not afraid of people looking at my hands…” He pulled back from you, cradling in his hand close to his chest, inspecting the raised, angry scars there, not with fear or malice but simply with acceptance. “Not afraid of being…myself. Letting myself take up the space that I want to take up, and letting myself just…be. Letting myself be loved. And I liked that you were that way too… Nothing about you is a show, and nothing about me is either.”

You had never heard him speak so much, let alone so beautifully, about you or about himself. You were breathless at the strength he had acquired and the person he had been all along, hiding inside for so long until he had been set free, so you did the only thing you could think to do: you crushed him into a bruising kiss that you knew was unpracticed but meant absolutely everything to you. You hoped it meant the same to him and tried to ignore Queenie’s cheering before she yelled out, “Now go get back into your pants!”


@aya-fay @dontbeamenacetotheforce @randomrainbownobodyuniverse @hestia-sama

Message or comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list!!

Awww…I just thought this was romantic or cute or something in between. Love really has only one definition–it is.


JeanMarco Week Day 3: Hand to Hold

I could’ve made a comic out of it but there wasn’t enough time orz (maybe some other time ;v;) In which Jean can’t take a fREAKING HINT

A few observations on prayer from this passage:

If we ask in faith, we will receive what we ask for, provided we (a) do not doubt and (b) truly forgive “anything we have against anyone”

You can’t muster up the faith you need to get your prayers answered. Faith isn’t an act of effort. Faith comes by hearing and hearing the word of God. Romans 10:17

Belief comes from true knowledge God’s character, and that kind of knowledge doesn’t happen overnight. It comes from sitting at the feet of Jesus, daily.

The forgiving others clause is probably the biggest roadblock to prayer. Is there any one that you are angry at? Annoyed with? Impatient with? Those are all marks of an unforgiven relationship.

We need to pray for our own forgiveness. We mess up daily and sin grievously. We need to pray for our own healing before we pray for anything else.

Once we are healed, we may find that our desires have changed drastically because prayer changes us.