Opening a door. Such a simple action. We do it many times a day, a week, a year. We open the door to our home, our car, a restaurant, a shop etc. Special moments are when someone knocks on your door and you don’t expect it. Sometimes it surprises you and sometimes you thought it would happen sooner. Your best friend, mate, girlfriend, boyfriend, parent, child… Someone came to you. Someone who needs your help studying. Someone who comes home to the people and place they love. Someone who wants to apologize and beg for forgiveness. Someone who wants to share their feelings for you. Someone who left but had to come home because they missed you. Someone who wants to start their life with you and move in together. Someone who had a marital argument and came to you for advice, friendship and shelter. Someone who wants to support his daughter in her troubles. Someone who came to congratulate you with a bottle of wine. Someone who will change your life forever.
Open a door and experience an adventure. Love, friendship and even pain or fear. But these things make life worth living.
15th April 2017 >> Daily Reflection on This Evening's Gospel Reading (Matthew 28:1-10) for Roman Catholics on Holy Saturday for the Easter Vigil.
Holy Saturday (Evening Easter Vigil Mass)
Friends, on this Holy Saturday our Gospel we hear St. Matthew’s account of the resurrection. The resurrection of Jesus from the dead is the be-all and end-all of the Christian faith. If Jesus didn’t rise from the dead, all bishops, priests, and Christian ministers should go home and get honest jobs, and all the Christian faithful should leave their churches immediately.
As Paul himself put it: “If Jesus is not raised from the dead, our preaching is in vain and we are the most pitiable of men.” It’s no good, of course, trying to explain the resurrection away or rationalize it as a myth, a symbol, or an inner subjective experience. None of that does justice to the novelty and sheer strangeness of the Biblical message.
It comes down finally to this: if Jesus was not raised from death, Christianity is a fraud and a joke. But if he did rise from death, then Christianity is the fullness of God’s revelation, and Jesus must be the absolute center of our lives. There is no third option.
“It was a mistake to follow your footsteps.” AU where Chat Noir is working with Hawkmoth. 3641 words.
holy fack ok i haven’t written in a LONG time and this was p lazy and has literally zero revisions and it KIND OF GOT OUT OF HAND BUT THERE WAS A LOT OF GROUND TO COVER
You remember the day he gave you the ring.
It was the punchline to a hard day at the end of a hard week at the end of a hard year. The last thing you were expecting was the attention of your father. He lost interest in you when your mother left, leaving you like some abandoned, half completed project he had no intention of picking up again.
The topic of the April’s evaluation actually reflected his current mood and made him wonder if the coaches knew about his situation, despite his acting around them. He was fine with doing a slow song. Actually he prefered those over faster songs, since he wasn’t the best vocalist and thus couldn’t adapt that well in comparison to other fellow trainees.
There were a ton of songs he would like to perform, most of them somehow included playing the piano. But these days he didn’t felt like touching the keyboard. It didn’t felt right at the moment, his hands were stained from negativity and he was afraid it might influence his playing. Kang Joon wanted to stay away from it for a while, so this time around he decided to just concentrate on singing. For the past weeks he had been into a pretty underestimated singer called KREAM, whose song he had performed during the Yeouido Flower Festival. The vocal range were made for him, he didn’t possessed a high and beautiful voice like the original singer, but he was able to express himself through his songs. One of his most current works had especially caught Kang Joon’s attention, so this was the song of his choice.
i think of you with ink stained hands and paint smeared across cheekbones. with the sound of a train speeding over it's tracks and the shrill screaming of its horn. you come with the sharpness in the scent of lavender and the softness of april rain. bright eyes reflected in the birth of dawn and death of dusk. with you, i think of revered aphrodite statues and the way midnight can settle over one's shoulders like a familiar coat. i think of sly and sleek and clever, a trickster but not a fox.