seems like praying

Loving A Drug Addict

I am not an addict.
But try and love one, and then see if you can look me square in the eyes and tell me that you didn’t get addicted to trying to fix them.
If you’re lucky, they recover. If you’re really lucky, you recover, too.
Loving a drug addict can and will consume your every thought. Watching their physical deterioration and emotional detachment to everything will make you the most tired insomniac alive.
You will stand in the doorway of their bedroom and plead with them that you “just want them back.” If you watch the person you love disappear right in front of your eyes long enough, you will start to dissolve too.
Those not directly affected won’t be able to understand why you are so focused on your loved one’s well-being, especially since, during the times of your family member’s active addiction, they won’t seem so concerned with their own.
Don’t become angry with these people. They do not understand. They are lucky to not understand. You’ll catch yourself wishing that you didn’t understand, either.


“What if you had to wake up every day and wonder if today was the day your family member was going to die?” will become a popular, not-so-rhetorical question.


Drug addiction has the largest ripple effect that I have ever witnessed firsthand.
It causes parents to outlive their children. It causes jail time and homelessness. It causes sisters to mourn their siblings. It causes nieces to never meet their aunts. It causes an absence before the exit.
You will see your loved one walking and talking, but the truth is, you will lose them far before they actually succumb to their demons; which, if they don’t find recovery, is inevitable.
Drug addiction causes families to come to fear a ringing phone or a knock on the door. It causes vague obituaries. I read the papers and I follow the news; and it is scary. “Died suddenly” has officially become obituary-speak for “another young person found dead from a drug overdose.”
Drug addiction causes bedrooms and social media sites to become memorials. It causes the “yesterdays” to outnumber the “tomorrows.” It causes things to break; like the law, trust and homes.
Drug addiction causes statistics to rise and knees to fall, as praying seems like the only thing left to do sometimes.
People have a way of pigeonholing those who suffer from addiction. They call them “trash,” “junkies” or “criminals,” which is hardly ever the truth. Addiction is an illness. Addicts have families and aspirations.
You will learn that drug addiction doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if the addict came from a loving home or a broken family.
Drug addiction doesn’t care if you are religious. Drug addiction doesn’t care if you are a straight-A student or a drop-out. Drug addiction doesn’t care what ethnicity you are. Drug addiction will show you that one decision and one lapse in judgment can alter the course of an entire life.
Drug addiction doesn’t care. Period. But you care.
You will learn to hate the drug but love the addict. You will begin to accept that you need to separate who the person once was with who they are now.
It is not the person who uses, but the addict. It is not the person who steals to support their habit, but the addict. It is not the person who spews obscenities at their family, but the addict. It is not the person who lies, but the addict.
And yet, sadly… it is not the addict who dies, but the person.


-“Lessons I learned from loving a drug addict”
Alicia Cook, WCNC
Oct 19, 2015

Who Lives , Who Dies - A.Ham x Reader

Prompt:  How about A.Ham x Reader where the reader saves Alexander from the bullet that Burr shoots?

Warnings: Death 

Length: 921 words

Requested by: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit

Note: please please pleaseee send in more requests! I love writing them omg!


“Alexander!” You screamed, clutching his final letter. Half dressed in his clothes, you raced towards the Hudson. Your eyes tore the scene apart, in a crazed fashion… You were too late. He’d already gone. You saw a tall, thin silhouette of a man, about to set sail, and quickly raced towards him, offered him all the money within your possession, and asked to be taken to Weehawken. He complied, and you crouched in his boat, ignoring the disapproving looks you received because of your attire. Whilst he rowed, you couldn’t help but think about Alexander… 

Your Alexander… 

How could he be so stupid? Yes, he had been in duels before, but Burr…he was merciless, and after Alexander had promoted Jefferson, Burr had changed. Now he was volatile, dangerous, he would shoot. You knew it, you knew how Burr had converted into this cold figure. He was no longer your sweet best friend. He was different.  You swayed in time with the boat, as his last letter rang through your head, each syllable pounding harder and faster in unison with your heart. 


This letter, my very dear Y/N, has been left to inform you that I have decided to terminate my earthly career; to begin, as I humbly hope from redeeming grace and divine mercy, a happy immortality. Myself and Aaron Burr shall duel at Weehawken, and by the time you wake, it will all be over, I do not intend to kill today. I need not tell you of the pangs I feel, from the idea of quitting you and exposing you to the anguish which I know you would feel, but i am afraid, it must be done. With my last idea; I shall cherish the sweet hope of meeting you in a better world. I love you, my dear, always remember that.

Ever yours, 

Alexander

You were pulled from the swirling vortex of your thoughts by the boat slightly bumping into the shores. You thanked the kind man, before sprinting away, towards the towering cliffs of the Palisades that slightly jutted into your view. The popular duelling ground was located directly underneath. You paused as the ground came into view, and you saw them, Alexander, Burr, their seconds and a doctor. You paused slightly, your body freezing and faltering as you hear the seconds shout. 

“Two!”

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, as you urged your legs to carry you forward, towards them.

“Three” 

You watched Alexander, his gun limply hanging by his side. It seemed like he was praying.

“Four!” 

Burr stood, uncertain, slightly fiddling with his gun. You could see his hands shaking from a distance away

“Five!”

Neither of them saw you coming.

“Six!” 

You stumbled slightly over the rough, uneven terrain, willing your legs to carry you faster towards them.

“Seven!” 

Burr shifted, as he readied his body, standing up straighter, bringing his eyes up. A new strength had arisen in him. He was no longer shaking.

“Eight!”

Your Alexander stayed slightly slumped, you watched as uncertainly raised his gun.

“Nine!” 

Alexander pointed his gun towards the sky. He still didn’t see you.

“Ten!”

You saw them turn. 

You heard a shot.

Burr had shot at Alexander, and it would’ve hit him.


It would’ve…If you hadn’t have pushed him out of the way.

You collapsed in a heap, and the pain hit you immediately. An unbearable burning sensation flooded your body, originating in your right hip, spreading throughout you in a wave of throbbing, unending torture.

“Y/N?!” You heard Alexander exclaim incredulously. “What did you do? Why would you-” His voice broke as tears formed in his eyes, as he desperately clutched at your side. You could barely hear him. It felt as if he were miles away. Everything around you echoed, as you grasped at him, desperate to touch him, to hold him. He was safe, you had saved him. You saw through your blurred vision as Burr tried to approach you, apprehensively and guiltily, but he backed away as Alexander shot him a venomous look and tried to lunge for him

“Alexander..” You muttered weakly. Even the act of speaking hurt, as the pressure of the bullet increased

“Y/N?” He immediately returned to your side, and grabbed you, as if he would never let go.

“Alexander…” You repeated. “ I couldn’t let you die…”

He chuckled softly through his tears. “ My love, don’t you see the irony in this situation?” He paused and panicked as you convulsed slightly in pain.

“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N, you’ll be okay…” He stuttered, desperately trying to convince himself, his optimism was inspiring, it’s what you loved about him, but you knew better. You glanced past him, to the doctor, who gravely shook his head.

You turned away from Alexander for a moment, and instead faced Burr, who was stood, his face filled with regret. He caught your stare, and began to speak.

“I…”

“I forgive you.” You interrupted him. That’s all you wanted to say. Enough blood had been spilt unnecessarily. You didn’t want either of them to live with a guilty conscience. You wanted them to live. 

Slowly, but with determination, you reached a shaking hand up to rest on his face, ignoring your body desperately screaming for you to stop, to give in. “Alexander… I shall cherish the sweet hope of meeting you in a better world. I love you, my dear, always…remember…th-” You stopped, slightly smiling, before finally closing your eyes, laying to rest within his arms.

In the arms of your Alexander.

1. Alas, poor Namjoon!

Originally posted by kseoulsunshine

Summary: In which Namjoon won’t stop complaining about AP tests
Genre: Fluff

You find Namjoon stretched out across the floor, almost as if he were trying to make a snow angel… except you were inside… and it was nearly 90 degrees outside.. and he was lying on your hard-wood floor.

The comparison still stood, though, but in place of snow was a mess of about three different types of Cheetos, old assignments, and 8 different AP review books. 

Namjoon’s eyes slowly open when you approach him, yet his eyes remain on the fan above him. “I think I’m going to die y/n.” 

Keep reading

Forgive me Father - Priest!Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Forgive me Father

Pairing: Priest!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: About 5,750 

Warnings: Angst, Breaking of Vows, Priest!Dean (that says a lot), implied smut, heated moments

Prompt: Reader is the daughter of a preacher herself but she finds herself unable to stop all those sinful thoughts when she meets the newest priest in town. And it all gets so much worse when it turns into love. Will it be the kind of love that will destroy her or not? 

Your eyes were shut as your hands were clasped in front of you. Your lips were in a tight line as you willed yourself so hard to focus, to not think about anything else, only because you wanted to mean this forgiveness you were asking. As if you would ever get it with all those thoughts and feelings you had for him.

Him. Father Dean Winchester.

And the mere word that you had to call him with made these feelings wrong on every level. Back then when your mother talked to you about meeting your true love you thought that it would be an amazing feeling. The skipping heartbeats, the sweaty palms and the stuttering would be only a few of the traits. And the moment you locked eyes, it sounded cheesy, it would feel like the word had stopped spinning. But with you there was one more thing. It felt like your word had comecrumbling down the moment you locked eyes with his.

You had always thought that when it came to true love that you would feel amazing and not like… this. Plagued by guilt, oh so much guilt, for feeling the way you did for him and utter fear of what could come out of that. Because you were scared beyond belief, not so much at the feelings but… at who the person you felt so for was. Especially when you knew you shouldn’t see him in that way. And the fear mixed with the guilt and it all came rushing to you and you felt so overwhelmed that the only thing you wanted to do was cry all day and night, not that you partially weren’t already, for feeling the way you did. You wanted to plead for forgiveness but other than doubting anybody was listening you knew you didn’t deserve it.

“Don’t try to pressure yourself.” a soothing yet rough voice broke the silence and you opened your eyes, turning your head to look at who it was. Not that you would expect anybody else at this time and when the church was actually empty.

Keep reading

6

OVERDUE UPDATE ON ALEPPO & GREATER SYRIA

As of Tuesday, December 20th, 2016: 

After Russia threatened to veto a UN resolution regarding approved UN monitors to monitor evacuations from Aleppo, Syria, a compromised agreement was made and the resolution passed. 

Since then, evacuations from besieged Eastern Aleppo have been made to the countryside of regime-held Western Aleppo. Yesterday, 18 buses picked up evacuees at the standpoint of Rashideen. Over 400 buses have transported civilians, but about 20,000 civilians still remain in Eastern Aleppo. If all goes fairly unhindered (crimes of abuse, threats, and humiliation are consistently occurring despite evacuations), by nightfall of the 20th or early the 21st in Syria, Eastern Aleppo should finally be emptied of it’s brave resilient children who stood up to four years of assault from Russia, Iran, and the regime in the name of democracy and freedom.  

Ground breaking small on ground humanitarian aid groups, like the Karam Foundation, Live Updates from Syria, and the White Helmets, have provided warm food, blankets, and the necessities to all evacuees so far to combat the freezing temperatures that currently plague Aleppo and greater Syria to prevent anymore deaths from hunger, the cold, and critical injuries like those that have occurred this past week. 

In other news, Bana Alabed and her family, the family that live blogged their lives in besieged Aleppo on Twitter, were also evacuated. The orphanage of about 50 children that made headlines for a frightening and moving video posted during the height of the Aleppo genocide were also all evacuated. 

This may be (and hopefully will be as we cannot take anymore suffering) the end of the fall and genocide of Eastern Aleppo. We will not forgive and we will not forget the deafening international silence that responded to our blockaded screams for mercy and help. 

We will never forget the horrors of the Aleppo genocide of December 13th to December 18th. We will never forget Aleppo. 

UPDATE #1: Regime checkpoint seized final civilian convoy from besieged Eastern Aleppo. It is not expected to move for hours; estimated to not move again until dawn in Syria. Hundred of civilians, including children, will be waiting with no food or shelter in subzero temperatures. We hope the convoy will be allowed to move as soon as possible.

*NOTE: This post will be updated whenever I get new updates or anything urgent occurs. When reblogging, go back to the original post/blog to ensure that you are getting the most updated version of events.*

Pray with me friends-

I found the perfect tablet last night. It’s within my price range with SAI, and my mom seemed to like it. Pray with me that my dad will agree to let me buy it. It’s my chance- I have the cash, and I can afford it without going over it.

the signs as shit i got from a word generator
  • aries: canonized cannonball
  • taurus: toasted yeti
  • gemini: grassy sass
  • cancer: tempestuous motorcycle
  • leo: greatest lavatory
  • virgo: neighborly fax
  • libra: harmonic mattress
  • scorpio: semitraditional hinge
  • sagittarius: incidental highway
  • capricorn: erudite anticlimax
  • aquarius: tutorial liberal
  • pisces: published bird
Lessons Learnt From Loving A Drug Addict.

I am not an addict.
But try and love one, and then see if you can look me square in the eyes and tell me that you didn’t get addicted to trying to fix them.
If you’re lucky, they recover. If you’re really lucky, you recover, too. Loving a drug addict can and will consume your every thought. Watching their physical deterioration and emotional detachment to everything will make you the most tired insomniac alive. You will stand in the doorway of their bedroom and plead with them that you “just want them back.” If you watch the person you love disappear right in front of your eyes long enough, you will start to dissolve too.
Those not directly affected won’t be able to understand why you are so focused on your loved one’s well-being, especially since, during the times of your family member’s active addiction, they won’t seem so concerned with their own. Don’t become angry with these people. They do not understand. They are lucky to not understand. You’ll catch yourself wishing that you didn’t understand, either. “What if you had to wake up every day and wonder if today was the day your family member was going to die?” will become a popular, not-so-rhetorical question. Drug addiction has the largest ripple effect that I have ever witnessed firsthand. It causes parents to outlive their children. It causes jail time and homelessness. It causes sisters to mourn their siblings. It causes nieces to never meet their aunts. It causes an absence before the exit. You will see your loved one walking and talking, but the truth is, you will lose them far before they actually succumb to their demons; which, if they don’t find recovery, is inevitable. Drug addiction causes families to come to fear a ringing phone or a knock on the door. It causes vague obituaries. I read the papers and I follow the news; and it is scary. “Died suddenly” has officially become obituary-speak for “another young person found dead from a drug. Drug addiction causes bedrooms and social media sites to become memorials. It causes the "yesterdays” to outnumber the “tomorrows.” It causes things to break; like the law, trust and homes. Drug addiction causes statistics to rise and knees to fall, as praying seems like the only thing left to do sometimes. People have a way of pigeonholing those who suffer from addiction. They call them “trash,” “junkies” or “criminals,” which is hardly ever the truth. Addiction is an illness. Addicts have families and aspirations. You will learn that drug addiction doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if the addict came from a loving home or a broken family. Drug addiction doesn’t care if you are religious. Drug addiction doesn’t care if you are a straight-A student or a drop-out. Drug addiction doesn’t care what ethnicity you are. Drug addiction will show you that one decision and one lapse in judgment can alter the course of an entire life. Drug addiction doesn’t care. Period. But you care. You will learn to hate the drug but love the addict. You will begin to accept that you need to separate who the person once was with who they are now. It is not the person who uses, but the addict. It is not the person who steals to support their habit, but the addict. It is not the person who spews obscenities at their family, but the addict. It is not the person who lies, but the addict. And yet, sadly… it is not the addict who dies, but the person.

So there it is
The end of the world
God’s riding down from on high with the four horsemen in his wake
He’s draped in the light of holy armor and surrounded by a whole host of seraphim
He’s the got fire of justice in one hand and the lightning of retribution in the other
And just as God’s about to shake this metaphysical etch-a-sketch we call creation
St.Brigid of Ireland,patron saint of poets and blacksmiths,puts a hand on his shoulder and says, “Holy Father,I know you think it’s time for everything to end. I know that I should be back with the rest of the heavenly host welcoming the saved home to their rest. But,Father…you gotta see something.”
See,the Lord knows you don’t disobey your father unless it’s all you got left
So he follows St. Brigid and they go to a poetry slam
Somewhere in Georgia or Texas
Some small town no one remembers
A place where the people believe that

A poet walks up to the stage
He says,“New shit,” and God laughs because what the fuck does that even mean?

The poet says,

Man builds a house
Calls it a church
Says,“God lives here,”
Say,“you better come visit,”
As if God gets lonely
But the poets
They build a church
Call it a stage
Say, “it’s the only place I ever felt holy,”
Say, “God doesn’t live here…but he visits sometimes.Sits in the back and he never judges but when he does he always gives tens.”

And then he bows his head and says

Dear God,
Forgive me and my friends the poets
I know we haven’t been to church in a while
But it’s not that we don’t believe
You gotta trust me on that
We’re just worried the blood on our hands looks too much like your sons.
We don’t want to put you through that again
Probably don’t seem like we’re praying as much as we used to but that’s because we realized that poetry and prayer
Are the same thing
It’s all people who aren’t looking for answers
Just hoping someone is asking the same questions
The poets
Their holy don’t work the same way as the rest of us humble sinners
They don’t know how to hold on it,can never seem to keep it
They just want everyone else to be bright
And you gotta see ‘em pray,God
All out loud
Sometimes with their voices
Always with their bodies
Playing survival songs on hearts stretched like too taut violin strings
It’s not always pretty
But it’s the bravest thing I’ve ever seen
And ya gotta admit,Dear Lord
That it’s some kind of miracle
The way they can fit all the light behind a microphone

—  A Prayer For The Poets by Jordan Michael Hamilton

anonymous asked:

Season 4 spoiler please!

Season 4 - Episode 1 - Expectations - SPOILER

‘Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want’ by The Smiths

For the first time in me life, I don’t feel like I’m letting everyone down.  Course that just means that I worry that I’ll start to.  Gotta stop thinking like that.  Gotta stop expecting the worst.

After these exams, it’ll be the summer holidays.  It’ll be a year since I met Finn.  What a year hey?

I can’t wait to see what’s gonna happen in the next year.  For the first time diary, I’m looking forward to my future unfolding.  Cos a big part of me thinks it’s gonna be brilliant. 

Oh god Diary, I hope I didn’t just jinx myself.

***

“D’you know Archer, I’d like a year… no, a month.”  She thought for a moment, “you know what, just a week, where there was nothing shit happening.  No Liam in a coma still.  No Izzy with fucking leukaemia.  No worrying if Saul’s gonna come back and kill me best mate.”

“No Finn and Rae argument.”  Archie replied to Chloe

***

“Do I scrub up alright?”  She asked softly.

“Oh aye, I s’pose.”  He answered with a huge smile, his fingers instantly tangling in one of her curls, “You’re stunning, you know that, Miss Earl?” 

“Well I gotta do something to keep up with you.”  Her hand went to his chest fondly and they leaned in for a kiss.  Linda’s hand appeared between their mouths and Finn pulled back while Rae turned to look at her mum with furious disbelief.

***

“I’ve missed this.”  She whispered to him.

“Me too.”  He could barely speak, the raw emotion of finally getting her out of that hospital after what seemed like endless nights of praying by her bed while she lay in a coma, and the weeks of chemo that followed that, filled his throat.  He stroked her short hair and smiled lovingly at her.  The last time they’d made love was at the coast with the gang laughing at the noise Izzy was making while she finally lost her o-plates.  That had been months ago.  Chop almost felt like he’d forgotten how to do this thing.  But her slow, insistent hands and her deep need reminded him.  His hands gently caressed her fragile body and she shivered in delight.

“Welcome home Isabella.”

***

Archie, chatting with Rae intently hadn’t seen Tom stand, but when he saw the expression on Rae’s face; confusion, followed by growing realisation, he turned to see Tom gently put his napkin down and start to take his jacket off, his eyes never leaving Simmy.  Chop caught sight of the situation and turned to see Simmy at the other table.  He stood up and Izzy pulled on his arm. 

“Tom gets first go Chop.”  Finn said and Chop turned to Finn and gave a slight nod, but didn’t sit down.  Chloe felt Rhys’s whole body tense beside her and knew that he was right there with the other guys in the gang; if they needed back up, he’d offer it. 

***

“Care to dance?”  Phil smiled crookedly at her.

“Sure!”  Rae answered, “But I must warn you, I am a little drunk, so I don’t know how good I’ll be!”  Phillip pulled her into a waltz position and felt his fingers touch the bare flesh through the keyhole at her hip.  He almost moved his hand away out of respect, but then realised there wasn’t anywhere else to put it really, so left his fingers touching her soft warm skin.  She staggered slightly and laughed.

“A little drunk?’  He asked with a grin.

“Maybe…” She answered slowly with a sly grin, “a lot.” 

“Well we’ll just have to do the best we can.”  He answered with a fond grin.  He started to lead her in an up-tempo waltz, matching the rhythm of the song easily. 

“Not sure that a waltz fits this music Philly me lad, but sure!”  Rae started to giggle when she realised how foolish she must look waltzing poorly to dance music. 

“You look fantastic as always.”  He told her and she grinned.

“You don’t look too bad either.”  She replied, “Thanks for not just staring at me tits.”  She said earnestly and as soon as the word ‘tits’ left her mouth Phil’s eyes dropped to her breasts as if the word had power over his eyes.  He groaned and looked up at the ceiling as Rae laughed, “Caught you!”  She chuckled.

“I’m sorry!”  He was mortified

***

And then he saw her, dancing with Phillip, her eyes on his, both of them smiling.  Phillip held her in waltzing pose; it wasn’t anything sexual or suggestive that made Finn’s blood boil, if anything Phillip was being overly careful to not touch her too much.  It was the casual and easy way they spoke, the sparkle in their eyes; the obvious connection they had.  It was that Rae felt so comfortable with Phillip that she didn’t notice how every now and then his fingers moved slightly, caressing her unconsciously.  It was that Phillip was so fucking perfect, and Finn was so fucking drunk that he’d left his girl alone long enough to be swept up by him. 

***

“The fuck Rae?”  He asked her angrily, “Don’t fucking go off on your fucking own!  FUCK!”  She looked at him bewildered by his anger. 

“I went to the arts centre alone.”  She tried to reason with him. 

“Yeah look at how that turned out.”  He had been furious by the bruise on her chest.

“You can’t spend every waking minute with me.”  Rae tried to soothe him.

“Yes I can Rae.”  Her attempts to soothe him made his temper worse; why was she dismissing this?  “Yes I can and I fucking will.”

“Finn-”

“You don’t go off on your own without fucking telling me.”  He ordered immutably.  Rae opened her mouth in shock, but realised why he was so upset.  

“He’s not coming back Finn.  It’s been months.”  She answered calmly. 

***

Finn stopped dead in his tracks as he came out of the bathroom.  His eyes rested on Rhys, his hands on Rae’s waist, saying something softly to her.  Finn lowered his face, ready to turn away and go over to Archie, Tom and Chloe, but he looked back up at them through his eyebrows, his mind working over the scene in front of him.  The vulnerable look on her face, Rhys’s constant, calming demeanour.  He envied that about Rhys; that he was always so calm, so capable of handling anything.  He watched as Rhys’s hand moved up Rae’s side and she turned to look in the mirror at where he touched her.  Finn felt his insides clench, but watched on, trying to keep his jealousy in check.  This was not something he could be jealous about. 

***

He leaned against her door frame and ran his fingers down the door, barely making a noise, but he wasn’t surprised when the door opened underneath his fingertips.  He looked up at her face.  She looked at him commandingly, a deeply unimpressed look on her face.

“Whisky?”

“Yep.”  He said happily.  She looked out along the street and shook her head.

“I am not your therapist, and I am not your alcoholics anonymous meeting.”  Her eyes flashed angrily. 

“You say things like this to me every time.”  He was only slightly tipsy, but when he shook his head, he did feel the effects of the movement, “and yet every time I show up on your doorstep on Sunday at 2pm… you let me in.” 

***

“NO!”  He screamed in terror but blood spurted out across his chest and face in a horrifying pulse of a rhythm; gushing out her blood to the beating of her heart. 

***

And out of the darkness there came a sudden tiny speck of light.

He felt like he had been drowning for all of the time he could remember. 

How much time could he remember? 

Eons.

Just a millisecond.

Time turned in on itself, an eternity was a minute.  A second was infinite. 

Roiling, bubbling utter stillness.  The darkness encroached all around. 

Darkness that went on for all of the known universe; forever.

Darkness that was no thicker than a whisker; a whisper could break it down.

Darkness that went no further than he could see.  As far as his eye could see.

Darkness within and without. 

Darkness pouring into his mouth and spewing out of his soul. 

A pinprick. 

A miniscule entity of hope. 

A single star in a blackened night. 

***

As expected.

anonymous asked:

When praying I heard that you have to pray through Jesus, but can you pray directly to god?

Jesus said, when you pray, pray like this: “Our Father…”

Seems like we can pray right to God the Father.

anonymous asked:

I just want everyone to know that if you truly love someone from the core of your heart, you will get them regardless of how impossible it seems like. Just pray for it. Literally that's all it takes. I have been in love with a guy for four years who hated me once and even when we became friends, he hurt me a lot and never saw me as anything more than just a friend. But now he proposed me to marry him and we are happy together. All I want to say is, miracles happen. You just need to have faith.

this is so beautiful and important thank you so much for sharing

anonymous asked:

Let's pray for Kaylor now that Taylor is back in NYC 🙏

And now that they finally hung out again after what seemed like an eternity! Let’s pray for more Kaylor shall we?

not my gif