The Sheep Who Slipped Away

Aug 18

“If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more; and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them.” — C.S. Lewis 

(Source: jspark3000)

Aug 16

“Satan tells me I am unworthy; but I always was unworthy, and yet You have long loved me; and therefore my unworthiness cannot be a barrier to having fellowship with You now.” — Charles Spurgeon

(via favrius)

Aug 15

itchylamb:

necesito dios means i need god
donde est la iglesia means where is the church

LOL

itchylamb:

necesito dios means i need god

donde est la iglesia means where is the church

LOL

(via thechristopherglen)

by-grace-of-god:

Sign Language Interpreter at Planned Parenthood Shares Heartbreaking Story of Having to Interpret Abortion
I was eighteen when I took a job as a sign language interpreter at Planned Parenthood. I was raised Roman Catholic, but I was Catholic in the same way that Olive Garden is an authentic Italian restaurant: just because you throw some fancy words on the menu doesn’t make it genuine.
For me, abortion was not a choice that I would make personally, but the way I saw it, who was I to judge another woman for having one? I didn’t know her life. I didn’t know her circumstances, and I had prided myself my whole life on not judging people without knowing their full story.
A deaf friend referred me to the job opening at a Boston clinic, and it paid well. I averaged about $100 an hour for my services! That’s all it was to me, a job to make money for my upcoming college tuition. I didn’t work often, maybe one or two days a week, and traveled around to the Boston-area clinics when needed. For the most part, I interpreted for women seeking counseling, getting prescriptions for birth control, or just getting general information about sexual health. It all seemed innocent enough.
Deep down, however, I must have known I was doing something wrong. I told people I worked for a “family services counseling center.” I figured that wasn’t completely a lie. The trouble was, most people took that to mean that I was going into the world and doing good: interpreting for families living in poverty, or families who were trying to keep themselves together. Despite the fact that Planned Parenthood offered all kinds of services, in the back of my mind I knew that at the root of it they really were just an abortion clinic.
The worst day of my life—and an anniversary I never forget when it comes every year—is Thursday, November 1, 2012. I was called in to interpret for a “medical procedure.” I arrived early, and chatted with the receptionist as I did every day. I grabbed a cup of coffee and waited for the client to arrive. While I waited, I went over her file. I’ll call her Kate. She was twenty-three and had been deaf since birth. Kate estimated that she was about eighteen weeks pregnant.
At 10:30 sharp, we entered the operating room. That’s when my stomach started to turn. Previously, when I’d read “medical procedure,” it had been for ultrasounds. But this was different – we were in an OR. The lights were too bright for the size of the room. There were cold-looking metal objects on a table. I was in an abortion.
I tried to remain calm. I interpreted back and forth, but when the murder began, I lost it. As I watched the doctor pull this life out, limb by limb, I couldn’t help but let the tears start to fall. What I had thought would be just lumps of blood clots were body parts. Arms, a torso, legs, and a head. I felt as if I was suffocating. As soon as it was over, I ran from the room. I collapsed in the hallway and sobbed uncontrollably. To this day, I haven’t cried like that since. A security guard rushed me into his office. I realize now that it was probably not to console me, but because I was scaring the patients.
I quit my job that afternoon. I went into the manager’s office and signed my papers. Abortion was not a strong enough word for what I had witnessed. Murder wasn’t even good enough a word. To me, murder implied that the person might have been capable of fighting back. No, this was a slaughter.
I don’t think I will ever fully recover from what I saw that day. A human life, a BABY, had been ripped from its mother’s body, piece by piece. It is the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I think of before I go to bed. I still have nightmares about it sometimes. Whenever I see a child around two, I imagine that that is how old the aborted baby would be now. I can’t help but wonder who that baby would have become. Maybe she would have been an artist. Maybe he would have dreamed of being a firefighter. Maybe she would have gone on to become a doctor who saved lives; maybe he would have become a teacher.
With counseling, I have come to accept that God forgives me for the act that I was a part of, but I am still working on forgiving myself. The only thing that consoles me on the nights that it keeps me up is knowing that that baby is now in Heaven, enjoying Eternal Life. After what this world put it through, I think that’s a good place to be.

by-grace-of-god:

Sign Language Interpreter at Planned Parenthood Shares Heartbreaking Story of Having to Interpret Abortion

I was eighteen when I took a job as a sign language interpreter at Planned Parenthood. I was raised Roman Catholic, but I was Catholic in the same way that Olive Garden is an authentic Italian restaurant: just because you throw some fancy words on the menu doesn’t make it genuine.

For me, abortion was not a choice that I would make personally, but the way I saw it, who was I to judge another woman for having one? I didn’t know her life. I didn’t know her circumstances, and I had prided myself my whole life on not judging people without knowing their full story.

A deaf friend referred me to the job opening at a Boston clinic, and it paid well. I averaged about $100 an hour for my services! That’s all it was to me, a job to make money for my upcoming college tuition. I didn’t work often, maybe one or two days a week, and traveled around to the Boston-area clinics when needed. For the most part, I interpreted for women seeking counseling, getting prescriptions for birth control, or just getting general information about sexual health. It all seemed innocent enough.

Deep down, however, I must have known I was doing something wrong. I told people I worked for a “family services counseling center.” I figured that wasn’t completely a lie. The trouble was, most people took that to mean that I was going into the world and doing good: interpreting for families living in poverty, or families who were trying to keep themselves together. Despite the fact that Planned Parenthood offered all kinds of services, in the back of my mind I knew that at the root of it they really were just an abortion clinic.

The worst day of my life—and an anniversary I never forget when it comes every year—is Thursday, November 1, 2012. I was called in to interpret for a “medical procedure.” I arrived early, and chatted with the receptionist as I did every day. I grabbed a cup of coffee and waited for the client to arrive. While I waited, I went over her file. I’ll call her Kate. She was twenty-three and had been deaf since birth. Kate estimated that she was about eighteen weeks pregnant.

At 10:30 sharp, we entered the operating room. That’s when my stomach started to turn. Previously, when I’d read “medical procedure,” it had been for ultrasounds. But this was different – we were in an OR. The lights were too bright for the size of the room. There were cold-looking metal objects on a table. I was in an abortion.

I tried to remain calm. I interpreted back and forth, but when the murder began, I lost it. As I watched the doctor pull this life out, limb by limb, I couldn’t help but let the tears start to fall. What I had thought would be just lumps of blood clots were body parts. Arms, a torso, legs, and a head. I felt as if I was suffocating. As soon as it was over, I ran from the room. I collapsed in the hallway and sobbed uncontrollably. To this day, I haven’t cried like that since. A security guard rushed me into his office. I realize now that it was probably not to console me, but because I was scaring the patients.

I quit my job that afternoon. I went into the manager’s office and signed my papers. Abortion was not a strong enough word for what I had witnessed. Murder wasn’t even good enough a word. To me, murder implied that the person might have been capable of fighting back. No, this was a slaughter.

I don’t think I will ever fully recover from what I saw that day. A human life, a BABY, had been ripped from its mother’s body, piece by piece. It is the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I think of before I go to bed. I still have nightmares about it sometimes. Whenever I see a child around two, I imagine that that is how old the aborted baby would be now. I can’t help but wonder who that baby would have become. Maybe she would have been an artist. Maybe he would have dreamed of being a firefighter. Maybe she would have gone on to become a doctor who saved lives; maybe he would have become a teacher.

With counseling, I have come to accept that God forgives me for the act that I was a part of, but I am still working on forgiving myself. The only thing that consoles me on the nights that it keeps me up is knowing that that baby is now in Heaven, enjoying Eternal Life. After what this world put it through, I think that’s a good place to be.

(via the-ephemeral-poet-society)

Aug 14

(Source: blackpanther6, via musiqchild007)

goodmorningshuttlebus:

Relient K:

(Source: , via afterallofthesparks)

protestant-superman:

amartyrschallenge:

I can always identify someone who has a Tumblr by how often they overuse the word “literally”.  

I was literally just thinking the same thing

I can always identify someone who has a Tumblr by how often they overuse the word “literally”.  

protestant-superman:

I find it odd how people will fight so hard to discount the experience of someone else, without any effort given to understand it.

Let’s Have A Conversation.

jspark3000:

I’m very much okay with disagreement, discussion, debate, questions, challenges, and stretching each other towards new ideas.  I’m okay with wrestling out our misunderstandings and faulty point of views.  I’m open to you teaching me something I never thought of, or to help me think in a new direction, or to correct an obvious error.  This means you want dialogue.  And really, passion and conviction are okay too.  I will have a conversation with you when you see the person, not just a problem.  Then you’re respecting my willingness to learn.  You’re building a bridge towards mine, and even if we disagree in the end, we valued each other’s dignity.

I’m not at all okay with obnoxious arrogance, smarmy diatribes, condescending, one-sided soapboxing, black-and-white pigeonholing, hyper-sensitivity, a persecution complex, yelling “fallacy” or “heresy” or “blasphemy,” didactic lecturing, automatic defenses, blanket statements, unequivocal language like “always” and “never,” putting words in my mouth, or assuming I stand for the opposite of some angle I didn’t cover.  This is not passion, but insecurity.  It’s not conviction, but condemnation.  Your goal isn’t a conversation, but winning a conversion.  It means you love the sound of your own voice, and there’s only room for one person on that platform.  Yet you wouldn’t even listen to someone who talked the same way you talk.  I will hear you, I will even read your picket sign and your angry blog post, but don’t expect much else.

— J.S.

(via jspark3000)

sanctifymyheart:

welovechristianmusic:

Jesus: But seriously, what do you have to lose by loving me?

I’ve seen this post so many times on my dash and it annoys me every time because it is so wrong. In theory, by saying “I love Jesus,” you lose absolutely nothing. However, in following Jesus, you could lose everything: your will for your life, your friends, financial stability, and anything else of this world. In order to follow Jesus, you have to deny yourself and surrender everything. It won’t be easy at all. In fact, Jesus blatantly says that in this life you will have trouble. He tells us that in order to follow Him, you must deny yourself and take up your cross.

Jesus promises that hardships will come your way for following Him, but what you gain in return is far worth the sacrifice: forgiveness, grace, peace, wisdom, strength, guidance, joy, satisfaction, and the promise of eternity spent with God.

So, yes, you have a lot to lose by loving Jesus, but it is the best decision you could ever make.

Pray for ISIS. -

le-42:

amartyrschallenge:

le-42:

amartyrschallenge:

le-42:

amartyrschallenge:

Pray that their hearts will begin to change. As they murder every Christian in Iraq, pray that they would be able to see Christ in those that are being martyred. As you pray for your brothers and sisters, pray that the stone hearts of their murderers will soften. Jesus…

Christianity has a tendency to forget about all the awful things they’ve done… I hope you prayed the same prayer for all the Crusaders who slaughtered women in children in their “holy wars.”

I am sorry that you are bitter about Christianity, and you may have very good reasons for that. I don’t know where you have been or what you have gone through. But I know this: I am not here to defend what people have done just because they call themselves Christians. God will have justice. If Christians were slaughtering Muslims in Iraq, you can be sure that I would make this exact same post. For those who profess “Christ!” does not mean that they follow Christ. 

However, there is anger and a thirst for vengeance on the side of some Christians, and I want to combat that with the teachings of Jesus. I want to remind them to love their enemies and pray for them. Is it for that teaching that you condemn me? That Jesus taught to overwhelm evil with good? 

I would ask you to take a few minutes to think about what I’m trying to accomplish. Am I trying to make myself better than others and show how perfect I am? Or am I trying to unite Christians by showing them that everyone needs Jesus, therefore they are not better than anybody else and should pray and hope for the best to everyone? As a Christian, I know that I deserve nothing but eternal condemnation, and it is only because of God’s grace that I get to breathe another day. Every Christian should extend that grace to everyone, even their enemies. 

Currently, Christians and Muslims are being slaughtered in Iraq and driven from their homes. It’s genocide. And you sit there criticizing me for evil done centuries ago that I have no control over? We are not animals. Set your bitterness aside and stand with me for the common good of mankind. 

I can assure you that I know I’m not perfect, and I do not make myself out to be perfect. There is only one good man, and that is the Lord Jesus Christ. So stand with me.

I find the cause for peace and more so, the absence of such genocides, a most noble cause which should be duly supported. I see that you follow this cause with love of Christ, and that is too is well, of course. Unfortunately I do not believe that any one group has the power to absolve another when they themselves have done such things in the past. I do not criticize you yourself for the crimes committed in the past—your trying to peace is wonderful and if only the whole world wished for the absence of violence like you do—but merely remind you of the past. However, it is not that I don’t condone how you combat the violent wishes of others with praying, and, in fact, that is an honorable thing that I, and indeed everyone, should respect. While you and I may differ on points of religion, with no reservations do I condemn what you are doing. We have the same goal of nonviolence.

I am happy to hear, friend. I do wish to clarify one thing and one thing only. I do not wish to see those in ISIS merely absolved. I want to see them put down their arms and fight for the liberation of the Muslims and Christians being oppressed. I want them changed in such a radical way that their lives will never be the same and they will fight against all that they were. And from the way things look, that will take a miracle. I cannot do that. Organized religion cannot do that. Only Christ can, and only He alone will change their hearts if they would recognize Him. For that is why Christ died; not for the righteous, but for the unrighteous like me. You are right, no one can absolve sins if they are perfect. Only God can. And so, I will submit this to you: No one can blame Christ for the faults of Christians. We can blame Christian culture and the Christians themselves, but we cannot blame Christ because He has advocated and carried out only good. 

I appreciate your honesty and your willingness to hear me out. Thank you for being respectful! I know that we both support the greater good in this matter, and it is awesome that we can set our differences aside for that. 

Thanks again, friend. 

Thank you as well! I greatly appreciate your candor in discussing this with me, as well as your politeness. Hearing your beliefs and the goodness of your cause has given me, and hopefully others, a truer and clearer understanding. It is indeed wonderful that we can put aside the differences in what we believe to support, in the end, the same thing.
Thank you again for this

I really hope this puts an example to change Tumblr’s aggressive culture into one where people can handle disagreements in this manner. This is how all people ought to talk to one another! 

People to keep in prayer tonight:

yohoyohoadisneylifeforme:

(via the-ephemeral-poet-society)

Aug 13

“If someone were to die at the age of 63 after a lifelong battle with MS or Sickle Cell, we’d all say they were a “fighter” or an “inspiration.” But when someone dies after a lifelong battle with severe mental illness and drug addiction, we say it was a tragedy and tell everyone “don’t be like him, please seek help.” That’s bullshit. Robin Williams sought help his entire life. He saw a psychiatrist. He quit drinking. He went to rehab. He did this for decades. That’s HOW he made it to 63. For some people, 63 is a fucking miracle. I know several people who didn’t make it past 23 and I’d do anything to have 40 more years with them.” —

anonymous reader on The Dish

One of the more helpful and insightful things I’ve seen about depression/suicide in the last couple of days.

(via mysweetetc)

I do not think this is very helpful, especially to those who struggle with depression. Here is why

(via to-sing-thy-grace)

amartyrschallenge:

How will you love your enemies when you can’t even get along with people you disagree with?