#redemption — Public Fediverse posts

Conflicted about the pupative ex-neoNazi candidate as a Tory councillor. While yes, he has done some nasty stuff, if he has truly recanted and sticks to his professed new stance on extremist ideology, does he not deserve a second chance? Do we believe in redemption?

#politics
#conservatives
#ethics
#redemption
#RedemptionArc
#csnpeoplechange
#lepoardcantchangehisshorts
#councillor
#nazis
#neonazis

The Archer

In the high sea of clouds,
in willowing wisps of white,
an evil lurks.

The winds of the world bring
the first whisper of change,
an alien thing.

A dragon.

Red as blood, gleaming darkness,
its armor, invincible?

Heavy metal talons, drooling jaws,
acid falling, burning earth below.

It screams through the sky,
wings creaking, flapping furiously,
breathing flame.

Men flee,
like tiny ants scurrying
from desecration
into it.

Only One holds his ground,
a bow and one arrow
in his hand.

The Prince awaits,
as if to allow the dragon to
devour him.

Then with a flash,
he looses his arrow.

It soars through the air.

Blood gushing,
the dart buried deep,
the dragon crashes to the ground.

Landing on the One.

From amongst the dragon’s corpse,
amidst dying coals and wisps of smoke,
a figure crawls,
stands.

It is the Archer,
the One,
Him.

From the collection “Words at 16 (1983)”

@AlCreed will Canadian Wrestlers go 5for5 in #montreal for #aew #redemption?

#aew #redemption
Nobody gets more

Laughs per punch

than Orange Cassidy
#orangeCassidy

Where the Wildflowers Grow: A Novel

"Wildflowers grow in the most unlikely of places…"

Sale: $18.99 to $2

by Terah Shelton Harris
4.4/5 (2,613 Reviews)

#books #booksky #fiction #literature #novel #women #readers #wildflowers #survival #redemption #healing #love #family #grief #trauma #southern

Where the Wildflowers Grow: A ...

Broken Chair

I rescued the chair from outside someone’s apartment with the hope of fixing it and having it become a welcome member of our family.

But, as often happens, it sat around in various places waiting for me to find the time to repair it.

Finally, I decided it was one more project I did not have time for, and so yesterday I put it out on the sidewalk in the hopes that someone would take it home.

It sat out there all through yesterday in the rain and the sun, lonely, awaiting a new friend. A few people paused to look but then drove away. Periodically I would look out my window to see it still sitting forlornly there.

Then this morning I noticed an older gentleman walking past who began to inspect the chair. He picked it up, put it on his back and walked away.

It is a beautiful chair. It just needs to be repaired, and I am sure its new owner will do just that.

I don’t know about you, but I feel a lot like that broken chair, waiting for the gentle hands of someone to put me back together again.

I wait, broken, with the hope that those hands will touch me, I will be healed, and I can have a purpose again.

July 10, 2015

All bluster passes; straight work prevails.

#SixWordStories #redemption

The Last Exchange: A Mythic Parable

After months of grueling war, the Gavaun leaders welcomed the Oshkin leaders to their tent to entertain conversations of peace. Hearts among the two nations were as hard as could be, and no civilian expected that this would be the moment that would curve things in a better direction.

As the Oshkin leaders approached the entrance, the Gavaun soldiers at the door demanded that they surrender all their belongings. Though insulted by these demands, the Oshkin reluctantly submitted to the rules. They removed their priceless rings and sacred necklaces, emptied their pockets into the hands of the smirking soldiers, and entered the tent. With the Oshkin out of sight, the soldiers chuckled and threw the objects into the trash. 

As you can imagine, peace was not found that day.

Months went by, and the tides of war shifted. It was now the Oshkin that welcomed the Gavaun leaders to their tent to discuss the possibilities of peace. As the Gavaun approached the tent door, they were met by Oshkin soldiers demanding that they surrender all of their belongings before entering. The faces of the Gavaun fell. They had heard the stories of what their soldiers had done. At the time, they had even gotten a laugh out of it. But now they knew their retribution had come. They sighed heavily and removed their priceless rings and sacred necklaces, and emptied their pockets into their enemies’ hands. 

Hours later, the Gavaun leaders left the tent quickly, their pace fueled by their anger. As they reached the gate, they heard one of the soldiers call out for them. “Sirs! Your belongings?”

The Gavauns stopped in their tracks. Surely this was a trick. Would they not be mocked when they turned around? They whispered to each other for a moment, and then one of them turned around and walked up to the soldier. He quickly grabbed their things from the soldier’s hand, and then they swiftly made their exit.

Peace was not found that day either.

Months went by, and the tides of war shifted once again. As the Oshkin approached the gate, they were surprised to find the Gavaun leaders outside the tent, one of them standing in front of a table holding what appeared to be a wrapped gift.

“You were humane with us when we were inhumane with you,” said the leader. “We cannot recover your priceless rings and your sacred necklaces, nor the items you kept in your pockets. While we do not know if peace will be found today, we would like to offer you this gift to make reparations for our behavior.”

The Gavaun pulled the bow as the box walls fell over to reveal an ornate sand timer.

“The sand timer is one of the greatest symbols among the Gavaun people, and this one was carved by our most acclaimed craftsman. Our most sacred lessons and stories are tied to this symbol, and it carries many meanings. In this case, it represents our desire to turn back time to better honor your first visit. But just as time moves forward no matter how you turn the timer, so can we only do our best to do better with the time ahead of us.”

As you can imagine, hearts began to soften. But peace was not found that day.

As the months went by, the tides of war shifted, and the Gavaun came to discuss peace at the Oshkin tent. The Oshkin leaders were found outside their tent, one of them standing behind a table holding a cylindrical box. The leader confessed that the Gavaun’s previous gift should have softened their hearts more than it did and that peace should have been found sooner. They now wished to reciprocate by giving a gift of their own. As the Oshkin began to slowly pull the tall cylindrical top off the gift, the brightest, golden glow you could ever imagine blinded the eyes of all who looked upon it. The solid orb that was revealed must have been made of the most refined gold in the world.

Peace was found that day. 

Peace Day became a holiday, and a new tradition was established. Every year, the Gavauns and the Oshkins would gather for a new kind of war: a “gift-off,” I suppose you might call it. Each nation would present a gift to the other to see whose might be better. It became an intriguing display of craftsmanship and culture, as each nation would explain the significance of what they had offered the other. 

This tradition continued for about a century, until one particular exchange between an Oshkin man and a Gavaun woman brought it to a sudden end. The man and the woman unveiled their nation’s gift at the same time, revealing the exact same gift: a large crystal glass with a small amount of gleaming white wine at the bottom. Both the glass and the liquid shone in the sun as all who gathered for the exchange looked at it with mouths agape. Neither nation had to explain the gift, for both realized in that moment that they had the same story. No greater gift could have possibly been given, and for that reason, the tradition no longer needed to continue.

“Do you hear that?” the woman said to the man.

The man looked around, listening closely, but heard nothing. He shook his head.

“It’s as though the beat of every sacred song ever written is contained in that cup.”

Reminders of Him: A Novel

"A troubled young mother yearns for a shot at redemption in this heartbreaking yet hopeful story"

Sale: $5.99 to $2.99

by Colleen Hoover
Rating: 4.7/5 (400,461 Reviews)

#books #booksky #romance #kindle #ebook #reading #fiction #love #forgiveness #redemption #emotional

Reminders of Him: A Novel

A man was gifted his dream car by Kevin Mitnick, who he helped put in prison

https://www.thedrive.com/news/this-man-was-gifted-his-dream-car-by-the-notorious-hacker-he-put-in-prison

#HackerNews #dreamcar #KevinMitnick #hackercommunity #redemption #story

Change of Heart: A Novel (Wsp Readers Club) "Would you give up revenge against someone you hate if it meant saving someone you love?" Sale: $4.99 to $1.99 Jodi Picoult Rating: 4.5/5 (11,021 Reviews) #books #kindle #fiction #womensfiction #contemporary #drama #mystery #grief #redemption #booksky

Change of Heart: A Novel (Wsp ...

Change of Heart: A Novel (Wsp Readers Club) "Would you give up revenge against someone you hate if it meant saving someone you love" Sale: $19 to $1.99 Jodi Picoult 4.5/5 (10,964 Reviews) #books #booksky #fiction #kindle #novel #grief #redemption #love #revenge #religion #judicial #emotional

Change of Heart: A Novel (Wsp ...

The Extraordinary Life of Sam Hell: A Novel "Sam believed it was God who sent Ernie Cantwell, the only African American kid in his class" $5.99 to $2.99 Robert Dugoni 4.6/5 (108,042 Reviews) #books #literature #fiction #literary #friendship #faith #comingofage #emotional #redemption #booksky

The Extraordinary Life of Sam ...

The Kintsugi Man

A Story Told In Tanka Form

Once I was broken,
a man of many pieces,
cracked beyond repair,
so many tiny places 
scattered like leaves in the wind. 

Healing was a dream.
Restoration was elusive.
Much of me was lost. 
I could not find the missing,
my eyes dry from the seeking.

Then mercy found me.
The Great Artist touched my heart,
gathered me to me,
glued the pieces one by one
until I was whole again.

Why do the cracks show?
My question rose to the sky. 
The scars are ugly.
Must they remain forever?
I wondered if I was healed.

Wait, you gently said. 
Dipping your finger in gold,
your love traced the scars.
beauty in my brokenness.
The cracks let the soul's light out.

Where Can I Go

I wonder if there are things in me that are broken beyond repair.

That implies that people, I included, are problems to be fixed rather than vessels that can be redeemed, healed, resurrected.

I am not a machine. There is no assembly line churning out happy brains or compassionate hearts. I can’t take a blowtorch to the jagged cracks in my broken soul. I can’t flip a switch and suddenly become a nicer person. There is no can filled with oil of no rage that will help this groaning bitterness subside.

I despair of ever being present to who I am, let alone becoming better. I look within and see nothing but creasote poles with rusting staples and the tattered yellowing inspirational quotes I have collected over the years beside the well-worn ruts of habits that lead me in circles.

In Old French, habit often meant clothing, dress, or outward appearance, like a monk’s habit or nun’s habit: the clothing that marks a way of life.

If only I could see my habits as holy raiment.

Because a habit is not only what is worn outside. It is a repeated way of being that clothes the soul.

A habit begins as an inward repetition, but it rarely stays hidden. Over time, it can leak into the outer world.

A habit of resentment leaks out as envy.
A habit of gratitude leaks out as generosity.
A habit of fear leaks out as the need for control.
A habit of prayer leaks out as patience.
A habit of contempt leaks out as cruelty.
A habit of mercy leaks out as gentleness.

What I repeatedly “wear” inside can eventually becomes visible outside. The soul’s wardrobe becomes the body’s costume.

Or perhaps:

What the soul wears long enough, the world eventually sees.

But is this universally true?

Some habits leak outward. Some become visible in tone, posture, choices, reactions, tenderness, irritability, silence, generosity, avoidance.

But much of my inner world remains hidden, even from people who love me.

There are whole rooms inside me that never echo with speech. Longings. Griefs. Strange associations. Private shames. Holy hopes. Images. Old wounds. Dreams that would sound foolish if spoken out loud.

Even my kindness can be hidden. Even my faith can be hidden. Even my pain can be hidden.

So the truer version might be:

What is repeated inwardly often shapes the outer life, but it does not always reveal the entirety of the inner life.

The outer self is not a full confession. It is more like a weather report from a continent no one has completely mapped.

And sometimes what leaks out is not the deepest truth, but the most defended part. Anger may leak out while grief stays hidden. Sarcasm may leak out while longing stays hidden. Withdrawal may leak out while love stays hidden. Busyness may leak out while loneliness stays hidden.

So habits do indeed clothe the soul—but the clothing that is revealed is not the whole person.

There is still the hidden self. The unseen self. The self known by God more deeply than by others, or even by me.

To be unseen by the world is not to be unseen by God. To be unknown by the world is not to be unknown by God.

Where can I go from Your presence? the Psalmist asks.

My inner world may be hidden. That does not mean it is less real than the outer world. It may be unrevealed, unreceived, unspoken, or still becoming. But hidden is not the same as nonexistent. And unknown by others is not the same as unknowable.

In fact, sometimes it feels like what is within is more real than what is without. The challenge is the dichotomy of the two. I am a fragile glass automaton wandering in a blistering world of hard, sharp-edged creatures trying to trip me into a soul shattering fall. All that I have lived for gone in the blink of one mistep.

In the end, I must admit that I don’t really understand either world. My only hope is that what continues to thrive within will overcome the desert without and not the other way around.

The continued conflict with Iran and abstract hotel art

After a US Apache helicopter was downed near the Strait of Hormuz on Monday, the US completed strikes…
#NewsBeep #News #BreakingNews #Art #breakingnews #hope #Iran #pain #redemption #suffering
https://www.newsbeep.com/585239/

Time for Redemption "Can Tom protect two women – and save his own head – before the law is twisted against him" Sale: $0.99 to FREE by Susan C. Muller Rating: 4.5/5 (1,082 Reviews) #thriller #crime #mystery #suspense #booksky #books #lawyer #redemption #series #reading #free

Time for Redemption (There's A...

Falling Apart and Other Gifts from the Universe: A Novel "In each other they find a lifeline" Sale: $5.99 to $2.99 by Catherine Ryan Hyde Rating: 4.5/5 (9,098 Reviews) #family #fiction #redemption #homelessness #recovery #booksky #books #kindle #reading #heartwarming

Falling Apart and Other Gifts ...

Falling Apart and Other Gifts from the Universe: A Novel "Two disparate people—lost in their own way—find an unexpected healing connection" Sale: $5.99 to $2.99 by Catherine Ryan Hyde Rating: 4.5/5 (8,988 Reviews) #Fiction #Family #Redemption #Friendship #BookSky

Falling Apart and Other Gifts ...

"The conflict will not end when one side defeats the other. It will not end when the right deal is reached or the right pressure applied or the right leader replaced. It will end — if it ends — only when enough people within each of these traditions recover what their own deepest sources have always known: that the God they are killing for is not the God their mystics encountered."
Killing in the Name of Blood - by The Vertical Dispatch
https://www.sophiainitiative.ai/p/killing-in-the-name-of-blood
#fundamentalism #redemption #israel #usa #iran #judaism #christianity #shia

The Heart of Everything: A Novel "Even death can’t break the bond between father and son in an uncannily funny and poignant novel about love, loss, memory, and family" Sale: $4.99 to $2.49 by Marc Levy Rating: 4.3/5 (6,460 Reviews) #FatherSon #Love #Redemption #Ghost #Fiction #Romance #BookSky

The Heart of Everything: A Nov...