Never Will I Leave You

Well, a night to stay up. Not in fear, no, not in rage. Not in sadness, bitterness, nor pain... but just to ponder on the changing power of One Name. Silence is my friend for this night. no laughter, no tears, no fear, no anger... nothing, except... How much change God can make in one, 24-hr day. All day... all day, messages were inserted into my head one by one... by one... to prepare for a battle that began and ended in all but a 3hr span of time. The first message pierced through the surface... the second prepared me to learn about a certain personality trait that our Lord, Jesus Christ has... the third was more uncomfortable...

1. Chicken Catapult: The imagination of one priest can create a bit of understanding... this priest said to us in Sunday School, "I have a friend who thought all her problems... big and small were being caused by Satan... then I got a picture of Satan with a catapult... and he's putting chickens in there... and shooting them all around her, and they're all squawking gibberish and she's there panicking... I told her, directly, 'and he's shooting all these chickens, and you're just bending to a knee and cowering under the ruckus and hullabaloo over things that don't matter... and the enemy's over there with his catapult, laughing at you as you're overrun by fear... he doesn't HAVE to send demons under every rock for you, you're right under his thumb and he thinks it's hysterical... it's ridiculous!" That made a scratch and I was exposed to another relentless blow in the heart:

2. Vigilance: In the sermon, our Deacon Mike said something along the lines of, Imagine being one of the disciples, with Jesus... You have got to be on you're toes with Him... as they show Jesus the temple, pride and glorifying the handmade synagogue... You say; 'Look at this Lord, nothing could compare!' They believe Jesus is going to shake his head in awe and say; 'Yeah, it's awesome!' But, what they get is, 'Yeah... I have something to tell you... There will come a time when not two stones will be one on top another.' And if we are anything like the disciples we're going to want to know when these things will take place... we will want to know the signs... so we will be ready! ...When being a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ, we must be on our toes, because His answers are unexpected, and will hit us out of nowhere, and we must be prepared for the change.

3. Thanksgivings: As usual... Pastor Nowell stepped up to the stage, grabbed his bulletin and recited the prayers of the people... but I assume when the invitation for Thanksgivings came there was a resounding silence in the congregation(I didn't experience it, I am afraid, because I had left for a few minutes and came back to this...), he cut it off and did not continue the reciting... he looked at the congregation, with grief, passionate grief, and slowly convicted us, on the spot... "It is awkward when I invite thanksgivings and there is silence in the congregation." After a moment of letting that settle in he began quickening his tone; "Are we a church of praise? Or are we unwilling to give thanks to our Creator who gives every and all blessings? Our hearts seemingly overflow with thanks on Thanksgiving... but you know what I think? They're really not! I'm talking to myself, I'm talking to all of us when I say, I will give thanks just out of duty... but, I want you to realize... There are people in the world, this very moment... dying for this faith we confess! And I'm not saying that to make us feel better! This is a wake-up call! (What have we become?) Maybe I'm wrong... maybe thanksgivings are something to be dwelt on in silence... I'm willing to be wrong... I want to be wrong! But, what if a visitor came one day... and the invitation for thanksgivings is called and there is complete silence?! What will they think? What will that make us? What. example. have. we. set. there?" I stood out of the aisles of chairs, staring at him... I was gaping at him.... I was shocked! Hurt even! A silent whisper told me in my heart, "It's the truth. It's supposed to hurt." Within a fraction of a second my emotions mixed before my gaze... first, shock, then consideration, then outrage, then resignation, then I stiffened my lip as he said something else; "And so, instead of our usual invitation of intercessions, each of you have someone beside you, that needs a blessing, speak into their heart and it can be as simple as; 'may the God who does good works in you bless you this week.'" Everyone had a partner and I stood there, alone... and back in shock... then I let my gaze wander through the entire congregation.. it seemed everyone had a partner.... but, there was one young lady... (trying not to cry right there) alone.... stiff as me.... I went after her.... I was speechless... a quick muttered, 'may God bless you...' and it wasn't even heartfelt.... she smiled... but, she was sad... she said it was business... but she was heavyhearted... and I just gave a lifeless blessing.... She doesn't know this... and right now... it's a terror right in the front of my mind.... what have I become?

After that... I humbly went into the intercessory prayers... after communion.... and asked for prayer... strength and humility to break my pride..... I didn't know what I was asking at the time...

Came home... all fired up... masked euphoria... "Yay, great Sunday!" I said... and I was prepared mercifully for the 4-5 battle to come... but, I wasn't noting it taking place... slowly... I gave into despair, anger, rage, bitterness and vengeance and within one second everything went out... A brother had to deal with a spirit of rage and anger toward a God who dared hurt my heart that opened the door for more darkness and a full-blown demon came... I was a fool... and I lashed out; "Stoppit" I screamed... I didn't want God... "God isn't love" I said!!! I never cared! I don't know how it blew up to that! But 5 times the Name, the Name, the Name-- and it continued with a bang!Until I was down on the floor, cracked and snapped... In shock, once more...

I tried to arm myself one more time... Gotta tell daddy... It went by so quickly and loudly and don't even know what we were talking about... cuz it wasn't about what I did... It was me being uptight... anxious... and then, the passive and serene shield I try to put up there disappeared.... And I fell hard again..... Apathy was the repercussion.... I became depressed, tried to convince myself I was filth enough to kill myself, but still trying to hope.... and have reasons to stay... , thanks to my Mother Berserker, I was kept alive.... then it was in the silence I engulfed myself in that God spoke to me... I'll close with this;

I opened to a song to speak to me... and then an overflow of that artist singer, which led to a song with one verse that stood out the most... "Trust in Me. Keep your life free from what the love of money will do... Am I not enough for you?" And I sat there, dumbfounded... And realized... I've only tithed once in my life... Everyone thinks that testing God is a sin. Period. But, there is one thing that he actually invited us to test him on the promise that if you give a little to Him it will return in more bountiful ways than what keeping the money can give you, cuz once you keep it, that's all you have... And ten it's lost...Reminds me of those servants... The two who gave a little and then came back double, the master told him "well done, good and faithful servant." But to the one who dug it in a hole and could not find it... To him he said, "depart from me!". It combined the entire message that I was too proud to see in one verse in a song. In thanksgiving, we give unto God, we trust and He blesses and with the blessings He pours to the brim... it must overflow to bless others.

In Christ forever and always...
A Heart Who Waits


Trust in Me, Keep your life free, From what the love of money will do Am I not enough for you? (Chorus) Never will I leave you, That's something I'll never do. Forever remember that it's true, Never will I leave you. When you fear, The scars and tears. Remember what I have sworn, I'll be with you through the storm. (Chorus) And when you fear, That's when I'm near. Your soul's security, When will you believe? (Chorus) Never will I leave you... --Michael Card "Never Will I Leave You"

The Alchemist's Sanctuary(Edited)

I have been having a fun time today! I wrote this short story snippet... I may or may not get it published, so I might have to delete this sooner or later!

Peace out and rock on!

Arianna Scriptsmith ☧ 

Inspired By: Whiteheart's "Climb the Hill"
Written By: Arianna Scriptsmith ☧
Started: Friday, November 15, 2013

A crowded courtyard with a faded grey haze settling down in the valley, overrunning what light there was, stood under the mountainous fortress. There was no laughter, there was no play. Though there were only children to be seen, they only curled in a pathetic ball in the ashes of the streets. They all either wore filth-ridden rags or they were naked and curled in their own stench. Chains dragged with their feet. Now cracked, transformed into cold, hard and deformed iron, wearing down their walk, were their own hearts, connected to the chains. The mountains and fortress cast a colourless gloom upon the children’s countenance.

Rumors of a secret escape to freedom stirred through this prison of shadow. All heard of it, yet none had the courage to seek it out. Yet, a young girl was not only seeking it out, but was very near to reaching it. Fearful was her name. She was a timid soul, but she sought freedom anyway. When she reached the narrow door, it stood wide open, a dim light pooled from the inside. Fearful noticed as colours began forcing their way into her making her a solid being. She dragged her chained heart with her. As she exited the shadows a luminous tunnel that went upward, she looked onward to where foot lamps led upward to a far off light.

Fearful’s feet dragged her cracked heart with her and climbed the underground slope. Step after step, pool of light after pool of light, she made her way up the rocky climb. Within an hour, the slope narrowed and grew steeper. By three, the soles of her feet were bloodied and scraped. By the sixth hour her heart was cracking more. By the seventh Fearful was ready to quit, because the climb had turned into a dead end, with a tall wall in the way, the light was too high to reach to now.

Fearful sat down, slowly, disappointment clearly filling her face. She sat there for a good while, too stubborn to turn back, too afraid to continue, she wept her tears of failure, she lay her head on a rock, and pleaded for help from anyone who could hear her. Then she heard it, twelve rings for the twelfth hour-- wait what? Fearful sat up and saw that the light had moved to the spot she was in, a door was right behind her, and wide open. A grown man stood in the way and smiled warmly to her.

“Come in, child. The tea is brewing, I have been expecting you and am so glad you stopped over for a visit,” said the man, tenderly extending a hand out to Fearful.

“But, who are you?” she asked him, timidly.

“I am the Sacred Alchemist. I’ve seen how you’ve suffered many years. And I’ve seen how you sought for a way to freedom. I am that Way. The Only way”

She hesitantly reached out for it and looked at her filthy nails. Her face fell to see his clean hands. As she pulled away, the gentle hand of the man reached out again, to reassure her that is was alright. Fearful looked up at the man who consolingly looked her in the eye. She took his hand as he lifted her up and led her inside. The room was so colourful and filled with the aroma of beautiful perfumes. A work table was in the middle of the room, with alchemy tools. The stranger left Fearful’s side and came back with a clean white dress with a green sash, a towel a washcloth and soap.

“Go, wash up. The tea should be ready when you come back,” he smiled serenely at Fearful.

She took the stuff, not daring to refuse, but nevertheless tears of joy streamed down her face, “Th-thank you, sir.”

The Alchemist smiled at her and led her to the bath and shut the door for her.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Once she was bathed and donned with the pure white cotton dress, she exited the bathroom and saw the tea, sure enough was laid out on the coffee table, with the Alchemist is the armchair.

“My child,” he said, beckoning her to him, “Let me have your burden.”

Fearful had almost forgotten about her chained heart. When she looked down at it however, the chains dragged a living beating heart, partly metal, yet fully alive, and in agony. Blood spilled on the floor, and Fearful cried, trembling.

“Come, my dear…” repeated the Alchemist.

Fearful came to him, painfully, then stopped right by his left. He stooped over, and grabbed the cuff of the chain and snapped it off of Fearful’s ankle.

“Have a seat. I’ll fix this, my dear.” He said, striding to her work table.

As Fearful did as he bid and sipped the tea, the Alchemist took the heart in his hands and poured a beautiful pearly liquid onto it and whispered into the heart as it turned to gold. He brought the heart back and knelt before Fearful, unbuttoning her dress in the back. On her left side, he placed the heart through the hole in her chest and mended it. Then he embraced her, and the words he whispered to her heart echoed in her mind. You have a spirit of courage, not fear. You are my beloved, my child. I love you, this much. Fearful's sobs began soft, then shook her hard as her heart began beating a rhythm and her breath began a chorus of faith.

“Fearful, I give you the name Faith, for it was through your faith that set you free.”

Never Forget [but always forgive...]

In 09/11/01 I was 8 years old... I remember that mum was pregnant with my lil sister at the time. I remember seeing thew horrors on the screen and thinking it was playing just like a film... I was very little and saw that many were dying and leaping to their deaths...

That's why when Obama goes on saying it wasn't an act of war, I am infuriated... with a righteous anger. It minimizes the wrongs we've had brought to us. These were sisters and brothers of the human race... of every gender, age, race, coulour. And hearing how Obama says it wasn't an act of war... just is infuriating and wrong to assume...

Don't minimize the sin they committed... but always forgive... There is a fine line between forgiveness and plain out minimizing the wrong... Forgiving those who have wrong you greatly makes it more beautiful to the Lord... for He forgave all unrighteousness... He never minimized it... that's what makes it so blindingly beautiful to be forgiven and called the children of God.

Never forget.... But, that doesn't mean never forgive.....

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’  But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.  For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brethren only, what do you do more than others? Do not even the tax collectors do so?  Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect. ~Matthew 5:43-48~

Never forget, never surrender, always remember, always forgive,

Arianna Scriptsmith ☧

To the Shattered Hearts

My name is Melody Gael, I created this blog for those whose hearts have shattered, like broken glass scattered in pieces on the floor. I hope this ministry will uplift and encourage you to be strong!

I wrote this just now. I was inspired by an incident, which made me self-destruct, like a maddened robot! A special thank you to my friend, Eli, for holding me accountable. And this is dedicated to my dear beloved sister, the Starlit Knight!

Have you ever felt that inward pain?
Crying out in the tears of the rain?
Do you trust that when your sins are lain (on Christ)
You will have an everlasting flame?

And the bloodstained marks shall take form
Making you bleed and feel like a worm
Do you need love when your heart is torn?
If you do, will you be forlorn?

And the fear shall dilate these eyes
When you see yourself and make up lies
Can you break through these darkened ties?
Run to Him who shall give you life?

Have you ever felt that inward pain
Be washed clean by His healing rain?
Putting your trust in Christ, the Great Flame
Soon your heart too shall blaze, untamed

Realize when you are pinned to the ground by the shadows of doubt, and the flames of dying hard, you are loved, and you are more than those lies!

Healing a shattered heart,
Melody Gael