I’ll return to Biblical womanhood gladly. Because Biblical womanhood is Deborah being called by God to lead the nation of Israel into victory. Biblical womanhood is Jesus choosing a woman as the first person to whom He revealed His identity as The Messiah and making her the first evangelist. Biblical womanhood is Jesus revealing himself first to women after His resurrection, trusting them with the task of telling His disciples. Biblical womanhood is Jesus inviting Mary and Martha to sit at his feet to be taught as disciples, valuing their presence there with Him instead of busying themselves with meal preparation and “women’s work.” Biblical womanhood is Paul calling Lydia and Priscilla his coworkers in Christ. Biblical womanhood is Priscilla teaching Apollos (a man) and her name being listed before that of her husband, Aquila, when the couple is mentioned in scripture. Biblical womanhood is Paul referring to Phoebe as a minister and a leader. Biblical womanhood is Lydia founding the church in Phillippi. Biblical womanhood is countless other examples of women, valued and empowered by Christ, teaching and leading right alongside men.
Biblical womanhood is not a few taken-out-of-context verses, written to specific audiences and wrongfully universally applied, about women remaining silent in church and not having authority over men.
Just a reminder that you are strong enough
OUAT going a little meta.
I passed a flower shop next to a tattoo shop and at first I laughed because I thought it was ironic and then i freaked because IMAGINE YOUR OTP IN A FLORIST/TATTOO ARTIST AU
my favorite thing about winter ever
being an introvert is really hard because there is no polite way to tell someone that you’re in a bad mood because you’re exhausted from socializing.
everyone that reblogs this will get a fic (of a fandom based on their blog) in their ask
every single one
not skipping ANY
*spoilers for finale* HERE HAVE SOME SAD FEELS THEN.
Raph had never felt so helpless in his life.
Mikey was curled up at the end of Leo’s bed, needing to be near, to touch, to give comfort in anyway he could. Donny sat in a chair next to the bed. He was close enough to keep an eye on his brother and should there be any medical need, he could help immediately. But there was some distance there too, the harsh words he’d said to Leo lingered on in his mind and so he would not allow himself more contact than necessary.
- "I just really need to have you here right now."
- "Didn’t you see what I did?!"
- "Oh fuck, oh FUCK."
- "Please come get me."
- "Where are you?!"
- "I’m coming, just sit tight!"
- "Look at me - just breathe, okay?"
- "I can’t breathe!"
- "You don’t have to stay."
- "It’s all my fault."
- "It’s all YOUR…
Yesterday I collected all my reminders of leaving.
Plane ticket stubs, passport photocopies, stamps, door keys,
the slice of frozen wedding cake my parents never ate.
Today, a man called me beautiful when the lights were on.
This was the first time I realized those words existed
in something other than a darkened closet or beneath a cellar door.
I unfurled like a moth, grew so big with pride
that my belly could have swallowed the moon
and still have room for leftovers.
When my grandmother was seventeen, her first boyfriend
beat her black and blue until even the ocean and the Marianas Trench
could have passed her off as their child.
She told me the only way she survived the day she fled from him
was by holding a single bumblebee in her throat
the entire journey back home.
Knowing that every moment it could sting her, could swell up her throat
and cause her to never breathe again
but also knowing that the possibility of arriving again to where she was born
with that bee still whole and ripe in her mouth
would mean that she finally beat pain instead of watching as it beat her.
So today I hold this man’s face in my hands.
I tell him thank you, I hide the tickets and keys in the trashcan
back in their rightful places.
I remind myself that sometimes it’s enough to stay, here, right here,
right here where someone loves you.