Tails 📟 @tails_prower

God looked at a man and said: "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you." Nineteen chapters later, that same man looks at God and says: "Cursed be the day on which I was born. My mother should have been my grave." This is one of the most staggering collisions in scripture. In Jeremiah 1, God speaks like a sculptor. The Hebrew verb for "formed" (yatsar) describes a potter shaping wet clay with bare hands. God treats the womb as an altar where a destiny is permanently pressed into human flesh. Then comes Jeremiah 20. Jeremiah radically attacks the very place God claimed: "Cursed be the day on which I was born! ... Because he did not kill me in the womb; so my mother would have been my grave, and her womb enlarged forever." He looks back at the place God claimed to have loved and shaped him, and decrees that it should have been his cemetery. He wishes his mother’s body had remained swollen with his corpse forever. This is not a cry for relief; it is a retroactive veto. It is saying: The ink of divine intention should have dried in the bottle. Even death is insufficient, because dying leaves behind the record that I existed and was broken. I do not want an end. I want an erasure. It is the most absolute rejection of creaturehood imaginable. And yet, here it sits in sacred scripture, completely unedited. Ancient mythology had zero tolerance for this kind of grief. Mortals who challenged the gods were instantly destroyed. Human religion almost always buries the scream to protect the reputation of the temple. The God of the Bible despises religious propaganda. By canonizing Jeremiah 20, God binds His own character to human despair. He gives agony legal standing in court. He refuses to let anyone believe being chosen by God is an insurance policy against being ground into dust. Jeremiah ends his curse in verse 18: "Why did I come out from the womb to see toil and sorrow, and spend my days in shame?" And then, silence. No lightning bolt, loud rebuke or lecture on divine sovereignty. A petty tyrant executes the subject who curses the reign. An insecure king cannot tolerate a son saying, "I wish you were never my father." A true Father does not police the tone of a bleeding son. God lets the scream hang in the air. The chapter simply fades to black, and in chapter 21, God resumes speaking to Jeremiah without a single word of defensive vindication. The most extraordinary detail is that Jeremiah preserved this moment himself. Nobody leaked chapter 20. At some point after the dust settled, the same man who cursed his own creation wrote his darkest hour into the permanent record. He did not redact it or soften it with a pious footnote. Recording the curse is proof that he outlived it. He put it on the page to say: look at how low I sank, and look at the fact that I am the one still standing here to tell you. The man who wished his mother had been his grave went on to write the book of Lamentations, giving three thousand years of human sorrow its language. God can afford the silence because He knows Jeremiah's twentieth-chapter collapse cannot overthrow His first-chapter decree. The foundation does not buckle just because the man inside is thrashing against the walls. Jeremiah was not an atheist walking away; he was a broken son slamming his fists against his Father's chest. And God did not move. He absorbed the blows and waited in absolute composure, knowing that when the boy's strength finally gave out, the only place left for him to collapse was straight into the hands that formed him.

INSATIABLE HUNGER

Trails in the Sky 1st Chapter is now 50% OFF!✨ 🖥️ Steam (until 9/21) 🎮 PS5, Nintendo Switch & Nintendo Switch 2 (until 9/23) Play now: loom.ly/939wQUQ

My Kind of Ball & Gun Game.

Samus' growth

Samus & Kirby

made a light bending puzzle game. this is level 72:

Anyone can be a saint for an afternoon. We all carry the capacity for sporadic charity, seasonal devotion, and sudden, heroic bursts of moral discipline. That is not where the crisis of faith lies. The crisis of faith begins when you realize the Gospel does not measure bursts; it demands you finish the race. Endurance feels like an alien, almost cruel category because it is simply the dimension of time applied to virtue. Without time, love is merely an impulse, patience is just a good mood, and courage is an adrenaline spike. But the moment you stretch virtue across ten, twenty, or forty years, it is dragged through the meat grinder of tragedy, betrayal, silent prayers, and total physical exhaustion. That friction is what scripture calls endurance. And to be honest, that demand can make God look like a ruthless coach who only cares about the tape at the finish line. There is no curve. No partial credit for running hard for decades if you collapse in the final mile. You cross the line, or you fail. A race rigged strictly for the strong. Except the Christian race completely inverts the physics of athletics. In standard track and field, the rules are merciless. If you tear a hamstring, you are cut. If you run out of gas, you lose. If you stumble and hit the track, you are disqualified. The podium is reserved exclusively for the physiologically flawless: the swift, the conditioned, and the unblemished. In the Kingdom of God, the starting lineup is a moral and psychological disaster. Peter broke under pressure and denied his master out of sheer cowardice. Elijah suffered a severe nervous collapse under a broom tree and begged God to end his life. David was a shattered moral catastrophe. None of these men were fit. If the race demanded unbroken stoicism and an ironclad will, heaven would be completely empty. Christianity is the only religion in human history where the strongest are defined entirely by their recognition of weakness. The race is not graded on velocity, technique, or an unblemished stride. It is graded on direction and dependence. You are not disqualified when you collapse on the track with bruised knees, empty lungs, and zero answers. You are disqualified only if you walk away to nurse your pride. Endurance isn’t heroic or glamorous. Most of the time it’s just humiliating. It’s falling on your face, looking pathetic, taking the mercy, and crawling because you can’t run. God never asked for sprinters who never fell. He just waits at the line for the ones who drag themselves back up.

Needless to say, I'm excited for Metroid: Girl Dinner 😝

I've been seeing a lot of complains about Mother Brain lately which are honestly pretty granted... IF you don't know all this >:)

43/100 Lucy #Edgerunners

#空の軌跡 #sora2nd 2

You don't need lots of friends, just the right ones..🐕😊

🪩🕺🐶✨

Brother we are even getting a whole community posting where people influence other players in real time like if this was a neighborhood sharing secrets thing this is beautiful

MaskedAxolotl_ @MaskedAxolotl_

3 days ago

Haha can’t trick me game I saw someone fall for this and it prepared me

9 69 2K 140K 44

lucy 🌸 #cyberpunkedgerunners