Hey Dudes
My mother passed yesterday and I had to go to a funeral home today in order to “transmit the remains”.
The place was totally Dudely. They didn’t treat me like a sucker just because I am grieving.
They put some fancy things in front of me that I could buy if I wanted, but they also made it clear that I could bring in whatever receptacle I want, no matter how modestly priced or where it’s purchased, split it up however many ways, and they wouldn’t nickel and dime me for any of it.
I feel like our scriptures may have misled me about what was going to happen when I went into that place. So I wonder if the scenario presented in the film was the way it used to be, and after such a scathing indictment on the industry they changed their ways a bit? Or was it pure exaggeration for comedy/storytelling purposes?
Thanks in advance for your condolences, you dudes don’t have to do that. Life goes on, man.

Yadavindra Singh talking about Sikhi. Some people, including myself might have different views to what he's saying, but its still an interesting read.
At the Hague, the Maharaja was working on a book of memoirs which, unfortunately, was left unfinished. He gave several sittings, speaking into a taperecorder and answering questions put by a Dutch writer. From the tape, a script was made. A few fragments from that unpublished manuscript are being reproduced here.
Speaks the Maharaja: We Sikhs do not recognize caste. Yet, if I must mention mine. I come of the Sidhu subcaste of the Jatts. Our word for subcaste is got or gotra. We are possibly the largest number among Sikhs must be about a million; maybe, even moreI am not sure. But I must first describe to you the origin of Sikhism which is my religion. We came into existence in 1469 when our First Master, Guru Nanak, came on to this earth. In Guru Nanak's simple, but dynamic teaching a new world religion took its birth the religion of Sikhs. The word "Sikh" derives from the Sanskrit shishya, a learner or disciple. Guru Nanak preached the message of unity of God and brotherhood of man. He rejected caste and image worship. He expressed himself against formalism and superstition.
It is Guru Gobind Singh who gave the finishing touch to the work started by Guru Nanak. He created the martial order of the Khalsa. He gave us this form unshorn hair and beard. But thiswas one continuous teaching, one ministry from Guru Nanak to the tenth Guru. If Guru Gobind Singh made uswarriors, he was no less emphatic in impressing the principles of compassion, charity and faith. That is how Sikh religion began in the hands of Guru Nanak; how it turned into a nation in the hands of Guru Gobind Singh and during more than a half century of fierce persecution after his death eventually succeeded establishing political sovereignty in the Punjab. Now our Guru is Guru Granth Sahib. When our Guru Dasmesh Padshah, our Tenth Master, died, he said, "I am going." He died in Nanded in Hyderabad (now in Maharashtra) and he knew, of course, that he was going to die having been stabbed by a Pathan. Then he passed the Guruship to the Holy Word as enshrined in the Guru Granth Sahib. The Guru Granth Sahib was compiled by Guru Arjan, the Fifth Guru. It was finalized by the Tenth Guru at Damdama Sahib which was in Patiala State. Guru Ram Das, the Fourth Guru, had the holy tank dug at Amritsar. His successor Guru Arjan invited the Muslim Sufi, Miari MIr, to lay the foundation of Harimandar, the Golden Temple of modern times. Why? Because of the liberal tradition which is at the very root of Sikhism. Even our Scripture, the Guru Granth Sahib, contains hymns written by Muslim saints such as Shaikh Farid and Hindu bhaktas such as Namdev. Their words, as recorded in our Book, are as sacred to the Sikhs as the words of the Gurus. Close to Anandpur is Kiratpur. Kiratpur is also sacred to the Sikhs. The town was founded by Guru Hargobind, the Sixth Guru. This was in the seventeenth century. The Guru lived here for several years. Now the Sikhs carry to Kiratpur the ashes of their dead collected on the third day of cremation. There they are thrown into the river Sutlej flowing close by. We have a 10day mourning. During this period the whole of the Guru Granth Sahib is read through from beginning to end. This is, as you might know, a large volume1430 pages. An akhandpdth or continuous reading is completed within 48 hours. In this uninterrupted reading a relay of granthis, or readers, take their turns on it. As the custom prescribes, there must not be a moment's gap in the reading nor a word missed or mispronounced. During the days of mourning, friends and relations come to condole. The head of the bereaved family receives them. All sit on the ground on durries or carpets, covered with white sheets. When my father died, I and my brothers sat and received mourners. My wife received the ladies. On the 10th day is held the prayerservice in front of the Guru Granth Sahib. Sacred hymns are recited and the concluding portions of the Guru Granth Sahib read out. The blessing of Akalpurakh, the Timeless One, is sought for the departed soul. To revert to your old question about what happens after death. Sikhism believes in transmigration. One is reborn according to one's deeds. But this cycle of birth and death can be annulled if one would understand God's Will; if one would identify oneself with it; if one would secure the Guru's grace. Guru Gobind Singh used to write letters to Sikh communities or their readers in different parts of the country. My ancestors received one such letter. It is written in old Punjabi characters. It is signed by Guru Gobind Singh with the point of his arrow. That letter had come down to me the Guru's Hukamndmd which is preserved with all the reverence due to it.
Q. "Hukamnama" is a Persian word. Ans. Yes, it means an order. Guru Gobind Singh had written to my ancestors that they should come prepared. We have a sentiment in my family and a tradition. When a lady direct in my family is expecting, we get and put Guru Gobind Singh's sword under her pillow. The child born is meant to start off his life on earth with the blessings of the Guru. These are sentiments. We carry on with them. When I was born it must have happened that way; when my sons were born, when my daughters were born, it did happen like that. The Guru's sword under her pillow this gives a sort of sustenance to the woman; tremendous sustenance, if you believe in it, if you believe in this power. Even on the birth of my grandchildren in direct line, it was like that. On both occasions we placed the sacred sword under my daughterinlaw's head.
Q. Your daughter's children? Ans. No; it does not go to the daughter. Daughters, when married, are governed by the customs and traditions of their own families. These customs, these practices have their sentimental value. These are matters of faith. Baisdkhi, the first day of the Indian month of Baisdkh. In that year of 1699, Baisakhi fell on March 30. The Sikhs take Baisakhi, as the New Year and the birthday of the Khalsa. We exchange greeting cards on that occasion a typical western custom. My battalions, the Sikh battalions in the Indian Army, always send me greeting cards on Baisdkhi.
I must really say that Sikhs are the most outstanding people in India, and there is no comparison between the others and the Sikhs. We are the least polluted religion. Older a religion farther it is from its source. Sikhism is a young religion that way youngest, in fact, of the major religions of the world, Pollution is, of course, coming in. But how much? It is, as I said, a young religion; the latest religion, now 500 years old, it has its distinctive history which gives the Sikhs some of their peculiar characteristics. Sikh women enjoy complete equality with men. Literacy among Sikh women is perhaps the highest in Indian communities. They are progressively going into the professions, especially medicine and teachingeven law. Sikh women can lead and conduct prayers and services in the Gurdwaras. In soldierly families, as husbands are out fighting, women hold the fort in their absence. They look after the household, the children and the farms. History tells of many brave Sikh women who fought in battles. My great great great grand aunt actually led our armies to defend Patiala. She was Bibi Sahib Kaur. She was the sister of Maharaja Sahib Singh. She fought the Marathas who had come up north and wanted to conquer the Punjab. When the Sikh troops discovered that their Maharani was herself fighting by their side, they threw everything into the action and repulsed the Marathas. That was the first reverse the advancing Marathas suffered. It happened just outside Patiala, very near my own farm Bahadurgarh which is about 5 miles from the walls of Patiala. The English and the French first came as traders, so did the Portuguese. Also the Dutch. It is from Surat where the Dutch started off. We were up north. The English took time reaching the Punjab. They came conquering the country by bits and parts. Eventually they set up their military cantonment at Ludhiana, on the left bank of the Sutlej.
Maharaja Ranjit Singh then ruled the Punjab across the river. My great great great grandfather, Maharaja Sahib Singh ruled in Patiala. The foundation of Sikh sovereignty in the Punjab was laid by Banda Singh. He received the rites of the Khalsa at the hands of Guru Gobind Singh before the latter died. Accompained by a few of the Sikhs, Banda Singh came to the Punjab. He started conquering territory. He sacked Sirhind where two minor sons of Guru Gobind Singh had been bricked up alive in masonry under the order of the Mughal governor. Banda Singh showed Sikhs the way to power. He himself was captured and executed in Delhi with great torture. After him the Sikhs rose wherever they could in the Punjab. That is the time when four nations were contending for power. They were the Mughals, the Afghans, the Marathas and the Sikhs. The Sikhs triumphed in the Punjab. They also suffered much persecution. But they ultimately succeeded in establishing their sway. Twelve Sikh Sardars ruled the Punjab, each in his own area. These were the twelve mislsor chiefships. One of the important misis was the Phulkiari i.e. my ancestors. After Ranjit Singh, the Lahore State began to decline. The English machinations came into full play. Sikh started fighting Sikh. That must happen. As we say, when the Sikhs have none to fight they must fight among themselves. Thanks to the Lord, Mother JitojTGuru Gobind Singh's wife had mixed sweet pdtdshds with amrit being churned with a steel khandd. Otherwise, I do not know what the Sikhs would have done to themselves. The British, however, recognized the Sikhs' spirit of courage and gallantry. Some kind of a mutual respect developed. The Sikhs took enthusiastically to western education introduced by the British. Likewise, they fully utilized the new facilities for farming created by the British. The latter had laid out a network of canals in the Punjab. This brought new prosperity to the province and to the Sikhs. The Sikhs became one of the most progressive communities in India. They also became politically very alive. They were in the forefront in India's fight for freedom. The first swadeshi (native) movement in the country was started by the Sikhs by the Kuka sect, to be more precise. Swadeshi was a word made very meaningful by GandhijI. It meant use of indigenous things, things made in India, and boycott of foreign things, things made in England. Before GandhijI, Kukas had done the same thing. They did not use millmade cloth imported from England. They wore homespun khaddar instead. They shunned English lawcourts, English schools, and so on. They would not make use of the post offices set up by the British. They had their own relay system to carry mail from one place to another. The Sikhs organized a ghadr (rebellion) group in San Francisco in 1913. Baba Sohan Singh, a Sikh peasant from Bhakna, in Amritsar district, was the president. Then Akali and Babar Akalis spearheaded campaigns against the British. Sikhs were the backbone of the Indian National Congress in the Punjab. The Indian National Army founded by General Mohan Singh during Word War II was mostly Sikh.
Q, If the British had been defeated, you would have treated them fairly. Ans. True, that would be in character with Sikh tradition Indian tradition, if you go, for instance, to Patiala, right on the Firozpur side, you will see plenty of these monuments. Somebody's monument is there, somebody's here; then there are a couple of monuments of the war. If you go over the bridge on the right hand side you will see Ferozeshah; and then you go 4 or 5 miles on the left, Mudki and other places, all marked. Communal rioting started in Hazara district of NorthWest Frontier Province (now in Pakistan) and it gradually came down to RawalpindiJehlum, to Lahore, to Amritsar and eventually to Patiala. I passed through all that.
Q. What was the reason? Ans. It was not the hatred between the Sikhs and the Muslims or between the Hindus and the Muslims. They had traditionally lived in comfort and peace, especially in Patiala. It was a different story when the politicians took overpoliticians of the communal brand. The Muslim League, determined on creating a separate country for Muslims, started it. And the trouble spread all over. Thousands upon thousands were butcheredMuslims, Hindus and Sikhs. When I heard of the mass killing of Hindus and Sikhs in Muslim dominated northwest districts, I said over the radio that the people thus threatened were welcome to Patiala. I made the announcement myself. I had said that I would look after them. They poured in an endless stream. Soon we had over 800,000 refugees in camps in the city of Patiala and its suburbs.
Q. How long did they stay there? Ans. There was such a clamour among Hindus and Sikhs of the NorthWest to reach Patiala to escape horror and torture. They came in swarms. They came jampacked in trains, huddled on trainroof, standing on footboards, clutching at the handlebars. They had lost everything they possessed. Some arrived forcibly shaven; some without their wives, their daughtersa human tragedy on an unimaginable scale. The word "refugee" suddenly acquired such reality such poignancy. They had lost everything; they felt relieved to reach Patialaat least safety. Each day we received 101520 thousand people. How they were fed, I don't know. We did our best as a Government as individuals. For me, it was my personal concern, my personal responsibility. We did all we could to feed these vast columns of uprooted humanity, to give people work to do, to rehabilitate them.

Hello all,
I have a professor that I wad really close to last semester in school. Today, we learned that his oldest son passed during the weekend. He had significant health issues for a long time, so it wasn't unexpected, but it was still a surprise.
I really loved this professor, and he is part of the reason that I stayed at BYU after my first semester. I want to offer my condolences and let him know how much he means to me, but I don't know how to do that. I've never had an experience like this before, and have only been a member for a few years.
I guess this is less of a religious post and more general advice, but I'd still love some advice. Do you think it would be appropriate to share a scripture with him, or should I keep it short?

I 36 female, and my cousin 34 female haven’t really spoken in over a year and even though I love her dearly, I’m not trying to fix it. My cousin “Z” has 3 children 12 male, 10 male, and 3 female - I have one 12 male. A friend of mine (35 female “T”) who is mutually friends with my cousin and I on Facebook, was hosting a Trunk or Treat at her family owned restaurant. T posted about this event SEVERAL times publicly on her FB page. I also shared the post a few times to get the word out. The post said BRING YOUR KIDS! EVERYONE IS WELCOME! I went and took my son, another friend who lives near me, and her daughter. I should probably include that the location of the event was about 30 miles from my home. My cousin lives about 15-20 miles PAST the event (coming from my house). She never showed up, called, or said anything about the event. She (my cousin) waited until the day after Thanksgiving to send me a text, telling me I’m “fake” bc I didn’t pick her children up for the Trunk or Treat but I called them to see if they had a good Thanksgiving. I let her know that those are her children and it’s not my responsibility to get them to and from events! Especially when neither she nor the children asked to me come get them. Fast forward to this past June…My cousin was mourning the death of a guy she had been seeing. No one in the family had ever met him but we still extended our condolences, and checked on her. I called my cousin one afternoon to check on her, and also vent to her about my mom irritating me. (Something we both do with each other) During our conversation I expressed hypothetically how my mom would be pissed if I stood her up on giving her a ride to the doctor to go be with Z at her guy friends funeral…We laughed and I told her I would be in touch with her the next day (funeral day). I guess my cousin took the hypothetical very literal bc she stopped taking my calls and didn’t even respond to me sending her prayers, scriptures, and encouragement the day of the funeral. I kept trying for a few more weeks, calling and checking on Z. Finally I sent her a text saying I was concerned and what’s going on bc I see on FB that she’s alive but I’m getting no response with calls and texts. Z tells me I’m a bad person for not showing up for her and she doesn’t want to talk to me. I told her she is selfish and she needs to get over herself. Am I the asshole?

I am grateful to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva for offering me this precious opportunity to share my experience of practising Buddhism with you.
I am 62 years old. Today, I can eat, sleep and walk like a normal person. However, did you know that I once was a paralyzed woman who could not even get up from bed, had difficulty turning over, and could not take care of myself? Through practising Buddhism and reciting Buddhist scriptures, I have completely freed myself from the misery of hell. I want to tell you with hard facts that practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures has not only given me a second life, but has also benefited me immensely. I want to share with you how I transformed myself from paralysis to health within four years without undergoing any surgery! May my presentation plant the seeds of bodhi in your hearts, so that more people will have faith in Guan Yin Bodhisattva who has boundless supernatural power, and recite Buddhist scriptures as soon as possible to be free from suffering and gain happiness!
1. When I was young, I opened two bars so I created bad karma, and karmic retribution is right on my heels!
I am the eldest daughter of my family and the eldest daughter-in-law of my in-laws family. Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist practitioners and urged me to practise Buddhism as well. However, because of my youthful ambition and good fortune, at the age of about 36, I ran two bars and enjoyed the pleasure of earning money, not bothering to practise Buddhism at all. By then, I was young and foolish, in the bars I gained filthy money by means of woman’s charms, which invariably created a lot of bad karma. How many people lost their morals and conscience for my sake of monetary gain? How many families have been broken up behind the scenes? How many people have done many things against ethics and morality under the paralysis of alcohol? I hereby express my deepest repentance to Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Karmic retribution is inescapable. I planted the evil cause so I reap the evil effect. The bad karma I created within two years of running the bars has brought me a tragic retribution 13 years later! (So, dear fellow practitioners, please take this as a warning!)
In 2010, I was 49, my predestined 369 calamity arrived. One day in July, my karma exploded. I suddenly collapsed at home kitchen while stirring frying vegetables. In an instant, I felt that the sky was falling, and I had nowhere to turn for help. An otherwise healthy me entered a life of hell on earth from then on. Every day, I ate, drank, pooped and peed in bed, had difficulty turning over, couldn't wash my hands and face, had trouble swallowing, so it was worse than death. I was paralyzed in bed from then on. The doctor said I had a herniated disc in my lower back. All the bones in my back were misaligned. Both knee bones were necrotic and so swollen. I have visited all the local city and provincial hospitals, big and small, to seek medical care. I almost spent all the several hundreds of thousands of RMB I had gained from my bar business. However, the condition got worse and worse.
2. Since encountering the excellent Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door, I have been practicing Buddhism hard to overcome any obstacles on the way and finally achieved a new life.
Perhaps it was the blessing from my family members who had been making offerings to the Buddha and practising Buddhism for years. Thanks to the mercy of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, I finally encountered the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door in 2012 when I was in the most desperate situation in my life. The person next door to my bar heard that I was sick and came to see me. She brought me Buddhist scripture, recitation device, Buddhism in Plain Terms, counters and many other Dharma gems. She told me the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door was very efficacious, and asked me to try it. Although I could not move on bed, I listened all Master Lu's recordings like a thirst. I was pleasantly surprised to hear cases of patients who had been cured of cancer and serious illnesses by practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures. The recordings of Master Lu's programs were like a bright beacon in the darkness, bringing me hope for life and giving me great encouragement. I felt I was awakened by a powerful energy, stirring up my strong desire to live. I told myself: I must survive; I must save myself! I started to practice Buddhism and recite scriptures as if I had grabbed a lifeline.
I am illiterate, so I had to lie in bed every day and learn to recite word by word with the recitation device. Due to the heavy karma, there was no virtuous and the high-minded practitioner around to teach me how to burn the Little Houses in a rational and lawful way. I foolishly took an ashtray instead of a plate to burn the Little Houses, which resulted in the ashtray blowing up. In order to eliminate karma quickly, I was foolishly reciting the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night, which resulted in the light bulbs breaking several times (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: Master Lu enlightened us not to recite the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night. Please make sure to read the Introduction to Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door carefully in order to avoid practising Buddhism irrationally). Therefore, we must follow the instructions of Master Lu, and never do what the Master does not allow us to do. The whole process of reciting Buddhist scriptures to eliminate karma is very bumpy. It is really easy to create karma, but very hard to eliminate it! However, I firmly believed that the Bodhisattva is infinitely powerful. As long as I diligently practised Buddhism, my fate would definitely get changed. Hence, I relied on the blissful cases in Master Lu's recordings as my spiritual support. I kept persevering, not afraid of any difficulties, and recklessly recited Buddhist scriptures.
Since I ate, drank and pooped in bed, my aura was very bad. As I could not get up by myself, so I had to lie in bed to recite the sacred Buddhist scriptures. I felt guilty and torn, wondering if this was the appropriate way to recite the sacred Buddhist scriptures. Will it affect the effect of the recitation? Gratitude to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassion, and I dreamed of Master Lu that night. Master Lu who was dressed in a black suit smiled at me and kindly comforted me: “don't worry.” After I woke up, I was very grateful for Master Lu's compassion. Master Lu knew about my special situation, so this is a sympathy and a condolence to me. After I recited Buddhist scriptures 4 to 5 months late, my neck and head were able to turn significantly. Such a Dharma blissful change thrilled me. All the trials and perseverance I had gone through in the past had not been in vain. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has boundless supernatural power, which had given me a glimmer of hope for recovery! (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: In the absence of illness, recitation of Buddhist scriptures must be respectful. A point of respect harvests a point of benefit.)
3. The unique characteristics of attending the Dharma conference and formally acknowledging Jun Hong Lu as my master allow my physical health to improve with Dharma joy
In February 2017, I befriended a fellow practitioner. She invited me to attend the Macau Dharma Convention together. I thought to myself: “can I take the bus by myself?” “Can I attend the conference?” With a strong faith from my inner heart, I attended the conference via keeping reciting the Great Compassion Mantra on the trip. Unbelievably, I arrived at the conference as I wished with the blessing and protection of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, although my bulky legs could only barely support my body in the seat. I was in tears when I listened Master Lu's wise words and saw the holy icon of Guan Yin Bodhisattva. On the night of the conference, I dreamed of Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva for saving me from suffering and giving me a new life. At the end of the Macau Dharma Convention, I instantly made two vows: to be a vegetarian for 15 days per month and liberate 10,000 fish.
Before I attended the Macau Dharma Convention, I had to take a break whenever I walked two steps, and my body was not able to move much. After returning, my legs started to become strong enough to support my body and I could walk on flat ground. Despite they were not very flexible, they were no longer the same as when I was paralyzed like a limp in bed. My whole body is getting better and better in essence, vital energy, and spirit. I was very surprised! Master Lu has enlightened that there are many Buddhas and Bodhisattvas coming to bless attendees at each Dharma conference!
In August 2017, before the Dharma Convention in Malaysia, my fellow practitioners urged me to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as my master. Since I am an illiterate, compassionate fellow practitioners helped me to fill out the application form of seeking discipleship. My fellow practitioners told me that there were so many people wanted to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as their master that I might not be able to reach my wish this time. Then, I had to wait for the opportunity next Dharma Convention. I told myself that whether I could reach my wish or not this time, I would actively participate in Master Lu’s Dharma Convention. Considering my age, it is a blessing for me to attend one more Dharma Convention. To my surprise, one week later, my application for seeking discipleship was approved. Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
On the day of seeking discipleship, I was very excited. During the process of seeking discipleship, I heard a voice in stereo that was very loud. When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see Tathagata Buddha, and many other Bodhisattvas coming down from heaven. At that moment, I saw that the upper half of Master Lu's Dharmakaya appeared transparent with a huge lotus flower. I was suddenly moved to tears. I was oblivious to the fact that Master Lu had come to my side until the time of issuing the discipleship certificate. Master Lu was very compassionate and empowered me with blessing. Master Lu enlightened, "Because five people opened their eyes during the worship ceremony, they have no lotuses planted in the pure land. But it's okay, when the ceremony is over, you can go to the front and kowtow to ask the Bodhisattva (to plant a lotus)." I then rushed to the front to worship. Before I finished worshiping Bodhisattva, a young fellow practitioner came over. He asked, "How do you feel? Did you see anything?" I said, "I saw Tathagata Buddha." He asked, "How are you sure that was Tathagata Buddha?" I said, "Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist disciples, and Tathagata Buddha has curly hair."
I was grateful for the compassionate blessing from Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu. When I returned home after seeking discipleship, I made two vows: to be a vegetarian for the rest of my life and never kill (animals). The power of a vow outweighs the force of karma. After I made the vows, Master Lu’s Dharmakaya came to help me heal my legs in my dreams. Once, I saw Master Lu’s Dharmakaya passing by my room while I was half-squinted. Master Lu asked me, "Which foot is uncomfortable? Where is aching?" Instantly I woke up and then I found that my feet didn't feel as heavy as they used to be and I walked more lightly. I excitedly shared the news with my old father, "Master Lu has come to bless me again!" I am grateful to Master Lu for his compassionate care for every sentient being. Every time I dreamed of Master Lu, he would always compassionately endow me with abundance of blessing, and I was always surprised by the improvement in my health.
In a short time, I could not only separate my feet and take turns to walk up and down the stairs independently. Moreover, I could bend back and forth freely with my arms crossed. The bones in my back, which were all misaligned and uneven, were now completely normal again. Previously, I couldn't raise my hands to wash my face, brush my teeth or comb my hair because the bones in my back would pull the nerves and cause severe pain when I raised my hands. In those days, whenever I sneezed or defecated, I felt like to cheat death on pain. In those hellish day I went through unimaginable pain and suffering. Now, however, I can take care of myself completely and move around freely. Sometimes I get a little tired after walking for too long, but I can recover after 10 minutes of rest in bed. Although it is still slightly bumpy while I was walking, if you don't look closely, you can't see it. My family was overwhelmed to see the dramatic change from being paralyzed and bedridden to walking independently since I practised Buddhism. My old father, who was taking care of me at the bedside, complimented me straight away: you have completely changed, becoming healthier and healthier now! I was so excited that I had tears in my eyes. Without the rescue of Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I really wouldn't have the blissful transformation I have today!
In 2019, at the Dharma conferences of Indonesia and Singapore, I pleaded with my fellow practitioners to be merciful to give me the opportunity to volunteer. According to the rules of the Dharma conference, I was already overage. However, I was adamant that I must do volunteer work. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has given me a second life, so I have to serve all sentient beings physically. I am grateful for Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva who helped me out. When I came back from the conferences, I found that I could bend and squat easily and freely, and I had no problem even sitting on the floor. I am grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for compassionately helping me to eliminate my karma at every conference, so that I can obtain incredible blessings and improvement occur every time.
4. The incredible blessing of setting up the Buddhist altar accelerated my health recovery and created a medical miracle.
From the time I set up the Buddhist altar in 2017, I insisted on offering Bodhisattvas incenses morning and evening every day. At first, the body was still straight and could not bend and bow. For two years, in front of the Buddhist altar, I prayed for Bodhisattvas to bless me so that I could recover my health a little better so I can use my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Dharma. Gradually, I was able to stand to offer incense to Bodhisattvas, to bend and bow, and finally to kneel in front of the Buddhist altar to recite the scriptures. I was full of Dharma joy! Initially, my back still hurt from kneeling. With the karmic obstacles being removed, my back didn't hurt anymore. Sometimes when I went out with fellow practitioners to set up the Buddhist altar, particularly on the Buddha's Birthday, I could kneel to recite the Eighty-eight Buddhas Great Repentance for an hour and a half. My fellow practitioners couldn't keep it up, so I was the only one who kept it up until the end. I am so grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassionate blessing!
At one time, the doctor at the provincial hospital told me that I had to have surgery to put two steel plates into the bone, but I refused. Because I firmly believe that with the of blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I am afraid of nothing. Buddha is an extraordinary doctor. The only way to recover completely is to repent sincerely and practise Buddhism. I can now move as freely as a normal person. This medical miracle achieved was completely relied on practising Buddhism, reciting scriptures, being a vegetarian, helping new practitioners to set up Buddhist altars, volunteering at Dharma conferences, and actively propagating the Dharma. To improve my family economic financial, I went out to work on construction sites as a helper, do cleaning and housekeeping!
Those patients who were once slightly paralyzed did not recover as quickly and well as I did, even with surgery.
Dear readers, when you see such a dramatic change in me, what are you hesitating for? Hurry up and pick up the Buddhist scriptures to recite! I am the living example, the ironclad evidence. Guan Yin Bodhisattva does exist, and She is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, answers any prayers.
Thinking of the bad karma I created in the two bars when I was young, I feel grievously sinful. I have earned ill-gotten wealth, but the karma was produced, and karmic retribution is inescapable. If one hasn't been retributed, the time hasn't come yet. After I got old, all the retribution came to me. Not only did I use up all my money, but I also had to suffer from physical illness and paralysis. I advise everyone to remember Master Lu's enlightenment: Do not do anything that is evil; Do not fail to do good no matter how petty the deed; Do not engage in evil no matter how trivial the deed. Dear readers, please consider it carefully before earning any money, and don’t commit such deep sins as I did for the sake of monetary gain, or else the consequences will follow you!
Without the merciful salvation and blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I would not have been reborn today! I made a few great wows: honour the teacher and respect his teachings, live an ascetic life for lifetime, be a vegetarian lifetime, not kill, not eat eggs, not smoke, not drink; transcend the cycle of rebirth for good and attain enlightenment in one lifetime. In this life, I will follow Guan Yin Bodhisattva to cultivate my mind and change my behaviour and never quit. I will follow my benefactor, the Compassionate father, Master Lu, to propagate Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door and never stop! Although I am over 60 years, I will continue using my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Buddhism. Together with my fellow practitioners, I will get up early and go home late to help set up Buddha altars for new practitioners. No matter how far and how difficult the trip is, I will always be strict with myself. I will go wherever I am needed. Even if I am eating, as soon as I receive a mission for propagating Dharma, I will put down my chopsticks and set off without delay.
Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door is peerlessly efficacious, and Guan Yin Bodhisattva is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, saves beings from suffering, has supernatural power, and answer all prayers. As long as we have a devout heart and we persist in reciting Buddhist scriptures and practicing Buddhism, no difficulty can defeat us! My physical changes are the most powerful evidence! May my true presentation give some inspiration to those people who are still suffering from illnesses, so that they can acquire faith to practising Buddhism, and pick up the Buddhist scriptures to recite. May more sentient beings having affinity with Buddha break free from delusion and attain enlightenment, balance egoism and altruism, and free from suffering and gain happiness.
My deepest gratitude to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
My deepest gratitude to all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from ten directions and three periods of time!
My deepest gratitude to the Dharma protectors!
My deepest gratitude to the selfless and altruistic Master Jun Hong Lu!
If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the truth in the presentation, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors, and Master Jun Hong Lu.
I’d also like to seek forgiveness from my fellow Buddhist practitioners.
I, not my fellow practitioners, will be responsible for my own karma!
Shared by: Dharma Practitioner Ganen, Gratitude and Namaste!
Translated by: Frank
Statement by Translator

1. Story was translated from Chinese into English by meaning, not word by word. If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the true meaning of the Chinese version, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors and Master Jun Hong Lu.
   
2. Author Ganen was interviewed by Frank during the translation for the detailed information.
   

Propagation
It would be greatly appreciated if you would forward this presentation to all sentient beings you know, sick or healthy. You will accumulate immeasurable merits and virtues. Saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-floor pagoda!
Would you like to change your destiny?
We will show you how to do the Five Golden Buddhist Practices of Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door: (1) making vows, (2) reciting Buddhist scriptures (sutras and mantras), (3) performing life liberation, (4) reading Buddhism in Plain Terms, and (5) repenting. You will personally witness how you and your family can achieve physical and mental stability, relief from illness and grievances, wisdom growth, academic progress, career advancement, and family happiness through Dharma. It’s free of charge.
Contact
Buddhist practitioner: Lily
Email: sunnypurplelily@gmail.com
WeChat: HanJing20210820
原文如下:
从瘫痪卧床到行走自如做家政，心灵法门创造了医学奇迹
感恩南无大慈大悲救苦救难广大灵感观世音菩萨摩诃萨！
感恩十方三世一切诸佛菩萨！
感恩龙天护法金刚菩萨！
感恩恩师慈父卢军宏台长！
感恩师兄们！
感恩大慈大悲观世音菩萨慈悲，让我能有这个宝贵的机会与大家分享我的学佛经历。我今年62岁，现在是一个能吃、能睡、能走路的正常人了。但是，你们可曾知道，曾经，我是一个连床都起不了、翻身都困难，生活完全无法自理的瘫痪老人！如今，通过学佛念经，我把自己从地狱的苦海里完全挣脱了出来。我要用铁一般的事实告诉大家：学佛念经不仅给了我第二次生命，更让我受益无穷。我要跟大家分享，在这患病的四年里，在没有经历任何手术的情况下，如何让自己从瘫痪到健康的蜕变！愿我今天的分享给有缘人种下菩提种子，让更多的人相信观世音菩萨法力无边，早日学佛念经，离苦得乐！
1. 年轻时开酒吧造恶业，得现世报！
我是家中的长女、婆家的长媳。母亲和婆婆都是学佛人，都劝我也学佛。但是，由于年轻时好胜心强，加之财运不错，36岁左右，我经营两家酒吧，享受挣钱的快乐，根本无心学佛。年轻愚痴的我经营酒吧时靠女色来赚取黑钱，赚的都是不正之财，无形中造了很多恶业。在这种灯红酒绿中生活，我为了金钱利益，让多少人丧失了自己的道德与良知？背后又造成多少个家庭的破裂？又有多少人在酒精的麻痹下做出多少违背伦理道德的事情？弟子在此向观世音菩萨深深忏悔！因果报应丝毫不爽，种恶因得恶果。开酒吧这两年中我所造下的恶业，在十几年后让我得到悲惨的现世报！所以，请大家引以为戒！
2010年我49岁，正逢“三六九”关劫。7月的一天，我的业障大爆发，在家炒菜时突然间倒下。瞬间，我感觉天塌下来，叫天天不应，叫地地不灵。一个原本健康的我从此进入人间地狱般的生活。每天，我吃喝拉撒都在床上，翻身都很困难，没法自己洗手洗脸，吞咽困难，简直生不如死。我从此瘫痪在床。医生说我是腰椎间盘突出。后背的所有骨头都错位。两个膝盖骨头坏死，肿得很大。当地市里、省里大大小小的医院我都看过了。我几乎把我做酒吧生意所赚到的几十万块钱都花光了。然而，病情越来越严重。
2. 得遇殊胜法门，坎坷学佛路中坚持不懈地修行换来重生
也许是家人一直供佛学佛的福德。承蒙观世音菩萨慈悲，在我人生绝境之时，我终于在2012年得遇心灵法门。以前我开店隔壁的人听说我病倒了，就来看我。她给我送来了经书、念佛机、《白话佛法》、计数器等很多法宝。她告诉我心灵法门很灵验，让我试试。我躺在床上虽然无法动弹，却如饥似渴地把师父的录音听了个遍。听到人们通过学佛念经把癌症、重症都治愈的案例，我惊喜万分。师父的节目录音就像黑暗中的一盏明灯，让我看到了生活的希望，给了我很大的鼓舞。在这个过程中我像被一股强大的能量加持唤醒，激起了求生的强烈欲望。我告诉自己：我一定要活过来；我一定要自己救自己！我像抓住了救命稻草似地开始拼命学佛念经。
我不识字，只能每天躺在床上跟着念佛机一字一句地学着念。由于业力牵引，身边没有遇到善知识教我如理如法地烧送小房子。愚痴的我曾拿个烟灰缸代替盘子烧送经文组合小房子，结果烟灰缸炸掉了。为了抓紧时间消业，我晚上十点后还在念《心经》和《往生咒》，结果家里的灯坏了好几次（趁此机会我诚心提醒师兄们：师父开示，晚上十点后不要念诵《心经》和《往生咒》，请师兄们一定要好好看《心灵法门入门手册》，避免操作不如理不如法）。所以，我们一定要听师父的话，师父不让做的就不做。念经消业的整个过程非常坎坷。真是造业容易，消业难啊！但是，我坚信菩萨法力无边，只要精进努力，一定会得到改变的。于是，我依靠师父录音中的法喜案例作为精神支撑。我一直坚持不懈，不怕万难，拼命念经。
由于吃喝拉撒都在床上，气场非常不好，自己又无法起身，只能躺在床上念经。我内心愧疚又纠结，不知道这样念经是否如理如法？会不会影响念经效果？感恩菩萨慈悲，当晚我就梦见师父了。师父身穿着黑西装，一边慈祥地笑着一边安慰我：不要担心。醒来后，我非常感恩师父的慈悲。师父知道我的特殊情况，这是对我的宽容和安慰啊。后来，大概念经差不多4～5个月后，我的脖子和头也能明显地转动了。这样法喜的变化，让我激动万分。我过去所经历的磨难与坚持都没有白费。观世音菩萨法力无边，让我看到了康复的一丝希望！（作者提醒：师兄们，在没有病痛的情况下，念经一定要体态恭敬，一分恭敬一分受益。）
3. 参加法会与拜师的殊胜，让我的身体不断法喜蜕变
2017年2月份，我结识了一位师兄。她邀请我一起去参加澳门法会。我心想：我能自己坐车吗？能去法会吗？凭着内心坚定的信念，路途中我一直念《大悲咒》。虽然我笨重的双腿只能勉强支撑着身体坐在座位上，但在观世音菩萨一路加持护佑下，我竟然能够如愿到了法会现场。现场听到师父开示、看到观世音菩萨的圣像，我泪如雨下。大法会当天晚上，我就梦到了观世音菩萨！感恩大慈大悲救苦救难观世音菩萨救我于苦海，给了我新的生命和生活。澳门法会结束，我当即发愿：一个月吃素15天，放生一万条鱼。参加澳门法会前，只要走两步路我就要歇一歇，而且我的身体没办法大幅度活动。
澳门法会回来后，我的双腿开始变得有力，可以支撑起身子在平地上走路了。虽然还不是很灵活，但是比起原来像软泥一样瘫痪在床的状态，已经不可同年而语了。我整个人精、气、神也越来越好。我非常惊喜！师父开示过，每场法会有很多佛菩萨来加持大家！
2017年8月，马来西亚法会前，师兄们让我拜师，但我不识字。慈悲的师兄们帮助我代笔填写拜师申请表。师兄们告诉我，这次拜师的人太多，有可能排不上队，得等到下一场法会才有机会。我告诉自己，无论这次能不能拜师，我都一定积极参加师父的法会。我这么大年纪了，能参加多一场法会都是我的福报啊。让我惊喜的是，一个星期后，我的拜师申请通过了。感恩观世音菩萨慈悲！
拜师当天，我激动万分。在拜师过程中，我听到一个非常立体、非常响亮的声音。我睁开眼睛时，我竟然看到了如来佛祖，还有好多菩萨都从天上下来了。这时，我看到师父上半身的法身呈现透明状，有一朵大大的莲花。我顿时感动得泪如雨下。直到颁发弟子证的时候，我浑然不觉师父已经走到我的身边。师父非常慈悲，给我灌顶加持。师父说:“因为拜师过程中有5个人睁开了眼睛，所以莲花没有种上去。不过没关系，等拜师仪式结束后，可以到前面去磕头求菩萨。”我就赶紧跑到前面去拜。我还没拜完，就过来了一个年轻师兄。他问我：“您感觉怎么样？有没有看到什么？” 我告诉他：“我看到如来佛祖了。” 他说：“您怎么确定那是如来佛祖呢？”我说：”我家母和家婆是学佛人，如来佛祖头发卷卷的。”
感恩观世音菩萨与师父的慈悲加持。拜师结束回家我就发愿: 终生吃全素，不杀生。真是愿力大于业力，发愿后，师父又来梦里帮我治疗双腿。有一次，我半眯着眼睛看到师父从我的房间经过。师父问我：“还有哪只脚不舒服？还有哪个地方疼痛的？” 瞬间我就醒了，醒来我发现我的双脚没有了原来的沉重感，走起路来更加轻盈了。我激动地跟老父亲分享：“师父又来加持我啦！”感恩师父慈悲关怀着每一位众生。每次梦见师父，师父都慈悲给予加持，我的身体总会有惊喜的好转。
没过多久，我不仅可以分开双脚，轮流迈开步伐独立上下楼梯。而且，我双手叉腰，可以前后自如地弯腰。后背的骨头原本因为全部错位并高低不平，如今完全恢复正常了。原本我没办法把手举起来洗脸、刷牙和梳头，因为手一抬，后背的骨头扯神经会导致剧烈的疼痛。每次打喷嚏或排泄的时候，都有种痛不欲生的感觉，就像死里逃生一样。这种地狱般的日子让我历经常人难以想象的苦痛折磨。然而现在，我的生活可以完全自理并且行动自如。有时候走太久会有一点点累，但是卧床休息十几分钟就可以恢复过来。虽然走路还有一点点高低现象，但如果不仔细看，是看不出来的。看到我学佛念经以来，从瘫痪卧床到独立行走的巨大变化，我的家人无比震惊。当年在床头边照顾我的老父亲直夸我：现在整个人完全变了，变得越来越健康了！我激动得泪眼婆娑。没有观世音菩萨与师父的大慈大悲救苦救难，真的不会有我今天的法喜蜕变！
2019年印尼法会和新加坡法会上，我恳请师兄们慈悲给我做义工的机会。按照法会规定，我已经超龄了。但是，我坚决一定要做义工。观世音菩萨给了我第二次生命，我就要身体力行地为众生服务。感恩观世音菩萨的慈悲，让我能如愿以偿。从法会做完义工回来，我发现我可以轻松自如地弯腰和下蹲，就连坐在地板上也没有问题了。感恩菩萨每次法会上都慈悲帮我消业，让我每次都能有不可思议的加持，变化。
4. 设佛台的不可思议加持，加速我身体恢复健康，创造医学奇迹
从2017年设佛台起，我每天坚持上早晚香。起初，身体还是直直的，不能弯腰鞠躬。两年里，我每天在佛台前上香求菩萨加持，让我身体能恢复得更好一些，能为众生表法。慢慢地，我从站着上香到弯腰鞠躬，到最后可以跪在佛台前念经。真是法喜充满啊！刚开始跪着后背还是很痛。随着业障的消除，我的后背也不疼痛了。有时候和师兄们出去设佛台，遇到佛诞日，我跪着念诵《礼佛大忏悔文》足足有一个半小时的时间。许多师兄都坚持不下来，唯独我坚持到结束。真是感恩菩萨慈悲加持！
曾经，省医院的医生告诉我，必须做手术把两块钢板放进骨头里，但我回绝了。因为我坚信有观世音菩萨和师父两座靠山，我什么都不怕。在因果面前，佛是大药王。唯有诚心忏悔，学佛修行才能彻底康复。我完全靠学佛念经吃素、设佛台、参加法会做义工，积极弘法度人，才创造了医学奇迹：现在和正常人一样行动自如。我甚至去工地做小工，搞卫生、做家政弥补家用！那些曾经轻微瘫痪的患者就算做手术，也没有我恢复得快，恢复到如此好的状态。
读者朋友们，你们看到我如此天翻地覆的变化，还犹豫什么呢？赶快捧起经书念经吧！我就是活生生的例子，铁一般的证据。观世音菩萨真实存在，并且大慈大悲有求必应啊！
现在回想起年轻时开酒吧所造下的恶业，真是罪孽深重。不正之财赚到了，可是，因果报应丝毫不爽，不是不报，时候未到。在我人到老年时，所有的报应一涌而来。不但钱财全部用尽，还要遭受肉体病痛的瘫痪之苦，因果不空啊！奉劝大家一定要谨记师父的教诲：诸恶莫作，众善奉行！不以善小而不为；不以恶小而为之！挣任何钱财之前都要三思，切记不可为了金钱利益而像我一样造下如此深重的罪孽，否则果报如影随形！
没有观世音菩萨和师父的慈悲救度与加持，就没有我今天的重生！弟子许愿尊师重道、一生清修、终生吃全素、不杀生、不吃鸡蛋、不抽烟、不喝酒；一世修成，永断轮回。今生跟着观世音菩萨修心修行，永不退转。跟着恩师慈父卢军宏台长弘扬心灵法门永不停息！我虽然60多岁了，但是我要身体力行地为大家表法，起早贪黑地和共修组师兄们一起去助缘设佛台。无论路程多么遥远，多么艰辛，我都严格要求自己。哪里需要我，我就走到哪里。哪怕我在吃饭，只要接到弘法任务，我一定当即放下筷子，一刻也不能耽误地出发。
心灵法门灵验无比，观世音菩萨大慈大悲，救苦救难，法力无边，有求必应。只要我们有一颗虔诚的心，只要我们坚持念经修行，没有什么困难可以打倒我们！我的身体变化就是最有力的证据！愿我的真实分享给那些还在受着病痛折磨的人们一些启发，让大家生起学佛念经的信念，捧起经书念经，愿更多的有缘众生能够早日破迷开悟，自利利他，离苦得乐！
我的分享结束了，分享中如有不如理不如法的地方，请观世音菩萨慈悲原谅！请十方三世一切诸佛菩萨和龙天护法菩萨慈悲原谅！请师父慈悲原谅！请师兄们批评指正！我自己的业障自己背，不让师兄们背！ 感恩合十！
分享人：感恩～全素
2022-02-28
请将本文慈悲转发给瘫痪病人及其家属
请转发这篇文章给瘫痪病人及其家属，您会积累无量功德。救人一命，胜造七级浮屠！！！
您想改变命运吗？
我们手把手传授您观世音菩萨的心灵法门五大法宝：“许愿”、“放生”、“念经”、“看《白话佛法》”、”大忏悔”。您将亲自见证如何通过佛法让自己及家人获得身心安定、病苦解除、冤结化解、智慧增长、学业进步、事业提升、家庭幸福。
欢迎联络我们
Lily佛友：sunnypurplelily@gmail.com
Lily微信：HanJing20210820
Disclaimer of Liability:
The contents of the presentation and answers, including text, images, and other information obtained from Dharma practitioners, are provided strictly for reference purposes. Due to the unique nature of individual karma, results similar to those experienced by the authors may not be replicated. The experiences and advice shared should not be construed as medical advice or a diagnosis.
In the event of an emergency, it is crucial to promptly contact your doctor or emergency services by dialing 911. Relying on any information found in the answers is done solely at your own risk. The translator and answerer bear no responsibility for the consequences. By using or misusing the contents, you accept liability for any personal injury, including death. It is imperative to exercise caution and seek professional medical guidance for health-related concerns.
​

I stayed in all day.
I barely touched my dinner.
I locked my bedroom door before bed, which was something I hadn't done since I was a teenager. I laid awake staring at the ceiling trying to explain it all away. I was a rational-minded individual, same as my father. I didn't let monsters under the bed scare me. I wasn't as good a stoic as he was, but I liked to think I was in complete control of my life.
I turned over onto my side and stared at the closed curtains of my bedroom window. Within my heart dwelled skepticism, denial, pragmatism... and yet something else that festered further within. Something that kept me from climbing out of bed, walking across the room, and throwing the curtains back.
Fear.
"They're just wild animals," I said to myself quietly. "Dumb pigs, like Jeanie said. Get them out of your mind. Out!"
I turned over onto my back and closed my eyes tightly. Every stray noise drew my attention. My thoughts wandered to dark places. Sleep evaded me almost entirely until the following morning. I wouldn't have known that I slept had I not woken up to Jean banging on the door.
"Get up and get ready!" came her voice through the door. "We're going to church today."
I blew out a frustrated sigh and buried my face in my pillow, which only now felt extremely inviting. Of all the days she could have chosen to spring church on me, why today? I eventually sat up and yawned hard, rubbing my eyes. Maybe, I thought, I would find the answer in scripture.
I dressed in my Sunday best and stepped out onto the front porch as Jean laid on the horn.
"Come on!" she hollered. "We're gonna be late!"
A mild drizzle started as we drove down the long desolate dirt driveway, jostling around to the tune of the potholes that littered the road. I stared out at the overcast sky as my sister fiddled with the radio. I was rather enjoying the silence accompanied by the occasional whine of the windshield wipers when she found the Christian station.
I turned and eyed her as she pulled onto the main road.
She cast me a funny look before turning her eyes forward.
"... Jean."
After a long pause, and scanning the road, she responded, "... Carter."
"There's nothing wrong with me," I insisted.
"Ain't saying there is," she answered almost absentmindedly.
"Really? The Christian station? You hate Christian music."
"I don't hate it," she said with a sudden burst of energy. "Reminds me of Dad is all."
"And church?" I pressed. "You think I got demons, don't you?"
"Well, I ain't ruling it out," she confessed.
"I'm not possessed, Jean," I asserted. "Those pigs are—"
"Pigs, pigs, pigs," she complained. "Can we not talk about the pigs right now?"
I turned and stared out of the passenger window. I watched the trees go by as I tried to force my mind to something else. My sister wasn't wrong; this thing was completely consuming me. I leaned my head back against the headrest and stared through the windshield as I thought carefully about what I was about to say.
"... Maybe I should see Doc Wess."
"I'll call him tonight," she said quickly.
"It's Sunday."
"He'll answer," she shot back.
"It can wait until Monday," I resisted.
She flipped the hazard lights on and abruptly pulled off the road. She stopped the car, threw it in park, and killed the radio before turning and staring at me. I met her eyes; she was deathly serious.
"Carter."
"... Jeanie," I replied.
"You're an idiot. You understand that, right?"
"Can we go to church?" I asked, annoyed, turning and staring out the passenger window. A few moments passed before she sighed good and heavy.
"You're it," she said.
I closed my eyes.
"You're all I got, Carter. Mom's gone, Dad's gone, and if you leave me, I..." she paused. "I'm all alone. I got no family."
I meant to mention Uncle Clem and Aunt Cass, but I heard her sniffle in a way I hadn't since Dad passed. I turned to see her with glossy eyes and her lips pressed firmly together. Her chin had that wrinkle it always did just before an emotional outburst.
But it didn't come.
Instead, she turned the hazards off, put the car in drive, and started back onto the road. She didn't say anything more— she didn't have to. We drove in silence the rest of the way to the church. When we pulled into the asphalt lot, I looked around at the sorry state of the service. It had been a long time since we had attended, but it struck me how empty it was. I glanced at the clock.
"We early?" I asked.
"We're late," she said as she pulled up next to the building.
"Where is everyone?"
"This country ain't what it used to be," she said as she turned the key to the ignition and popped her door open. I followed her up the steps and through the doors. There used to be two smiling men in suits who would open them for folks, but they were nowhere to be seen. When we walked into the church, the pews were mostly empty. I counted maybe twenty-five people.
We took our seats in the back row as quietly as we were able so as not to disrupt the sermon. Pastor Dave, it seemed, was no longer preaching. We'd never seen this young man before. He had shiny slicked-back hair and was cleanly shaven. His teeth were so white we could see them clearly when he spoke.
"Mercy for those in your life," he said, lifting a hand. "Mercy for those who would go against you. Mercy is the key to heaven's gate, my friends. You've got that person in your life, I'm sure. That person who gets under your skin. That person who walks through the door at work every morning and it takes every muscle in your mouth to smile at them."
That garnered a small laugh from those collected.
"But kind folk are not kind only when it is easy, but also when it is hard," he looked over the people in the pews. "And I would argue that's when it counts the most. W.W.J.D.," he continued. "Anyone know what that acronym means?"
"What would Jesus do," came the monotone drone from the people.
"That's right," the young pastor lifted a finger. "He tells us to turn the other..." he pointed at the crowd.
"Cheek," spoke a few people in unison.
"He's not Pastor Dave," Jean whispered to me. "But he's not bad. Good looking too."
I elbowed her softly, casting her a disapproving side-eye.
"Matthew 8:31-32 tells the story of Jesus showing mercy not to man, but to demons. A couple of possessed men were attacking travelers. And so Jesus went." He lifted his copy of the bible and read from it.
"When he arrived at the other side in the region of the Gadarenes, two demon-possessed men coming from the tombs met him. They were so violent that no one could pass that way. “What do you want with us, Son of God?” they shouted. “Have you come here to torture us before the appointed time?”
The pastor looked up and smiled. "Not often we get to see Jesus defeating demons, this is a fun passage, right folks?"
The people laughed before he continued reading, "Some distance from them a large herd of pigs was feeding. The demons begged Jesus, “If you drive us out..."
I sat up and audibly gasped. His voice seemed to echo all around the room as he said it. Dread overtook me. The old radio... it had been stuck on those words. There was no way it was a coincidence. No way in Hell.
The pastor looked up at the crowd and his eyes settled on me.
"Send us into the herd of pigs.”
My chin trembled as I stared ahead at the man, wide-eyed. Goosebumps formed on my arms and my heart began to pound deeply. My concept of reality began to dim in my subconscious. I wondered for a moment if I was dreaming again.
My sister cursed in church.
She stood up and took me by the arm like I was a child, and as a child would, I followed her out to the parking lot without a word. I was awestruck. I had never heard a passage like that in all my years of attendance.
I didn't believe it was real.
"We're going to Doc Wess's house," commanded Jean. "Right now."
We got in the car and I quickly scanned the backseat for a copy of the bible. Dad had always kept a copy in the back for us kids to read while we were bored during long drives. I found it on the floor and grabbed it.
I quickly flipped to Matthew and scanned the pages until I found it.
It was really there.
The following passages had little to do with the pigs, it was just Jesus performing miracles for people. I needed answers. I was wondering if perhaps we should have stayed for the rest of the sermon as my sister sped down the main road.
"Fucking pigs," she seethed. "Of all the sermons we could have attended today."
"Quit your cussing," I said, closing the book and turning to her. "Now's not the time to be pissing off the Lord."
She shot me a funny look but opted to keep her words behind her teeth. After a silent six-minute drive, we pulled up into the semicircular driveway that belonged to our family doctor. Jean got out and slammed her door, making her way up the walk before I had even gotten out of the car.
I put the bible in the glove compartment before getting out and following in her footsteps up to Doc Wess's front door where she was ringing the buzzer constantly. We heard someone holler from inside, then again a bit louder.
We heard a latch slide across the door and then a few locks twist before the door popped open a crack. The doctor's annoyed expression softened when he laid eyes upon the two of us. He had lost a lot of hair off the top of his head since I had last seen him, and he'd greyed significantly. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he opened the door fully.
"Well, if it's not Carter and Jeanie-Bear!" he smiled. "It's been ages!"
I was hoping Jean wouldn't bring up Dad's funeral. She had some feelings about the fact that Wess didn't attend. But she was on a mission and she cut straight to the point.
"Carter might have a head injury or something," she said, not bothering with greetings. "It's affecting his everyday life."
"No it's not," I said dismissively.
"Shut up," she said, sticking her finger in my face. "Something is wrong with you, and Doc Wess will agree with me as soon as you start talking."
"Well, hold on, hold on, now," the doctor lifted his hands. "You had a head injury, Carter?"
"No," I said flatly. "But... I have been dealing with some strangeness lately."
"May we come in?" asked Jean, folding her hands. "I know you're off today, but..."
"Ap ap ap!" he lifted his hands. "I won't hear another word. Inside," he stepped aside and allowed my sister and me through. He closed the door behind us and gestured toward the living room as he brushed past us. "Come have a seat on the couch. Tell me all about it."
His home was really nice. I looked around at all the expensive-looking decor as we walked through the entryway into his living room. He had strange masks on his wall that looked like they might have been from somewhere far away and exotic. He had foreign-looking figures on his entertainment center that were playing instruments and dancing.
I sat down on his couch and he pulled his recliner across the floor until it was positioned directly across from me. He sat down and leaned forward attentively. "What's going on, Carter?"
I glanced at my sister, then turned back to the doctor.
"Umm..." I struggled with where to begin.
Doc Wess stared at me expectantly.
"He thinks the pigs are out to get him," Jean blurted out.
"The pigs?" asked the doctor, shooting her a confused look.
"Hang on, hang on," I lifted my hands. "It's not that simple, Jean, shut up."
"Tell Doc what's going on with you or I will," she said, clearly out of patience.
"Alright, alright," I assured her. "I'll tell you everything," I turned to him. "But you have to promise me I'm not going to end up in a padded room somewhere."
"I took an oath, son," the doctor said, his eyes serious. "I swore I would do what was best for your health and the health of those around you."
I swallowed.
He leaned back in his chair. "... But I also made a promise to your father." His eyes fell to the right. "That I'd make sure you kids were alright. I wouldn't have let just anyone in here, on the sabbath no less." He smiled softly at me. "I'm sorry I wasn't at the funeral. There are mandatory conferences for doctors, and I was out of town during his burial. My sincerest condolences. He... was a good man. And a better friend."
"Thanks, Doc," I said. "I'll tell you everything then."
And I did. I didn't skip a single detail. Even my sister was hearing some of it for the first time. Her demeanor had changed from annoyed to entirely sympathetic. I got the sense she really believed me. The doctor had, halfway through my explanation, left to his kitchen and returned with a pen and notepad, which he jotted down notes in as I continued.
"This is... difficult to diagnose," spoke Wess as he looked over his notes. "I'm not completely sure you're sick," he added. "The Costa Rica thing is strange, but... who doesn't hear a disembodied voice now and again?" He scratched his temple with his pen. "The dream can be explained as a dream, plain and simple. Tracks in the mud don't prove much. The part with the radio was interesting... especially in combination with the sermon this morning."
"And?" pressed Jean.
"And... I think these are a series of coincidences," he said finally, setting his notes down. "I think Carter here might be suffering some symptoms of grief, but other than that..." he sighed. "I don't think the pigs are watching you, bud." He leaned back, folding his hands in his lap. "They're smarter animals than we give them credit for, sure, but they're not intelligent enough to conspire against you or anything like that."
"Dad used to say something," I interrupted. I looked to my sister and then back to the doctor. "He used to say... most animals are fine, but the pigs, the pigs... never let them know..."
Jean's eyes lit up. She had clearly forgotten about that.
We looked at the doctor and he stared back with a new look in his eye.
He knew something.
Writing Prompt Submitted by u/WoodpeckerDirectZ
Part 4

Credit to Blue on the Discord Server for the wonderful art of Trilvri
Thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the Nature of Predators universe and allowing creators like me to contribute to it. Special thanks to my proofreaders for this chapter, u/blankxlate, u/EdibleGojid, and u/oobanooba-. u/blankxlate should need no introduction as the author of the excellent Sweet Vengeance story. u/EdibleGojid and u/oobanooba- are the co-authors of a great detective story, Dark Cuts. I help proofread their story and I have to say that if you enjoy the Nature of Family then I suspect you’ll also love Dark Cuts. Last but certainly not least, I’d also like to say thanks to you, dear reader, for your upvotes and comments. I always love to hear your thoughts and opinions.
[First] [Previous] [Next] [Bonus One-Shot]
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Memory transcription subject: Sawvek, Junior Extermination Officer
Date [standardised human time]: September 26th, 2136
"They're going to kill you," the voice was unusually active today, perhaps simply on account of stress and lack of sleep, "you know they will. They don't have any use for a worthless piece of speh like you. They just want you nice and close so they don't have to waste the energy hunting you down when you finally go feral, Killer."
"Shut up." I whisper aloud to myself, confident that no one will hear as I walk up the finely chiselled stone stairs to the Guild Headquarters. It wouldn't do to have someone overhear me, but vocalising my displeasure sometimes seems to help with the voice and the risk of being noticed right now seems low. The streets of the city centre are packed tightly with people despite the early claw, filled with the raucous noise of car horns and pedestrians shouting into their phones. The constant stream of sound completely overwhelms whatever tiny enunciation leaves my mouth and those nearby seem utterly oblivious to the world around them. It's a wonder they don't get hit by a car.
"You'd like that wouldn't you, Killer?" The voice gleefully taunts. "You just live for the carnage now, don't you? You can't get the image out of your head! You must love it if you're thinking about it so much. Remember how good it felt to douse that man in flames? The warmth, the rush, the catharsis of letting it all out!"
Popping a juice fruit from my pre-pack breakfast into my mouth, I elected to ignore the insinuation. Maybe today would be one of those days where silence was best after all? Looking up above me, I pause in front of the great doors of the building and take a deep breath to steady myself; its towering majesty a symbol of power that makes me want to cower before them. Grasping the large ornate door handle resolutely, I give it a mighty pull… only to find it locked.
"It's a decorative entryway moron," the voice is quick to correct me, "haven't you noticed that you're the only one climbing these steps? The door is obviously locked and meant to look nice, not actually be used. Go find the real entrance somewhere around the side, idiot."
Sputtering to myself I take the advice, taking the embarrassing trip back down the obviously decorative stairway and going around the side into a door labelled as "EXTERMINATORS GUILD HEADQUARTERS - MAIN ENTRANCE".
If I had thought that the noise from outside would die down once I was inside then that notion was quickly corrected as I walked into a wall of civilians packed shoulder to shoulder. Most seemed to be on the verge of hysteria, still fearful over the recent attack and concerned that it would happen again, hoping to get some kind of comfort or reassurance from the Guild. Paperwork waved through the air, filled out with complaints of Guild negligence and spurious claims of predator activity. The people couldn't understand how something like the Bloodbath had been allowed to happen, and as a man caught in the epicentre of it, I was left with the same question.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I slipped past the front desk with a flick of my tail towards the clerk, who didn't even seem to notice me as I made my way inside. Walking past a series of equipment lockers, I emerge into a large open space filled with scattered desks and cubicles. Bright lights shine from overhead and I can make out the insignia of the department embellishing the centre of the floor. Just as with the outside, the interior seems to be a hive of activity with Exterminators moving about every which way, coming and going on a seemingly endless series of missions.
A pair of officers walk past me corralling a catch-pole bound predator disease suspect down into the dark recesses of a nearby stairwell. The suspect is clearly panicked and inconsolable, struggling fruitlessly against the wires that cut into the soft flesh of his throat and paws, binding him in their merciless coils. He flails his head erratically in a hopeless endeavour to remove the muzzle which seals his mouth shut and tears flow freely from his face as terrified eyes search desperately for any chance of escape. Hope seems to die in those eyes and a muffled wail of despair fills my ears as he passes into the depths of the dungeon and out of sight.
“That’ll be you soon enough.” The voice taunts as I repress a shudder. “I wonder what lock-up looks like from the inside?”
Trying not to have a panic attack in the middle of the station, I focus on attempting to discern some order from the chaos and locate my destination. Suddenly my momentum is halted as a large clawed hand takes a strong grip on my left arm. Turning, I see the familiar face of a Gojid looking back at me from the inside of an elevator.
The man was older than most of his compatriots, with dulled quills and grey-brown fur that had long ago lost its lustre. His build was lean, almost stringy, but with a certain worn toughness to him, acquired from years of struggle that made it clear he couldn't easily be broken. I recognized him as the gojid who had driven me back home after the incident, the only one who seemed to care about me even a little. My memory of the paw remains hazy in parts, but I vaguely recall that his name was Vaesh.
"You seem a bit lost there kid," Vaesh releases his grip and directs me into the elevator with him, "let me help you out. The Chief’s office and our muster area are upstairs."
"Thank you," I say awkwardly as the doors close and the elevator lurches upwards, "I don't really know where I'm going."
"I get the feeling that you don’t just mean your struggle to find the breakroom.” Vaesh gives me a knowing look. “The Protector guides all on their journey through life." Vaesh recites with reverence. "None of us really know where we're going in life, but I'm pretty sure I can help find you a desk at least!" Vaesh gives a small chuckle that sends a rippling wave down his spines. "You're that new hire Intalran brought in the other paw right? Sawvek was it?"
"The Protector graces those who shield others." I respond in kind with a recitation of my own. "I appreciate you helping me… and for driving me home the other paw. Yes, my name is Sawvek. Intalran… didn’t really give me much choice in the matter."
"A fine verse that one is." Vaesh considers me for a moment, looking me over. "Not very many Venlil who follow the Protector over their own Stars. Surely a lad who knows his proverbs can’t be too bad, even if it was Intalran who recruited you. Did you grow up on the Cradle or something?"
"My Father converted while on deployment near the Cradle." I look at the floor and curl my tail around my leg nervously, "My mother says that it made him feel more connected to his comrades, and that he found its tenants helpful during his moments of crisis… When my brother and I were born he decided to raise us in the faith... It’s what I know.”
“He sounds like a fine man,” Vaesh pats my back approvingly, “You’ll have to introduce me!”
“I wish I could,” my voice fills with remorse, “but he was killed in action almost a decade ago now.”
“Oh…” Vaesh says soberly as we step out of the elevator and into a long hallway, “My condolences for your loss. I’m certain that the Protector guided your father’s soul to his garden personally.” Vaesh stops in front of a series of portraits lining the wall, each marked with a name, a rank, and two dates. “I understand that loss can be a difficult thing to bear at times.”
“Thank you, but I’m fine.” I slow my pace, taking note of the portraits as I go. “It was a long time ago. I was only a child. I don’t even remember him all that well anymore.”
“All the more dreadful for it,” Vaesh returns to following close behind, pausing occasionally to inspect a portrait, “to be a child without a father to guide you is a terrible thing indeed.”
“I’m ok, really.” I attempt to reassure him with a flick of my tail. “I had my mother to look after me and my brother to look up to…”
I stop at the end of the portrait wall. Most pictures in the collection were decades, if not centuries old and the vast display had clearly been built up slowly over the years to honour the fallen; all those lost since the founding of the city's guildhouse. At the end of the hallway, there were five portraits, newly printed and hung in flashy factory fresh frames with the current year engraved into their base. My eyes locked with one in particular and I stopped, transfixed on the spot.
The portrait was of a venlil woman with wool as black as night, bearing the scars of a heavy combat veteran. Her eyes stood out as stern and demanding, if not outright mean or even cruel, and in their presence I found myself frozen beneath the judgement of the honoured dead. Around her chest she wore a white dress sash embroidered with gold and pinned with the medal of a Prestige Exterminator. The label on her frame appropriately read as “Vrienna - Prestige Exterminator” and I was left to ponder what circumstances had led to such a decorated officer meeting her end. There had been no arxur raids in the Valley this year that I was aware of.
“Ah, Vrienna,” Vaesh takes notice of my interest, “remember her when you think about taking shortcuts with your routine inspections. She died alongside the rest of her command squad responding to a report of a Kelach spotted in the industrial district. As best we can tell from the aftermath, their suits were compromised and they became trapped inside a burning building during their deployment. They all burned to death slowly inside their faulty equipment.” Vaesh makes the sign of the Protector, warding off evil with his claws. “She wasn’t popular here at the home office and I doubt you’ll find many who’ll mourn her passing, but she led the tactical response unit with expertise that will be sorely missed. No sapient deserves the death reserved for monsters… Not even her.”
I peel my eyes away from the hypnotic and unnerving face of the deceased that holds me enraptured, aided by the sound of angry shouting down around the corner, and venture around the bend to investigate its source. Three men, a yotul, a gojid, and a venlil, stand huddled around an instant tea machine that sputters and sparks sending thin trails of smoke towards the ceiling.
"How is it that you can be such a primitive that you can't even fix a damn tea machine?" The gojid pokes the chest of the yotul with an extended claw to emphasise the rancour of his point. "I didn't even know it was possible to be that incompetent! What the brahk do we even pay you for?"
The gojid was unseemly and out of shape with a large beer gut protruding from his torso which made it clear he held little regard for his physical training. Despite being of only average height for his species he was still larger than the yotul beside him and made sure to use every bit of that advantage to leer down at the primitive with arms crossed in disapproval.
The yotul, in contrast, was short, barely coming up to the gojids chest. Despite being outnumbered and physically outclassed however, the backwater uplift stood his ground defiantly with fists clenched tightly at his side, looking up at the gojid without a trace of fear.
"Fixing every little thing that breaks around here isn't my job Turlid!" The primitive seems feisty and combative, talking back to the gojid with unrestrained rage. "I manage the comm system, dispatch, and help maintain equipment. I'm not your personal brahking errand boy! If it's so easy then why don't you two fix it? They don't pay me enough around here to put up with all your speh!"
"You should consider yourself lucky that we even let a primitive like you touch our equipment, Jonsco." The venlil speaks up in a pompous, superior tone reeking of money and a privileged background. "You do a piss-poor job of it as it is. We probably could have stopped the stampede in half the time if we had someone actually competent coordinating dispatch."
The venlil is handsome with an attractive physique and short-cut grey wool. His demeanour is exacting and haughty, giving me the impression that he'd never truly had to work for anything in his life, simply skirting by on natural talent, good looks, and daddy's money. I doubt that he’d ever been denied anything before in his life and I immediately decided that I dislike him.
"Can it Bikim!" Jonsco fires back. "I'd tell you to try it for yourself so I can have a good laugh at how badly you brahk it up, but I know playing hero is the only thing that keeps that fragile ego of yours intact after your wife decided she'd rather mate with a predator than you!"
"Don't you brahking test me you filthy uplift…" Bikim rests a paw on the flamer holstered at his hip…only to casually move it aside as he's nudged in the ribs by Turlid who finally notices our presence, "...One of these days primitive…you're gonna push someone too far…"
"Try me sometime Bikim," Jonsco scoffs, "just you try it and see what happens…" He leaves the tension hanging in the air as he storms off.
“So Vaesh,” Turlid turns his attention towards my friendly old guide, “I can see that you’re throwing your lot in with the predators again, you decrepit old heretic.”
For a moment I’m confused…until I realise he means me.
“How dare he say that to our face!” The voice screams in my mind, over exaggerated and dripping with sarcasm as rage battles against guilt. “We should burn him alive! That would prove him wrong wouldn’t it, Killer?”
“Sawvek is a fine young man and I won’t have you speaking about him that way.” Vaesh comes to my defence like a champion unheralded. “If you have something to say, Turlid, you can say it to me.”
“Haven’t you read his file?” Turlid responds sarcastically with faux shock. “This kid’s so diseased he puts Akrim and his brother to shame. His whole brahking family has a rap sheet and he’s the worst offender. The fact that Intalran plucked him off the streets right after he killed a man? Well now, that tells you everything you need to know about him, doesn’t it? From what I hear, he was enjoying the opportunity to kill a man without any consequences quite a bit. He belongs in the brig downstairs, not up here with us. With the way things are going around here though, I’m betting he’ll get promoted into the PRED squad with the other tainted sadists soon enough.”
“You know the tests are flawed, Turlid,” Vaesh's spines bristle in irritation, “and if this department keeps insisting on loosening the standards for a diagnosis then we're going to wind up just like Dawn Creek! If you just give the new kid a chance, if you just talk to him, you'll see that he's a good kid who isn't a risk to anyone. You might even like him."
"I'm glad to hear you say that the tests are flawed actually," Turlid says to my surprise, "because for once we agree. The tests have to be flawed if they're allowing an obvious predator race to slip through the screening. The scriptures are clear. No predator shall be permitted to live." Turlids words send a shiver down my spine as I consider my place in his worldview.
"This is the same argument we've had a thousand times, Turlid." Vaesh replies, suddenly weary and tired, "The scriptures need reform! Clearly we've been misinterpreting the words of the Protector this entire time. The humans are proof of our folly. They eat meat, yes, but they are no predators. They are not an embodiment of evil like a shadestalker or an arxur. The Protector doesn't make mistakes, only people do. He must have been speaking to the nature of a predatory soul, not simply the body one was born into."
"You hear that Sawvek?" The voice whispers in my ear. "Even your new friend thinks you should be put down. You've done such a cunning job at deceiving him that he doesn't even realise that you are the predatory soul he's speaking of." The voice cackles away, grating at my nerves.
"I'm done with you Vaesh," Turlids words break me out of my own thoughts, "I don't need to stand here and listen to your sacrilege. Keep your little predator on a leash away from me." He waves his friend forward as he leaves. "Come on Bikim, let's go see if they've got a machine downstairs that's working."
“I’m sorry you had to listen to that, Sawvek,” Vaesh sighs and we carry on down the hall, “a lot of your new co-workers can be… less than agreeable. It’s just something you’ll need to learn to deal with.”
“It’s alright.” I lie, wondering how long I’ll be able to hold back my temper in such a hostile environment. “How common are predator disease cases… among officers…?” I ask with trepidation as I look around at herds of co-workers staring at me from every corner of the room.
“More common than most would like to admit.” Vaesh replies sadly. “Being an Exterminator requires you to act against your natural instincts for self-preservation, facing down your fears and choosing to fight rather than flee. That’s a lot easier for someone to do when they have a touch of a predatory nature inside of them already, and most officers have predatory tendencies to some degree, though obviously it would be in your best interest to never say so to their faces.” Vaesh pauses and thinks for a moment, weighing whether or not to reveal his secretive thoughts before finally relenting. “Those tendencies seem to get more… apparent among the higher ranks. Officially, the department doesn’t employ anyone with a certified diagnosis, but…” Vaesh looks aside conspiratorially, whispering his words to my ear, “I would avoid the members of the tactical unit if I were you. The PRED team always seems to get filled with the most… borderline officers.”
I flick my tail in silent agreement, too tense for words and feeling myself under scrutiny from invisible eyes and ears.
“I think this is where I’ll be leaving you for now Sawvek,” Vaesh halts in front of an office door bearing the symbol of Chief Exterminator and from inside I can hear muffled shouting as someone was clearly in the middle of a reprimand, “you should stop in and let Chief Orviks know that you’re here. He’ll direct you from there.”
“Thank you again for everything, Vaesh.” I wave goodbye with my tail as he turns and leaves.
I take a deep breath and knock on the door firmly, facing my destiny head-on. Crossing the threshold, I emerge into a small office decorated with numerous awards and accolades praising the heroics, leadership, and managerial acumen of the illustrious Chief Orviks. The reality I saw with my own eyes however was less than impressive. The farsul in front of me seated behind an immense and imposing desk was long in years, short in stature, and round in shape. He looked like the type of career man far better suited to office work than field work and I could only speculate at how long it had been since he had patrolled the streets himself. I imagine he would make for a convenient and tasty snack for any large predator these days, regardless of past achievement.
“We’re not done talking about this Intalran!” The Chief slams a paw down forcefully on his desk while he concludes his reprimand of my recruiter who sits perched on a short stand in front of him. “You will be hearing from me about this whole debacle again! Violating procedures and playing politics with the media is a threat to the department and the careers of everyone who works here!”
“What a blowhard,” the voice whispers into my ear, “clearly the only career he’s worried about is his own. I wouldn’t put it past him to feed us to the predators himself if it would help him climb another rung higher on the ladder.”
“I’m half-tempted to promote you so you can be the PRED team's problem, but I get the feeling you’d see that as more of a reward than a punishment!” The belligerent little farsul keeps up his tirade, casting only a brief glance in my direction as I shut the door behind me.
“I’m sorry Chief,” Intalran attempts to get a word in edgewise, “but my brother-”
“I don’t give a damn about your brother, Intalran!” Chief Orviks allows no interruptions in his chambers. “You’re the problem I’m trying to deal with right now. Your brother is dead. Just because we haven’t found the body yet doesn’t mean speh. The only reason his face isn’t decorating the memorial wall outside is because you keep throwing a fit every time we try to put it up! You need to face facts and focus on doing your damn job rather than trying to get yourself killed, raising tensions with the humans, and causing panic in the civilian populace!”
“I understand Chief,” Intalran lowers his head and pulls his wings inward, making himself small in a gesture of respect and submission, “may I be dismissed now?”
“Not yet Intalran,” Chief Orviks gestures towards me, beckoning me closer, “there’s still the matter of your new recruit.”
“Um, yes sir, my name is Sawvek,” I start to say, “nice to meet-”
“Stand at attention and don’t speak unless spoken to.” Chief Orvik commands curtly.
“Yes, sir!” At once I stand at attention with my paws at my side, as stiff as a board.
“You’re the one who decided to recruit him, Intalran,” Chief Orvik continues, “so I’m making it your responsibility to see to it that he’s trained, equipped, and controlled. The last thing this department needs are more predator disease patients in our ranks, and yet that’s exactly what you’ve brought us. If he brahks up, Intalran, I’m putting it on your head. With any luck he might eventually be able to do some good with the PRED team.”
“Yes Chief,” Intalran acquiesces without resistance, seemingly accepting that he’ll need to take his lumps to make it through the meeting, “I won’t let you down.”
“See to it that you don’t.” The Chief at last seems mollified with the last of his anger expended. “Take the kid with you to the meeting room. I’m about to call an assembly to make an announcement.” The Chief looks over a pile of papers on his desk and slides a microphone over to himself to make the call over the PA system, before noticing us still in his office. “Dismissed.”
Intalran and I waste no time in vacating the office and make our way quickly to the meeting room as the Chiefs voice blasts over the intercom calling all available personnel for a brief announcement.
“So… What do you think the announcement is gonna be about?” I ask Intalran, awkwardly attempting to break the tension as people slowly trickle into the venue.
“I bet Orviks is finally gonna announce the next commander for the PRED team!” Intalran seems genuinely excited with a shine in his eye and a trill in his speech. “They’ve been struggling for a while now ever since Vrienna died. It’s far past time they brought in new leadership. I heard a rumour that we’re gonna be getting another Prestige Exterminator transferring posts from outside the city!”
“Any idea who it is?” The room starts to fill with officers begrudgingly making their way inside for the announcement.
“There are a couple of candidates,” Intalran starts counting off numbers on his claws before deciding against it, “but my bet is on Prestige Officer Glagrig.” Intalrans voice fills with the kind of awestruck reverence reserved for childhood heroes. I, however, was considerably less impressed.
“Who’s that?”
“Who is that?” Intalran seems incredulous that I wasn’t intimately familiar with the object of his worship. “Only the greatest Extermination Officer to grace the office since the Builder himself! The man is a living legend! I heard that he once killed an entire pack of shadestalkers with his bare claws! He can hit a target with kinetics at a hundred paces every time! When his commanding officer was killed in the raid of Harvest Vale the then Junior Officer Glagrig took charge, rallying the remnants of the local Guild and put the arxur into full retreat by the end of the paw! One look in his eyes and even an arxur will know what it feels like to know fear, running away like the prey they terrorise!”
Frankly, the stories Intalran told about Prestige Officer Glagrig were unbelievable, growing larger and larger in scope, more fantastical in scale until it was just plain impossible. Intalran seemed to believe every word however, so I kept silent, nodding my head and flicking my tail in agreement while the krakotl went on and on about the wondrous exploits of Prestige Officer Glagrig. I was quickly growing weary of it and wished that I had never asked to begin with.
The slow trickle of officers seems to have reached its end, with the room filled almost to the brim. One final group entered into the back with an unusual degree of coordination and precision in sharp contrast to the rest of the rabble absentmindedly shuffling about. On their chests they wore bright white sashes, kept bleached and pristine, with a distinctive pin upon their chest. It was the image of an arxur skull, wreathed with flame and struck through the centre with a long dagger that pierced clean out the other side. Looking at the officers I had the strangest sense that something was somehow off about them, somehow wrong. That was when I knew for certain that I was seeing the PRED team for the first time.
Chief Orviks entered the room and walked up onto a small stage with a speaker's podium. Following closely behind him was a venlil old enough to be my father with wool as dark as the void of space which seemed to suck in the light from the room like a black hole, darkening the area upon his entry. He was tall for a venlil and powerfully built with a body that seemed conditioned for and hardened by combat. An elaborate white dress sash embroidered with gold rested across his chest bearing the medal of a Prestige Exterminator alongside the pin of the PRED team. Around his waist was a belt, fully laden with flamer, kinetic sidearm, and even a large dagger. At a glance I could tell that these were no mere ceremonial weapons and had likely taken the lives of countless predators.
He strode through the crowd with a languid and smooth gait that seemed to me almost predatory, sending quiet murmurs rippling out through the crowd in waves as officers made way for the imposing figure. As he climbed the stage he looked out at us and I could finally see the man in full. The most striking feature about him were his eyes, cold and empty, they looked at me and through me as he surveyed the crowd. These were the eyes of a killer, a true predator taken venlil-form, who revelled in the shedding of blood and the taking of lives. His were evil eyes which filled me with a most disturbing sense of deja-vu, for I had seen their intensity matched only once before. Dread filled my chest with its cold weight and as I looked to Intalran I could see that he was struggling not to burst with excitement, covering his beak with his wings and while adulation shone in his eyes.
“Thank you to everyone who could make today's announcement.” Chief Orviks began. “For some time now the department has been struggling to cope with the loss of five promising young members from our Precision Rapid Engagement Decontamination team, including its commanding officer the late Prestige Officer Vrienna.” Chief Orvik seems to pause for dramatic effect, allowing his words to take hold of the audience. “The incident on Builders Lane just the other paw has once again demonstrated the need for a rapid-response tactical unit trained and organised to deal with active and emergent threats to the general public under adverse conditions. To that end, I would like to announce that the Twilight Valley PRED team has new leadership under the command of Prestige Exterminator Glagrig who was so generous as to request a transfer to take over the responsibilities of his late wife.”
Chief Orviks stands aside, passing the podium position to Prestige Officer Glagrig.
“Thank you, Chief Orviks. I promise to be brief.” His voice is deep and powerful, carrying a weight and command unusual for a venlil. “I am honoured to accept this new station and will do my utmost to ensure the success of this Guild-house and the safety of the citizens of Twilight Valley. Coming here, I can see the handiwork of my predecessor on display, but I can also see the disgraceful state it has fallen into in her absence. No more. From here on out I will be personally overseeing the complete revamp of Twilight Valley’s Extermination forces and raising the standards for excellence required from the men and women of such an esteemed office. My efforts will be concentrated on the tactical unit I have been assigned to oversee, but I expect each and every one of you to do your best to live up to their example. Negligence, incompetence, and laziness will no longer be tolerated in my unit or any unit. Twilight Valley has become an active nesting ground for predators, requiring constant surveillance and diligence to contain and control. If you want to protect your city, your homes, your families, and your very lives then you must strive to do your best every day to combat this threat. You must fight to be better than ever before or else we will all succumb to this insidious human menace. That is all.”
Prestige Officer Glagrig concedes the podium once more to Chief Orviks, falling back into the shadows beyond the spotlight.
“Thank you for your motivating speech, Commander Glagrig.” The Chief's voice seems small and frail in contrast to Glagrig, making it clear to those of us in attendance who really held the higher authority between the two. “That concludes today's announcement. You may all return to your stations. Dismissed.”
The assembly departed quickly with few wanting to spend more time in the meeting than they had to. Departing from the room I could feel the eyes of Prestige Officer Glagrig upon me and I had the sneaking suspicion that he had somehow already sensed my true nature with a simple glance. Intalran got up and waited patiently by the stage, clearly eager to make his introduction to his hero, and I used the distraction to slip away, thankful that I could avoid a conversation with the predatory venlil for at least a little while.
“New report!” Jonsco calls out into the muster area, gathering some attention from the assembled crews. “We’ve got a new call-out for whoever’s available. We’ve got claims of a Laysi infestation in a human hardware store on the east side of the yotul district. Be advised that the human may pose an additional risk. It’s been spotted exhibiting herdless behaviour and may prove violent. Intervention by additional humans in the area seems unlikely as the owner of the shop appears to have been exiled from its pack.”
“Sounds like a good opportunity to put the humans in their place, don’t you think Turlid?” Bikim saunters past me with a pep in his step and a happy wave of his tail.
“Let’s suit up and get rolling,” Turlid replies happily as the pair make their way towards the equipment lockers, “we've got predators to burn.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N - Things aren’t all bad for Sawvek as he seems to have made at least one friend in the office and we’ve been introduced to a whole new cast of characters! Do you believe Vaesh has any chance of reforming the Guild to be more accepting of the humans? Were the deaths of Vrienna and the other members of the PRED team really an accident caused by faulty equipment or is there more going on here? Will the hostilities among the various members of the crew reach a boiling point? Do you think Intalran will get his wish of being transferred to the PRED squad and do you think he’ll drag Sawvek with him? Who is Prestige Officer Glagrig really? He seems oddly familiar…
I post somewhat sporadically due to an erratic schedule IRL, so if you’re interested in staying up to date I’d highly recommend using the “!Subscribeme” function to be alerted to all new posts.

I am hurt.
​
My father left my mom for selfish reasons and he does not seek to have a relationship with me or my sibling. Maybe once a month we will call, but it is extremely transactional of a call and all he speaks of is his job and directs the conversation away from anything else. He makes above $200k salary and wanted to leave my stay at home mother (no job skills whatsoever and health issues) with nothing.
I'm at the point that I no longer want a relationship with my father. I simply no longer can handle the way he treats everyone and the hurt is too great. I am ashamed of my last name because of him.
This seems like I would be dishonoring our relationship by not wanting to keep in touch with him. Could I get some scriptural advice on this topic? In my heart it seems like the best option is to stop communication with him and to move on with my life without him. Any advice helps, but please no condolences.

I am grateful to the Greatly Compassionate and Greatly Merciful Guan Yin Bodhisattva for offering me this precious opportunity to share my experience of practising Buddhism with you.
I am 62 years old. Today, I can eat, sleep and walk like a normal person. However, did you know that I once was a paralyzed woman who could not even get up from bed, had difficulty turning over, and could not take care of myself? Through practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures, I have completely freed myself from the misery of hell. I want to tell you with hard facts that practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures has not only given me a second life, but has also benefited me immensely. I want to share with you how I transformed myself from paralysis to health within four years without undergoing any surgery! May my presentation plant the seeds of bodhi in your hearts, so that more people will have faith in Guan Yin Bodhisattva who has boundless supernatural power, and recite the scriptures as soon as possible to be free from suffering and gain happiness!
1. When I was young, I opened two bars so I created bad karma, and karmic retribution is right on my heels!
I am the eldest daughter of my family and the eldest daughter-in-law of my in-laws family. Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist practitioners and urged me to practise Buddhism as well. However, because of my youthful ambition and good fortune, at the age of about 36, I ran two bars and enjoyed the pleasure of earning money, not bothering to practise Buddhism at all. By then, I was young and foolish, in the bars I gained filthy money by means of woman’s charms, which invariably created a lot of bad karma. How many people lost their morals and conscience for my sake of monetary gain? How many families have been broken up behind the scenes? How many people have done many things against ethics and morality under the paralysis of alcohol? I hereby express my deepest repentance to Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Karmic retribution is inescapable. I planted the evil cause so I reap the evil effect. The bad karma I created within two years of running the bars has brought me a tragic retribution 13 years later! (So, dear fellow practitioners, please take this as a warning!)
In 2010, I was 49, my predestined 369 calamity arrived. One day in July, my karma exploded. I suddenly collapsed at home kitchen while stirring frying vegetables. In an instant, I felt that the sky was falling, and I had nowhere to turn for help. An otherwise healthy me entered a life of hell on earth from then on. Every day, I ate, drank, pooped and peed in bed, had difficulty turning over, couldn't wash my hands and face, had trouble swallowing, so it was worse than death. I was paralyzed in bed from then on. The doctor said I had a herniated disc in my lower back. All the bones in my back were misaligned. Both knee bones were necrotic and so swollen. I have visited all the local city and provincial hospitals, big and small, to seek medical care. I almost spent all the several hundreds of thousands of RMB I had gained from my bar business. However, the condition got worse and worse.
2. Since encountering the excellent Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door, I have been practicing Buddhism hard to overcome any obstacles on the way and finally achieved a new life.
Perhaps it was the blessing from my family members who had been making offerings to the Buddha and practising Buddhism for years. Thanks to the mercy of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, I finally encountered the Citta Dharma in 2012 when I was in the most desperate situation in my life. The person next door to my bar heard that I was sick and came to see me. She brought me scripture, recitation device, Buddhism in Plain Terms, counters and many other Dharma gems. She told me the Citta Dharma was very efficacious, and asked me to try it. Although I could not move on bed, I listened all Master Lu's recordings like a thirst. I was pleasantly surprised to hear cases of patients who had been cured of cancer and serious illnesses by practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures. The recordings of Master Lu's programs were like a bright beacon in the darkness, bringing me hope for life and giving me great encouragement. I felt I was awakened by a powerful energy, stirring up my strong desire to live. I told myself: I must survive; I must save myself! I started to practice Buddhism and recite scriptures as if I had grabbed a lifeline.
I am illiterate, so I had to lie in bed every day and learn to recite word by word with the recitation device. Due to the heavy karma, there was no virtuous and the high-minded practitioner around to teach me how to burn the Little Houses in a rational and lawful way. I foolishly took an ashtray instead of a plate to burn the Little Houses, which resulted in the ashtray blowing up. In order to eliminate karma quickly, I was foolishly reciting the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night, which resulted in the light bulbs breaking several times (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: Master Lu enlightened us not to recite the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night. Please make sure to read the Introduction to Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door carefully in order to avoid practising Buddhism irrationally). Therefore, we must follow the instructions of Master Lu, and never do what the Master does not allow us to do. The whole process of reciting scriptures to eliminate karma is very bumpy. It is really easy to create karma, but very hard to eliminate it! However, I firmly believed that the Bodhisattva is infinitely powerful. As long as I diligently practised Buddhism, my fate would definitely get changed. Hence, I relied on the blissful cases in Master Lu's recordings as my spiritual support. I kept persevering, not afraid of any difficulties, and recklessly recited the scriptures.
Since I ate, drank and pooped in bed, my aura was very bad. As I could not get up by myself, so I had to lie in bed to recite the holy scriptures. I felt guilty and torn, wondering if this was the appropriate way to recite the holy scriptures. Will it affect the effect of the recitation? Gratitude to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassion, and I dreamed of Master Lu that night. Master Lu who was dressed in a black suit smiled at me and kindly comforted me: “don't worry.” After I woke up, I was very grateful for Master Lu's compassion. Master Lu knew about my special situation, so this is a sympathy and a condolence to me. After I recited the scriptures 4 to 5 months late, my neck and head were able to turn significantly. Such a Dharma blissful change thrilled me. All the trials and perseverance I had gone through in the past had not been in vain. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has boundless supernatural power, which had given me a glimmer of hope for recovery! (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: In the absence of illness, recitation of the scriptures must be respectful. A point of respect harvests a point of benefit.)
3. The unique characteristics of attending the Dharma conference and formally acknowledging Jun Hong Lu as my master allow my physical health to improve with Dharma joy
In February 2017, I befriended a fellow practitioner. She invited me to attend the Macau Dharma Convention together. I thought to myself: “can I take the bus by myself?” “Can I attend the conference?” With a strong faith from my inner heart, I attended the conference via keeping reciting the Great Compassion Mantra on the trip. Unbelievably, I arrived at the conference as I wished with the blessing and protection of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, although my bulky legs could only barely support my body in the seat. I was in tears when I listened Master Lu's wise words and saw the holy icon of Guan Yin Bodhisattva. On the night of the conference, I dreamed of Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva for saving me from suffering and giving me a new life. At the end of the Macau Dharma Convention, I instantly made two vows: to be a vegetarian for 15 days per month and liberate 10,000 fish.
Before I attended the Macau Dharma Convention, I had to take a break whenever I walked two steps, and my body was not able to move much. After returning, my legs started to become strong enough to support my body and I could walk on flat ground. Despite they were not very flexible, they were no longer the same as when I was paralyzed like a limp in bed. My whole body is getting better and better in essence, vital energy, and spirit. I was very surprised! Master Lu has enlightened that there are many Buddhas and Bodhisattvas coming to bless attendees at each Dharma conference!
In August 2017, before the Dharma Convention in Malaysia, my fellow practitioners urged me to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as my master. Since I am an illiterate, compassionate fellow practitioners helped me to fill out the application form of seeking discipleship. My fellow practitioners told me that there were so many people wanted to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as their master that I might not be able to reach my wish this time. Then, I had to wait for the opportunity next Dharma Convention. I told myself that whether I could reach my wish or not this time, I would actively participate in Master Lu’s Dharma Convention. Considering my age, it is a blessing for me to attend one more Dharma Convention. To my surprise, one week later, my application for seeking discipleship was approved. Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
On the day of seeking discipleship, I was very excited. During the process of seeking discipleship, I heard a voice in stereo that was very loud. When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see Tathagata Buddha, and many other Bodhisattvas coming down from heaven. At that moment, I saw that the upper half of Master Lu's Dharmakaya appeared transparent with a huge lotus flower. I was suddenly moved to tears. I was oblivious to the fact that Master Lu had come to my side until the time of issuing the discipleship certificate. Master Lu was very compassionate and empowered me with blessing. Master Lu enlightened, "Because five people opened their eyes during the worship ceremony, they have no lotuses planted in the pure land. But it's okay, when the ceremony is over, you can go to the front and kowtow to ask the Bodhisattva (to plant a lotus)." I then rushed to the front to worship. Before I finished worshiping Bodhisattva, a young fellow practitioner came over. He asked, "How do you feel? Did you see anything?" I said, "I saw Tathagata Buddha." He asked, "How are you sure that was Tathagata Buddha?" I said, "Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist disciples, and Tathagata Buddha has curly hair."
I was grateful for the compassionate blessing from Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu. When I returned home after seeking discipleship, I made two vows: to be a vegetarian for the rest of my life and never kill (animals). The power of a vow outweighs the force of karma. After I made the vows, Master Lu’s Dharmakaya came to help me heal my legs in my dreams. Once, I saw Master Lu’s Dharmakaya passing by my room while I was half-squinted. Master Lu asked me, "Which foot is uncomfortable? Where is aching?" Instantly I woke up and then I found that my feet didn't feel as heavy as they used to be and I walked more lightly. I excitedly shared the news with my old father, "Master Lu has come to bless me again!" I am grateful to Master Lu for his compassionate care for every sentient being. Every time I dreamed of Master Lu, he would always compassionately endow me with abundance of blessing, and I was always surprised by the improvement in my health.
In a short time, I could not only separate my feet and take turns to walk up and down the stairs independently. Moreover, I could bend back and forth freely with my arms crossed. The bones in my back, which were all misaligned and uneven, were now completely normal again. Previously, I couldn't raise my hands to wash my face, brush my teeth or comb my hair because the bones in my back would pull the nerves and cause severe pain when I raised my hands. In those days, whenever I sneezed or defecated, I felt like to cheat death on pain. In those hellish day I went through unimaginable pain and suffering. Now, however, I can take care of myself completely and move around freely. Sometimes I get a little tired after walking for too long, but I can recover after 10 minutes of rest in bed. Although it is still slightly bumpy while I was walking, if you don't look closely, you can't see it. My family was overwhelmed to see the dramatic change from being paralyzed and bedridden to walking independently since I practised Buddhism. My old father, who was taking care of me at the bedside, complimented me straight away: you have completely changed, becoming healthier and healthier now! I was so excited that I had tears in my eyes. Without the rescue of Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I really wouldn't have the blissful transformation I have today!
In 2019, at the Dharma conferences of Indonesia and Singapore, I pleaded with my fellow practitioners to be merciful to give me the opportunity to volunteer. According to the rules of the Dharma conference, I was already overage. However, I was adamant that I must do volunteer work. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has given me a second life, so I have to serve all sentient beings physically. I am grateful for Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva who helped me out. When I came back from the conferences, I found that I could bend and squat easily and freely, and I had no problem even sitting on the floor. I am grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for compassionately helping me to eliminate my karma at every conference, so that I can obtain incredible blessings and improvement occur every time.
4. The incredible blessing of setting up the Buddhist altar accelerated my health recovery and created a medical miracle.
From the time I set up the Buddhist altar in 2017, I insisted on offering Bodhisattvas incenses morning and evening every day. At first, the body was still straight and could not bend and bow. For two years, in front of the Buddhist altar, I prayed for Bodhisattvas to bless me so that I could recover my health a little better so I can use my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Dharma. Gradually, I was able to stand to offer incense to Bodhisattvas, to bend and bow, and finally to kneel in front of the Buddhist altar to recite the scriptures. I was full of Dharma joy! Initially, my back still hurt from kneeling. With the karmic obstacles being removed, my back didn't hurt anymore. Sometimes when I went out with fellow practitioners to set up the Buddhist altar, particularly on the Buddha's Birthday, I could kneel to recite the Eighty-eight Buddhas Great Repentance for an hour and a half. My fellow practitioners couldn't keep it up, so I was the only one who kept it up until the end. I am so grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassionate blessing!
At one time, the doctor at the provincial hospital told me that I had to have surgery to put two steel plates into the bone, but I refused. Because I firmly believe that with the of blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I am afraid of nothing. Buddha is an extraordinary doctor. The only way to recover completely is to repent sincerely and practise Buddhism. I can now move as freely as a normal person. This medical miracle achieved was completely relied on practising Buddhism, reciting scriptures, being a vegetarian, helping new practitioners to set up Buddhist altars, volunteering at Dharma conferences, and actively propagating the Dharma. To improve my family economic financial, I went out to work on construction sites as a helper, do cleaning and housekeeping!
Those patients who were once slightly paralyzed did not recover as quickly and well as I did, even with surgery.
Dear readers, when you see such a dramatic change in me, what are you hesitating for? Hurry up and pick up the scriptures to recite! I am the living example, the ironclad evidence. Guan Yin Bodhisattva does exist, and She is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, answers any prayers.
Thinking of the bad karma I created in the two bars when I was young, I feel grievously sinful. I have earned ill-gotten wealth, but the karma was produced, and karmic retribution is inescapable. If one hasn't been retributed, the time hasn't come yet. After I got old, all the retribution came to me. Not only did I use up all my money, but I also had to suffer from physical illness and paralysis. I advise everyone to remember Master Lu's enlightenment: Do not do anything that is evil; Do not fail to do good no matter how petty the deed; Do not engage in evil no matter how trivial the deed. Dear readers, please consider it carefully before earning any money, and don’t commit such deep sins as I did for the sake of monetary gain, or else the consequences will follow you!
Without the merciful salvation and blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I would not have been reborn today! I made a few great wows: honour the teacher and respect his teachings, live an ascetic life for lifetime, be a vegetarian lifetime, not kill, not eat eggs, not smoke, not drink; transcend the cycle of rebirth for good and attain enlightenment in one lifetime. In this life, I will follow Guan Yin Bodhisattva to cultivate my mind and change my behaviour and never quit. I will follow my benefactor, the Compassionate father, Master Lu, to propagate Citta Dharma and never stop! Although I am over 60 years, I will continue using my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Buddhism. Together with my fellow practitioners, I will get up early and go home late to help set up Buddha altars for new practitioners. No matter how far and how difficult the trip is, I will always be strict with myself. I will go wherever I am needed. Even if I am eating, as soon as I receive a mission for propagating Dharma, I will put down my chopsticks and set off without delay.
Citta Dharma is peerlessly efficacious, and Guan Yin Bodhisattva is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, saves beings from suffering, has supernatural power, and answer all prayers. As long as we have a devout heart and we persist in reciting scriptures and practicing Buddhism, no difficulty can defeat us! My physical changes are the most powerful evidence! May my true presentation give some inspiration to those people who are still suffering from illnesses, so that they can acquire faith to practising Buddhism, and pick up the scriptures to recite. May more sentient beings having affinity with Buddha break free from delusion and attain enlightenment, balance egoism and altruism, and free from suffering and gain happiness.
My deepest gratitude to the Greatly Compassionate and Greatly Merciful Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
My deepest gratitude to all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from ten directions and three periods of time!
My deepest gratitude to the Dharma protectors!
My deepest gratitude to the selfless and altruistic Master Jun Hong Lu!
If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the truth in the presentation, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors, and Master Jun Hong Lu.
I’d also like to seek forgiveness from my fellow Buddhist practitioners.
I, not my fellow practitioners, will be responsible for my own karma!
Shared by: Dharma Practitioner Ganen, Gratitude and Namaste!
Translated by: Frank
Statement by Translator

1. Story was translated from Chinese into English by meaning, not word by word. If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the true meaning of the Chinese version, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors and Master Jun Hong Lu.
   
2. Author Ganen was interviewed by Frank during the translation for the detailed information.
   

Key facts
Paralysis (National Health Service (NHS) , UK, 2022)
Paralysis is the loss of the ability to move some or all of your body.
Symptoms of paralysis (NHS, UK, 2022)
The main symptom of paralysis is the inability to move part of your body, or not being able to move at all.
It can start suddenly or gradually. Sometimes it comes and goes.
Paralysis can affect any part of the body, including: the face, the hands, one arm or leg (monoplegia), one side of the body (hemiplegia), both legs (paraplegia),both arms and legs (tetraplegia or quadriplegia).
The affected part of your body may also be: stiff (spastic paralysis), with occasional muscle spasms, floppy (flaccid paralysis), numb, painful or tingly.
Stats about paralysis (Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation, 2022)
In 2013, the Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation unveiled staggering statistics based on research into the prevalence of paralysis across the U.S. According to the study, there are nearly 1 in 50 people living with paralysis – approximately 5.4 million people. That's the same number of people as the combined populations of Los Angeles, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C.
We all know someone -- a brother, sister, friend, neighbor, or colleague -- living with paralysis. These aren't strangers. They are only one degree of separation from all of us.
Causes of Paralysis (Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation, 2022)
stroke (33.7%),
spinal cord injury (27.3%)
multiple sclerosis (18.6%)
other (20.4%)
How is paralysis managed or treated? (Cleveland Clinic, 2022)
There isn’t a cure for permanent paralysis!!! The spinal cord can’t heal itself. Temporary paralysis like Bell’s palsy often goes away over time without treatment.
Please kindly forward this article to those who are under sufferance of paralysis
Forward this article to those whose relatives are under sufferance of paralysis, you will accumulate immeasurable merits and virtues. Saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-floor pagoda！！！
Would you like to change your destiny?
We will show you how to do the five golden Buddhist practices of Guan Yin Bodhisattva Citta Dharma Door: (1) making vows, (2) reciting Buddhist scriptures (sutras and mantras), (3) performing life liberation, (4) reading Buddhism in Plain Terms, and (5) Repentance. You will personally witness how you and your family can achieve physical and mental stability, relief from illness and grievances, wisdom growth, academic progress, career advancement, and family happiness through Dharma.
Welcome to contact fellow practitioner Lily: sunnypurplelily@gmail.com
Or add Lily’s WeChat: HanJing20210820
原文如下:
从瘫痪卧床到行走自如做家政，心灵法门创造了医学奇迹
感恩南无大慈大悲救苦救难广大灵感观世音菩萨摩诃萨！
感恩十方三世一切诸佛菩萨！
感恩龙天护法金刚菩萨！
感恩恩师慈父卢军宏台长！
感恩师兄们！
感恩大慈大悲观世音菩萨慈悲，让我能有这个宝贵的机会与大家分享我的学佛经历。我今年62岁，现在是一个能吃、能睡、能走路的正常人了。但是，你们可曾知道，曾经，我是一个连床都起不了、翻身都困难，生活完全无法自理的瘫痪老人！如今，通过学佛念经，我把自己从地狱的苦海里完全挣脱了出来。我要用铁一般的事实告诉大家：学佛念经不仅给了我第二次生命，更让我受益无穷。我要跟大家分享，在这患病的四年里，在没有经历任何手术的情况下，如何让自己从瘫痪到健康的蜕变！愿我今天的分享给有缘人种下菩提种子，让更多的人相信观世音菩萨法力无边，早日学佛念经，离苦得乐！
1. 年轻时开酒吧造恶业，得现世报！
我是家中的长女、婆家的长媳。母亲和婆婆都是学佛人，都劝我也学佛。但是，由于年轻时好胜心强，加之财运不错，36岁左右，我经营两家酒吧，享受挣钱的快乐，根本无心学佛。年轻愚痴的我经营酒吧时靠女色来赚取黑钱，赚的都是不正之财，无形中造了很多恶业。在这种灯红酒绿中生活，我为了金钱利益，让多少人丧失了自己的道德与良知？背后又造成多少个家庭的破裂？又有多少人在酒精的麻痹下做出多少违背伦理道德的事情？弟子在此向观世音菩萨深深忏悔！因果报应丝毫不爽，种恶因得恶果。开酒吧这两年中我所造下的恶业，在十几年后让我得到悲惨的现世报！所以，请大家引以为戒！
2010年我49岁，正逢“三六九”关劫。7月的一天，我的业障大爆发，在家炒菜时突然间倒下。瞬间，我感觉天塌下来，叫天天不应，叫地地不灵。一个原本健康的我从此进入人间地狱般的生活。每天，我吃喝拉撒都在床上，翻身都很困难，没法自己洗手洗脸，吞咽困难，简直生不如死。我从此瘫痪在床。医生说我是腰椎间盘突出。后背的所有骨头都错位。两个膝盖骨头坏死，肿得很大。当地市里、省里大大小小的医院我都看过了。我几乎把我做酒吧生意所赚到的几十万块钱都花光了。然而，病情越来越严重。
2. 得遇殊胜法门，坎坷学佛路中坚持不懈地修行换来重生
也许是家人一直供佛学佛的福德。承蒙观世音菩萨慈悲，在我人生绝境之时，我终于在2012年得遇心灵法门。以前我开店隔壁的人听说我病倒了，就来看我。她给我送来了经书、念佛机、《白话佛法》、计数器等很多法宝。她告诉我心灵法门很灵验，让我试试。我躺在床上虽然无法动弹，却如饥似渴地把师父的录音听了个遍。听到人们通过学佛念经把癌症、重症都治愈的案例，我惊喜万分。师父的节目录音就像黑暗中的一盏明灯，让我看到了生活的希望，给了我很大的鼓舞。在这个过程中我像被一股强大的能量加持唤醒，激起了求生的强烈欲望。我告诉自己：我一定要活过来；我一定要自己救自己！我像抓住了救命稻草似地开始拼命学佛念经。
我不识字，只能每天躺在床上跟着念佛机一字一句地学着念。由于业力牵引，身边没有遇到善知识教我如理如法地烧送小房子。愚痴的我曾拿个烟灰缸代替盘子烧送经文组合小房子，结果烟灰缸炸掉了。为了抓紧时间消业，我晚上十点后还在念《心经》和《往生咒》，结果家里的灯坏了好几次（趁此机会我诚心提醒师兄们：师父开示，晚上十点后不要念诵《心经》和《往生咒》，请师兄们一定要好好看《心灵法门入门手册》，避免操作不如理不如法）。所以，我们一定要听师父的话，师父不让做的就不做。念经消业的整个过程非常坎坷。真是造业容易，消业难啊！但是，我坚信菩萨法力无边，只要精进努力，一定会得到改变的。于是，我依靠师父录音中的法喜案例作为精神支撑。我一直坚持不懈，不怕万难，拼命念经。
由于吃喝拉撒都在床上，气场非常不好，自己又无法起身，只能躺在床上念经。我内心愧疚又纠结，不知道这样念经是否如理如法？会不会影响念经效果？感恩菩萨慈悲，当晚我就梦见师父了。师父身穿着黑西装，一边慈祥地笑着一边安慰我：不要担心。醒来后，我非常感恩师父的慈悲。师父知道我的特殊情况，这是对我的宽容和安慰啊。后来，大概念经差不多4～5个月后，我的脖子和头也能明显地转动了。这样法喜的变化，让我激动万分。我过去所经历的磨难与坚持都没有白费。观世音菩萨法力无边，让我看到了康复的一丝希望！（作者提醒：师兄们，在没有病痛的情况下，念经一定要体态恭敬，一分恭敬一分受益。）
3. 参加法会与拜师的殊胜，让我的身体不断法喜蜕变
2017年2月份，我结识了一位师兄。她邀请我一起去参加澳门法会。我心想：我能自己坐车吗？能去法会吗？凭着内心坚定的信念，路途中我一直念《大悲咒》。虽然我笨重的双腿只能勉强支撑着身体坐在座位上，但在观世音菩萨一路加持护佑下，我竟然能够如愿到了法会现场。现场听到师父开示、看到观世音菩萨的圣像，我泪如雨下。大法会当天晚上，我就梦到了观世音菩萨！感恩大慈大悲救苦救难观世音菩萨救我于苦海，给了我新的生命和生活。澳门法会结束，我当即发愿：一个月吃素15天，放生一万条鱼。参加澳门法会前，只要走两步路我就要歇一歇，而且我的身体没办法大幅度活动。
澳门法会回来后，我的双腿开始变得有力，可以支撑起身子在平地上走路了。虽然还不是很灵活，但是比起原来像软泥一样瘫痪在床的状态，已经不可同年而语了。我整个人精、气、神也越来越好。我非常惊喜！师父开示过，每场法会有很多佛菩萨来加持大家！
2017年8月，马来西亚法会前，师兄们让我拜师，但我不识字。慈悲的师兄们帮助我代笔填写拜师申请表。师兄们告诉我，这次拜师的人太多，有可能排不上队，得等到下一场法会才有机会。我告诉自己，无论这次能不能拜师，我都一定积极参加师父的法会。我这么大年纪了，能参加多一场法会都是我的福报啊。让我惊喜的是，一个星期后，我的拜师申请通过了。感恩观世音菩萨慈悲！
拜师当天，我激动万分。在拜师过程中，我听到一个非常立体、非常响亮的声音。我睁开眼睛时，我竟然看到了如来佛祖，还有好多菩萨都从天上下来了。这时，我看到师父上半身的法身呈现透明状，有一朵大大的莲花。我顿时感动得泪如雨下。直到颁发弟子证的时候，我浑然不觉师父已经走到我的身边。师父非常慈悲，给我灌顶加持。师父说:“因为拜师过程中有5个人睁开了眼睛，所以莲花没有种上去。不过没关系，等拜师仪式结束后，可以到前面去磕头求菩萨。”我就赶紧跑到前面去拜。我还没拜完，就过来了一个年轻师兄。他问我：“您感觉怎么样？有没有看到什么？” 我告诉他：“我看到如来佛祖了。” 他说：“您怎么确定那是如来佛祖呢？”我说：”我家母和家婆是学佛人，如来佛祖头发卷卷的。”
感恩观世音菩萨与师父的慈悲加持。拜师结束回家我就发愿: 终生吃全素，不杀生。真是愿力大于业力，发愿后，师父又来梦里帮我治疗双腿。有一次，我半眯着眼睛看到师父从我的房间经过。师父问我：“还有哪只脚不舒服？还有哪个地方疼痛的？” 瞬间我就醒了，醒来我发现我的双脚没有了原来的沉重感，走起路来更加轻盈了。我激动地跟老父亲分享：“师父又来加持我啦！”感恩师父慈悲关怀着每一位众生。每次梦见师父，师父都慈悲给予加持，我的身体总会有惊喜的好转。
没过多久，我不仅可以分开双脚，轮流迈开步伐独立上下楼梯。而且，我双手叉腰，可以前后自如地弯腰。后背的骨头原本因为全部错位并高低不平，如今完全恢复正常了。原本我没办法把手举起来洗脸、刷牙和梳头，因为手一抬，后背的骨头扯神经会导致剧烈的疼痛。每次打喷嚏或排泄的时候，都有种痛不欲生的感觉，就像死里逃生一样。这种地狱般的日子让我历经常人难以想象的苦痛折磨。然而现在，我的生活可以完全自理并且行动自如。有时候走太久会有一点点累，但是卧床休息十几分钟就可以恢复过来。虽然走路还有一点点高低现象，但如果不仔细看，是看不出来的。看到我学佛念经以来，从瘫痪卧床到独立行走的巨大变化，我的家人无比震惊。当年在床头边照顾我的老父亲直夸我：现在整个人完全变了，变得越来越健康了！我激动得泪眼婆娑。没有观世音菩萨与师父的大慈大悲救苦救难，真的不会有我今天的法喜蜕变！
2019年印尼法会和新加坡法会上，我恳请师兄们慈悲给我做义工的机会。按照法会规定，我已经超龄了。但是，我坚决一定要做义工。观世音菩萨给了我第二次生命，我就要身体力行地为众生服务。感恩观世音菩萨的慈悲，让我能如愿以偿。从法会做完义工回来，我发现我可以轻松自如地弯腰和下蹲，就连坐在地板上也没有问题了。感恩菩萨每次法会上都慈悲帮我消业，让我每次都能有不可思议的加持，变化。
4. 设佛台的不可思议加持，加速我身体恢复健康，创造医学奇迹
从2017年设佛台起，我每天坚持上早晚香。起初，身体还是直直的，不能弯腰鞠躬。两年里，我每天在佛台前上香求菩萨加持，让我身体能恢复得更好一些，能为众生表法。慢慢地，我从站着上香到弯腰鞠躬，到最后可以跪在佛台前念经。真是法喜充满啊！刚开始跪着后背还是很痛。随着业障的消除，我的后背也不疼痛了。有时候和师兄们出去设佛台，遇到佛诞日，我跪着念诵《礼佛大忏悔文》足足有一个半小时的时间。许多师兄都坚持不下来，唯独我坚持到结束。真是感恩菩萨慈悲加持！
曾经，省医院的医生告诉我，必须做手术把两块钢板放进骨头里，但我回绝了。因为我坚信有观世音菩萨和师父两座靠山，我什么都不怕。在因果面前，佛是大药王。唯有诚心忏悔，学佛修行才能彻底康复。我完全靠学佛念经吃素、设佛台、参加法会做义工，积极弘法度人，才创造了医学奇迹：现在和正常人一样行动自如。我甚至去工地做小工，搞卫生、做家政弥补家用！那些曾经轻微瘫痪的患者就算做手术，也没有我恢复得快，恢复到如此好的状态。
读者朋友们，你们看到我如此天翻地覆的变化，还犹豫什么呢？赶快捧起经书念经吧！我就是活生生的例子，铁一般的证据。观世音菩萨真实存在，并且大慈大悲有求必应啊！
现在回想起年轻时开酒吧所造下的恶业，真是罪孽深重。不正之财赚到了，可是，因果报应丝毫不爽，不是不报，时候未到。在我人到老年时，所有的报应一涌而来。不但钱财全部用尽，还要遭受肉体病痛的瘫痪之苦，因果不空啊！奉劝大家一定要谨记师父的教诲：诸恶莫作，众善奉行！不以善小而不为；不以恶小而为之！挣任何钱财之前都要三思，切记不可为了金钱利益而像我一样造下如此深重的罪孽，否则果报如影随形！
没有观世音菩萨和师父的慈悲救度与加持，就没有我今天的重生！弟子许愿尊师重道、一生清修、终生吃全素、不杀生、不吃鸡蛋、不抽烟、不喝酒；一世修成，永断轮回。今生跟着观世音菩萨修心修行，永不退转。跟着恩师慈父卢军宏台长弘扬心灵法门永不停息！我虽然60多岁了，但是我要身体力行地为大家表法，起早贪黑地和共修组师兄们一起去助缘设佛台。无论路程多么遥远，多么艰辛，我都严格要求自己。哪里需要我，我就走到哪里。哪怕我在吃饭，只要接到弘法任务，我一定当即放下筷子，一刻也不能耽误地出发。
心灵法门灵验无比，观世音菩萨大慈大悲，救苦救难，法力无边，有求必应。只要我们有一颗虔诚的心，只要我们坚持念经修行，没有什么困难可以打倒我们！我的身体变化就是最有力的证据！愿我的真实分享给那些还在受着病痛折磨的人们一些启发，让大家生起学佛念经的信念，捧起经书念经，愿更多的有缘众生能够早日破迷开悟，自利利他，离苦得乐！
我的分享结束了，分享中如有不如理不如法的地方，请观世音菩萨慈悲原谅！请十方三世一切诸佛菩萨和龙天护法菩萨慈悲原谅！请师父慈悲原谅！请师兄们批评指正！我自己的业障自己背，不让师兄们背！ 感恩合十！
分享人：感恩～全素
2022-02-28
关键事实
瘫痪（英国国民保健服务 (NHS)，2022 年）
瘫痪是失去移动部分或全部身体的能力。
瘫痪症状（NHS，英国，2022 年）
瘫痪的主要症状是无法移动身体的一部分，或者根本无法移动。它可以突然或逐渐开始。有时它来来去去反反复复。
瘫痪可以影响身体的任何部位，包括：面部、手、一只手臂或腿（单瘫）、身体的一侧（偏瘫）、双腿（截瘫）、手臂和腿（四肢瘫痪或四肢瘫痪）。
身体受影响的部位也可能会：僵硬（痉挛性麻痹），偶尔有肌肉痉挛，软弱无力（松弛性麻痹），麻木，疼痛或刺痛。
关于瘫痪的统计数据（Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation，2022）
2013 年，Christopher & Dana Reeve 基金会公布了对全美瘫痪患病率研究的统计数据。根据这项研究，近五分之一的人患有瘫痪——大约 540 万人。这与洛杉矶、费城和华盛顿特区的总人口数量相当。
我们都知道有人——兄弟、姐妹、朋友、邻居或同事——患有瘫痪。这些都不是陌生人。他们与我们健康人只有一步之遥。
瘫痪的原因（Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation，2022）
中风（33.7%）
脊髓损伤 (27.3%)
多发性硬化症 (18.6%)
其他 (20.4%)
瘫痪如何管理或治疗？ （克利夫兰诊所，2022）
永久瘫痪无药可救！！！脊髓不能自愈。像贝尔麻痹这样的暂时性麻痹通常会在没有治疗的情况下随着时间的推移而消失。
请将本文慈悲转发给瘫痪病人及其家属
请转发这篇文章给瘫痪病人及其家属，您会积累无量功德。救人一命，胜造七级浮屠！！！
您想改变命运吗？
我们手把手传授您观世音菩萨的心灵法门五大法宝：“许愿”、“放生”、“念经”、“看《白话佛法》”、”大忏悔”。您将亲自见证如何通过佛法让自己及家人获得身心安定、病苦解除、冤结化解、智慧增长、学业进步、事业提升、家庭幸福。
欢迎联络我们
Lily佛友：sunnypurplelily@gmail.com
Lily微信：HanJing20210820
Disclaimer of Liability
The contents of the answers, such as text, images, and other information obtained from Dharma practitioners, are provided solely for reference purposes. Since karma differs from person to person, you may not be able to replicate the same results as the authors. Neither their experience nor their advice should be construed as medical advice or a diagnosis.
In case of an emergency, please call your doctor or 911 right away. It is solely at your own risk to rely on any information found in the answers. The translator and answerer accept no responsibility. By using or misusing the answers, you are liable for any personal injury, including death.

Today I attended what I thought was going to be a celebration of life. My husband’s childhood friend lost his father about 6 weeks ago after a long illness. Al was a great man who was well liked by everyone. He was cremated after his passing, so again, I thought this was a celebration of life type event.
On the drive over, I ask for directions. St. Francis of Assasi. Ok, my first clue. Catholic. My least favorite but this isn’t about me; it’s about celebrating Al and paying our respects to our friend and his family. I can manage just fine.
The service begins. Right off the bat, you can tell the priest is a showman. He’s not reading from the Bible. He’s singing. Yes, actually singing the passages. It’s tough to describe but the end of every sentence was elongated with a higher pitch. Reminded me of monks. Odd, but whatever.
“From the book of revelations…”
Oh boy, here we go. I’m an adult, I’m an intellectual, I can do this. I decide to sit there and objectively listen to the service. After several minutes, my mind begins to wander and I’m looking around the chapel. I’m now distracted by how tacky everything is. The robes, the statues, the fabrics, the paintings - all of it looks dime store cheap. Is it really necessary to have a 24 speaker sound system? What does any of this have to do with saving my eternal soul? Is any of this necessary?
“Please rise…”
My eyes stop on the 20ft painting of Jesus. I’m transfixed.
“….came down from the kingdom to Jerusalem…”
In what world is a guy from the Middle East that white with blond hair? Really, blue eyes?? Have any of you looked at a map?
“…eat my flesh and drink my blood and live for all eternity…
What is happening right now?!? Do you actually hear these words? This sounds like something from a bad vampire movie. How is this making sense to you people?
“You may be seated…”
28 minutes. We sat there for 28 minutes listening to crazy scriptures and depressing hymns before the priest even mentioned Al. 28 MINUTES! And even then he only spoke directly about Al for 4 minutes; sharing a heartwarming story about waking him up from a deep sleep in hospice so he could perform the last rites. SMH. No mention of his departed wife, his surviving family, his service record, his hobbies, his interests; Nothing. Nothing but eat my flesh and drink my blood.
Then it was another 20 minutes of blessings, depressing hymns and other nonsense. At one point, my husband leaned over and whispered how ridiculous the whole thing was.
52 minutes in total; 4 minutes spent discussing the deceased. I was so angry. That seems so disrespectful to me. It’s not about you, dude, or your religion. We gathered to celebrate Al, you pious windbag. I wanted to stand up and scream! Of course, I didn’t. Instead, I bit my tongue, offered my condolences, went home, toasted a glass in Al’s honor and came here to rant.
R.I.P. Al. You will be deeply and profoundly missed. ❤️

Working on a low fantasy debut novel and looking for critique. This is an (unnumbered) chapter in the first act of the novel (not opening chapter), and is meant to have touches of horror. I've done quite a bit of worldbuilding thus far (political system, economics, regional differences, warfare, history, religion, resources, professions, names, magic system, etc.). This will be early in the book, so the Lord's experiences are meant to be mysterious.
Let me know your thoughts, whether in the category of Developmental, Evaluation, Content, and/or Line editing. The first three would be great in these comments (unless you are wanting to highlight something specific in the text), and the Google Doc is open to Line Edit suggestions. Providing both, for your choice / convenience.
Thank you very much in advance for any feedback!
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ygTsSPQp6xvR6B-qQYfKIizogG0uwRrx/edit
​
#
A bang at the door jolted Tyus awake. He glanced out the window of his quarters and saw a pale, stormy night sky that hid the stars. His heartbeat was frantic but slowed as he gathered himself, knowing the dangers in the palace were not so blatant.
Whoever slammed on his door at this hour would regret stepping foot in his hallway.
He threw on his robe and swung the door open. A soldier stood outside, holding an insufferably bright torch. Its heat would have felt nice on Tyus’s face if it was not such a warm, muggy night. The soldier wore leather armor plastered with the orange sigil of Sunrock: three-quarters of a circle containing a jagged triangle, and a sun with spears for sunrays spilling out against a night-sea colored background.
Another man was behind the soldier. Tyus focused his eyes past glare of the torch and recognized the face, but more importantly, the iron sword hanging from his hip. He was no soldier.
“Good moon, Ser Marin,” Tyus said. Ser Marin flared his eyes in a way that Tyus interpreted as him needing to talk. Privately. Something must be going on with Lord Ivo. Sunrock men would not be here otherwise.
Ivo Clifton had been succumbing to depression since his wife’s recent death, but a visit like this by his Crownsguard, at this time of night, seemed like something more. Or something else entirely. Tyus needed to invite Ser Marin inside, without the dumb brute with the heavy fist joining along.
He nodded toward Ser Marin. “Not the typical hour that I host, but please come in—”
“Crown Lord Clifton requests your presence in his wing, Father,” the brute interrupted. How dare this inconsequential club-wielder? His young vigor seemed to be exploring its limits. For a soldier, the palace was a nice station. Compared to the others. But an expendable man was all Tyus acknowledged.
Tyus pulled one end of his mouth tight and looked up at the soldier from the corners of his eyes, but the stubborn soldier only stared back.
“What’s your name, good clubman?” Tyus asked. “Haven’t ever seen you on the Church grounds. If you’re struggling with the lawful faith, I can help you. Don’t want anyone to think you’re toeing the wrong line.”
“Yes, Father Tyus, ‘course not,” he said, severely lacking enthusiasm. “Name’s Deyas Mounte. You’ll see me there soon.”
Tyus morphed back into his harmless façade. “I look forward to that.” He exited his chambers and secured the door behind him. “My thanks, Deyas. No need to join us. I think we can all trust Ser Marin to deliver me safely,” he said with a whisper that still found a way to echo down the dark stone hall.
Deyas looked at Ser Marin, who nodded. Deyas made an almost challenging smirk, then walked off without the decency to dampen the heavy thumps of his boots. Tyus watched.
“Leave him be, Father. He’s one of the few who actually cares to do his job well, and Sea knows I need more of that,” Ser Marin said. Tyus turned and walked the opposite direction toward the Sunrock wing. Ser Marin skipped a few steps, then matched his strides.
“If I let things be, we wouldn’t be doing such good things together, would we, my friend?” Friend. When delivered well, it had an impressive ability to make people actually believe it. But Ser Marin did not seem to. Not yet.
Ser Marin Duartes was Sunrock’s very own contribution to the Crownsguard. Tyus had been lucky to recruit him. He had almost single-handedly won the last Crown Duel a few years ago, in the most impressive performance Tyus had ever seen. With sword in left hand and spear in right, Ser Marin barked orders to his group and danced around the arena like a hurricane. He eliminated three of the incumbent Crownsguard before they could even coordinate a defense. That previous Crownsguard had been heralded as the best in the Crownland’s history of nearly two hundred years, and had served for fifteen of them. They survived three separate Crown Duels in their time and served three terms as Crownsguard – the only team to ever serve more than two. Legends and songs were made about them. There were many excuses and theories of conspiracy regarding their shocking defeat a few years past—but whatever the truth was, the simple reality was that Ser Marin made them look like silly children waving sticks.
That was only part of the reason why Tyus recruited him. Marin was also a devout follower of the Church. And his sword and his ear were at Ivo’s side more often than even his most trusted advisors. And he had a secret that he badly wanted to keep.
“Crown Lord Ivo has had another rough night,” Marin said as he tossed his long black ponytail over his shoulder in an rushed way that Tyus noticed. He began to whisper so quietly that Tyus had to lean in to hear him. “I heard him screaming inside his chambers. The way it sounded…” His breath fluttered a bit. He stopped walking and grabbed Tyus’s arm. “I kicked the door in and saw him hunched over his bed. I thought he was dead. I drew my sword and rushed in, and when I turned him over, he was just… sobbing. And moaning.” Marin shook his head. “Father, this is bad.”
Marin was one of the calmest men Tyus knew. Him unnerved was enough to make Tyus feel the same.
“What did he say?” Tyus asked.
“He told me to fetch you. I asked him if he was safe. He just yelled, ‘I don’t know!’ His face was even more miserable than the night we lost the Crownswoman.” Marin’s breath was quick. “He’s Sunrock’s Crown, for Sea’s sake. If this keeps on, it’s going to get out, and regardless of the reputation he’s built…”
“We won’t let that happen,” Tyus said.
Marin and Tyus were invested in Crown Lord Ivo’s reign, but for different reasons. Though Ser Marin felt that Ivo had the position and platform to improve Sunrock’s faith in the Sea God, he deeply admired Ivo as a man and warrior-noble, and was devoted to protecting him. Tyus had spent years forging a close and trusting relationship with Ivo, allowing him to directly influence Ivo on several profitable occasions. And he had Ser Marin in his web, who was convinced that Tyus, the Church, and Sunrock all had common interests.
An emotional Ivo was an opportunity for Tyus to grow a closer relationship, but Ser Marin was right about one thing—Ivo’s struggles needed to stay hidden. Sunrock valued strength, prowess, and killer instinct, and were quick to replace a Crown Lord that demonstrates otherwise. Lord Ivo had always been more patient and calculating than the belligerent stereotype the Sunrockan culture was known by. In the eyes of the elites in Sunrock, this held back his potential as a strong leader, and Lord Ivo was aware of this sentiment and often tried to prove them wrong.
“Take me to him,” Tyus said.
They walked the dark and winding hallways toward the Sunrock wing, and Tyus could feel that Ser Marin was spooked. The combination of his aura, the stormy night, and the darkness of the palace somehow began to rub off on Tyus. Something about this did not feel right.
They climbed the steps of the Sunrock wing and walked to the entrance of Lord Ivo’s private chambers. Tyus stopped at the door, but Ser Marin continued walking and stopped next to one of the guest suites. Tyus caught up, then felt a sudden dread. To be called at this hour was very irregular. He should have asked more questions before carelessly strolling into a Crown Lord’s residence, regardless that it was Lord Ivo.
Ser Marin beckoned for him to enter.
Tyus pressed on the smooth wood of the door and stepped inside, bearing an assured and relaxed posture as the door creaked and thumped shut behind him. Lord Ivo was already seated at the head of his table, using cloth and spit to clean Moonfire, his famed sword. The room was silent, save for the pound of the rain against the stone walls, and was lit with many more torches than needed. Books were tossed about on the furniture, and several were left open in a half-circle on the floor.
“I’ve never made a night call before,” Lord Ivo said in his low, resonant voice, still focused on his sword as Tyus approached. The grimace on his face was a transparent attempt at showing strength, and was betrayed by his swollen eyes that were surrounded by dark circles matching the night sky out the window.
“You have not, my lord. And I pray to the Sea that all is well,” Tyus said.
“Sit, my friend,” Lord Ivo said. His powerful frame ebbed and flowed with each gritty breath, which differed from the shaking of his hands. A shakiness that was almost veiled by the fluttering light of the torch flames as they fought for their lives against the chilly gusts that spilled through the window.
Tyus pulled out a chair for himself. He could feel Ivo’s vulnerability, like a leviathan sensing a boat too far from shore. "Are you okay, my lord?" Tyus asked with feigned concern.
Ivo returned a nervous gaze.
“You knew Eddara,” Ivo said. “Maybe not well. But you know I didn’t marry her for any power. My father demanded I marry Evie Rockwell, to ensure her family’s loyalty. And warriors. Or marry Calista Ironridge, that lunatic. No. When I eloped, he planned to unname me his heir. All he could hear was the name: Eddara Baker, from a family with a basic trade and no warriors. He would’ve loved her too if he had ever agreed to meet her. But he didn’t believe in marrying for love. Or his attempt didn’t work out with my mother. But Eddara was nothing like the others. She was selfless. Innocent. Yet elegant…confident. My father’s rage and venom was a small cost, in my eyes. All I ever wanted was her and me. And a lifetime together wouldn’t be enough.” Ivo blinked, and a tear sprung out that he swiped away with an irritated huff. He pressed his lips. “But this wasn’t the forever I wanted. I know she’s gone. But she’s still…here.” He shook his head and seemed to search for the right words.
Tyus was unsure what expression or reaction to show other than sadness. It had been nearly a month since Crownswoman Clifton was murdered. Ser Marin had said Ivo was the first to find her in their chambers with blood splattered against the walls and floor. Sunrock soldiers then spilled through the castle, harassing every face they saw and kicking down nearly every door.
It was well planned, killing her the night that Ser Marin was out protecting Ivo at that spontaneous Crown Council meeting—to discuss the port fires in Osare, of all things. If Marin and Ivo had been here, they probably could have fought off seven to eight attackers between them, let alone the single assassin Tyus assumed.
In the weeks since, Tyus still had not found out who was responsible, as hard as he tried. He had found no killer, conspirators, or bloody weapons. Nothing. And time was running out. If he could find the ones responsible, it would be the strongest hook he could imagine. Especially if they were in positions of power. They would do his every bidding to avoid the secret being spilled. From what he had gathered, it didn’t seem to be Osare’s Crown Lord, but he almost hoped it was one of the other Crown Lords or Ladies.
Tyus pressed his fingertips together atop the table. "She will always be with you, my lord.”
“No!” Ivo said, in a mix between a yell and a whisper. He took a deep breath, as if gathering his strength. "Tyus, I see her. A few nights after…that night…it was like a shadow in the corner of my eye. I’d turn to look, but it’d be gone. I didn’t think much of it, figured I’m just getting old, but, then I started to hear a voice – her’s I guess, but so strained I hardly recognize it – whispering for me. ‘Ivo.’ ‘My love.’ In one ear, then the other. Softly at first, but then louder, and louder, until soon, the whispers grew into screams. ‘My love!’ Fucking awful…piercing. Makes me want to jump out this window. My Eddara never even raised her voice!
“And it’s not just that. Her scent…her perfume. It fills the air. And then I feel her. Her hands, her fingers, but cold and rough, and she runs them along my skin, my shoulders. It doesn’t even really feel like her, tickling up the back of my neck, slithering through my hair. Until I see her fingers come down from above my head, in front of my eyes, like she’s wants to grab my face!” Ivo wiped his forehead with a rag. “And of course, I jump and yell again, and Ser Marin comes charging through the door for the eighth fucking time of the night.”
This time, Ivo allowed his tears to slide down his face. He held another grimace, one harder than before, then stood and grabbed another candle from a nearby shelf.
Tyus was astonished. This was one of the few times he could ever remember being unable to find words. Lord Ivo was one of the most competent men he knew and certainly the most gifted and clever one currently wearing a Crown. Ser Marin had understated Ivo’s condition. This was more than bad, and it was no wonder he was hiding himself away.
Ivo sat back down like a feather and placed his hands between his thighs.
"And now…the shadows don’t disappear. Now she shows herself. Standing over there,” he pointed across the room, “or there. And it’s horrible and different every time.” His voice rose and fluttered. “Sometimes she's covered in blood, the same way as that night, the same gashes, but the blood is horrible and dark, almost black. And she looks…furious. She glares at me and she…tears her fucking wounds open with her bare hands! God!” Ivo smacked himself on the head and brought his voice back down. “Other nights, when, by some miracle, I fall asleep, she kneels next to the bed and stares, right up almost against my face. I sense it, and start to smell her perfume again. Feel her. But I’m afraid to open my eyes. But then, I do, and she’s…fucking smiling. Hard. Yet, her eyes still look mad, and too big. Shit like this has been happening for weeks. I can’t sleep. I tried going out, but people I talk to just…turn into her, this terrible version of her that is slowly killing off my actual memory of my love, my wife. Then tonight, she leaned in to kiss my mouth. God, weeks ago, if I had known I’d get the opportunity to feel her lips just one more time, I would’ve burned villages for it. But I yelled, jumped away, pissed myself like a goddamn boy. She danced. Spun across the room, and…screamed more. But drawn out. Like she didn’t even need breath. So long and so loud I couldn’t even hear myself shouting for it to stop, and her to just kill me. Just fucking kill me!”
This was not the man Tyus shared the occasional glass with, reminiscing on past Crownsguard Duels or sharing stories of childhood, fights, and women. Some of the stories Tyus shared were even true. Or Tyus would just act enthralled by Ivo’s enthusiastic tales of leading bold and heroic charges in iron armor to slay untrained barbarians that fought back with bone-tipped spears.
No, Tyus was now sitting across from a deranged man.
If the nobles of Sunrock caught wind of his deterioration, they would likely replace him within a moon or two. They expected a formidable warrior as a leader. Blubbering and slouched at the table and wishing for death, Ivo appeared anything but that. Appearances were half the battle, whether or not they were true. Yes, he likely was capable of battering through a Crownsguard or two in a duel, even in his current state. But to shed a tear in the stoic culture of Sunrock was to disgrace their warrior ancestors—ridiculous, of course, because Ivo was truly one of the best leaders Sunrock had ever known.
Tyus sat in unintentional silence. He wasn’t sure what Ivo needed or wanted to hear. Did he need comfort? Did he need a stern reminder of his responsibilities? Should he cry with him? He wanted to help him through this, but this could be too much. To be sad or even depressed was expected, but Tyus lamented that he did not foresee such a drastic change in Ivo’s sanity. He had devoted a lot of effort to build relationships and leverage in with Ivo and in his circle. But he should have prepared in-roads with the other nobles who were plausible replacements, as a contingency. If Ivo was ousted from his leadership of the strongest army in the Crownlands, Tyus himself would lose influence, power, and years of work.
Tyus shifted his hands on the table. “Have you told anyone about this?”
“No,” Ivo said. “I can’t.”
“My lord, I’m humbled you chose to confide in me. You are not crazy. You are grieving. And stressed. That is normal, considering what happened. Everyone knows how much you lov—”
“Normal?” Ivo growled. “Tyus, truthfully…in your years of soothing widows and widowers, have you ever heard of anything like this?”
“No,” Tyus said. He shook his head with a touch of regret and shame, and the shame he actually felt. Usually an understanding of people’s emotions came naturally, but this time he felt like he did not know how to guide Ivo’s feelings at all.
Ivo’s body made an abrupt turn to face Tyus. His demeanor changed in a way that made Tyus’s heart drop. Tyus hoped his face did not show it.
“She’s been talking to me lately,” Ivo said. “Or, at me. She doesn’t respond. She just talks.”
“What does she say?”
“She’s trying her damnedest to tell me something important,” Ivo said.
He was holding something back. “Ivo. What do you think it was?”
Ivo grabbed the pommel of Moonfire and lowered its tip against the floor. The tan hue of the blade caught a reflection of one of the writhing torch flames on the wall.
“That it was the Church,” Ivo said.
Tyus was jolted with surprise. There was no mistaking that this was an accusation against not only the Church, but him, too. His neck twitched and heat pushed from inside his body to the surface of his skin. His hands left the table and his back straightened. He should have listened to his instinct before he entered the room. That instinct had kept him successful up to this point. Yet, he had decided to put his trust in Marin and Ivo. He was unsure how to respond, but he knew he needed to quickly.
“Don’t tell me you believe that,” he said.
“If anyone knows the truth, it’s you,” Ivo whispered.
Ivo was now composed, which made Tyus think Ivo did believe it and was interrogating him. Or that he was fishing, at least, and wanted to see how Tyus would react. He’d rather Ivo be shouting curses and throwing the table upside down. Tyus knew that his livelihood, or life, depended on every word he said next. A Crown Lord wouldn’t slay the Church’s representative to the palace here, in his own chambers—to do so would risk open war against the Church and probably the other Crowns. But for Tyus to fail now would mean his ruin, one way or another.
“My lord, I was in the palace that night, but I had nothing to do with what happened. I believe you know that, you know me, and you know that I’d never bring harm to you or yours, even if it did somehow benefit the Church, which this certainly hasn’t. My heart is broken for you. I am so sorry, and I promise I’m here for you to help you in any way that I can, by my word as a clergyman and especially your friend.” Tyus’s eyesight became wet and stinging. “With what you say you’ve experienced, I understand your doubts, but I swear on my life that your suspicion of me is misplaced.”
Tyus wore a mask that was firm but inoffensive. Ivo frowned and rose from his chair, palms stacked atop the end of Moonfire’s pommel.
“Why didn’t you ever come see me, Tyus?” Ivo’s voice raised. “I would expect both clergyman and friend to have wanted to check on me, offer condolences and actually be here for me. Not empty words. Even if the Church was targeting me, I would’ve never presumed you. But you’ve avoided me. I can’t imagine that’s by accident.”
He was right. Tyus had made a mistake these past weeks in not showing concern or worry for him. He could have investigated what happened while also being at Ivo’s side to help him through his sorrows and plant the seeds of a closer relationship. And prevent his apparent madness. The business with “Holland” had been a distraction, though, that had cost him a handful of days.
“I’m sorry,” Tyus said with a deep sigh. He slid his hands and forearms beneath his robe. “I should have come to you. I guess I’ve been scared since that night too. The whole palace has been. You probably didn’t know this, but I was out in Agron this week and someone also tried to kill me. Held a dagger to my throat. Not any dagger…one made with iron. My servant based him from behind and we ran away. Since then, I’ve been looking over my shoulder everywhere I go. The fear…it’s exhausting. Your soldier banging at my door tonight just about stopped my heart. So I cannot imagine what you’re going through.”
Ivo’s gaze darted to Tyus’s arms and neck. “Iron?”
Tyus nodded.
“And you would know what it looks like? Compared to stone or bone?” Ivo asked.
Tyus tilted his head and glared. Of course he knew.
Ivo carried his sword over to the window and leaned himself against the sill with his back facing Tyus. His clothes danced with the irregular gusts of wind flowing through.
“I need to know that you weren’t involved in Eddara’s murder,” he said as he looked down toward the city. The open air stole some of the boom of his voice. “And I’ve lost my trust in words. I can’t recognize the truth anymore. Not on my own. All I know is she wouldn’t torment me like this without reason. It took weeks and weeks until she found a way to tell me why.”
“My lord, I need to be frank with you, and I’m willing to because I know you can take accept my meaning and assume nothing more,” Tyus said with gentle timbre. “Either your wife haunts you and you have some unprecedented gift of spiritual vision…or, the most likely explanation: you’re heartbroken. Your mind wants nothing more than for her to still be here with us. And it will torment you and fool you however it can to make that your new reality, for the rest of your life.”
Ivo turned around to Tyus and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. The boom of his voice returned. “You said yourself you’ve never heard of this. I’ve scoured literature, scripture, but nothing is there either. My mind isn’t the problem. The problem is that I haven’t thrown my weight behind the Church. My full support. Even the man I trust most in this world says it. But…I bet you a new Crown Lord might. Especially if there’s a deal in place.”
“I understand why—" Tyus began to say.
“Confront your people in the Church,” Ivo said over him. “I demand it. Use any means to figure out who did it. And why. If you won’t help me, then as God is true, I will march into the Church myself, and I promise you I won’t be alone.”
Sweat raced down Tyus’s sides and back. His mouth dropped into a frown. He had defended himself, but this was not the outcome he was hoping for. Ivo's vulnerability was to be an opportunity to gain more influence over him. But Ivo was acting too unpredictable and emotional and would not follow Tyus's lead.
“If I agree to this, promise me you won’t let these hallu—these visions make you reckless. Don’t act without evidence, please. I will help you find the truth, but I can’t promise it’s what you think it is. We have to be careful. You have an army, Ivo… This conversation is dangerous. The Church, the faith, provides stability to the Crownlands. And the other Crowns will surely defend that.”
“Stability on their terms,” Ivo sighed, then leaned back against the windowsill. A misty gust of wind met his face as he looked over his shoulder, downward toward the Church. “If this is what I think it is, they took my heart. My soul. Don’t betray me. Because those who have will soon find out how dangerous a heartless enemy is.”

Source: The La Vista Church of Christ
God is the proper source of authority in religious matters. Our authority must come from heaven and not from men (Matthew 21:25). God has given authority to His Son, Who gave the Holy Spirit to the apostles. These and other inspired men have written the New Testament. Consider, then, the proper way to understand how God is speaking to us today through the New Testament.

Communication from God

God reveals His wisdom and power through His creation (Psalms 19:1; Romans 1:20), but He has revealed His mind and will to us through the Scriptures. Some people have the idea that the Bible can't be understood by ordinary people. They mistakenly believe one must be gifted or specially trained to properly understand the Bible.
God created man and He created communication. He knows how we learn and comprehend, so He understands perfectly how to communicate His will to us. God's word is meant to be understood (Ephesians 3:4). We can understand the New Testament by following the rules we use to communicate with one another: we listen to what others say and watch what others do.

Direct Statements and Commands

God's word speaks to us through direct statements of truth to be believed and commands to be obeyed. When the New Testament says Jesus is the Son of God (John 20:31), we are to believe this truth. When it commands us to repent and be baptized for the remission of our sins (Acts 2:38), we know we must meet these conditions to receive this great blessing.

Approved Examples

Sometimes God's will can be understood by following the examples of those who were acting with His authority. The apostle Paul told the Philippians, "Brethren, join in following my example, and note those who so walk, as you have us for a pattern" (Philippians 3:17). The apostles taught believers to observe all things commanded by the Lord (Matthew 28:20). Their obedient actions are a pattern for us to safely follow today.

Necessary Inference

Sometimes we communicate with one another by "filling in the gaps." An inference is when we aren't told something specifically but understand it must be true from what we are told. For example, if I told you that I attended the funeral of a friend, you would probably offer condolences for the passing of my friend. I didn't specifically say that my friend died, but you correctly understood this to be true from what I told you. God's word does this as well.

An Illustration: The Lord's Supper

All of these methods are used regarding the Lord's Supper. The observance of this memorial is a command "received from the Lord" (I Corinthians 11:23). He commands us to "do this in remembrance of Me" (I Corinthians 11:24-25). Through direct statements, we know the elements of the Supper are bread and fruit of the vine (Matthew 26:26-29). Following the approved example of the church in Troas, we assemble to partake of the Supper on the first day of the week (Acts 20:7). Using necessary inference, we know the bread must be unleavened because this was the only bread available as Jesus was instituting the Supper (Matthew 26:17, 26). The frequency of this memorial is also established using necessary inference. Every week has a first day (Sunday), so it is necessary for us to infer that the church in Troas assembled to partake of the Lord's Supper every first day of the week (Acts 20:7).
These basic rules of communication are how we can properly understand God's will from the New Testament.

I’ve heard it said that celebrity deaths, eerily, occur in threes. For instance, Ed McMahon (June 23, 2009), Farrah Fawcett (June 25, 2009), and Michael Jackson (June 25, 2009). Or David Bowie (January 10, 2016), Alan Rickman (January 14, 2016), and Glenn Frey (January 18, 2016).
My family members aren’t celebrities, but it’s bizarre how their deaths also occurred back-to-back-to-back like they did. On a Thursday evening, my parents were driving home from a restaurant on the outskirts of Austin, Texas when my Dad swerved to avoid hitting a deer, went off the road, and plowed into a massive oak tree, killing them both. The following Tuesday, just after we’d returned from their funerals to our house in Houston, my fitness-obsessed husband Mark out of nowhere suffered a major heart attack and died within minutes, widowing me and leaving our 17-year-old without a father. And then a week after that, right after burying my husband, I got a call that my brother Johnny, my only sibling, was killed in what the police described as “an animal attack” at his home in rural Colorado; they weren’t sure if it was a bear or a mountain lion that mauled him.
It’s this final tragedy that several days later brings me and my only remaining family member, my son Dane, to the office of my late brother’s lawyer near Denver. Neither of us wants to be here, still too consumed by grief. But we were already in town to arrange and attend Johnny’s funeral and, at this lawyer’s request, agreed to stop by this late afternoon.
After handing us cold bottled waters and offering his condolences once more, the lawyer, a heavily-wrinkled, older gentleman named Warren, gets to the matter at hand.
“Now Mrs. Larkin,” he begins, consulting some paperwork on his desk in front of him, “as I’m sure you’re aware, your brother was quite wealthy.”
I am aware.
As far back as I can remember, my brother Johnny really only cared about two things: science fiction and fantasy. He was the prototypical smart, nerdy kid growing up in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s who played Dungeons & Dragons with his friends, quoted Star Wars constantly, and treated The Lord of the Rings like it was Holy Scripture.
In college he was inspired by the futuristic technology used by Tom Cruise’s Pre-Crime division in Minority Report and created some kind of virtual reality software program that several Silicon Valley tech companies got into a heated bidding war for; the winner paid “an undisclosed amount” for it, which I heard was north of $50 million.
After the check cleared, Johnny dropped out of college and then essentially dropped out of our family. He moved to Colorado, bought some isolated mansion surrounded by land, and lived there pretty much like a hermit from what I was told. His visits during the holidays became less and less frequent, and he never invited me or my parents his way. Honestly, over the past 25 years, I’ve only seen him a handful of times, which seemed to be just how he wanted it.
“Mrs. Larkin?” Warren says.
“Sorry,” I say, embarrassed that I let my mind wander down Memory Lane. I glance at Dane in the chair next to mine, and he gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Here,” Warren says, holding out a thick stack of papers held together by a black binder clip. “This is a list of Johnny’s assets – soon to be your assets.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking the papers. I flip through them, stopping on a page that itemizes my brother’s “Real Estate Holdings.” There’s his residence near Denver, of course – a second home in Bangor, Maine that I’ve never heard of – what appears to a beach house in Malibu that I also know nothing about – and a fourth entry with no address that sounds odd.
“What’s Mythical Manor?” I ask.
Warren eyes the page. “That was my question too,” he says, “when I asked your brother for an updated asset schedule, and he included that.”
“What did he say it is?”
“He’d never give me an answer. He’d just reply with a wink emoji. But you know Johnny – he could be like that sometimes. Or a lot of the time.”
“Honestly,” I say, “I don’t know Johnny. I guess I never did – at least not since we were kids.”
“That’s too bad,” the lawyer says, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a set of keys. “But maybe you can get to know him by what he left behind.”
​
“What do you think it is?” Dane asks me when we’re back in our airport rental car, traveling away from Warren’s office and toward Johnny’s house – well, his primary house.
“What?” I ask, changing lanes.
“Mythical Manor,” he says. “Do you think it’s mythical? Like it doesn’t exist?”
“Who knows? Your uncle Johnny was an odd duck.”
“I barely remember him. I remember he had glasses and like a really thick beard, like a homeless guy.”
“Or Santa Claus.”
“Speaking of mythical…” my son says, and we share a quick smile.
​
Johnny’s mansion is about what I expected – rustic and underfurnished, with some rooms sitting practically empty. It’s like the teenage boy I remember got older but never grew up.
Dane and I head out to the unfenced backyard to get a closer look at the Olympic-sized pool, which, despite it being July and prime swim season, is covered in at least several months’ worth of leaves.
“Not a shopper or a swimmer,” I say, more to myself than to my son. “Wonder how he spent his time.”
“There’s the guest house,” Dane says, gazing into the distance at a small bungalow that stands alone.
He moves toward it, but I tense up. You see, I told him that his uncle died from a wild animal attack on the property, but I didn’t get into specifics. The reality is Johnny’s body was found inside the guest house (by his cleaning service), lying on the tile floor. The police said he must’ve been mauled outside, then managed to escape into the guest house and shut the door behind him. Unfortunately, at that point the damage had already been done, and he soon after succumbed to his injuries.
When the police told me their theory, a thought crossed my mind that I never vocalized: why would a guy with no guests be hanging out over by his guest house?
Warren assured me that the death scene has been cleaned up, but in case it hasn’t, I don’t want my son traumatized by what he might see. So I catch up to him and say, “Let me go in first.”
“Okay,” Dane says, never one to be overly inquisitive – which sometimes drives me crazy but is a blessing at the moment.
We reach the guest house, having verified that no wild animals are in the area. I grip the door knob, expecting it to be locked and to need to pull out Johnny’s key ring from my pants pocket. But to my surprise, the door is unlocked, and I’m glad now that I ran and caught up to Dane.
I push the door open, fearing the worse. But the tile floor is spotless, and everything looks to be in order.
Dane and I step inside, and he closes the door behind us. The place actually looks a lot more homey and lived-in than the main house. Books line the built-in bookshelves that cover the entire right wall, and the bed in the bedroom to the left looks slept in.
“I’m thirsty,” my son says, heading toward the refrigerator in the compact kitchen in front of us.
I watch him go, my strapping six-foot-five offspring that somehow came from my five-foot-two body. My husband was tall – but not that tall. I tell Dane he’s so big because I breastfed him for two full years, which grosses him out but honestly might’ve contributed to his size.
While he rummages through the fridge, I can’t help but give the tile floor at my feet another look. It’s hard to believe that this is where my brother, my own flesh and flood, breathed his last just a few days ago.
My eyes move up from the floor to the sprawling bookcase. The expected sci-fi and fantasy titles fill the shelves, but what looks like our childhood collection of Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys mysteries are also here, situated about halfway up. I feel a sudden rush of affection for Johnny that I haven’t felt in a long while; I guess nostalgia can be a powerful force.
I pull out The Hidden Staircase, which, if I recall correctly, is one of the very first Nancy Drew entries and also one of my favorites. As I study its exterior, I notice that a tiny speck of something red is dried on its old spine. Could it be blood?
I replace the book on the shelf and take a step back, examining the titles around it. My eyes widen as I notice more red specks on other books. They’re miniscule but definitely there.
The police made it sound like this mountain lion or whatever it was clawed and bit my brother several times, then he ducked inside, collapsed on the floor, and died. But if that’s what happened, why is there what appears to be blood on the bookcase? And why is it over waist-high?
Did Johnny lean against the bookshelf before he fell to the floor? It’s possible. It’s also possible that he didn’t die the way the police think he did.
I take another look at The Hidden Staircase, the gears in my mind turning.
Dane rejoins me, swigging a 20-ounce bottle of Dr. Pepper and noticing my quizzical expression. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe nothing. Help me take these books down.”
“All of ‘em? That’s a lot of books.”
“Humor me.”
My son sighs, sets his soda on the floor, and starts pulling down the books. He starts on the top shelf, which, given my short stature, I appreciate. I tackle the bottom rows, piling the books on the floor as orderly as I can.
“That’s weird,” Dane says.
“What?”
“This one won’t come down. It’s, like, stuck.”
I stand back and see what he’s talking about: there’s a red book on a row near the top that he’s trying to yank down, but it won’t budge.
“Try pushing up,” I say.
“Okay.”
He does, and my suspicions are confirmed when a latch is released, and a door embedded in the bookshelf cracks open.
“Whoa, secret passage,” Dane says, pushing the door open wide.
Beyond the doorway is a small, non-descript room that is empty except for a circular stone staircase that descends underground.
“Probably leads to the main house,” he says, “in a closet or something. Let’s check it out.”
“Hold on,” I say, sighing. “Look, your uncle’s body was found here, in the guest house. It’s possible the animal that attacked him is down there.”
Dane ponders this. “Was the door to the guest house found open or closed?”
“Closed.”
“Then the animal couldn’t have gotten inside.”
I consider this, unsure what to think.
“Besides,” my son says, “even if it is down there – which it isn’t – it’ll have gone days now without food or water. It’ll be too weak to mess with us.”
“I don’t know…”
“Plus, I always keep a pocket knife on my keychain.”
“You got it?”
“Right here,” he says, patting a bulge in his jeans pocket.
“Well—”
“It’s fine,” my 17-year-old says in his patented sing-song, dismissive tone that he uses whenever he thinks I’m worrying too much about something. Then he starts down the staircase.
I take a deep breath and follow, a little anxious.
What we find at the bottom of the stairs is much more than a tunnel connecting to the main house – it’s a grand hallway adjoining a series of rooms that seems to go on and on. And all of it looks medieval by design: stone walls and stone floors, old-fashioned sconces with flickering flames, elaborate tapestries hung all around – even several suits of armor standing sentinel.
“What is this?” I ask, awestruck.
“It’s like the cellar of a castle,” Dane says – and he’s right.
I peer into a nearby room that seems to break with the Middle Ages-inspired décor; inside are several computers on desks, lots of computer equipment on shelves, and a rat’s nest of computer cords.
I notice in a corner a giant, high-tech-looking metal cylinder mounted on a swivel that’s pointed toward a double-door closet. “What in the world?” I say.
“Is that some kind of cannon?” my son asks.
“Looks like something from NASA.”
“Why’s it aimed at the closet?” Dane asks, walking toward it. He yanks open the double doors to find it vacant, with just a blank stone wall facing us. However, the stone appears darker here than in other places underground, like maybe it was burned. Can you even burn stone?
I was about to ask Dane his thoughts on the matter, but my A.D.D. teenager is already moving on to the next room. I catch up to him, finding ourselves in an enormous walk-in pantry, with rows and rows of canned food stacked on shelves and giant sacks of grain piled on the floor next to countless gallon-sized water jugs.
“What on Earth,” I say. “How does one guy need all of this?”
“I don’t know,” Dane says. “What do you think happened here?” He points with his foot to a sack in a corner labeled “Barley” that’s been torn open, its contents partially spilled out.
“Looks like it was clawed—” I stop short as I hear something a ways off.
It sounds like a grunt.
Dane and I trade looks. “Is that a dog?” he asks.
“Shhh – maybe it’s the wild animal,” I whisper, fearful.
The grunt comes again, louder. Closer.
“Get your pocket knife out.”
Dane reaches into his pocket and pulls out his key ring.
“Oh crap,” he whispers. “I forgot.”
“What?”
“Airport security made me leave the knife there.”
Suddenly I remember too, wincing.
“Sorry,” Dane adds.
I glance around the room for a possible weapon, spotting the canned food next to us. I pick up two cans of beans and hand one of them to my son.
“Better than nothing,” I whisper. “Let’s get out of here.”
We tiptoe back into the hallway, peering in both directions. But there’s no sign of any animal.
Then what emerges from a room in the distance is a creature that my terrified mind can barely process. It spots us, stopping in its tracks.
“Mom,” Dane mutters, sounding as petrified as I feel.
The beast resembles a lion, but it also has a second head – that of a long-horned goat – and a tail that ends in a third head, that of a venomous snake.
“That can’t be real,” I gasp.
The monster seems to challenge my statement, letting out a guttural roar from the mouth of its lion head.
As it does, I notice the dried blood around its mouth and the mouth of the goat head – and I know what really happened to my brother.
The creature then lowers itself onto its haunches, growling at us, looking ready to strike at any second.
Dane hurls his can of beans down the hallway at it and misses high. “Come on,” he says, taking my can from me. He tries again and pegs this abomination squarely in the chest, causing it to yelp in pain. “Bullseye!” he says, smiling.
Then all hell breaks loose as the furious beast charges toward us.
“Run!” Dane yells.
He retreats, sprinting back toward the circular stone staircase, with me on his heels. Neither of us dares to glance back at the stuff of nightmares that’s barreling after us.
Dane reaches the staircase, spins, and ushers me past him. “Go!” he hollers, gallantly pushing me up the first few steps. I obey, too frazzled to argue.
I hear my son rushing up the winding stairs behind me, then another roar from the creature, which sounds very close by.
“We’re not gonna make it,” he says, breathless.
I peer back and witness a horrifying sight: this three-headed monstrosity lunging up the stairs after us. Then Dane falls onto his back and puts his legs up in the air, looking like he’s about to do leg presses – which he does when he’s working out for football.
“What are you—” I begin to scream, frantic, just as the beast pounces onto my son’s prone body, the jaws of the lion head open wide, its sharp, blood-stained teeth showing.
With a loud grunt, Dane kicks with all of his might, and the beast goes flying backward, falling topsy-turvy down the staircase with an anguished cry. Then there’s a loud cracking noise like snapping vertebrae, and the only sound that can be heard is the labored panting from my son and me.
“It’s dead,” he says.
You don’t know that,” I say.
“It broke its neck.”
“Which one?” Not a question I ever thought I’d ask.
Mounted on the wall next to the stairs ahead of us are crisscrossing old swords, more medieval decorations. Without a word Dane dashes up the stairs, leans over, snatches a sword off the wall, and starts hurrying back down with it.
“I’ll check,” he says, moving past me.
“Dane William Larkin!” I yell after him, alarmed and angry.
“Erica Bryn Larkin,” he says, mocking me playfully, not stopping.
“Get back up here!”
“One sec!”
I sigh heavily and move to fetch the other sword, just in case. As I reach for its handle, I notice dried blood on it. Did Johnny also reach for it after he’d been attacked by that horror show? Was he too weak to wield it? For whatever reason, he decided not to fight and instead to retreat to safety in the guest house.
Clutching my sword, I find Dane at the bottom of the stairs, ramming the tip of his sword repeatedly into the belly of the prone beast. If it wasn’t dead before, it should be now. All three of its heads are motionless, and its six eyes are closed.
“Got ‘em,” I say.
“Got it,” he says, propping his blood-stained sword against the stone wall. “It’s one creature.”
“There are three heads, Dane. I think that qualifies as them.”
“It’s got one bod—”
Dane breaks off, gasping, as the presumably dead monster’s snake head lashes out toward his leg, fangs bared. Without hesitation I swing my sword down hard and decapitate it.
“Oh my gosh,” he says. “Thanks.”
“I thought it was dead,” I say in a sing-song tone, giving him a hard time.
“It should’ve been.”
My son frowns, humbled, giving the severed snake head a swift kick down the hallway.
“What do you suppose it is?” I ask, studying the corpse.
“Could it be some kind of science experiment?” Dane asks. “Like, merging lion DNA with goat and snake DNA?”
“I don’t think that works,” I say.
He notices a recessed area off the hallway and walks toward it, partially disappearing inside. “Whoa, check it out.”
“Better not be another creature,” I say.
“It’s not,” my son says, reaching in and taking hold of something. When he turns back to me, he’s gripping two black guns with long, narrow barrels. “Tranquilizer guns.”
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“Because I know guns.”
“How?”
“YouTube.” Dane steps into the recessed area again. “Here are the tranq darts.”
“Do you know how to load ‘em?” I ask.
“Duh.”
I sigh. The lesson in humility was a brief one, it seems.
Minutes later, each of us is brandishing a loaded tranq gun as we further explore this Middle Ages basement.
We come to a drawn black curtain that covers an entire doorway. As Dane goes to pull the curtain aside, I grab his shoulder. “Be ready,” I say.
He nods, yanking the curtain aside, and what we see inside this new room makes me gasp. Against the right wall is a large, thick Plexiglass enclosure, like something you’d find at a zoo. And locked inside the enclosure is a white horse with wings.
“Oh my gosh,” Dane says.
My eyes drift up to the top of the enclosure where I see an engraved metal sign attached that reads: PEGASUS.
“What is this?” I mutter, dumbfounded.
“This,” my son says, “is Mythical Manor.”
The Pegasus sees us and moves to its empty food dish, whinnying.
Dane eyes another drawn curtain on the opposite wall. He moves toward it, carrying his tranq gun, with me right behind him, carrying mine.
He pulls the curtain aside, revealing another room with another Plexiglass enclosure that contains a large, bearded being with one eye in the center of his forehead. The engraved sign reads: CYCLOPS.
“Hi,” Dane says to him.
The Cyclops rushes up to the laminated glass and slams a fist into it, which makes me jump. Then he grunts loudly and turns his back to us.
I spy another drawn curtain on the far wall and walk to it, with Dane following me. I pull it aside, bracing for whatever weirdness awaits us.
Inside this room’s enclosure is a creature with the lower body of a horse but the upper body and head of an old woman, her bare chest covered by her long, grey hair. As you might suspect, the sign reads: CENTAUR.
“Hi,” I say to this more normal-looking being – normal by mythical standards anyway.
“Hi,” she says back.
“I can’t believe you’re real,” Dane says.
The elderly Centaur smiles weakly at him. “As real as you are.”
“Sorry – it’s just I was always told centaurs are make-believe.”
“Where I’m from, humans are make-believe,” she says. “At least they were until the dark day he showed up.”
“Who?” I ask.
The Centaur turns to me. “The man who hunts us and keeps us captive here, for his own amusement.”
“Johnny?”
“That’s him.”
“But how?”
“Through a gateway he found between this world and ours, using some magic he calls a laser.”
So that’s what that high-tech cylinder thing is.
“Look, we’re sorry,” I say. “We don’t want to keep you captive.”
“What about him?” she asks. “He left days ago and hasn’t been back.”
“He’s dead. The lion-goat-snake creature killed him.”
“Oh, a chimera. It must’ve gotten out of its cage.”
“How?” Dane asks.
“Well, he did feed us – maybe he wasn’t careful enough.” She gestures to her empty food and water bowls. “It’s been a while.”
“There’s food and water in the pantry,” I say.
“Will you please let me out?” she asks.
“How?” my son asks.
“There’s a button on the wall behind you. It opens a door on the cage.”
Dane goes to locate the wall button while I grip my tranq gun a little tighter. She seems friendly enough, but my encounter with the Chimera has me wary of all mythical creatures.
My son presses the button, and a door in the Plexiglass enclosure springs open.
The Centaur gallops out of the enclosure and then around the room.
Dane and I share a look that says, “Can you believe this is actually happening?”
She finally stops next to us. “Sorry, just needed to stretch my legs.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “So how many, uh, beings from your world are here?”
“How many cages are there?”
“I don’t know.”
“When I was captured, there was an ogre, an imp, a banshee, a goblin, and a gnome – but it’s been a while. No telling how many are here now.”
“Well,” Dane says, “we’re gonna help you all get home.”
I glare at my son for making such a stupid promise. “Dane, how? They’ll kill us.”
“Not with these,” he says, gesturing to our tranquilizer guns. “Besides,” he says, turning to the Centaur, “you’re gonna help us, right?”
“Of course.”
I turn to her. “Can you convince them not to hurt us?”
The Centaur shakes her head. “Some of them would attack me, and I didn’t cage them.”
“Neither did we.”
“Listen, we’ll figure out a way. Why don’t I go eat while you two take inventory? Then we’ll meet back here and formulate a plan.”
“Okay,” my son says.
“I’m Honotia, by the way.”
“I’m Dane, and this is my Mom, Erica.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” she says. “Thanks for freeing me.”
Honotia smiles and gallops away. We watch her go, still stunned by everything we’ve witnessed this evening – which has probably turned to night by now.
We take our tranq guns and continue our sweep of the premises. I use the camera on my phone to start cataloguing every creature that my insane brother somehow invented a way to access and capture. I see things that I know will give me bad dreams for years, but I power through. Others, like a beautiful mermaid in a water tank, are pleasant sights to behold.
Dane and I finally reach what looks to be the final room and the final enclosure. Inside it lies a thin middle-aged man in tattered clothes, who appears to be sleeping.
My son and I exchange looks of surprise.
“Hello?” I call.
The man peers up at us, then slowly gets to his feet. “Hello,” he says. “Who are you?”
“We’re, uh, heirs to this place.”
“Heirs? Is Johnny dead?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” the man says. “I worked for him here.”
“You did?” Dane asks.
“Yeah – until he started mistreating the creatures. I told him it wasn’t right. He got mad and shot me with one of those,” he says, pointing to Dane’s tranquilizer gun. “When I woke up, I found myself locked in here, the cage for his next conquest.”
My son turns to me. “Mom, I’m sorry – but your brother was a monster,” he says. “We gotta let him out.”
Dane moves toward the opposing wall. I eye the man, who’s watching my son intently. My gaze moves up to the top of the enclosure, where the engraved sign reads: LYCANTHROPE. What the heck is that?
I’m about to ask the man when I hear my son hit the wall button, and the door in the enclosure opens.
The man steps out. “Thanks,” he says.
“No problem,” Dane says.
The man offers a hand to him. “Boris.”
My son shakes it. “Dane, and that’s my Mom, Erica.”
“Pleasure,” Boris says, outstretching a hand to me and smiling.
I shake it, but something in his smile causes a feeling of uneasiness to come over me.
Boris points to the tranq gun in my hand. “Mind if I take a look?”
I hesitate, not wanting to hand my only weapon over to this stranger.
He seems to sense my reluctance and spins toward my son. “Can I take a quick look at yours?”
“Sure,” Dane says, handing the tranq gun over.
I tense as Boris examines the gun.
“Sorry about my brother,” I say.
Boris nods, then turns his back to us.
Dane and I trade looks of concern.
I clear my throat. “Clearly he had a side to him I didn’t know about.”
“So do I,” says Boris. Somehow, his back appears to morph, seeming to expand. Then there’s the sound of snapping metal, and he drops the tranq gun to the stone floor.
I glance down and see that the gun has been broken into two pieces.
My son and I lock eyes, terrified.
Then we watch as Boris turns to us, his face now monstrous.
“Ah, a full moon,” he growls.

Thank you to everyone that sent scriptures, silent prayers and condolences during a most difficult time of losing my father. It’s been day 2 and I am having real bad anxiety and some occasional panic attacks. Asking for guidance, words of encouragement to help me pull through this. I was always a daddy girl from the day I entered this world, until he departed . I know in my heart God has him now, but it still hurts to have watched him suffer till the end. I miss him dearly

God is the proper source of authority in religious matters. Our authority must come from heaven and not from men (Matthew 21:25). God has given authority to His Son, Who gave the Holy Spirit to the apostles. These and other inspired men have written the New Testament. Consider, then, the proper way to understand how God is speaking to us today through the New Testament.

Communication from God

God reveals His wisdom and power through His creation (Psalms 19:1; Romans 1:20), but He has revealed His mind and will to us through the Scriptures. Some people have the idea that the Bible can't be understood by ordinary people. They mistakenly believe one must be gifted or specially trained to properly understand the Bible.
God created man and He created communication. He knows how we learn and comprehend, so He understands perfectly how to communicate His will to us. God's word is meant to be understood (Ephesians 3:4). We can understand the New Testament by following the rules we use to communicate with one another: we listen to what others say and watch what others do.

Direct Statements and Commands

God's word speaks to us through direct statements of truth to be believed and commands to be obeyed. When the New Testament says Jesus is the Son of God (John 20:31), we are to believe this truth. When it commands us to repent and be baptized for the remission of our sins (Acts 2:38), we know we must meet these conditions to receive this great blessing.

Approved Examples

Sometimes God's will can be understood by following the examples of those who were acting with His authority. The apostle Paul told the Philippians, "Brethren, join in following my example, and note those who so walk, as you have us for a pattern" (Philippians 3:17). The apostles taught believers to observe all things commanded by the Lord (Matthew 28:20). Their obedient actions are a pattern for us to safely follow today.

Necessary Inference

Sometimes we communicate with one another by "filling in the gaps." An inference is when we aren't told something specifically but understand it must be true from what we are told. For example, if I told you that I attended the funeral of a friend, you would probably offer condolences for the passing of my friend. I didn't specifically say that my friend died, but you correctly understood this to be true from what I told you. God's word does this as well.

An Illustration: The Lord's Supper

All of these methods are used regarding the Lord's Supper. The observance of this memorial is a command "received from the Lord" (I Corinthians 11:23). He commands us to "do this in remembrance of Me" (I Corinthians 11:24-25). Through direct statements, we know the elements of the Supper are bread and fruit of the vine (Matthew 26:26-29). Following the approved example of the church in Troas, we assemble to partake of the Supper on the first day of the week (Acts 20:7). Using necessary inference, we know the bread must be unleavened because this was the only bread available as Jesus was instituting the Supper (Matthew 26:17, 26). The frequency of this memorial is also established using necessary inference. Every week has a first day (Sunday), so it is necessary for us to infer that the church in Troas assembled to partake of the Lord's Supper every first day of the week (Acts 20:7).
These basic rules of communication are how we can properly understand God's will from the New Testament.

Sorry everybody, I was sick with COVID in my last post and it looked crazy (bullet point format and all that). Outside of my COVID delirium I give you this more ordered and coherent post:
So, there's no way to really out-war the War God who SPEAKS IN ALL CAPS; how will our team of guardians and their allies fight this threat? It reminds me of a line from my religious tradition (and I'm sure many other traditions have similar scripture), "When a thought of war comes, oppose it by a stronger thought of peace".
I know this might get a lot of negative traction, but no one thought Savathûn would do what she did, either, with giving up to the Traveler and relying on its mercy.
I think we (ie the forces of the light) must attempt peace with the War God (please read on before you type away). It's what we've been learning to do with the exiles of Torobatl and the House of Light, the Spider, Saint-14 with the Eliksni, Lord Saladin with the Cabal, etc, etc.
It's been established many times that the more we gather our forces, the more we chip away at Xivu's troops, the more we launch our supers and fire our bullets, the more we worship Xivu Aurath and feed her dark power. What then is left to us? Can it be that if we try to make peace, try to call for parlay, give our condolences for her suffering, that she would melt away like the Wicked Witch of the West?
We have cause to be genuine in our sympathy, she was tricked by an intergalactic demon into eternal service. I'm not saying it's as easy as the power of friendship killing her, but certainly there were many voices saying we could never do it with the Eliksni and the Cabal, and here we are. Perhaps Savathûun will help us? Perhaps many good guardians will die in the effort, but I think to strip Xivu of her power, we must show compassion and empathy for her sorry state.
You can begin to roast me, now, and call me naïve but I simply wanted to put this out so I can say "I told you so" when the time comes.
Traveler bless. Happy New Year. Much Love.

During my pre and early teen years my father moved us several times; from Battle Ground, WA to Pilot Rock, OR to Clarkston, WA, Council Bluffs, IA, then, finally back to Maple Valley, WA.
During those years, my dad worked selling tires on the road, tanning hides and selling magazines via the phone.
The last move was especially embarrassing: Dad had ordered me to have the trailer loaded by the time he got home and I did that, but, he also wanted all the rattan furniture one of the brothers had given us burned.
That older brother showed up just in time to see the burning embers of that fire, asking: "Did you just burn the furniture I gave you?"
I shook my head and lied.
But, during those years, 11-15, I met two JW men that influenced me, shaped me more than my own father ever did.
At about age 12 I met Charlie Maxwell in Clarkson, WA. He'd been a Bethelite in the 50's and learned that "the organization is made up of imperfect people."
Yet, he was a Regular Pioneer living with a legally blind father and talented mother, both Special Pioneers.
Charlie was a clean-shaven version of Grizzly Adams, who loved the outdoors, fishing and hunting.
As a teenager he'd tormented his parents by going on hunting, fishing, hiking trips alone, staying in the wilderness for two weeks without even telling them where he was going.
"They knew I was in the woods," he told me.
While the Maxwells lived in Washington State, they were actually assigned to the congregation just across the border in Lewiston, Idaho.
The Lewiston, Idaho congregation was large for those days, but, mostly elderly with a large geographic territory to cover.
My sister and I pioneered all summer with Charlie. After service he would take us to the Clearwater River for a little dip and to show off his German Mauser rifle and his illegal spearfishing gun.
Once, when I held the spear gun up in plane sight, Charlie shouted: "Put that gawdamn thing down!"
These people lived simply and were all about what they considered to be true worship of a true god.
To Charlie, I was a golden child that would be wasted at Bethel.
"Jim, with your skills, you need to be at the door with a Bible in your hands," he would tell me.
At the Lewiston meeting one night, the Theocratic School overseer did something inappropriate. He called for a volunteer to give the number one talk the following week, called back then the Instruction Talk, normally reserved for appointed servants.
Yet, on that particular night, the only hand up was that of a 12 year old boy and, after scanning the audience several times, the overseer said: "OK, we'll let this young man give it a try."
So, at that tender age, I prepared the instruction talk on the Book of Ruth from the "Theocratic Aid to Kingdom Publishers" book.
Months later I would show my Speech Counsel Slip to another overseer and get assigned an Instruction Talk on the Gospel of John. LOL!
But, that summer with Charlie, I learned self-reliance for certain, despite never being interested in hunting or fishing.
Charlie Maxwell, I learned, eventually married a young JW woman, had ten children, living in Port Townsend, WA, then, finally, in Forks, WA where he died at age 62.
I will never forget Charlie.
At the age of 13, we moved back to the Kent, WA area, with my dad getting a job at Johnny's IGA courtesy of my Uncle Russ. giving our family some stability.
One day a brother showed up in his '47 Dodge. It was ex-Bethelite George Pringle, age 39, looking for a helper for his newly established janitorial business**.**
"Newly established" was perhaps an understatement as he had no janitorial accounts yet.
George wanted me to accompany him soliciting business and paid me $1.25 per hour to do that.
George was almost shaking when we went into Kent Electric to bid on maintaining their tile floors, that he'd not noticed their floor was concrete.
When the owner pointed that out, George, always quick on his feet, said: "Well, that's why we're here, to give you bid on tiling your floors."
"Well, give us a bid," the man replied.
After our bid was accepted, George turned to me and asked: "Jim, have you ever laid tile? Well, neither have I, but we're about to learn."
George pulled out the back seat and right bucket seat of the '47 Dodge to make room for janitorial equipment and supplies. I sat in front on the passenger side in an overturned mop bucket.
The money I earned that summer enabled me to attend the "Good News Around the World Assembly" in Pasadena, CA.
Not the Society, but a local brother had arranged transportation on a retired City of Tacoma bus and accommodations in an old hotel on Figuroa Street in Los Angeles condemned to eventually build the Los Angeles Music Center.
Many of the brothers and sisters on the bus were totally dissatisfied with the rooms, but I was fine with a clawed bath tub and patchwork quilt for 80 cents per night. I saw things from the hotel window I'd never seen before including a knifing.
There were 9 releases at that assembly including the Babylon the Great book, All Scripture is Inspired of God and Beneficial and a huge research, fully cross-referenced New World Translation in large print.
When I returned from the convention without copies of the releases for all seven in my family, my dad screamed at me that I was "selfish."
I continued working with George Pringle several nights per week, returning home usually at 2 or 3AM.
Occasionally, I would eat dinner with George's parents, both elderly and anti-JW.
His parents blamed George's habit to eat rapidly on that crazy Bethel he'd gone to, but considered me at 13 "a good influence on George."
They lived in a round house with flowery wall paper on the walls. You had to just "know" where the door handles were to find you way to the bedrooms or the indoor swimming pool. Outside their carport was a game room. A ping pong table fit over a pool table. George could never beat my at ping pong, so he'd lose a few games and we'd take the ping pong table off and play pool.
The bedroom consisted of 8 single beds lined up in a row. On the one night I stayed over, George's dad occupied bed number 1, his mom bed number 2, George bed number 3 and I got bed number 4.
Strange!
George was actually a brilliant man, diagnosed as manic-depressive.
While shock treatment had failed him, 2 or 3 hours on a piano playing boogie woogie would bring him up from depression.
Yet, he was actually a comedic genius, using wordplay, innuendo with a rapidfire delivery you laughed so hard you couldn't catch your breath.
George and I spent many nights together scrubbing floors on a homemade floor polisher of his design. I always used the buffer because George was afraid of electrical shock. Anyway, the pad sped so fast it could be difficult to control especially between the glass cases of Shaw Brothers Drugs in Renton, WA.
Sometimes, I wouldn't hear George for awhile and I would catch him reading a National Enquirer type publication. I'd have to remind him we'd be there all night if he didn't help.
George and I were cleaning the office of radio station the night after John F. Kennedy was assassinated. We spent some time next to the teletype machine reading the condolences from all over the world including one for Nikita Krushchev of Russia.
When I was 17 and started pioneering, I had trouble finding a field service companion. George promised me two hours per day, saying "two hours a day will keep the devil away.!" He could not be budged over two hours, though. . LOL!
When I took my family back to Western Washington in 1981 my high school, a JW named Joe Mallory called George and he came for an hour or so, keeping us in stitches with Robin Williamsesque humor.
In one of my last conversations with my Uncle Joe, he described being with George when he died. He said George told him: "I love you," and he told George the same.
I wish I'd been there to do the same.