Those that aren't familiar with Tamar's story will be diberikan some background before I jump ahead. Tamar was a princess. She has at least two brothers, Absalom and Amnon. One night her brother has a servant call her to Amnon's chamber with special bread. So Tamar comes and long story short, Amnon rapes her. She will now forever be disgraced. Absalom, though angry, told her to keep quiet.
-Imagine Tamar: grief-stricken, sobbing, ashes on her head. Her body in a heap on the cold floor. Soot covers her beautiful face and smears the rich warna of her torn robe. Her outward appearance echoes the cavernous darkness in her soul. Hopelessness and death well up in her. She is nothing but a tomb.
The door of her room slowly creaks open. A stream of cloudy sunlight pours through the door. A figure of a man takes form within it. Not Absalom. No, she would recognize Absalom anywhere. Her jantung leaps with sickening terror; then the figure steps through the door and His visage becomes clear. Tamar had never seen Him before, yet He looks so familiar. Not frightening. And she should be frightened. No man should be entering her chamber. She should run, but she cannot seem to move.
She glances down at the hands that seem paralyzed on her lap, her palms covered with ash. She suddenly becomes shamefully aware of her appearance. Wretchedness sears her heart. She is certain her violated estate is obvious. She despises herself.
"Tamar," the man speaks gently and with warm familiarity .
Her jantung sobs," She is dead!" A slave of shame has taken her place.
He approaches and takes her face in His hands. No one has ever done that before. The overwhelming intimacy turns her face crimson, not with shame but with vulnerability. His thumbs sweep over her cheeks and wipe the tears from her face. As He takes Her hands from her face and places them on her head, her throat aches with fresh cries as she sees the filth on His hands. Her filth. He draws back His hands from her face and she senses something on her head. Perhaps in His mercy He has hooded her disgrace. The man offers her His hands, still covered with soot, and she takes them. Suddenly she is standing. Trembling. He leads her to the brass mirror hung on the wall. She turns her face away. He lifts her chin. She gives the mirror only a glance. Her jantung is startled. She begins to stare. Her face is no longer streaked with dirt. Her cheeks are blushed with beauty; her eyes are clear and bright. A crown sits on her head, and a veil flows from its jewels to her shoulders. Her torn mantel is gone. A garmen, pakaian of fine white linen graces her neck and adorns her frame. The King's daughter., pure and undefiled. Beauty from ashes.- This could've been her story but it can be yours for sure. Every girl deals with insecurity and with Christ we can experience newness, freshness, beauty, youthfulness, and innocence. Whatever anda have done atau whatever has been done to you, anda can always come back to Jesus' arms.
-Imagine Tamar: grief-stricken, sobbing, ashes on her head. Her body in a heap on the cold floor. Soot covers her beautiful face and smears the rich warna of her torn robe. Her outward appearance echoes the cavernous darkness in her soul. Hopelessness and death well up in her. She is nothing but a tomb.
The door of her room slowly creaks open. A stream of cloudy sunlight pours through the door. A figure of a man takes form within it. Not Absalom. No, she would recognize Absalom anywhere. Her jantung leaps with sickening terror; then the figure steps through the door and His visage becomes clear. Tamar had never seen Him before, yet He looks so familiar. Not frightening. And she should be frightened. No man should be entering her chamber. She should run, but she cannot seem to move.
She glances down at the hands that seem paralyzed on her lap, her palms covered with ash. She suddenly becomes shamefully aware of her appearance. Wretchedness sears her heart. She is certain her violated estate is obvious. She despises herself.
"Tamar," the man speaks gently and with warm familiarity .
Her jantung sobs," She is dead!" A slave of shame has taken her place.
He approaches and takes her face in His hands. No one has ever done that before. The overwhelming intimacy turns her face crimson, not with shame but with vulnerability. His thumbs sweep over her cheeks and wipe the tears from her face. As He takes Her hands from her face and places them on her head, her throat aches with fresh cries as she sees the filth on His hands. Her filth. He draws back His hands from her face and she senses something on her head. Perhaps in His mercy He has hooded her disgrace. The man offers her His hands, still covered with soot, and she takes them. Suddenly she is standing. Trembling. He leads her to the brass mirror hung on the wall. She turns her face away. He lifts her chin. She gives the mirror only a glance. Her jantung is startled. She begins to stare. Her face is no longer streaked with dirt. Her cheeks are blushed with beauty; her eyes are clear and bright. A crown sits on her head, and a veil flows from its jewels to her shoulders. Her torn mantel is gone. A garmen, pakaian of fine white linen graces her neck and adorns her frame. The King's daughter., pure and undefiled. Beauty from ashes.- This could've been her story but it can be yours for sure. Every girl deals with insecurity and with Christ we can experience newness, freshness, beauty, youthfulness, and innocence. Whatever anda have done atau whatever has been done to you, anda can always come back to Jesus' arms.
Dear World
I guess this is it as I write my last words I no longer have to suffer life's cruel torment, dear Brooke I want u to know ill always cinta u, dear Amanda maybe ill see anda in the place people call heaven. To the rest of anda I don't want anda crying when anda see atau read this....remember me like I'm still here I can no longer stand life's pain. I'm always the odd one out wishin 4 a miracle to come but it never did. B4 I go I leave u the pertanyaan I always asked.....WHY ME?! -Kieran Mckaylan-
I guess this is it as I write my last words I no longer have to suffer life's cruel torment, dear Brooke I want u to know ill always cinta u, dear Amanda maybe ill see anda in the place people call heaven. To the rest of anda I don't want anda crying when anda see atau read this....remember me like I'm still here I can no longer stand life's pain. I'm always the odd one out wishin 4 a miracle to come but it never did. B4 I go I leave u the pertanyaan I always asked.....WHY ME?! -Kieran Mckaylan-
anda know something, people cannot read minds. They cannot. It is a fact of life, for that we can be both grateful and sorry. There are some people in the world that curl up inside themselves and they ain’t gonna let nobody touch them.
That is what the issue becomes: the fact that everyone is nothing but human. Some people claim that they are strong, that nothing will ever hurt them. Well those are the kinds of people who tend to get hurt a lot and have for their entire lives.
These are the people we know, love, atau are.
We miss them.
I miss them.
To all of anda that have seen, to all of anda that have heard the screams:
Remember them.
And never do it again.
Let your emotion out, let it go, but never erase from your mind what happened.
And never. Ever. Put someone else in your place.
Honor is to take the bullet for someone anda protect, cinta is to take it for someone who anda don’t want to be hit.
So, do them a favor, and put down that fucking knife.
That is what the issue becomes: the fact that everyone is nothing but human. Some people claim that they are strong, that nothing will ever hurt them. Well those are the kinds of people who tend to get hurt a lot and have for their entire lives.
These are the people we know, love, atau are.
We miss them.
I miss them.
To all of anda that have seen, to all of anda that have heard the screams:
Remember them.
And never do it again.
Let your emotion out, let it go, but never erase from your mind what happened.
And never. Ever. Put someone else in your place.
Honor is to take the bullet for someone anda protect, cinta is to take it for someone who anda don’t want to be hit.
So, do them a favor, and put down that fucking knife.
I pull out one your years
the wet chain of torment
And I wish that I had a mother to cinta me
No sun shines on me
I want to be heard....but no one listens
mother,oh mother why did anda leave?
mother, oh mother why did anda deceive?
I was not allowed to be seen atau talked about, no one hid me atau shielded me
Nobody gave me susu atau love
Born oleh mistake and born a freak
The mother that never bore me
I tonight sworn onto
I will make it a fiery death
I throw myself into water and sink
mother, mother why did anda leave? mother, mother why did anda deceive?
In its lungs api burns
On my wrist an x is marked
Remove it with knifes kiss
Even if I must die too
mother, mother!
In its lungs api burns
On my wrist an x is marked
Remove it with knifes kiss
Even if I must die too
Oh give me strength