The Blood of Jesus Christ
The blood of Jesus Christ is a powerful weapon for spiritual warfare. Revelation 12:10-11 provides a vivid description of how the blood of Jesus was/will be used to ultimately defeat Satan:
"...for the accuser of our brethren, who accused them before our God day and night, has been cast down. And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they did not love their lives to the death" Revelation 12:10-11 NKJV
These Christians relied on the blood of Jesus (the Lamb) and their spoken testimony about Jesus to overcome Satan and the fear of death. In the same way, we can invoke the blood of Jesus along with our testimony to fight the spiritual battles we face.
How does the blood and the testimony work? Derek Prince, a respected authority in spiritual warfare, explains*: "It is when we testify personally to what the blood of Jesus does for us that we can claim all the benefits that God has provided for us through the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. Our bold, continuing personal testimony becomes the hyssop that applies the blood of Jesus to our lives." Hyssop was a plant the Israelites used to sprinkle the blood on their doorposts during Passover. Only then was the home protected from God's judgment.
Using the blood in spiritual warfare: We overcome Satan when we claim (pray, sing or state) what the blood does for us. Specifically, the blood:
* Redeems and cleanses me from past, present and future sin (Ephesians 1:7, 1 John 1:7)
* Justifies me, making me righteous, as if I had never sinned (Romans 5:9, Hebrews 13:12)
* Cleanses my mind and conscience from sin and the memories it created (Hebrews 9:14)
* Reconciles me with God, because Jesus bore all the punishment for my sin (Romans 5:1, 1 Peter 2:24); I am forgiven for all my sins (1 John 1:9)!
* Enables me to boldly approach God's throne without fear of punishment (Hebrews 10:19)
Praying the Blood: The following prayer is a good one to pray before you start the day, go to bed or any time you are going into a spiritual warfare situation.
"Lord, I cover myself and everyone around me with the blood of Jesus. I cover all of the members of my family (state them by name) with the blood of Jesus. I cover my home, my land, my car, my finances, my marriage, my ministry, with the blood of Jesus. In the Name of Jesus Christ, by the power of His blood, I break off every power of the kingdom of darkness and cancel every argument in heaven that has established itself against the plans of God in my life and spoil every attack of the enemy. I call forth, in the name of Jesus, all of God's plans and purposes for my life, and my family. As for me and my house, we shall serve the Lord. Satan, the blood of Jesus is against you and you have no authority over my life. NO WEAPON FORMED AGAINST ME (OR MY FAMILY) SHALL PROSPER!"**
Practical example: God healed me from the compulsion to view pornography several years ago. Since that time, the Lord has shown me how to fight the enemy in my thought life. When the temptations to lust over memories of porn images assault me, I say (audibly or in my mind), "Satan, in the name of Jesus I rebuke you and command you to leave me alone. I am saved by the blood of Jesus Christ, who died for me and defeated you." When the temptation persists, and it usually does, I keep speaking "the blood of Jesus covers me" until the temptation subsides. In the rare cases that the temptation continues after applying the blood, I find that singing praise songs helps to eliminate any remaining distracting thoughts.
Applying the blood of Christ should be done with understanding, reverence and recognition of its meaning. As with all spiritual weapons, our understanding combined with belief (faith) will unleash God's power in the situation we are facing.
Spam as usual
-
{qoou}DOS
- Spamola King
- Posts: 1986
- Joined: Sun Sep 05, 2004 2:32 am
- Location: Pennsylvania {suburbs}
Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say
{Refrain}
Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, well
It surely means that I don't know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say
{Refrain}
No!
Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
Now your life's no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say
{Refrain}
Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, well
It surely means that I don't know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say
{Refrain}
No!
Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
Now your life's no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you
Nicaragua, better than Wisconsin
-
{qoou}DOS
- Spamola King
- Posts: 1986
- Joined: Sun Sep 05, 2004 2:32 am
- Location: Pennsylvania {suburbs}
Arcade
by
David S. Goyer
Last revised November 6, 1990
INT. ARCADE WORLD -- ELECTRONIC DARKNESS
We don't know if it's night or day. It's just black.
And maybe...maybe intermittent SPARKS racing by. So quick we barely
perceive them. Like the sparks you imagine when your eyes are closed.
BREATHING,
slow and hollow, filling up the entire world. It's eerie as hell. A
feeling of utter loneliness.
And now the breathing recedes, fading into the darkness. Whatever it
was...it's gone now.
MAIN CREDITS ROLL.
We hear CELLOS. Four of them. Weaving an intricate melody.
And now the visuals. BRIGHTLY COLORED SHAPES spinning in. Equally
intricate, matching the music. They grow and flourish, like flowers
opening up in time lapse photography.
FRACTALS...
is what they're called. The visual manifestation of geometric formulas.
The Mandelbrot Set. The Julia Set. Each mathematic form made up of
progressively smaller forms and on into infinity.
Glorious and beautiful. Forms folding in upon themselves and
regenerating.
This is creation we're witnessing.
This is life in the making.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. COUNSELOR'S OFFICE -- DAY
AN EYE
For a brief moment we still hear the CELLOS. And in the eye, the last of
the fractals are spinning away, leaving us with the iris. A nice blue
one. This is ALEX MANNING'S eye.
ALEX (V.O.)
Time. That's all I ever think about
anymore. It's like there's never enough of
it, you know?
CUT TO:
INT. MANNING HOUSE, HALLWAY -- DAY
This is a flashback, in case you're wondering. We'll continue to hear
Alex's VOICE as we move through the house in slow motion. Everything is
very bright and dreamlike.
Right now we're moving with the camera, slowly moving down a long hallway.
At the end of the hallway is an open door.
We stop at the doorway. We're afraid to go in.
ALEX (V.O.)
It's strange. When the future's in front
of you, it seems to go on forever. I mean,
you never really get there. It's always
one step ahead of you. It's like there's
no present. There's no "now". As soon as
you think, "I'm here", the moment's already
gone. Either everything's in the future,
or it's in the past.
(beat)
There's no "now".
MAN (V.O.)
So where are you then?
ALEX (V.O.)
I'm in the past.
We move through the doorway.
INT. MANNING HOUSE, BEDROOM -- DAY
Everything looks normal at first. A typical bedroom with sunlight
streaming in through the windows. A bed, made-up. Flowers in vases.
Everything looks perfect.
Then we move further in, and over to the right. There's something on the
floor, curled up in the entranceway to the bathroom. Halfway in, halfway
out.
It's a woman's body. She's wearing a dress, her legs awkwardly bent. We
can't see her face from this angle. But in her limp hand is a gun. And
all around that hand, speckling the pristine white tile of the bathroom
and the carpeting beyond, is BLOOD.
A shrill BELL shatters the moment.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNSELOR'S OFFICE -- DAY
The bell continues. It's a school bell signaling the end of the period.
ON ALEX
as we see her for the first time, startled. She's seventeen and pretty,
though in a simple way. Her eyes are the most striking. Deep. Intense.
If Alex has a problem, it's the fact that she thinks too much, and it's
reflected in her eyes.
Across from her is MR. WEAVER, a high-school guidance counselor and that
was his voice we heard with Alex's. He's unexceptional, middle-aged,
incapable of really hearing what Alex has to say. This is his office
we're in. Typical "SAY NO TO DRUGS" teen propaganda decorate the room.
Fun.
As the BELL dies we hear the army of FOOTSTEPS outside, students milling
in the halls.
Alex glances at the door and starts to rise from her chair.
MR. WEAVER
We don't have to stop now...
ALEX
(cutting him off)
That's okay. I've got a test coming up
anyway. Gotta study.
MR. WEAVER
(sighs)
I have to tell you, I'm a little concerned
about you, Alex. It's been three months
now since your mother, uh...
ALEX
(offering, fixing him with
a stare)
Killed herself?
Mr. Weaver stops, more than a little uncomfortable.
MR. WEAVER
(reluctant)
Yes. Now your father...
ALEX
He's a basket case. You've talked to him.
You know that. He might as well be dead
too.
Alex glances down at the floor, anything to avoid looking at the
counselor. She heaves a backpack onto to shoulder.
ALEX
(continuing)
Look Mr. Weaver, I don't even know why I
came here. I fine. Really.
(looking up)
It's like I said. It's just part of the
past now. It doesn't matter anymore.
She turns, and before Mr. Weaver can respond, she's out the door.
INT. HIGH-SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY
Alex moves quickly through the mass of STUDENTS, wiping the remnants of
half-tears on her coat sleeve.
CUT TO:
INT. HIGH-SCHOOL CAFETERIA - DAY
Fun-time. Total chaos. If you've been to high-school you know the riff.
Bad food, teen-age melodrama, and a squadron of SUPERVISORS trying to keep
a lid on things.
ALEX
makes her way to the far corner of the cafeteria where a cluster of kids
lounge around a table. These are Alex's FRIENDS. And while none of them
are your garden variety pocket-protector-type nerds, these kids aren't
exactly part of the "in-crowd". They're a little off. Quirky. All of
them come from screwed up families, and that's what bonds them. They are:
GREG HOLLISTON -- Alex's boyfriend. Hopeful artist (not bad, either) and
kind of punk looking. Greg and the others are big fans of thrift-shop
clothing. Because they don't have the money, they improvise.
NICK DRAKE -- Greg's best friend and future computer pioneer. He's
attractive and he's got an edge. A bit of a hot-shot. Genius in the
making.
BENZ AND STILTS -- Inseparable. Benz is flunking out of school and would
like nothing better than to spend the rest of his life reading comic
books. He's tall, perpetually unkempt, awkward, and nervous. Stilts,
contrary to his nickname, is quite short and never without his skateboard.
Stilts is constantly hitting on...
LAURIE -- The sixth member of the group. A teen Theda Bara and as cynical
as you can get. She's what's affectionately known as an "art chick".
The boys in the group, particularly Nick and Stilts, are avid
skateboarders and are frequently seen with their boards. Stilts is always
leafing through an issue of THRASHER magazine.
Right now the group is in the midst of an argument. Nick has a pocket
video game in his hands which he casually plays. He can get through these
games in his sleep. It BEEPS and WHIRS.
NICK
(to Benz)
You're an idiot, you know that? What're you
going to do when you get out of here?
BENZ
I was thinking about writing for one of
those Filipino mail order brides...
Stilts and Greg burst into laughter.
STILTS
I think I saw that on the Home Shopping
Network. The Girlfriend Hour, right after
Auto Accessories.
BENZ
(giggling)
Exactly.
LAURIE
You guys are sick.
Alex flops down in a chair and everyone turns.
GREG
So how'd it go?
Alex shrugs, trying to make light of it.
ALEX
He thinks I'm "sublimating".
STILTS
What the hell does that mean?
LAURIE
It means she's screwed up.
STILTS
Fucked up. That's what they said I was.
BENZ
You are fucked up.
STILTS
Yeah, but only because I want to be.
GREG
Would you guys knock it off?
Greg turns back to Alex and looks her in the eye.
GREG
(continuing)
Listen to me, Alex. These counselor's
don't know anything. They're full of shit.
If you don't fit the pattern of the perfect
kid, they freak.
ALEX
(nodding)
I know.
GREG
So tell me you're okay, then.
ALEX
I'm okay.
GREG
(smiles)
Good. Cause I'd freak if you weren't.
Greg leans over and kisses Alex. The rest of the group launches into
exaggerated GROANS, with Benz and Stilts fluttering their eyes and making
"smooching faces" at each other. The kiss is over and everyone LAUGHS.
Things are okay now.
GREG
(to Alex)
Hey...watch this...
Greg pulls an old Polaroid camera from his backpack. He leans in close to
her and holds the camera at arm's length, aiming it back at them. FLASH!
And the moment's captured forever.
Greg pulls the Polaroid out and peels off the backing. Before the picture
even develops, he begins rubbing his fingers over it, manipulating the
emulsion.
NICK
(engrossed in his game
again)
You making another one, Greg?
GREG
Sure. Practice.
BENZ
Lemme see...
Greg pulls some papers from his backpack and slides them over to Benz.
The papers are color xeroxes of Polaroid blow-ups. Greg has messed with
them, creating swirling, psychedelic patterns with the images. Stilts and
Laurie lean in.
STILTS
Cool.
GREG
(still working)
See, when the emulsion's still warm you can
move it around...
(stops)
There.
Greg holds up the Polaroid for Alex to see.
by
David S. Goyer
Last revised November 6, 1990
INT. ARCADE WORLD -- ELECTRONIC DARKNESS
We don't know if it's night or day. It's just black.
And maybe...maybe intermittent SPARKS racing by. So quick we barely
perceive them. Like the sparks you imagine when your eyes are closed.
BREATHING,
slow and hollow, filling up the entire world. It's eerie as hell. A
feeling of utter loneliness.
And now the breathing recedes, fading into the darkness. Whatever it
was...it's gone now.
MAIN CREDITS ROLL.
We hear CELLOS. Four of them. Weaving an intricate melody.
And now the visuals. BRIGHTLY COLORED SHAPES spinning in. Equally
intricate, matching the music. They grow and flourish, like flowers
opening up in time lapse photography.
FRACTALS...
is what they're called. The visual manifestation of geometric formulas.
The Mandelbrot Set. The Julia Set. Each mathematic form made up of
progressively smaller forms and on into infinity.
Glorious and beautiful. Forms folding in upon themselves and
regenerating.
This is creation we're witnessing.
This is life in the making.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. COUNSELOR'S OFFICE -- DAY
AN EYE
For a brief moment we still hear the CELLOS. And in the eye, the last of
the fractals are spinning away, leaving us with the iris. A nice blue
one. This is ALEX MANNING'S eye.
ALEX (V.O.)
Time. That's all I ever think about
anymore. It's like there's never enough of
it, you know?
CUT TO:
INT. MANNING HOUSE, HALLWAY -- DAY
This is a flashback, in case you're wondering. We'll continue to hear
Alex's VOICE as we move through the house in slow motion. Everything is
very bright and dreamlike.
Right now we're moving with the camera, slowly moving down a long hallway.
At the end of the hallway is an open door.
We stop at the doorway. We're afraid to go in.
ALEX (V.O.)
It's strange. When the future's in front
of you, it seems to go on forever. I mean,
you never really get there. It's always
one step ahead of you. It's like there's
no present. There's no "now". As soon as
you think, "I'm here", the moment's already
gone. Either everything's in the future,
or it's in the past.
(beat)
There's no "now".
MAN (V.O.)
So where are you then?
ALEX (V.O.)
I'm in the past.
We move through the doorway.
INT. MANNING HOUSE, BEDROOM -- DAY
Everything looks normal at first. A typical bedroom with sunlight
streaming in through the windows. A bed, made-up. Flowers in vases.
Everything looks perfect.
Then we move further in, and over to the right. There's something on the
floor, curled up in the entranceway to the bathroom. Halfway in, halfway
out.
It's a woman's body. She's wearing a dress, her legs awkwardly bent. We
can't see her face from this angle. But in her limp hand is a gun. And
all around that hand, speckling the pristine white tile of the bathroom
and the carpeting beyond, is BLOOD.
A shrill BELL shatters the moment.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNSELOR'S OFFICE -- DAY
The bell continues. It's a school bell signaling the end of the period.
ON ALEX
as we see her for the first time, startled. She's seventeen and pretty,
though in a simple way. Her eyes are the most striking. Deep. Intense.
If Alex has a problem, it's the fact that she thinks too much, and it's
reflected in her eyes.
Across from her is MR. WEAVER, a high-school guidance counselor and that
was his voice we heard with Alex's. He's unexceptional, middle-aged,
incapable of really hearing what Alex has to say. This is his office
we're in. Typical "SAY NO TO DRUGS" teen propaganda decorate the room.
Fun.
As the BELL dies we hear the army of FOOTSTEPS outside, students milling
in the halls.
Alex glances at the door and starts to rise from her chair.
MR. WEAVER
We don't have to stop now...
ALEX
(cutting him off)
That's okay. I've got a test coming up
anyway. Gotta study.
MR. WEAVER
(sighs)
I have to tell you, I'm a little concerned
about you, Alex. It's been three months
now since your mother, uh...
ALEX
(offering, fixing him with
a stare)
Killed herself?
Mr. Weaver stops, more than a little uncomfortable.
MR. WEAVER
(reluctant)
Yes. Now your father...
ALEX
He's a basket case. You've talked to him.
You know that. He might as well be dead
too.
Alex glances down at the floor, anything to avoid looking at the
counselor. She heaves a backpack onto to shoulder.
ALEX
(continuing)
Look Mr. Weaver, I don't even know why I
came here. I fine. Really.
(looking up)
It's like I said. It's just part of the
past now. It doesn't matter anymore.
She turns, and before Mr. Weaver can respond, she's out the door.
INT. HIGH-SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY
Alex moves quickly through the mass of STUDENTS, wiping the remnants of
half-tears on her coat sleeve.
CUT TO:
INT. HIGH-SCHOOL CAFETERIA - DAY
Fun-time. Total chaos. If you've been to high-school you know the riff.
Bad food, teen-age melodrama, and a squadron of SUPERVISORS trying to keep
a lid on things.
ALEX
makes her way to the far corner of the cafeteria where a cluster of kids
lounge around a table. These are Alex's FRIENDS. And while none of them
are your garden variety pocket-protector-type nerds, these kids aren't
exactly part of the "in-crowd". They're a little off. Quirky. All of
them come from screwed up families, and that's what bonds them. They are:
GREG HOLLISTON -- Alex's boyfriend. Hopeful artist (not bad, either) and
kind of punk looking. Greg and the others are big fans of thrift-shop
clothing. Because they don't have the money, they improvise.
NICK DRAKE -- Greg's best friend and future computer pioneer. He's
attractive and he's got an edge. A bit of a hot-shot. Genius in the
making.
BENZ AND STILTS -- Inseparable. Benz is flunking out of school and would
like nothing better than to spend the rest of his life reading comic
books. He's tall, perpetually unkempt, awkward, and nervous. Stilts,
contrary to his nickname, is quite short and never without his skateboard.
Stilts is constantly hitting on...
LAURIE -- The sixth member of the group. A teen Theda Bara and as cynical
as you can get. She's what's affectionately known as an "art chick".
The boys in the group, particularly Nick and Stilts, are avid
skateboarders and are frequently seen with their boards. Stilts is always
leafing through an issue of THRASHER magazine.
Right now the group is in the midst of an argument. Nick has a pocket
video game in his hands which he casually plays. He can get through these
games in his sleep. It BEEPS and WHIRS.
NICK
(to Benz)
You're an idiot, you know that? What're you
going to do when you get out of here?
BENZ
I was thinking about writing for one of
those Filipino mail order brides...
Stilts and Greg burst into laughter.
STILTS
I think I saw that on the Home Shopping
Network. The Girlfriend Hour, right after
Auto Accessories.
BENZ
(giggling)
Exactly.
LAURIE
You guys are sick.
Alex flops down in a chair and everyone turns.
GREG
So how'd it go?
Alex shrugs, trying to make light of it.
ALEX
He thinks I'm "sublimating".
STILTS
What the hell does that mean?
LAURIE
It means she's screwed up.
STILTS
Fucked up. That's what they said I was.
BENZ
You are fucked up.
STILTS
Yeah, but only because I want to be.
GREG
Would you guys knock it off?
Greg turns back to Alex and looks her in the eye.
GREG
(continuing)
Listen to me, Alex. These counselor's
don't know anything. They're full of shit.
If you don't fit the pattern of the perfect
kid, they freak.
ALEX
(nodding)
I know.
GREG
So tell me you're okay, then.
ALEX
I'm okay.
GREG
(smiles)
Good. Cause I'd freak if you weren't.
Greg leans over and kisses Alex. The rest of the group launches into
exaggerated GROANS, with Benz and Stilts fluttering their eyes and making
"smooching faces" at each other. The kiss is over and everyone LAUGHS.
Things are okay now.
GREG
(to Alex)
Hey...watch this...
Greg pulls an old Polaroid camera from his backpack. He leans in close to
her and holds the camera at arm's length, aiming it back at them. FLASH!
And the moment's captured forever.
Greg pulls the Polaroid out and peels off the backing. Before the picture
even develops, he begins rubbing his fingers over it, manipulating the
emulsion.
NICK
(engrossed in his game
again)
You making another one, Greg?
GREG
Sure. Practice.
BENZ
Lemme see...
Greg pulls some papers from his backpack and slides them over to Benz.
The papers are color xeroxes of Polaroid blow-ups. Greg has messed with
them, creating swirling, psychedelic patterns with the images. Stilts and
Laurie lean in.
STILTS
Cool.
GREG
(still working)
See, when the emulsion's still warm you can
move it around...
(stops)
There.
Greg holds up the Polaroid for Alex to see.
Nicaragua, better than Wisconsin
-
Captain_Obvious
- Site Admin
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special_Kare
- Server Admin
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fookin el, nah i just scrolled down LMF<O
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Captain_Obvious
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Peter: What the hell is he talking about?
LD8242: Oh, it's Cricket. Marvelous game, really. You see, the bowler hurls the ball toward the batter who tries to play away a fine leg. He endeavors to score by dashing between the creases, provided the wicket keeper hasn't whipped his bails off, of course.
Peter: Anybody get that?
Cleveland: The only British idiom I know is that "fag" means "cigarette."
Peter: Well, someone tell this "cigarette" to shut up.
LD8242: Oh, it's Cricket. Marvelous game, really. You see, the bowler hurls the ball toward the batter who tries to play away a fine leg. He endeavors to score by dashing between the creases, provided the wicket keeper hasn't whipped his bails off, of course.
Peter: Anybody get that?
Cleveland: The only British idiom I know is that "fag" means "cigarette."
Peter: Well, someone tell this "cigarette" to shut up.
You and the Cap'n make it happen!
-
«Ìrðqµðï§_þlï§kïñ»
- 1337 H4X0R
- Posts: 994
- Joined: Sat Apr 02, 2005 7:40 pm
- Location: Coventry, England
- Contact:
the cricket bat's good for one thing, smacking someone with it
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«Ìrðqµðï§_þlï§kïñ»
- 1337 H4X0R
- Posts: 994
- Joined: Sat Apr 02, 2005 7:40 pm
- Location: Coventry, England
- Contact:
nahh lolly sticks do the job here
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special_Kare
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