✞4 Days since my Last Confession✞
[✝]Psalm 127:1
Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labour in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.[✝]
[☨]Even the cloud's shielding the setting sun could not staunch the brightness shining inside the church this evening. It was a rather remarkable task the Archbishop looked impeccably smug about it as he stood at the top of a ladder to oversee his work. The pews were all aligned and free of dust, the multicolored windows were shimmering, the alter in the back had been pushed upright and books and scrolls had been neatly stacked in order of legibleness. A fine job indeed![☨]
Well, faith without works certainly is dead. If I'm to be stuck in this den on lions, by God, His house I refuge in shall be cleansed!
[☨]Mopping his brow with the rag he was using to swathe the high arch of the stained glass window, he carefully turned towards it to grab his commlink off a small ledge of stone, only to stagger and clutch to the ladder when it wobbled beneath him.[☨]
Blasted thing, what do I even need you for? I have it all underfoot and under control!
[☨]His Iscariots but Anderson weren't there of course, yet having This house under his oversee gave him the sense of shepherding he so boldly desired. Stretching his gloved fingertips towards the red-blinking communicator he touched it and with a Z-Z-ZZAP the man was turned ridged, jolting the ladder from the wall.[☨]
A-aahh!? ANDER---!!
[☨]In a flail of arms to keep a balance he had long lost, Maxwell dropped into the pews with a burst and flutter of dust and scriptures scattering into the air.[☨]
...nnnn....guh...
..... St... stab the in..solence.. out of that.. infer..nal.. contrap..tion..!
Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labour in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.[✝]
[☨]Even the cloud's shielding the setting sun could not staunch the brightness shining inside the church this evening. It was a rather remarkable task the Archbishop looked impeccably smug about it as he stood at the top of a ladder to oversee his work. The pews were all aligned and free of dust, the multicolored windows were shimmering, the alter in the back had been pushed upright and books and scrolls had been neatly stacked in order of legibleness. A fine job indeed![☨]
Well, faith without works certainly is dead. If I'm to be stuck in this den on lions, by God, His house I refuge in shall be cleansed!
[☨]Mopping his brow with the rag he was using to swathe the high arch of the stained glass window, he carefully turned towards it to grab his commlink off a small ledge of stone, only to stagger and clutch to the ladder when it wobbled beneath him.[☨]
Blasted thing, what do I even need you for? I have it all underfoot and under control!
[☨]His Iscariots but Anderson weren't there of course, yet having This house under his oversee gave him the sense of shepherding he so boldly desired. Stretching his gloved fingertips towards the red-blinking communicator he touched it and with a Z-Z-ZZAP the man was turned ridged, jolting the ladder from the wall.[☨]
A-aahh!? ANDER---!!
[☨]In a flail of arms to keep a balance he had long lost, Maxwell dropped into the pews with a burst and flutter of dust and scriptures scattering into the air.[☨]
...nnnn....guh...
..... St... stab the in..solence.. out of that.. infer..nal.. contrap..tion..!