Christian, let us say with the Psalmist, “The Lord is my portion” (Ps. 119.57). For He is our inheritance (Ps. 16:5). What more do we need?

The world seeks after material riches, after physical lusts, after power. Yet those in the world are never satisfied. This is why we are instructed to not love the world nor the things in it (1 Jn. 2:15). For the things that are in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, the boastful pride of life, these things are not of God - they are of the world, and such are the things chased by those of the world (1 Jn. 2:16).

But we are not of the world; Jesus chose us out of the world (Jn. 15:19). Therefore, we are not to be like the world, but changed by our new heart, our new spirit, our new mind (Rom. 12:2). And with this change, knowing that the Lord is our portion, comes something Paul spoke of in Philippians 4: contentment.

How rich are we to have the Lord? Shall we ignore so great a treasure only to long for that which will perish? May it never be! Let us, like Paul, learn the secret of being content regardless of our circumstances (Phil. 4:12), and let our souls say, “The Lord is my portion” (Lam. 3:24).

——————
Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening Devotion

Morning, November 16

"The Lord is my portion, saith my soul." Lamentations 3:24

It is not "The Lord is partly my portion," nor "The Lord is in my portion"; but He Himself makes up the sum total of my soul's inheritance. Within the circumference of that circle lies all that we possess or desire. The Lord is my portion. Not His grace merely, nor His love, nor His covenant, but Jehovah Himself. He has chosen us for His portion, and we have chosen Him for ours. It is true that the Lord must first choose our inheritance for us, or else we shall never choose it for ourselves; but if we are really called according to the purpose of electing love, we can sing:

Lov'd of my God for Him again
With love intense I burn;
Chosen of Him ere time began,
I choose Him in return.

The Lord is our all-sufficient portion. God fills Himself; and if God is all-sufficient in Himself, He must be all-sufficient for us. It is not easy to satisfy man's desires. When he dreams that he is satisfied, anon he wakes to the perception that there is somewhat yet beyond, and straightway the horse-leech in his heart cries, "Give, give." But all that we can wish for is to be found in our divine portion, so that we ask, "Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee." Well may we "delight ourselves in the Lord" who makes us to drink of the river of His pleasures. Our faith stretches her wings and mounts like an eagle into the heaven of divine love as to her proper dwelling-place. "The lines have fallen to us in pleasant places; yea, we have a goodly heritage." Let us rejoice in the Lord always; let us show to the world that we are a happy and a blessed people, and thus induce them to exclaim, "We will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you."

Keeper of the Wolf Child

She holds the young one close.
not as a pet,
but as a promise—
a bond older than language,
stronger than fear.

In her arms, the wild learns trust.
The tame learns courage,
and the heartbeat of two nations—
human and wolf —
finds the same ancient drum.

Butterflies circle like blessings,
the sun crowns her in quiet gold.
For every gentle guardian is also
a warrior in silence.

The Circle of Light

Three women stand where twilight breathes,
Their robes of dusk and dawn entwined.
Between their hands, a gentle fire —
a spark of life, serene, divine.

The glow they hold is more than flame,
It is the pulse of all that’s known:
the laughter born, the tears reclaimed,
the seed of earth, the spirit’s home.

Their halos hum like suns reborn.
Their shadows weave through violet skies.
They are the dream before the day,
the mothers of all lullabies.

No crown of gold, no earthly claim —
just light and love in sacred tone.
For in their palms the universe turns,
and every soul remembers home.

Artist & narrator: Elvis Becker

I remember this when it was called twitter....do you....

LIZ CROKIN

@LizCrokin

In 2018, I was unverified from Twitter for making factual observations on Chrissy Teigen’s public social media posts that inlcuded DOJ & FBI-confirmed pedophile code such a “pizza” and for accurately calling her out for running in circles with rapists, pedophiles and sex traffickers.

https://x.com/LizCrokin/status/1851715551867080978

The Circle of the Great Bear

In the heart of morning fire,
Mother Bear rises
her chest a sun,
her breath a song that warms the roots of life.

Around her dance the little ones,
painted in colors of becoming:
the blue of wonder,
the red of courage,
the gold of knowing where home begins.

She teaches them the rhythm of the earth,
How to listen to stones,
How to trust the quiet between heartbeats.

When they stray too far,
her light reaches them still
a gentle pull,
a promise that love
It is the first and final circle.

And when night folds over the world,
The stars trace her shape in the sky
a mother forever watching,
her cubs forever returning
to the fire she left within them.

Author and Artist Jan Sky

POKROVSK CAULDRON: #Russian Forces Tighten the Noose Around Donetsk Stronghold — 10,000 #Ukrainian Troops Face Complete Encirclement (VIDEOS) https://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2025/10/pokrovsk-cauldron-russian-forces-tighten-noose-around-donetsk/

Brethren, Jesus told us that He would be with us always, even to the end of the age (Mt. 28:20). As such, the truth also is with us, and shall be forever (2 Jn. 2).

Remember, the truth isn’t simply facts we know or something we tell, as opposed to a lie - no, the Truth is a Person, and that Person is our Lord Jesus Christ. As He explained to His disciples, He is the way, and the truth, and the life (Jn. 14:6). And His Spirit dwells in us (1 Cor. 3:16), to draw us close, and to lead us into all truth (Jn. 16:3).

Therefore, we are to walk in truth, and in love, for Jesus’ sake. If anyone claims to know Jesus but does not keep Jesus commandments, such as to love one another, then he is a liar and the truth is not in him (1 Jn. 2:4). If we say we have no sin, the truth is not in us (1 Jn. 1:8).

Let us then walk in truth, and love in truth, as He commanded that those who love God should love one another (1 Jn. 4:21). This is how the world will know we are His disciples (Jn. 13:35).

——————
Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening Devotions

Morning, October 25

"For the truth's sake, which dwelleth in us, and shall be with us for ever." 2 John 2

Once let the truth of God obtain an entrance into the human heart and subdue the whole man unto itself, no power human or infernal can dislodge it. We entertain it not as a guest but as the master of the house- this is a Christian necessity, he is no Christian who doth not thus believe. Those who feel the vital power of the gospel, and know the might of the Holy Ghost as He opens, applies, and seals the Lord's Word, would sooner be torn to pieces than be rent away from the gospel of their salvation. What a thousand mercies are wrapt up in the assurance that the truth will be with us for ever; will be our living support, our dying comfort, our rising song, our eternal glory; this is Christian privilege, without it our faith were little worth. Some truths we outgrow and leave behind, for they are but rudiments and lessons for beginners, but we cannot thus deal with Divine truth, for though it is sweet food for babes, it is in the highest sense strong meat for men. The truth that we are sinners is painfully with us to humble and make us watchful; the more blessed truth that whosoever believeth on the Lord Jesus shall be saved, abides with us as our hope and joy. Experience, so far from loosening our hold of the doctrines of grace, has knit us to them more and more firmly; our grounds and motives for believing are now more strong, more numerous than ever, and we have reason to expect that it will be so till in death we clasp the Saviour in our arms.

Wherever this abiding love of truth can be discovered, we are bound to exercise our love. No narrow circle can contain our gracious sympathies, wide as the election of grace must be our communion of heart. Much of error may be mingled with truth received, let us war with the error but still love the brother for the measure of truth which we see in Him; above all let us love and spread the truth ourselves.

Sisters of the Snow Moon

(A Song for the Ones Who Walk Together)

We walk beneath the silver moon,
Three hearts, one silent tune.
The snow may fall, the wind may cry,
But never alone do we walk the sky.

Our braids are woven with whispered prayers,
Feathers gifted from midnight airs.
We carry the stories of women before,
Their footsteps echo on frozen shore.

When one of us falters, the others stand tall—
A circle unbroken, we rise through it all.
When sorrow weighs heavy, and words fall apart,
A sister will hold you, heart to heart.

Not born of blood, but born of soul,
We gather each other and make each one whole.
In laughter, in tears, in the stillness between,
We are the light that the cold cannot screen.

And when the long night asks who we are—
We answer in song, like the northern star.
“We are the ones who do not flee,
For love walks stronger when it walks in three

Art by Serin Alar

Under the Mother Moon

The night hums with the song of beginnings,
soft as the heartbeat beneath the stars.
Life returns to life,
a circle unbroken, eternal in its grace.

The Great Spirit breathes through her silence,
and the wind carries her prayer of love.
In her arms rests tomorrow—
fragile, sacred, whole.

From her strength, the world remembers,
that gentleness is the oldest power,
and love—
The first language ever spoken.

Isaiah tells us that “we all like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way” (Isa. 53:6). Isn’t that just like sheep? Left to themselves, they wander off, aimlessly, knowing not where they’re going nor how to return. They do not search for their shepherd, but a shepherd who cares for his flock will search for his sheep.

Such an apt description. We were lost, but there is a Good Shepherd to whom we belong. He knows His sheep, they hear His voice and follow (Jn. 10:27). How wonderful that our Lord would care so much for us!!!

Because, just like lost sheep, we did not search for Him; He came looking for us. And like the Good Shepherd He is, He gathered us to Himself, and we are comforted by His rod and His staff (Psalm. 23:4).

Oh believer, do not wander off. He laid down His life for you (Jn. 10:15-18). He gives us eternal life (Jn. 10:27). No one can snatch us from His hand (Jn. 10:28). Follow His voice and you will find pasture (Jn. 10:9).

——————
Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening Devotions

Evening, October 17

"He shall gather the lambs with His arm." Isaiah 40:11

Our good Shepherd has in His flock a variety of experiences, some are strong in the Lord, and others are weak in faith, but He is impartial in His care for all His sheep, and the weakest lamb is as dear to Him as the most advanced of the flock. Lambs are wont to lag behind, prone to wander, and apt to grow weary, but from all the danger of these infirmities the Shepherd protects them with His arm of power. He finds new-born souls, like young lambs, ready to perish- He nourishes them till life becomes vigorous; He finds weak minds ready to faint and die- He consoles them and renews their strength. All the little ones He gathers, for it is not the will of our heavenly Father that one of them should perish. What a quick eye He must have to see them all! What a tender heart to care for them all! What a far- reaching and potent arm, to gather them all! In His lifetime on earth He was a great gatherer of the weaker sort, and now that He dwells in heaven, His loving heart yearns towards the meek and contrite, the timid and feeble, the fearful and fainting here below. How gently did He gather me to Himself, to His truth, to His blood, to His love, to His church! With what effectual grace did He compel me to come to Himself! Since my first conversion, how frequently has He restored me from my wanderings, and once again folded me within the circle of His everlasting arm! The best of all is, that He does it all Himself personally, not delegating the task of love, but condescending Himself to rescue and preserve His most unworthy servant. How shall I love Him enough or serve Him worthily? I would fain make His name great unto the ends of the earth, but what can my feebleness do for Him? Great Shepherd, add to Thy mercies this one other, a heart to love Thee more truly as I ought.

The Drum Remembers

The elders say,
a drum never forgets
the hands that first woke it.

She holds it close,
its skin warm against her palm—
and in the hush between her heartbeats,
She hears the old fire crackle.

Smoke rises in her memory,
voices circle the flames,
and her mother’s song
travels through time
like a hawk’s cry returning home.

Once, the night danced with embers,
and every beat was a prayer—
to the earth,
to the stars,
to the spirit that lives
in all that breathes.

Now, she stands alone,
wrapped in the quiet of remembrance,
and when her hand trembles against the drum,
The ancestors answer:

“We are here, child—
in the rhythm,
in the flame,
in you.”

Art by Serin Alar

“Prepare For War”: B-52s Circle Near #Venezuela, #DonaldTrump Threatens #Hamas, And #Ukraine Is Very Close To Getting Tomahawk Cruise Missiles https://theeconomiccollapseblog.com/prepare-for-war-b-52s-circle-near-venezuela-trump-threatens-hamas-and-ukraine-is-very-close-to-getting-tomahawk-cruise-missiles/

EXCLUSIVE: The Far Left’s Sinister Plot to Bring America to Its Knees | Daily Pulse
They've even circled a date for America’s collapse.
https://www.vigilantfox.com/p/exclusive-the-far-lefts-sinister?publication_id=975571&post_id=175217915&isFreemail=true&r=1maoyr&triedRedirect=true&utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email

Where the Water Remembers

She listens to the songs beneath the surface,
where time moves slower than breath.
Each ripple carries a story home,
each petal drifts with the weight of prayer.

The moon speaks in circles,
teaching her that endings are beginnings in disguise.
She does not ask for answers—
She becomes the stillness that holds them.

In the quiet between heartbeats,
the river knows her name,
and the night opens—
like memory returning to its source.

Feathers of the Moon

The night teaches silence,
and in that silence,
a thousand voices rise.

Feathers drift like prayers,
carrying the weight of remembrance,
yet falling as lightly as hope.

The moon gathers them all,
each a heartbeat of the ancestors,
each a promise that nothing is lost
when carried by spirit.

Between breath and stillness,
we learn the oldest truth:
that every step of the people
is lifted by wings unseen,
guiding us back to the circle of light.

Whispers of the Ancestors

Beneath the silver moon’s embrace,
Two souls walk where rivers trace.
Wrapped in colors, stories told,
Patterns woven from days of old.

Feathers sway with sacred song,
Echoes of ancestors guide them along.
The water shines with spirit’s glow,
Carrying wisdom the elders know.

In silence deep, the night is kind,
The past and present intertwine.
Each step they take, the circle near,
The voice of the ancestors whispers clear.

Artist and the storyteller: Elvis Becker

Tyler Robinson is a Symptom of Dem-Marxist Civil Strife:
Perhaps the Dem-Marxist End-Game is Civil War
https://oneway2day.com/2025/09/14/tyler-robinson-is-a-symptom-of-dem-marxist-civil-strife/

SUMMARY: Tyler Robinson is the accused assassin of Charlie Kirk. In this post I choose to ignore the psyop Conspiracy Theory I’ve been running into… What is going to make this a lengthy post is the information and opinions based on that information that point to Leftist INSPIRED violence and murder circled around Antifa and Transgender ideology that Tyler Robinson seemed to have been involved in. …READ & LEARN Dem-Marxist AGENDA For AMERICA!
#LeftistCivilStrife #DemMarxistIncitement #TranstifaEvil

Song of a Hummingbird

I am but a flicker of wings,
a heartbeat carried on the wind.
Today, I fly not alone—
My brothers and sisters circle with me.

We find the blossom,
a crown of colors at the world’s center,
It's nectar sweet as morning rain,
Its fragrance is a hymn to the sky.

We do not quarrel,
Beauty is endless when shared.
One by one, we drink its light,
and in return, we give it flight—
a halo of shimmering feathers.

Listen: in our dance around the flower,
You may hear the secret of joy—
that even the smallest souls
can guard the universe with love.

Serin Alar

Silent Warrior

He rides the horse through endless skies,
his shadow merging where the eagle flies.
A spear that gleams like a vow untold,
to guard the land, the hearts it holds.

No one hears the tears he hides,
only fire burning in his eyes.
Upon his shoulders, ancestors rest,
their whispered oaths beat in his chest.

Though mist and time may veil the ground,
He keeps the sacred circle bound.
For this land is blood and flame,
a spirit that shall not wane.

O silent warrior, lone and true,
the winds still carry your promise through.
To guard this earth, both root and wing,
forever bound to the sacred ring.

Serin Alar

Just like laundry....gotta have it!

Circle Of Life
https://terrylclark.substack.com/p/circle-of-life?publication_id=934525&post_id=167933188&isFreemail=false&r=1maoyr&triedRedirect=true

Spurgeon's Morning and Evening Devotions

Evening, August 6

"Let the whole earth be filled with His glory; Amen, and Amen." Psalm 72:19

This is a large petition. To intercede for a whole city needs a stretch of faith, and there are times when a prayer for one man is enough to stagger us. But how far-reaching was the psalmist's dying intercession! How comprehensive! How sublime! "Let the whole earth be filled with His glory." It doth not exempt a single country however crushed by the foot of superstition; it doth not exclude a single nation however barbarous. For the cannibal as well as for the civilized, for all climes and races this prayer is uttered: the whole circle of the earth it encompasses, and omits no son of Adam. We must be up and doing for our Master, or we cannot honestly offer such a prayer. The petition is not asked with a sincere heart unless we endeavour, as God shall help us, to extend the kingdom of our Master. Are there not some who neglect both to plead and to labour? Reader, is it your prayer? Turn your eyes to Calvary. Behold the Lord of Life nailed to a cross, with the thorn-crown about His brow, with bleeding head, and hands, and feet. What! can you look upon this miracle of miracles, the death of the Son of God, without feeling within your bosom a marvellous adoration that language never can express? And when you feel the blood applied to your conscience, and know that He has blotted out your sins, you are not a man unless you start from your knees and cry, "Let the whole earth be filled with His glory; Amen, and Amen." Can you bow before the Crucified in loving homage, and not wish to see your Monarch master of the world? Out on you if you can pretend to love your Prince, and desire not to see Him the universal ruler. Your piety is worthless unless it leads you to wish that the same mercy which has been extended to you may bless the whole world. Lord, it is harvest-time, put in Thy sickle and reap.

Whispers of the Wolf Spirit

As the sun sank into the cradle of the mountains, fire-kissing the lake with its final breath, a woman stood in stillness by the shore. Her name was Nayeli—“I love you” in the old tongue—and she was known as the Keeper of Echoes.

She wore robes etched with birds of the sky and dreams of the forest. Her heartbeat moved in rhythm with the earth, and her breath rose and fell with the wind. At her side stood the wolf—silent, fierce, eternal. His name was Shunkaha, the Spirit Who Walks Between.

Nayeli was born under a moon that wept rain and stars, a sign that she would speak not only with people but with the wild. From a young age, animals came to her like old friends returning home. The hawk circled above her. The deer bowed before her. And the wolf... the wolf never left her side.

It was said her voice could calm storms, and that when she closed her eyes at dusk, she listened to the voices of her ancestors through the howls of the pack. She did not command the wolf. She listened. She did not rule the wild. She walked with it.

One day, a drought came—drying rivers, silencing birdsong, cracking the land’s memory. While many prayed, Nayeli acted. With Shunkaha at her side, she followed the old canoe trails into forgotten forest paths. There, she sang the sacred songs—songs her grandmother once whispered over firelight.

And the land listened.

The rains returned. The lakes filled. The trees bowed low with new leaves. And on nights like this, when the sun melts into water and wolves stand guard at the edge of dreams, the elders smile and say:

“Nayeli walks with the wolf still. And in her silence, the world remembers how to breathe.”

#nativeamericanwisdom