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Mystic Dragon
The Mystic Trilogy (Volume 2)
Author: Jason Denzel
THE FORTRESS OF SEA AND SKY
On the island of Moth, beneath a sweltering summer sun, Pomella AnDone lifted her hands above her head.
"I surrender," she said.
The two bandits pointing crossbows at her looked at each other in confusion. Pomella silently thanked the Saints that they hadn't loosed quarrels at her. She had intentionally made plenty of racket approaching them but still managed to surprise them. Not the best-trained bunch of bandits she'd run into, then. Not that the idea of handing herself over to these twerpers showcased her stunning intellect, either. Yet here she was.
As if to punctuate how blathering stupid this idea was, Pomella's horse shook his head and stomped a hoof.
"Easy, Quercus," Pomella soothed.
"Quiet!" one of the bandits yelled. He was dressed in a heavily padded cloth shirt. Greasy blond hair spilled out of his cap and plastered against the side of his head.
The other bandit, a man with an enormous gut and gray beard, shook his crossbow for emphasis. "Keep yer hands up!"
Pomella quirked an eyebrow at him. "They're already up," she said. By the Saints, with this heat they must be melting in all those layers. "Don't you want to come seize my horse and tie my hands?"
The bandits looked at each other again, uncertain of how to handle a volunteer prisoner. They were saved from having to use their brains, however, when all the commotion drew their captain, a sharp-nosed woman resembling a vulture. Unlike her underlings, she wore well-stitched leather armor that fit her long figure. She looked even more miserable in the heat than the crossbowmen.
"Who'n the dyin' hells are you?" Vulture-woman asked. Her accent was Rardarian, not Mothic.
Pomella kept her hands up but lowered her voice and eyes. "Forgive me, Mistress. I have no name."
The bandit captain eyed Pomella's ragged gray work dress and pulled-back hair. "You don't look Unclaimed. Why isn't your head shaved?"
"A thousand apologies, Mistress," in her meekest voice. The dress she wore was an old dress she'd made years ago, shortly before she'd left Oakspring to accept the invitation to the apprentice Trials. It had fit nicely back then, if a little tight in places, but now it barely fit the curves of her older body. "The watcherman banished me yesterday. I … I just c-couldn't do it." She scrunched her face up and hoped the performance would be convincing enough.
"You're Unclaimed but have a horse?" the captain said.
"He's my fathir's," Pomella said. "He said I should trade him for food."
The captain looked at her skeptically and Pomella could see her thinking it through. "Tie her hands, Stavin. Get the horse, Kel."
The greasy-haired bandit leaped to bind Pomella's hands while the other, bearded one kept his crossbow trained on her heart. "You sure 'bout that, Jeca?" said the bearded one.
"I gave you a jagged order, Kel," the captain said.
Kel reluctantly lowered his bow and spit into a nearby bush.
Pomella held her wrists out for Stavin, and waited as he struggled to tie them properly. Pomella bit her lip, forcing herself to not offer advice. Likely the bandit was trying not to touch her. She was Unclaimed, after all.
They led her east along a thin trail that hugged the southern edge of the Ironlow Mountains. With the sun blazing, Pomella wished for the shade of her traveling cloak. She considered asking for water but thought better of it.
After nearly an hour on the trail, the captain directed them north, in the opposite direction from the main road. She brought them to a camp surrounding a nearby spring. Pomella's eyes widened. The camp was far larger than the rumors had said. At least twenty bandits milled around, grooming their horses, moving prisoners, or walking on patrols. Three large tents stood near the spring.
But what really surprised Pomella was the number of prisoners she saw. More than a hundred disheveled men and women shuffled around in large groups, letting themselves be herded like cattle.
The Unclaimed.
The lowest of the low in every society, the men and women being held by these bandits—these slavers—had each received a punishment that ostracized them from society forever. By law and tradition, the Unclaimed could own nothing beyond what they could carry. Nobody could touch them, speak to them, or give them shelter. It was a disgusting part of their culture. Nobody was born to this lowest caste.
Rumors had reached Kelt Apar that there was a large enclave of Unclaimed in the area and that it had been raided recently by bandits. In theory, each Unclaimed person had committed a horrible deed to earn this irrevocable title. But the reality wasn't that simple. The nobility generally bristled at the slightest perceived offense from those they saw as beneath them, and handed out horrible punishments for "crimes" as simple as leaving the barony, or owning a more beautiful horse than the baron, or having a more beautiful wife. The lives of the Unclaimed were bad enough, but in the past year somebody had begun rounding them up to sell as slaves to the Continent.
The captain led Pomella and the other bandit Stavin toward one of the tents. At the entrance, a short bald man wearing a leather vest over a loose shirt snapped directions to another bandit. "Brigid's tits, man, I don't care what kind of mudshite hovel you find them in, get those filthy culks cleaned! I won't have them dyin' on the ship 'cause they're covered in their own shite! You don't have to touch 'em, but get 'em to scrub themselves and each other."
The man he'd been berating knuckled a pathetic salute and practically ran away. The bald man turned and saw Pomella and her captors. "Who ya got here, Jeca?"
"Fresh meat, Paks," said the bandit captain, not bothering to dismount. "Turned herself in."
Paks eyed Pomella. "Ain't even shaved yet? Have ya touched her?"
The captain narrowed her eyes. "Course not. I ain't no animal."
"You don't look like you're from Moth," Paks said to Pomella.
"Where I come from doesn't matter," Pomella said.
Pomella knew it was her dark skin that made him say that. Her parents were native to Moth, but her grandmhathir on her fathir's side, whom she strongly resembled, had come from the distant nation of Keffra.
Paks sneered. "Haven't learned how to speak to your betters yet, eh?" He nodded to Stavin. Pain exploded across Pomella's jaw as the bandit slapped a pole across her cheek. Pomella stumbled but managed to stay on her feet. Blood dripped from her lip, but she quickly caught it with her bound hands. She'd hoped to avoid getting hurt like this, but sometimes you had to invest in a little pain. Pomella rose carefully to ensure none of her blood landed on the ground. She didn't want to draw Oxillian's attention.
"Careful," Jeca said, still sitting atop her horse. "We'll get less if her pretty little face is mangled. The Shadefox won't be happy."
"She'll heal up on the voyage," Paks said. "Besides, her hands still work. The Shadefox won't have to know."
"You won't be giving me to the Shadefox," Pomella said, dabbing her face again. "Nor will you be selling any of these other people."
Paks stepped toward her. "I don't think Stavin hit you hard enough," he said. "Looks like you're too much of a hetch to even be Unclaimed."
Pomella narrowed her eyes. She hated that vulgar term for a filthy, lowborn woman.
"Get rid of her," Paks said, and turned away.
Pomella closed her eyes and inhaled. All around her, the Myst, the invisible energy of the universe that lay everywhere, permeating everything, swirled like a cloud caught in a wind. According to her teacher, Grandmaster Lal Faywong, the Myst was the only thing that truly existed and it was alive and supremely aware. The whole island, its people, Pomella, these bandits, and all of their feelings and thoughts were simply limited expressions of the Myst.
That was the theory, at least. At the moment, what concerned Pomella was completing her task.
Silver streaks of light circled her like a Springrise ribbon. A tide of energy arose within her. She opened her eyes just as Stavin yanked on the rope binding her wrist. She yanked back at the same time, and used the Myst to hurl the bandit over her head and across the ground.
"Shite!" Paks screamed.
Pomella lifted her bound wrists above her head, then willed the Myst to wind itself around the rope. As the tiny threads of Myst settled into it, she ignited them with a mental command, and they vaporized into dust.
Time to bring in her helpers.
Pomella stilled her mind and silently summoned her hummingbirds, Hector and Ena. Quick as luck'ns they appeared, zooming through the air, trailing silvery smoke behind. They crossed above her head and dropped a polished oak staff into her hand. As her grip tightened around it, the Myst surrounding her focused and surged.
"She's not Unclaimed, you culks!" Paks roared. "She's a—"
Pomella silenced him with a sweep of her staff, wrapping him in a binding of Myst and stuffing his mouth to shut him up. She spun and threw a barrier up just as a crossbow bolt sounded behind her. It had come from Kel, the fat bandit who'd first found her. Pomella tied his feet together with the Myst and threw him sideways into Stavin.
She didn't really consider herself a warrior, but after shutting down a double handful of slaver operations she'd picked up a trick or two.
A wave of panic rippled across the camp as bandits abandoned their posts and ran. One by one Pomella wrapped them up and dragged them together into a pile of grunting and struggling bodies.
"There now," she said. "Let's talk business. Who's in charge? Is it you, Paks?"
Paks' jaw worked in a vain attempt to curse past the silvery gag. Pomella twitched a finger and it dissolved, releasing his voice.
"When and where were you going to meet the Shadefox?" she demanded.
"Choke on gunkroot," Paks said.
Pomella sighed. She hadn't expected to get a lot of information from the bandits by asking nicely. Very likely they knew little about the Shadefox. Few people did. It seemed as though he operated within carefully contained cells and used proxy representatives in order to limit exposure.
All around the camp, handfuls of Unclaimed had gathered to watch. No matter how many times she saw them, her heart ached at seeing their filthy state. Most wore rags that barely passed as clothes while some were outright naked. None of those noticed or cared about their nakedness, though. When you were Unclaimed, even your bodies were worthless.
Pomella straightened her back. Hector alighted onto the top of her staff while Ena landed on her shoulder.
"All of you are free to go. These men and women won't hurt you," she promised. "My name is—"
"The Hummingbird!" an Unclaimed woman said. She was around Pomella's age, in her early twenties. A mote of light sparked in her otherwise-dull eyes.
"That's what they call me, I guess," Pomella said. "I am going to Port Morrush tonight. There will be food for you there."
Paks chuckled behind Pomella. "What're ya gunna do, Hummingbird?" Pomella peered over her shoulder at the man. "Yah can't feed 'em all. They're Unclaimed. You're as far above 'em as you can be. Their lot won't change. Besides, look at 'em. They don't wanna change! You can lord over them all you—"
Pomella made a cutting motion with her free hand, stuffing Paks' mouth again with the Myst.
A thundering of hooves sounded on the far side of the camp. A full complement of the baron's Shieldguard stormed toward them. The burning afternoon sun glinted off their plate armor and lance tips upon which the ManHinley banner flew. They didn't bother to slow down for the Unclaimed, who had to scramble to make way.
The riders circled Pomella and the bandits and brought their horses to an easy rest. One of the soldiers, the captain according to his additional knotted shoulder rope, removed his helmet, revealing a dashing face with a square jaw and well-groomed red beard.
"I hadn't expected to find one of your kind in charge here," he said, inclining his head only the barest amount. He held a sword in his gauntleted hand.
"You arrived just in time, Captain," Pomella said. "But you won't need those weapons."
The captain hesitated only a heartbeat after her command. "As you command, Mistress." He sheathed his sword, but Pomella noted that none of his soldiers did. "My name is Captain Lucal Daycon. I'm sure you understand that I have orders to fulfill. I've been commanded to arrest every one of these people and submit them to the baron's justice."
"You may arrest the slavers," Pomella said, "but the Unclaimed are free to go at my command."
"The baron and baroness do not take kindly to Unclaimed loitering on their lands," Lucal said.
"And if none of the barons welcome them, then where do they go? It's a problem, isn't it, Captain? But don't worry. I'll be speaking to the baron and baroness this evening anyway. You may proceed with taking these"—she gestured to the bandits behind her—"to Port Morrush. We'll see what justice the baron and baroness have in mind."
"As you say, Mistress," Lucal said. Pomella knew he wouldn't disobey a direct order from her. The deep, centuries-old rules of society forbade it. But once she was out of sight, she worried Lucal would take justice into his own hands.
"You will escort me and these criminals to the Fortress of Sea and Sky," Pomella said. "Learn what you can from their leaders, but do not harm them or you will answer directly to me. I expect a report this evening. I'm especially interested in whatever you can learn about the man known as the Shadefox."
"You are quite the vigilante, Mistress…?"
"Pomella. My name is Pomella AnDone. And I am not a vigilante. I am a Mystic."
Well past highsun, as the caravan of soldiers and arrested slavers approached the mighty Fortress of Sea and Sky, a familiar tingling sensation tickled Pomella's senses. She peered into the startlingly blue sky and caught sight of a silver bird.
It was a fay eagle, soaring like a festival kite. Wispy trails of mist drifted off the bird's wings, as if they painted clouds with their passage. It lingered for a full minute, drifting in the air, which struck Pomella as unusually long for a fay casually drifting into the human realm. Finally, like passing thoughts, it vanished, returning to the invisible world it had come from.
Pomella waited until the last of the eagle's misty presence faded before turning to Lucal. "Did you see that eagle, Captain?"
From atop his brown gelding, the young soldier shaded his eyes and looked up. "No, Mistress. Most of them nest along the eastern edge of the Ironlows. Few come this far south."
"Yah, I suppose so," she muttered. Most people usually couldn't see the fay, but there had been increasing rumors of occurrences in which they did. Anybody could be taught to attune themselves to the Myst, but generally only Mystics and rare individuals who had a natural affinity for the Myst were able to perceive the fay without training. She herself had been one of those individuals, before fate and chance had conspired to lead her to a life as a Mystic.
Putting thoughts of the eagle aside, Pomella turned her attention to the imposing stronghold looming in front of them. For nearly five hundred years, the Fortress of Sea and Sky had dominated the southern tip of the Mothic Mountains. During those centuries, it had welcomed countless wandering Mystics, and on rare occasions played host to the island's High Mystic. But on this day, Lucal led his company and Pomella beneath the front gates and into the open courtyard beyond, the first time in the fortress's storied history that it had welcomed a common-born Mystic.
Pomella kept her hood up despite the day's heat. She found comfort in the hidden depths of the cloak, which she'd retrieved from her saddlebag along with a proper riding dress. The hood also ensured that everyone in the fortress wouldn't see her drenched in sweat from the long ride. She resisted the urge to knuckle her back. Someday, she'd learn how to ride a horse properly. Maybe, anyway.
Lucal signaled his soldiers to break off and take the prisoners to wherever it was they were to be kept. He motioned for Pomella to follow.
A pair of mailed guards holding pikes stood on either side of the inner keep's double doors. The guards turned in unison and pulled at the heavy iron rings bolted on as handles. The doors opened, yawning like the maw of a great beast opening into a gullet of shadows.
Lucal bowed in farewell and left Pomella to cross the keep's threshold by herself. She dismissed her hummingbirds, who flew up and away into the higher portions of the keep. Pomella entered the fortress and sensed the Myst stir, an unseen rush of energy swirling in the entryway, dancing with delight by her presence.
The guards stood at attention, hands on their long weapons. Beyond them, the baroness and her husband waited inside the foyer. Pomella's attention turned to Kelisia ManHinley, the ninth-generation ruler of the southern Mothic barony, wringing her hands nervously. The baroness bowed to her, followed by her husband, Pandric. Even after all these years, Pomella still felt a rush of anxiety when a noble bowed to her. She fought the urge to bow back, even lower.
"Welcome, Mistress Pomella," Pandric said. "I understand you rescued some unfortunate victims from the cruelty of slavers. The baroness and I thank you for your efforts. The recent rise of slave trading in our barony is a thorn in our side." He peered at his nervous wife. "Although I am sad to say that we have more personal matters to discuss."
Normally, it would've been unusual for Pandric to greet her first, since the line of nobility ran through Kelisia, but a quick glance at the circles beneath the baroness's puffy, bloodshot eyes was enough to tell Pomella that she was barely able to keep her emotions in check. The baroness had dark wavy hair that cascaded down her back all the way to her thighs. Pomella wondered if she'd ever had her hair cut in her life. She had remarkable cheekbones, and stunning brown eyes. But there was a hollowness to her eyes, and a gauntness to her features. Pomella had heard it had been a hard week for the baroness, and for the entire House. Almost certainly the baroness had asked her husband to lead the pleasantries.
Pomella observed the easy manner with which Pandric spoke, as well as his terribly handsome features. Although she'd not met the couple until now, Pomella had heard of their youth and renowned charm. Despite the baroness's emotionally vulnerable state, the reports of her beauty not only were apparently true but also perhaps fell short. Time would tell, however, whether the noble couple would uphold the old ways of heavy discrimination against the lower castes, or embrace newer ideas.
Pomella slipped her hood back, revealing long dark hair that hung well past her shoulders. The baron and baroness had pale skin, common on Moth, several shades lighter than Pomella's. "Thank you, Lord Baron. And greetings to you, Lady Baroness." She inclined her head to each. "What a beautiful home you have here by the sea."
"You're too kind, Mistress," Pandric said. He wore a dark-blue coat, representing the ocean that the fortress overlooked, along with gray trim for the clouds that on most other days cloaked it. Pomella guessed the baron was in his mid-thirties, a little more than a decade older than herself. His short, neatly trimmed hair and beard had a couple of gray hairs just beginning to show. "The landscape is beautiful," he said, "but the fortress itself can be cold."
The baroness stepped forward, her anxiety clearly taking precedent over protocol. She took one of Pomella's hands into her own.
"Please, Mistress," Kelisia said. "Our Norana. Can you help her?"
Pomella squeezed the baroness's hand. "Call me Pomella," she said. "I will do what I can. Tell me what you know."
"She's been asleep for five days," Kelisia said. "Her nurse put her to bed, as usual, and she hasn't woken since."
Pandric slid an arm around his wife. "Norana's very much alive. We can see her breathing, and often smiling or grimacing from her dreams. But no matter what we do, we cannot rouse her."
The anguish on the baron's and baroness's faces broke Pomella's heart. Unbidden, a memory floated to her of her young brother, Gabor, from when the Coughing Plague had swept through their home village of Oakspring. Not everyone caught the disease, and nobody understood why some folk were affected and others not. Gabor had begun coughing, right when the scare was worst, and Pomella remembered the terror that had gripped her grandmhathir at the thought that his symptoms would progress into the full horrid nightmare. Even their hardened fathir, who normally gave no quarter to his emotions, lingered his hand upon Gabor's tousled hair a little more often than normal. It turned out that Gabor had just come down with the common chills, thank the Saints. But Pomella remembered the fear her family had shown, and she remembered her own.
"Take me to her," Pomella said in her most reassuring voice.
Kelisia squeezed Pomella's hand before practically running to the carpeted stairwell, which led to a landing that ascended to the upper rooms of the keep.
Pandric walked beside Pomella at a more normal pace. "My wife barely eats or sleeps," he said as they passed a set of massive stained-glass windows overlooking the landing. The artwork depicted the iconic Saint Brigid shouting commands across a ship's deck to sailors as they struggled against a storm. "I'm afraid I might lose them both."
The stained-glass artwork caught Pomella's attention because she'd never heard of Brigid sailing a ship before. The Saint and her years-long hunt for her son was the defining epic of Moth, and was frequently told on the Continent as well. Pomella knew the Toweren by heart, and often sang it when she visited commoner inns, a pastime she enjoyed but generally kept from Lal and Yarina.
Pomella pulled her attention from the glass artwork as she stepped onto the upper stairs. She focused her mind, easing it into that place where the Myst revealed itself more easily. As she climbed, she called to the Myst, pulling it from the building's stones, the wooden guardrail on the stairs, the carpet, and even the clothes she wore. The Myst swirled in her vision, like smoke churned by a passing breeze. It whispered wordless secrets with a voice she heard in her heart rather than her ears or mind. Secrets that it had witnessed through the centuries, hinting at what may yet come to pass.
Vague shapes took form within the silvery haze, existing only for moments before disappearing like water vapor on a hot day. Pomella watched as the Myst shaped itself like a painting on the wall, but it vanished as she turned her head to examine its details. Tree branches and vines dipped from the ceiling, making it appear as though for a moment she were walking in a shimmering likeness of the Mystwood.
All of these visions were a reflection of Fayün, the land of the fay, the world that reflected their own, like the opposite side of a coin. They were glimpses of a different realm, one in which the Fortress of Sea and Sky did not exist or, if it did, it existed in a different, unfamiliar form.
Up ahead, Kelisia looked back over her shoulder to ensure Pomella and Pandric still followed. She led them down a hallway that overlooked the entry chamber they'd stood in earlier before cutting into an adjoining passage. Several doors stood along either wall, and it was one of these that the baroness headed for.
Pomella knew which room the child was in before Kelisia approached it. She tightened her grip on her staff. Silver light, blazing bright, seeped from beneath the nearest doorway. Vines and ivy crawled across the door, invisible to everyone except Pomella with her Mystic eyes.
The baroness led them into the room. To Kelisia and her husband, the room likely appeared to be a normal nursery, albeit a wealthy one worthy of the eldest daughter to the nobles living in the Fortress of Sea and Sky. A crib stood against the far wall, which had been painted with a mural depicting the Mystwood, with the green conical tip of Kelt Apar's central tower rising above the tree line. Soft candles lit the room, while thin drapes rippled from a breath of sea breeze blowing in from a southern-facing window. An elderly nurse rocked in a chair beside the crib, knitting.
But that was not the entirety of the room Pomella beheld.
Instead, she saw the world of Fayün bleeding across into the human world. Usually it was just a single creature or plant that crossed over the veil into their world, and then only briefly. But rising before Pomella was an entire jungle of trees and vines and creatures, running and scattering as she and the nobles walked into the room. Silvery moss-covered boulders rested beside Norana's crib. It was as if the stone had been carved to fit the baby's crib.
There could only be one reason to explain the unusual lingering glimpse of Fayün. In recent months Mistress Yarina, the High Mystic of Moth, had been preparing her apprentice, Vivianna, and Pomella for the coming of Crow Tallin, a rare celestial event in which the fay would linger longer than usual in the human world. Pomella only understood a little about it but could think of no other reason for such a phenomenon.
Pomella crossed the room and peered into the crib. Little Norana, not even a year old, lay on her back beneath a thin blanket with her fists balled up beside her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell with slow puffs. She looked like any other sleeping tyke except for four ragged scratches running down her face, across her eye, from her forehead to her neck. The scratch marks weren't normal. They shimmered with silver light, and lay etched into her skin.
Pomella bit her lip. Norana's parents wouldn't be able to see the scratches. Something from Fayün had caused them. Just as Mystics could Unveil the Myst and Fayün to manipulate it, so could the denizens and environment of the fay realm sometimes affect the human world. It was extremely rare, happening only a few times on Moth every year, which was high compared to other nations because, of all places in the world, the island was said to be where Fayün overlapped the most with the humans' own world.
The old nurse stood and silently bowed her way out of the room. She closed the door as she left. Leaning her staff against the wall, Pomella placed her hand over Norana's head. The little girl had no fever, but Pomella found herself remarking at how soft the child's hair and skin were.
She glanced around the crib, looking for signs of the fay creature that might have caused the scratches. Silver walnut shells, leaves, and broken twigs lay scattered around the baby. Turning her gaze upward, Pomella glimpsed a pair of silver eyes lurking in the branches of a large tree. The eyes blinked once, then faded into the tree.
Kelisia approached Pomella. "Do you know what ails her?"
"She's been injured by a fay creature," Pomella said. "The veil between the fortress and Fayün is thin here. In the fay realm, this very spot isn't a child's nursery, but a den to some sort of wild animal."
Kelisia's eyes narrowed in fierce determination. Pomella admired how, upon learning this information, the baroness didn't wail or despair.
"Then how do we purge this infestation?"
Pomella shook her head. "That isn't an option. There are ways to strengthen the veil to prevent this from happening, but for the moment, it would be best to move the nursery elsewhere and lock this room off from the rest of the fortress."
Kelisia's eyes burned. Before she could speak, though, Pandric placed a calming hand onto his wife's shoulder. "Please, Pomella. We will do anything to help her."
Pomella gestured to the tyke. "May I?"
After easing her hands beneath the child's neck and lower back, Pomella lifted Norana into her arms. She remarked at how wee the child was, so thin and frail. She cradled the tyke in her arms and bounced her lightly. "I'll need a handful of moments alone with her, please. She is safe."
Kelisia seemed as though she was about to protest, but Pandric patted her arm and pulled her toward the hallway outside.
"Oh, and Baron?" Pomella said in a quiet voice. He paused at the doorway. "There is a large enclave of Unclaimed outside your city who need food. What I do here is given freely, but I hope you will consider acting generously on their behalf as well." She gave them both a reassuring smile.
Pandric nodded in understanding, then closed the door.
"Oh, you sweet warrum," Pomella said to Norana, using the old term her grandmhathir had used for small children. "What scratched you?"
Pomella closed her eyes and reached out with the Myst. She sought the child's emotions, and perhaps, if she was lucky, a glimpse of her memory of what had happened. Like most of her skills, reaching into memories was one talent she'd somehow taught herself over the years. She'd never done it with a child, however.
Pomella began to hum a gentle lullaby. Singing had always been at the heart of her relationship to the Myst. In her years as a Mystic apprentice, it helped her Unveil the Myst and grow. And today, seven years later as a full Mystic, she was still empowered by singing.
Her footsteps sank into the soft rug that filled most of the room. Pomella walked around it, gliding around the whole room with Norana in her arms. She sang an old lullaby she remembered from her grandmhathir. It was a song she'd never forget because it had been sung to her throughout her early life, and that of her brother. Supposedly, the song was another one associated with the Brigid legend, a lullaby the Saint supposedly sang to her infant son. Pomella wondered if that was true, or whether it had been adopted and assimilated by the people of Moth who could never get enough of their beloved Saint. Whatever its origin, Pomella measured her footsteps to the slow rhythm of the song.
"Bab-bie wonder
Bab-bie light
How'd you fall into my sight?"
As she walked and sang, Pomella willed the Myst to accompany her with a gentle tune. It was something she'd taught herself to do during her apprentice years. She found that she could make the Myst play music only she could hear and, because it came from her, it was always in perfect harmony with what she sang.
"Bab-bie star
Bab-bie night
Let me hold you under moonlight.
With eyes so gentle
Soft and down
Take me with you into town.
Bab-bie light."
Before Pomella could begin the next stanza, Norana twitched in her arms. The child remained asleep, but her face scrunched up as if to cry. Pomella let her Myst music continue, but she shifted from singing to humming in order to concentrate on what was happening.
Silvery light rolled off Norana now. The scratches on her face pulsed angrily. Pomella pinched her fingers just above the child's face and pulled, as if she were tugging an invisible string. As she did so, she willed the Myst to bring forth the child's recent memory.
A tendril of light rose from the center of Norana's forehead, twisting around Pomella's fingers. Rising with it came blurry memories. In that moment, Pomella was able to recall, as if it were her own memory, a time when she—as Norana—lay in her crib, sucking on her fist. A cat, striped with different shades of silver, slinked across the crib. It hissed at her, and Norana cried. The cat came closer, and Norana flailed, smacking it with a tiny fist. The creature dodged and hissed and fled, but not before taking a hard swipe at the child.
Pomella steadied herself with a deep breath. Even if Norana could somehow see fay creatures at this early age, it was unlikely she could affect or hurt them.
Or so Pomella had believed.
She looked upward into the silver tree growing above the crib, searching for the pair of eyes she'd seen earlier. Sure enough, as she peered into the branches they appeared. Pomella reached out with the Myst, and pulled the creature forward. It was the same cat from Norana's memory, twice as large as the child herself.
The cat hissed and spit, but Pomella pinned it down with the Myst. "You will leave this child alone," she said to the cat. "I will have her relocated to a new room, but this is the human realm. Remain in yours. Go."
She released the fay creature, and it fled into the branches before misting away.
"There. It shouldn't hurt you again," Pomella said to Norana. "And I will keep this memory so it no longer haunts you. Now, let's do something about those scratches and wake you up."
She hummed again as she summoned the Myst. She touched Norana's face, gently rubbing the wounds. Slowly they faded, soothed away by her touch. It wasn't that the baby had received a physical wound, or that Pomella had been able to heal her directly, but rather she was able to erase the connection that bound the child to the wound that linked her to Fayün.
Sometimes it all made Pomella's head hurt. Being a Mystic wasn't easy.
When the scars vanished, Norana opened her eyes. Deep brown pools stared up at her.
Pomella smiled. "Hello." Norana's chin quivered and then she began to wail.
Pomella figured this was a good time to hand her back to her parents.
Copyright © 2018 by Jason Denzel
Trade PaperbackDigital Audioe-Book Format
Mystic Dragon: The enchanting epic fantasy novel from Jason Denzel, the founder of Dragonmount.
Seven years have passed since lowborn Pomella AnDone became...
Seven years have passed since lowborn Pomella AnDone became an unlikely Mystic's apprentice.
Though she has achieved much in a short time, as a rare celestial event approaches, Pomella feels the burden of being a Mystic more than ever. The Mystical realm of Fayün is threatening to overtake the mortal world, and as the two worlds slowly blend together, the land is thrown into chaos. People begin to vanish or are killed outright, and Mystics from across the world gather to protect them. Among them is Shevia, a haunted and brilliant prodigy whose mastery of the Myst is unlike anything Pomella has ever seen.
Shevia will challenge Pomella in every possible way, from her mastery of the Myst to her emotional connection with Pomella's own friends—and as Shevia's dark intentions become more clear, Pomella fears she may be unstoppable.
Tor Books
"The twists and turns in the plot kept this reader on her toes. Pomella has spunk and courage, and sweet Sim is loyal to a fault. It's hard not to fall into this story."—RT Book Reviews on Mystic
"Denzel, best known for his founding of a preeminent Robert Jordan fan site, builds a solidly enjoyable debut. Pomella's manipulation of the Myst through song gives the story a poetic feel. This fantasy adventure is clearly inspired by the classics but still finds something new to say."—Publishers Weekly on Mystic


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Shattering design to release ahead of combine
New genetics provide pod-shatter-resistant canola variety.
Michael Robin \ Western Producer Aug 7, 2022 3:11 PM
Canola is tested at a Cibus greenhouse in San Diego. Its pod shatter resistance technology is one of a suite of projects aimed at developing traits that confer disease resistance and fertilizer efficiency and provide more weed control options for farmers. Cibus
WESTERN PRODUCER — Favourable regulations and about 20 million acres of cropland devoted to the crop is making canola in Canada an ideal market entry point for San Diego-based Cibus to introduce new pod-shatter-resistant genetics.
The independent crop trait developer recently received a patent for its pod-shatter reduction trait that strengthens the canola pod sheath. This helps prevent harvest loss particularly in straight-cut canola, which is more susceptible.
"What we saw very quickly is that the market is heading toward direct combine from windrowing," said Peter Beetham, president and chief operating officer at Cibus.
Losses from pod shattering vary widely depending on harvest conditions but about one or two bushels per acre is considered normal. Producers lose at harvest and the following spring because then they must deal with volunteer canola as a weed.
Cibus's shatter-resistance trait was developed by editing canola's existing genes to change the crop's performance using its rapid trait development system, which can, in effect, cut-and-paste genes.
This approach differs from transgenic crops, which are created by importing genes from other organisms to get the desired trait, such as herbicide tolerance. This is important because agencies such as Health Canada have deemed gene editing functionally the same as conventional plant breeding techniques, needing no extra regulation. Beetham said the United Kingdom is taking a similar stance and he expects the European Union to eventually follow suit.
Cibus tested the shatter-resistance trait with their own canola genetics in successful field trials. From there, they worked with nine seed companies in North America and Europe so they could incorporate the trait into their own varieties.
"So, we're in the process of moving to hand back materials to partners in the next six to 12 months," Beetham said. "We're running trials in the field all the time, so this is not a research project. It's a commercial launch line we're on, heading to 2025."
Beetham said gene editing offers more precision, power and speed than other plant-breeding methods. It's able to bring a new variety online in about five years, one third of the time compared to a transgenic variety.
On the development side, transgenics also tend to be limited to traits governed by a single gene and they face regulatory hurdles so high only a few of the world's largest ag corporations can develop them. Mutagenesis, another popular method, faces no special regulatory hurdles but creates random genetic mutations that have to be bred out over several generations of plantings.
Neither of these older methods was suitable for the pod-shatter resistance project.
"The patent describes in a little more detail the complexity of the trait," Beetham said. "That again is unique to Cibus. We're able to target multiple genes and in this case, up to eight genes."
Once the trait was working as desired, it was fairly straightforward to start moving it into other varieties.
Some of Cibus's field trials are in Canada, notably in eastern Saskatchewan and Manitoba, where Cibus has benefited from direct feedback from farmers working the fields. Canadian staff members are also active in producer groups, industry and bodies such as Seeds Canada.
Beetham said these connections have provided some guidance. For instance, the pod shatter resistance trait is something farmers were calling for as it makes harvesting canola less time-critical. This means, for example, it's less likely to have to choose between canola shelling or losing quality on harvest-ready wheat in the field.
Cibus works on five main crops: canola, corn, wheat, rice and soybeans. Many of the traits it works on are highly conserved, that is, they rely upon genes that are found across species. This means an advance in one crop can often be adapted for another.
"The really great news is we've focused on canola first and there's 50 million acres of canola we see around the world right now," Beetham said. "It's a crop that's expanding, as you know, there's a whole lot of new crush plants going into Canada, so the ability to provide a domestic supply is going to improve, and it's a big export market."
Since Cibus is independent of the big four global ag chemical companies, Beetham said they are free to pursue, for example, weed control options beyond common chemistries such as glyphosate, glufosinate and the imi-class herbicides. These, over time, become less effective as weeds develop resistance.
"We'd also like to bring some other weed management solutions to the farmer," he said. "This is the beauty of being able to target genes using our technology and multiple edits, the complexity. You can start to think about bringing forward other chemistries that will provide farmers with better weed management solutions, to use less herbicide for the same outcome."
Another project is to engineer crops to use fertilizers more efficiently, both to help reduce crop input costs and reduce impact on the environment and climate. This is especially timely as governments consider new regulations on the use of synthetic fertilizers.
"I think the goal is somewhere between improve the nitrogen use by between 30 to 50 percent to the point where in some cases you may go beyond that," Beecham said. "The reality is there are targets that we know will provide that level of efficiency. It's not if it's going to happen, it's when."
Cibus is also working on general disease resistance to protect canola from pathogens such as sclerotinia and clubroot.
"One of our true missions is on the productivity side," Beetham said. "It is allowing farmers to have solutions for everything from managing their weeds, to fertilizer to disease, and then on the agronomy side, with the pod shatter."
Harvest canola later for higher yield
China's canola plans still not at previous level
Canola enjoys U.S. soybean oil's success

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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Bad Crow Review
Two Cats Looking At The Same Bird
badcrow.substack.com
And seeing entirely different things
Weldon Berger
One wide-eyed, the other not (photo ©2019 Weldon Berger)
"The surprisingly good Confidence Man actually makes sense of Trump's rise and his ability to twist the media to his will."
"Maggie Haberman's Trump Biography Buys Into the Myth"
That's Eric Alterman
and Chris Lehman,
respectively. Alterman was a long-time press critic at The Nation, and fills the same role now at The American Prospect. Lehman heads The Nation's D.C. bureau and serves as contributing editor at two publications he once helmed, The Baffler and The New Republic. His review is published in The Nation.
Lehman says Haberman takes the wrong on-ramp early in the book by ascribing Trump's narcissism and rage to his hunger for fame, rather than the reverse, and rather than relating Trump's promotional and political success to failures of the press and other social mythmakers.
[W]hat aspirant to the American presidency wasn't driven by an outsize hunger for public attention? Like any single-minded foray into politically tinged pop psychology, it blots out a good deal of the background forces in American political, cultural, and economic life that culminated in the great man's rise to power. Assigning Trump the life mission of seeking more and greater recognition leaves much of the causation behind the book's tabloid-style subtitle—The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America—unexplained. America has been broken, apparently, because it's just collateral damage in Trump's lifelong ego rampage—and so the conservative movement's broader embrace of anti-government nihilism, white nationalism, and militant conspiracy-mongering rates scarcely any notice.
Much as the D.C. palace-intrigue dispatches of Bob Woodward function as a sort of glorified theater criticism, as Joan Didion memorably observed, so does the elevation of CEO trickster gods like Trump serve to relieve the national business press—and the mediasphere more broadly—of the unwelcome pressures of critical thinking and reporting in the actual public interest. The resulting infatuation not only elevated Trump out of all imaginable proportion to his actual scale of accomplishment; it also fuels presidential boomlets for business executives like Lee Iacocca, Carly Fiorina, and Howard Schultz, while furnishing raw materials for the actual presidential runs of Ross Perot Jr. and Mitt Romney. (To say nothing, of course, of the unseemly bro-worship cult of Elon Musk.)
Until we can take full account of the untold destruction wreaked under this media-sanctioned conflation of business predation and civic virtue, the American system is poised to churn out a long regress of Trumpian strongmen-in-the-making. And personality-driven accounts like Confidence Man will avail us nothing in this onslaught.
You can't go wrong slagging Bob Woodward, in our view, which is a small part of what makes Lehman's the superior understanding of the book. What really distinguishes his review from Alterman's is his understanding that the press and the society which allowed Trump to thrive were both broken long before the 2016 election.
Are you experienced?
Alterman, who is a good press critic in the moment, remembers attending a sitting with Maureen Dowd, who was then still a reporter rather than a columnist.
I have an imperfect memory from 1984 or 1985 of attending a "Master's Tea" at Yale, in which Maureen Dowd and another reporter gave a talk and were asked (by me, I guess) about what was then a remarkably generous Times Magazine Trump profile. They did not pretend that the story was accurate in the larger sense. Rather they explained that their subject had ended up getting something of a free pass because nobody had any interest in going on the record about someone so hypersensitive, vindictive, and unrestrained by truth or even the law.
Those of us who make our living in even remote proximity to the New York/Washington/politico/media/corporate world of back-scratching (and backstabbing) all expect a certain amount of personal corruption to go unmentioned to the great unwashed. This can involve killing stories as a personal favor (or writing them), or not looking too deeply into matters that might complicate one's life or one's job or interfere with a favor one either needs now or might one day. Almost no institution is immune.
We're inserting ourselves into this discussion, and then returning to Alterman. This is something we wrote on the occasion of Ronald Reagan's death in 2004.
I miss Richard Nixon. He was an evil motherfucker and everyone knew it, even his friends and family and die-hard supporters, with the possible exception of Bill Safire, the exception who proves the rule. Nixon was responsible for one of the great advances in political culture, the removal of the concept of "shame" from the moral glossaries not only of politicians, which would have been no big deal, but, during the course of his "rehabilitation," of journalists as well. The real heyday of moral relativism began with Dick.
I won't miss Ronald Reagan, even though his contribution to political culture, government by hallucination, probably outstrips Nixon's in import. One of the results of employing an Alzheimer's victim as president was that it came to seem first impolite, and then cruel, and then downright treasonous to make public note of the discrepancies between rhetoric and reality. We're still reaping that whirlwind, and it's that, more than his support for muggers and thieves, murderers and genocidal dictators, more than his perhaps inadvertent surrender to and glorification of government by unofficial means, for which I'll never forgive him.
Nixon killed shame, and Reagan killed reality. It's no wonder so many of the latter's former loyalists now worship Bush, who has far outstripped his mentor at the art of living exclusively inside his own mind.
(Little did we know what worship looked like, or living exclusively in one's head.)
The point being that the press had made themselves the perfect patsies for Trump before he was more than a blip on the national radar, never mind a presidential candidate, and that their evident frailties went far beyond what Alterman mistakes as casual corruption in his encounter with Dowd. Her feature on Trump was a situation in which neither the reporters nor the subject were telling the truth, and the story still somehow wound up in the Times's prestigious magazine with both parties fully aware of what had transpired.
That's not casual corruption, or the corrosive effect of access journalism: it's fiction. So why did they run the story? Well, they ran it because truth was already a non-factor in reporting on, or building up, figures with mythic appeal to the public. It simply didn't matter, and in many respects it still doesn't matter post-the Trump presidency. Balance, comfort and propriety are important, and fear and favor are not chopped liver.
Alterman remarks at the head of his review that he was a consumer but not an admirer of Haberman's "often eye-popping" scoops "that often lacked the necessary context to explain why they mattered." He also quotes Haberman as having warned her colleagues in The Times Washington bureau on the night Trump won the 2016 election that "You have no idea what's coming."
Well why the fuck didn't they? Big newspapers are rarely big on context; every story has a budget and a word count, and reporting something all the way out can blow both. But the context of Trump is that he's a narcissistic, misogynist, racist, lying, bullying crook, and a significant number of reporters at The Times during the campaign and after the election — reporters on the entertainment desk, on the business desk, on the real estate desk, on the opinion desk and, like Haberman, on the politics desk — had evidently known this in some instances for decades. One could even describe it as institutional knowledge.
Alterman closes his review with an acknowledgement that looking to Haberman and her colleagues for answers regarding how a society gets so warped that a Trump can take power is pointless, which is true, but we're not the first society in which that's happened or in which the press were partners, if sometimes junior partners, in the process.
The real question that Trump's rise raises is: How in the world did we become a country where 70 million-plus people ever thought that this dangerously evil lunatic should be trusted with the most powerful job in the world, and apparently still do? Haberman's narrow focus on Trump's career tells that part of the story more fully and comprehensively than you'll find anywhere else.
But given that Donald Trump is as much a symbol of what's wrong with this country as he is its cause, we're going to need a great deal more. And given their investment in the system that gave rise to Trump and helped to invite the abuses that led us to our current, precipitous moment, you can bet we are not going to get those answers from the mainstream media.
We're not clear on Alterman's meaning here. Is he saying Haberman's biography can explain how Trump inspired a cult or became president? We don't think it could do either of those things without recognizing all the other players and threads which were part of that process, and neither review suggests she does that. Maybe there's an unfortunate paragraph break.
We do have reporters in the mainstream media (a term we hate) who are capable of doing the work necessary to dig out and synthesize "those answers" in at least substantial if not full part, but who would pay for them to do that? It'd take years, it'd take a gazillion dollars, and it wouldn't earn even half that time or money back.
And if Haberman doesn't highlight those questions, or even recognize them as questions, what good is her book?
Don't buy the book, don't steal the book, don't boggle over the excerpts, don't piss on a copy if you see it on fire.
We mentioned yesterday how much we appreciate the Guardian photo galleries. We neglected one featuring Dawoud Bey in connection with a museum retrospective of his work in Harlem.
Beautiful work it is, and it touches on the ethics of street photography.
Your baby so ugly …
Art Pepper isn't invariably the most soulful of players, but that doesn't matter. We listened to his "Waltz Me Blues" to get in the mood for this edition, followed by "The Art of the Ballad," which is all soul. We then stumbled upon bassist Curtis Counce and his group's "Pink Lady," and we're out with The Avalanches and their most recent album, "We Will Always Love You," which is also their first album without a single overtly absurdist tune on it (except maybe the Morse code one). To gain a full understanding of just how weird these guys can get, check out the 2016 video for their hit song, "Frankie Sinatra."
You'll thank us, really.
That's all we got, comrades. Be well, take care.
Eric Alterman on Confidence Man at The American Prospect
Chris Lehman on Confidence Man at The Nation
Our farewell to a drug store truck-drivin' man at Slate (scroll down)
Dawoud Bey photographs in the Guardian
Snopes debunking an old cautionary tale
The Avalanches with "Frankie Sinatra"
I have a problem with ascribing great influence to the Maureen Dowds, Bob Woodwards, and Maggie Habermans of the journalistic world. My impression is that the vast majority of American voters neither read them nor recognize their names. My impression is hardly scientific inasmuch as it is based on anecdotal evidence. The in-law who believes Trump is a great businessman but wouldn't be caught dead reading the Times or the Post. He just wants to believe it and doesn't care what evidence one gives him contrary to his opinion. Another is the single issue voter (abortion) who doesn't care about anything else. A third is the great mass of out of work manufacturing employees who think Trump will fix that just because they want him to and who believe illegal aliens and minorities are displacing them in their jobs. In short, those writers ain't really all that influential. As some Republican politician was quoted on Herschel Walker's deficiencies, "I don't care about that; I want control of the Senate."
5 replies by Weldon Berger and others
© 2023 Weldon Berger


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GeoIQ & Esri
Okay, everybody calm the hell down. Anyone who thinks that the Esri acquisition of GeoIQ is strange hasn't been paying attention to two things: 1) the direction that Esri says they want to go and 2) what the GeoIQ platform really is. I would be very surprised if GeoIQ becomes the 2012 version of Atlas GIS. This acquisition/merger makes more sense than may be initially apparent.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_eyFiClAzq8]
It's no secret that I've worked with Esri tools for a long time and my recent work with the GeoIQ platform has been well-documented on this blog, including work integrating the two platforms at the API level. Based on what I've seen from both companies, here are thoughts on why I think this move makes a lot of sense:
First, why it makes sense for Esri…
GeoIQ/GeoCommons is, and has been for a long time, what ArcGIS Online (AGOL) should be and still isn't. It was built from the beginning as a hosted platform without any encumbrances of an existing technology/code base. It is stable, staying online throughout many recent incidents, in a way that AGOL can't claim. The back-end data storage architecture, developed on a "NoSQL" platform and designed by GeoIQ, is already much more scalable than anything coming from a geodatabase legacy.
Esri made their mark in client/server (there's an oldie) GIS and have not been able to successfully move past it to this day. You can move ArcGIS to Amazon if you want but it's still client/server. If you pull back and think about it, the least logical thing you can do when trying to build a SaaS is to try and port an architecture that was designed for desktops and servers. GeoIQ, on the other hand, never designed for those platforms. Their SaaS was built to be a hosted system, accessible via an API. That approach has enabled them to expand from data storage to cartographics/visualization to analytics smoothly and consistently.
The API is key here. The GeoIQ platform is exposed via a "RESTish" HTTP+JSON API. If you examine the API documentation with an eye toward bridging to the Esri GeoServices REST Specification (which I have), it doesn't take long to get from GeoIQ's overlays, maps and analytics to Esri's map services, feature services and server extensions. Resource hierarchies are a little different and, of course, JSON syntax is different but none of those are insurmountable hurdles. In fact, it would be no more difficult to make GeoIQ emit Esri JSON than it would be to make the Esri REST API emit GeoJSON.
Based on my previous analyses, I don't think putting a GeoServices REST implementation on top of GeoIQ would be the most technically challenging thing in the world. And given the existence of the OGC GeoService REST SWG, doing so may eventually get you in line for standards compliance. (I'll leave the rest of you to debate the value of that.) But, aside from potential standards compliance, the biggest reason to do so would be to enable all of the existing Esri client tools that already know how to interact with the Esri REST API to be able to talk to the GeoIQ platform.
So let's summarize: In a hosted world, the back-end implementation doesn't really matter much because client tools talk through an API. If I'm using HTTP to communicate, I don't care if it's COM or Java or Ruby or whatever on the back end. That's why APIs are valuable and those built to use standards like HTTP are even more so. GeoIQ has an in-place, highly-scalable, spatial storage/visualization/analytics platform that's exposed through an HTTP interface. Bolt on another interface, and you have ArcGIS Online. There's some work involved but not nearly as much as building the platform from scratch.
So, if Esri is smart, the GeoIQ platform becomes ArcGIS Online. They'd need to work on improving the tools to pass data between the hosted platform and the client/server platform, and maybe tighter integration with the desktop tools to ease publishing. It would probably be good to beef up symbology in GeoIQ as this is one thing that Esri currently does better, more easily, than GeoIQ. Also the analytical tools in place with GeoIQ are already win over AGOL.
Why it makes sense for GeoIQ…
So I've done a good bit of work with the GeoIQ platform and APIs. Probably not enough to call myself an expert but enough to feel comfortable. I've worked on a couple of successful implementations, including the ClimaScope portal recently mentioned on the GeoIQ blog and am currently in the middle of another one. I have found the platform to be impressive, with the potential for a great amount of productivity.
A couple of years ago, I had the good fortune to attend the FortiusOne holiday party (they weren't yet called GeoIQ). One thing that struck me about that evening was the dedication and passion that every single employee seemed to have for what they were doing. Everyone was committed to building the best tools they possibly could. I got the sense that if someone were tasked with building a CSV exporter, they would make sure it was the best CSV exporter anyone had ever seen. I came away from that experience a believer.
Over the ensuing time working with the GeoIQ platform, I have noticed small anomalies here and there: documentation that's not quite up to date, small bugs, longer response times, etc. These types of issues are not uncommon but are somewhat out of character for an organization with a high level of dedication and enthusiasm.
That said, my role as a business owner has given me an interest in things such as acquisition drivers. What I have come to realize is that the small issues I was observing are not uncommon for a small company that has achieved a certain level of growth but has plateaued. In other words, growing pains. The reasons small companies plateau are varied but getting past a plateau can be difficult and may require additional resources that are difficult to muster internally. This can lead small companies to seek acquisition.
GeoIQ has always been very dedicated to how their technology is applied. They have a noticeable footprint in the DoD world and have had high-profile implementations such as the World Bank, World Wildlife Fund and others on the NGO side of things. Not coincidentally, these are areas in which Esri is active. In short, there has probably always been more in common between Esri and GeoIQ than met the eye. GeoIQ now has access to the resources of a larger company than help mitigate their growing pains and help them more effectively focus on the application areas they care about.
In my opinion, this acquisition not only makes sense, it is somewhat classic. In hindsight, it could even be called obvious. I could go on about this but I won't.
Many in our industry, myself included, took a vicarious enjoyment in the David-versus-Goliath interplay between GeoIQ and Esri but now it's time for us to get back to work. I think all of the principals involved in this transaction deserve credit for keeping open minds and being able to look past all of that to recognize the potential common benefits of joining forces. I sincerely hope GeoIQ doesn't become the next Atlas GIS and I suspect it won't.
big boy pants
GeoIQ


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Dallas Drug Lawyer
Defending Against Drug Charges in Dallas, TX
Drug charges in Texas hold a heavy weight. Texas is arguably one of the toughest states on criminal drug charges. If you've been arrested for drug charges in DFW you need to contact a criminal defense attorney as soon as possible. Having a drug defense attorney defending you is essential in the outcome of your case.
RJ Harber is a former prosecuting attorney and now Dallas criminal DWI defense attorney that has seen many drug cases, and from both sides. Mr. Harber has the expertise in Dallas drug laws to guarantee that your case is handled the best it possibly can be.
Call our offices at (214) 389-1189 to get a free case evaluation today.
Types of Cases We Handle
Dallas, TX Drug Offense Laws
In the Health and Safety Code, Chapter 481 Texas Controlled Substance Act, drugs and narcotics are defined as…
(16) "Drug" means a substance, other than a device or a component, part, or accessory of a device, that is:
(A) recognized as a drug in the official United States Pharmacopoeia, official Homeopathic Pharmacopoeia of the United States, official National Formulary, or a supplement to either pharmacopoeia or the formulary;
(B) intended for use in the diagnosis, cure, mitigation, treatment, or prevention of disease in man or animals;
(C) intended to affect the structure or function of the body of man or animals but is not food;
(29) "Narcotic drug" means any of the following, produced directly or indirectly by extraction from substances of vegetable origin, independently by means of chemical synthesis, or by a combination of extraction and chemical synthesis:
(A) opium and opiates, and a salt, compound, derivative, or preparation of opium or opiates;
(B) a salt, compound, isomer, derivative, or preparation of a salt, compound, isomer, or derivative that is chemically equivalent or identical to a substance listed in Paragraph (A) other than the isoquinoline alkaloids of opium;
(C) opium poppy and poppy straw; or
(D) cocaine, including:
(i) its salts, its optical, position, or geometric isomers, and the salts of those isomers;
(ii) coca leaves and a salt, compound, derivative, or preparation of coca leaves; and
(iii) a salt, compound, derivative, or preparation of a salt, compound, or derivative that is chemical
The Health and Safety Code in section (38) also describes "Possession" as means actual care, custody, control, or management.
Drugs are classified into groups; for example…
1 ) Cocaine, Heroin, Hydrocodone, Oxycodone
1A) LSG
2 ) Ecstasy, PCP
3 ) Valium, Xanax
4 ) Morphine
Drug Possession Penalties
Penalties for classified drugs include but are not limited to:
Amount Offense Fine Jail
Less than 1 gram State felony No more than $10,000 180 days to 2 years in jail
1 gram- 4 grams Third degree felony No more than $10,000 2 years to 10 years in prison
4 grams- 400 grams Second degree felony No more than $10,000 2 years to 20 years in prison
200 grams- less than 400 grams First degree felony No more than $10,000 5 years to 99 years in prison
400 grams or more Enhanced first degree felony No more than $100,000 10 years to 99 years in prison
Less than 20 units State felony No more than $10,000 180 days to 2 years in jail
20 units to less than 4,000 units Third degree felony No more than $10,000 2 years to 10 years in prison
80 units to less than 4,000 Second degree felony No more than $10,000 2 years to 20 years in prison
4,000 units to less than 8,000 units First degree felony No more than $10,000 5 years to 99 years in prison
8,000 units or more Enhanced first degree felony No more than $250,000 15 years to 99 years in prison
Less than one gram State felony Up to $10,000 180 days to 2 years in jail
More than 1 gram to less than 4 grams Third degree felony Up to $10,000 2 years to 10 years in prison
More than 4 grams to less than 400 grams Second degree felony Up to $10,000 2 years to 20 years in prison
400 grams or more Enhanced first degree felony Up to $50,000 5 years to 99 years in prison
Class 3 & 4
Less than 28 grams Class A Misdemeanor Up to $4,000 No more than a year in jail
28 grams to less than 200 grams Third Degree Felony Up to $10,000 From 2 years to 10 years in prison
200 grams to less than 400 grams Second Degree Felony Up to $10,000 From 2 years to 20 years in prison
400 grams or more Enhanced First Degree Felony Up to $50,000 From 5 years to 99 years
Along with any of those charges, due to the Texas Controlled Substances Act, the state of Texas could even suspend your license for up to six whole months. Don't like those numbers? RJ Harber's main priority is to ensure that you have the best legal representation possible in your case.
Charged with an a drug offense? Contact the Law Offices of RJ Harber
The Law Offices of RJ Harber are a Dallas-based private law practice defending the citizens of the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex. As a Dallas-native and former Dallas County prosecuting attorney, RJ Harber is the best Dallas drug attorney to represent you in your case. Call our firm at: (214) 389-1189.


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Timothy T. Baldwin
Randall L. Tobias Chair in Leadership
Timothy T. Baldwin is the Eveleigh Professor of Business Leadership at the Indiana University Kelley School of Business. Professor Baldwin holds a Ph.D. in Organizational Behavior from Michigan State University and an MBA from MSU as well.
Professor Baldwin has published his research work in leading academic and professional outlets including the Academy of Management Journal, Journal of Applied Psychology, Personnel Psychology and Academy of Management Executive. He has won several national research awards including eight Best Paper awards from the National Academy of Management. He has also twice been the recipient of the Richard A. Swanson Excellence in Research Award presented by the American Society for Training & Development (ASTD). He is the co-author of two books; Developing Management Skills: What Great Managers Know and Do (McGraw-Hill, 2007) and Improving Transfer Systems In Organizations (Jossey Bass: 2003).
In his time at Indiana University, Professor Baldwin has frequently been recognized for teaching excellence including eight MBA Teaching Awards, the Eli Lilly Alumni Teaching Award, the FACET All University Teaching Award, and the Dow Innovation in Teaching Fellowship.
Professor Baldwin's background includes consultation with Cummins Engine, Eli Lilly, FedEx, Whirlpool and a variety of other organizations in both the public and private sector. He has designed and delivered numerous executive education seminars in the US and abroad including the Kelley School's Asia-Pacific Management Development program. He serves on the Board of Directors of Paul I. Cripe, Inc., a professional services firm based in Indianapolis.


As March Madness heats up, one PR agency took an interesting new approach to bracketology. Schwartz MSL Insights Group developed "The Social Media Power Bracket," which determined the winner of the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament based on the social media savvy of their athletic programs.
Each team received a Social Media Power Ranking based on the following and fan engagement of the school's official athletics Facebook, Twitter and YouTube pages. Winners for all The Big Dance matchups were then decided by which school held the dominant social media score.
Duke was revealed as the (social media) tournament champion, and other renowned college basketball powerhouses including North Carolina, Miami and Notre Dame rounded out the final four.
The top contenders all provide a steady flow of information to followers on their social networks including updates, photos and event details. More importantly, these programs take the time to interact with their fans through contests, giveaways and direct responses. This type of devoted communication excites fans and helps them feel connected to the organizations.
Social networks can be very powerful and cost-effective tools for staying connected to your audience. Effectively utilizing them to engage your followers reinforces brand loyalty in any industry. In this case, students, alumni and fans feel a part of their favorite team on a daily basis, regardless of geography.
We'll find out over the next few weeks if any of the social media bracket predictions are reflected in actual tournament play. But win or lose, it's safe to say that the athletic programs which actively participate on social media are already a slam dunk with their fans.


Tenth Gear Youth Cycling is teaching some powerful life lessons, one hill at a time.
The nonprofit program, involving mostly families who belong to Village Congregational Church in Whitinsville, is in its fifth year of running long-distance bike trips for area youngsters.
Bill Roberts, an Uxbridge father of three daughters, has been a cyclist for 25 years and started the Tenth Gear trips "for fun for the kids -- for them to see the country and get to know themselves."
In July, 14 kids in Grades 5-8 biked a four-day, 185-mile loop from Whitinsville to Mystic, Conn., and back. In August, 32 high school and college kids took a bus to Hershey, Pa., and pedaled back to Whitinsville, some 400 miles, in eight days.
The kids ran a couple of car washes and a spaghetti supper to raise money to rent a trailer to haul their gear, and paid the rest of their expenses out of pocket; a weeklong trip with Tenth Gear costs approximately $200. The group stayed and ate with other church groups along the way. Some of the churches they stayed at have expressed interest in running their own bike trips, with Whitinsville as a possible stopover.
The longest day was 90 miles, said Roberts' daughter Jessie, 17. "There were a couple of big hills," she said. "It's great experience to climb them, of course, but the best part really is coming down the other side."
Tenth Gear is for all abilities, and no one rides alone. Experienced riders are paired with new riders "so there's a mentoring process going on," Bill Roberts said.
"There's always someone there to push you on," Jessie said.
Stacey Scorza, 19, also from Uxbridge, has been with Tenth Gear since the beginning. "We go different places every year," she said. "We've biked the White Mountains, the Green Mountains, a little bit of the Adirondacks."
Next year's big trip will be from Quebec to Whitinsville.
Scorza, now a sophomore at University of New Hampshire, entered 15 collegiate bike races last spring and posted her best finish, third place, in the Dartmouth Criterium. "I was leading the whole race but I lost it in the sprint," she said.
Scorza enjoys sharing what she's learning as a racer with younger riders. "Now we have three or four people in Tenth Gear who want to race," she said.
But the program's emphasis isn't speed, it's going the distance.
"There's so many kids that don't make it onto the football team or the hockey team. With biking, there's no barriers," said Steve Berube, another Uxbridge adult involved in the program. "It's just how much you have inside you that makes a difference.
"They know the group is only going as fast as its slowest rider, and they're very supportive of each other, so that's something else they learn," he continued.
Scorza credits the bike trips with transforming her from a shy girl to a confident young woman. "It opened me up to a lot of different friends, and it opened me up to what I could do -- because when you see a mountain in front of you, naturally you just want to turn around and go back. But you learn you can do it. And that's helped me with some things here (in college).
"It's kind of that 'no mountain's too big' kind of thing."
RoundQuabbin, earlier announced as taking place Oct. 10, has been changed to Oct. 11, Columbus Day. It's a 62-mile road ride around the Quabbin Reservoir, starting at noon from Bullard Farm in New Salem, followed by a barbecue. Cost is $20. For more information, call The Ride (781-641-9515).
Jim O'Neil is folding up his tent after 27 years as a bicycle dealer in Webster Square, Worcester. O'Neil's Bike Shop, 1094 Main St., is selling everything at closeout prices and getting ready to sell the building.
O'Neil got the biking bug from his father, who raced in the 1960s and started helping friends get high-quality European bikes and did bike repairs in the family garage.
The younger O'Neil opened the bike shop a few doors down from its current location and over the years expanded it to include mountain bikes and skis. He cut back on the ski side in recent years.
Lately O'Neil has found it hard to compete with Bicycle Alley, across the street, which has a a visible corner location, a large selection, and a handy parking lot.
But O'Neil hopes to open a smaller store in a different location in the spring. Meantime he'll still sell high-end bikes via the Internet (http://www.oneils.com/), a successful part of his business.
This is the last bicycling column for the year, even though the road riding season probably has many sunny days ahead. Nonetheless, both road riders and mountain bikers are shifting gears for cyclocross season.
The New England Cyclocross Series kicks off Sept. 26 with a race in Palmer and concludes Dec. 18 in Carlisle. A sidelight at the Palmer race is the annual Team Douglas Bike Swap, with dealers and individuals selling new and used bikes, parts and accessories. Admission is $3, and doors open at 9 a.m.
The New England series comes to Central Massachusetts on Nov. 26, the day after Thanksgiving, with the Gear Works Cyclocross race at Devens.
Devens, site of last year's Cyclocross National Championships, is also the site of the Bay State Cyclocross race Nov. 27.
Devens is also the venue for the first race in the nationwide SuperCup series, on Oct. 17. That series concludes Dec. 12 in San Jose, Calif., following the 'cross nationals Dec. 10-11 in California's Bay Area.
The complete cyclocross schedule, including training series in Rhode Island and Western Massachusetts, is on the Northeast Bicycle Club web site. For more information, call Tom Stevens (781-534-2454).


"Veterans Helping Veterans" is the motto of The American Legion.
Veterans who continue their service to America by helping their brothers- and sisters-in-arms and their families. Veterans whose involvement in the community creates and supports the feeling of camaraderie which makes The American Legion the nation's largest and most respected organization of wartime veterans.
The American Legion is a nonpartisan, not-for-profit organization with political influence perpetuated by its grass-roots involvement in the legislation process from local districts to Capitol Hill. Legionnaires' sense of obligation to community, state, and nation drives an honest advocacy for veterans in Indiana and in Washington. The Legion stands behind the issues most important to the nation's veterans community, backed by resolutions passed by volunteer leadership.
Indiana boasts 375 community-based Posts throughout the State with a total membership of 84,000. From youth activities to veterans' assistance, The American Legion continues to be a force in your community, state, and nation.
Our Victory Post 70 has over 725 members right in your community. For more than 97 years, we have been helping veterans and serving the citizens of Shelbyville through a variety of programs. Those programs include educating our youth about the constitution, getting people to vote and participating in charity-based drives for our military and the community.
Working with you to make America great – that's The American Legion!


text:
Grounded Gaffer's delight at O's win
Karl Robinson was 'ecstatic' with his players after their superb 6-1 success over Leyton Orient at stadiummk but insists there is still work to be done.
The Dons closed the gap on second place in Sky Bet League 1 to just one point courtesy of another terrific home triumph – the side's sixth victory in their last seven games.
It was also the fourth time this season the men from MK1 scored six or more in a fixture.
"I'm ecstatic with the performance levels and the work ethic as well," Robinson told MK Dons Player afterwards. "We were by far the better team from start to finish - for 90 minutes the players were excellent.
"It was pleasing to see us put in a performance like we did, at a time in the season where teams don't tend to score many goals. The players really deserve to take a bow because they were magnificent."
He continued: "Nobody else in the top seven, but us, won which consolidates our position in third. Now we want to try and track down second.
"It will still be an uphill challenge, we know that, because we're the underdogs. We just have to keep doing what we have to do best, which is playing football. The players are playing with freedom and expression - this is the best football I've seen a Dons team play by far."
On an afternoon where Dean Bowditch netted his fifth of the campaign, Will Grigg took his goal tally to 21 and Dele Alli bagged his 16th goal in 2014/15, it was Rob Hall who stole the headlines after netting his first senior hat-trick.
"It was great for Hally to get a hat-trick," Dons boss Robinson added. "He's a shy boy, a bit of an introvert, so I felt it was important he got the plaudits at the end of the game - he deserved it."
Robinson's Dons are in action on Tuesday night when they entertain Doncaster Rovers at stadiummk – fans who attended the games against Scunthorpe United or Leyton Orient can get half-price tickets, along with those who book for the clash against Yeovil Town.
To purchase tickets click here, visit the Box Office at stadiummk/kiosk at thecentre:mk or call 0333 200 5343. Tickets will be on sale until kick-off.
First pre-season run out for Dons
MK Dons enjoyed their first run out against an opposing team in a behind-closed-doors friendly on Friday afternoon.
Report: MK Dons 1-0 Mansfield Town
MK Dons secured promotion to Sky Bet League One courtesy of a hard-fought 1-0 victory over Mansfield Town at Stadium MK.
U23s Report: MK Dons 3-2 Peterborough United
MK Dons Under-23s secured the Central Development League South title on Tuesday afternoon as they overcame Peterborough United 3-2.
Under-18s Report: MK Dons 1-4 Bristol Rovers
MK Dons Under-18s campaign in the Youth Alliance Merit League concluded with a 4-1 defeat against Bristol Rovers at Woughton-on-the-Green on Saturday lunchtime.


Its unassuming storefront and the all-lowercase spelling of the new b. patisserie at 2821 California Street, near Divisadero, might convey a self-effacing vibe, but there is nothing small about Belinda Leong's tres chic pastry shop, which opened just before Valentine's Day.
Leong's impressive pedigree includes stints with Michelin-starred heavyweights Manresa and Gary Danko, where she was pastry chef for nearly a decade. She also spent a year in Paris working with the legendary Pierre Herme, dubbed the "Picasso of Pastry" by French Vogue.
Pastry lovers will be in heaven here. The lengthy marble display counter is not only a showstopper, but a technological marvel. Each section of the single-level surface can be set at a different temperature to keep every item at its best. For instance, lemon tarts are in a chilled section, while croissants are displayed in a room-temperature section. The case was custom-built in Paris and is the only one of its kind in the U.S.
The build-out of the new spot took roughly seven months as the entire space that formerly housed Crepe & Coffee was gutted and revamped. The interior is now bright and cheerful. Yellow bentwood chairs surround marble-topped tables with cast-iron bases, providing seating for 25. The open kitchen features a substantial butcher block prep table and an imposing lineup of floor-to-ceiling refrigeration units.
With Leong and her culinary staff intensely focused and clad in white chef's coats in their spotless surroundings, the place brings to mind a laboratory. And the laboratory analogy is fitting. Any pastry chef will tell you that pastry is a science, requiring mastery of chemistry and math. With most savory cooking, a recipe is merely a guideline. But pastry requires precise measurements, patience and optimal temperatures for ingredients and prep surfaces.
Raised in the Marina, Leong is one of those rare native San Franciscans. It's been a lifelong dream to share her pastry passion with her hometown. After returning from Europe, Leong sold her pastries wholesale and at pop-up bake sales while planning her brick-and-mortar space. She built a strong following, as evidenced by the recent surge of visitors to the previously quiet stretch of California Street.
But for all her world-class experience and the enthusiastic reception that has welcomed her, Leong is as humble as those lowercase letters in her logo. Coming out from behind the counter to greet guests and offer samples, she seems gratified by the response, while at the same time somewhat surprised by all the fanfare.
Belinda Leong's grande macaron, one of the prettiest pastries ever.
There's one problem — albeit a good one: It's impossible to choose just one item at b. patisserie. Upon entering, you are confronted with an overwhelming array of treats in a variety of shapes, colors and textures. They include both pastries and Viennoiserie — baked goods with a yeasted dough and added ingredients such as eggs, butter, cream and sugar that make them richer and sweeter — that could be loosely defined as a cross between bread and pastry. Examples are croissants ($3.50) and kouign amann ($4).
Leong's expertly executed kouign amann (pronounced "queen ah-mahn") has developed a cult following, in part due to the near impossibility of finding this rare treat in the Bay Area. The kouign amann, with its provenance in Brittany, France, is very difficult to master — much trickier than a croissant. Leong's version is a must-try.
If forced to choose, the item not to miss at b. patisserie is the grande macaron ($6.50). It is hands-down one of the prettiest pastries ever. A rose creme mousseline (rose-infused buttercream lightened with pastry cream) is sandwiched between two dacquoise layers (baked almond meringue). A round of plump raspberries surrounds the center filling. It's finished with a sprinkle of vanilla bean powder and a gorgeous, edible rose petal.
In the afternoon, b. patisserie offers open-faced savory tartines priced at $10 to $12, including a salad. The tartines are served on a levain custom made for b. patisserie by Michel Suas, Leong's business partner. Suas, widely recognized as an artisan bread expert, founded the San Francisco Baking Institute and Thorough Bread Bakery.
Look for Leong's take on the traditional flammenkuche (caramelized onions, pickled red onions, fromage blanc, Gruyere and lardons).
But it's not all serious sophistication at b. patisserie. Leong's whimsical side shows in her macarons inspired by American sweets (Snickers, Mounds and Oreos) and in a macaron-adorned tree on the wall made with real macarons she promises will change with the seasons.


Posted on Thursday, March 16th, 2017 at 5:35pm.
It's important to remember that the Austin market has seen incredible growth over the past few years, so this slowdown isn't a sign that the market is headed south. Slower home sales indicate that the Austin market is returning to normal levels. As we head into the spring selling season, it's still the best time to buy or sell your home in the Austin area. For buyers, The Federal Reserve recently announced its intention to raise interest rates nationwide, which is a sign of a confidence in the economy. With this increase on the horizon, it's a good idea to lock in your mortgage interest rate now, since rates will most likely continue to rise in the future. If you're planning on selling, it's also a great time to list your home. With low home inventory and rising prices, Austin is still in a seller's market with a high demand for homes. Whether you're buying or selling a home, we recommend working with an experienced agent to help you navigate Austin's changing market. To get in touch with one of our expert agents, contact us today!


I think that the practical side of this sermon has been very difficult for me as I have prepared. We all need to wrestle with the meaning and the application of a passage of scripture to our personal lives. If I do not apply what the Bible teaches, I am a huge hypocrite up here sharing good news on how you are supposed to live as a good obedient follower of Jesus. In other words, If I don't apply God's word to my life first, I cannot be a model and am a fake.
There is so much meat to chew on in this passage I struggled to know what to focus on for the half hour that we are together here. I see three sections in this passage.
The first being the concern about hate vs love.
The second being the importance of loving others and how that is practically worked out.
And the third being that when we are in right relationship with God, God will supply more through prayer that we can use to help others.
Evil people will deceive, hate and destroy. Christians are being persecuted around the world. They are being tortured and killed because of evil men and women. Are these your brothers and sisters in Christ? Godly people will love.
John says "From the beginning." This is not necessarily from Adam and Eve but it could be from the beginning of the ministry of Jesus. We know that, Satan deceived Eve and Adam sinned with her destroying the initial relationship with God. God continued to speak to Cain and Abel but Satan wanted to destroy God's highest creation of mankind. Satan used doubt to break the relationship between God and Adam and Eve and now he uses hate, jealousy and murder to destroy the righteous godly Abel. Satan would be triumphant now that the one who brought sacrifices which honoured God was gone! Or so he thought.
Godly people show up the evil when they arrive. In Japan before Christianity arrived, handicapped people were ignored, shunned and bullied. Girls were not allowed to get an education. When Christianity taught that we are to love all God's creation, there has been a change in the way the government takes care of those who were before denied care and education. It was the way that Christians cared, that transformed society not only what they taught. God has a better way and some people resent that message but righteous acts win God's approval.
Cain had become jealous of Abel. Not jealous of anything Abel had, but envious of his acceptance and relationship with God. The motivation for hate was jealousy that Abel had a better relationship with God and perhaps even a God gave him a greater blessing. It was the righteousness of Abel that brought about jealousy. Jesus was popular among the people both because they respected his teaching and through Jesus God did miracles of healing, driving out demons and feeding people. This prompted jealousy in the hearts of the Jewish leaders who killed Jesus.
Disobedience leads to jealousy, which leads to hatred, which leads to murder. If we have hate in our heart we are a murderer and are no better than Cain. If you are jealous or hateful like Cain, PLEASE, release your hate, bitterness and your frustration with trying to control others and love as God loves us.
The hate of the world brings death. The one who does not love "abides in death". It was sin that brought death into the world. The focus of the world is death, hate, murder - just look at the news. ISIS is killing off all the Christians in Syria and Northern Iraq. It is genocide - religious cleansing worse even than Hitler's killing of the Jews. Let us pray for justice and healing of their land and peace for our Christian brothers and sisters in that land.
Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount said, "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment." (Matthew 5:21-22). And John says in John 5: 15, "Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer." Hating is the same as murder and no murder will have eternal life. Suicide is murdering yourself. Desire to kill oneself is a sign you hate yourself. Each of you is special in God's eyes. He loves you and wants you to love what He has given to you and use it for changing the world around you not destroying it.
You see, God looks at our hearts. He knows what is in our hearts. He knows about our anger, and bitterness, and hatred, or dislike of someone, and He knows what it is doing to us. Do you ever get angry? Ever get jealous? Ask God to search your heart. If there is something that God prompts you to do, don't reject God's promptings and remain in sin. We know that he who remains in sin will not see eternal life.
During the Second World War, Jake DeShazer flew on a mission to drop bombs on Tokyo but because of wind and clouds ended up bombing Nagoya. He was captured by Japanese in China when their plane crashed. Though raised in a Christian Family, he had allowed hated for the Japanese to consume him and he reacted violently toward his captors. In Solitary confinement the Japanese sought to starve the prisoners of war but they allowed the American prisoners to get a copy of the Bible and share it in their cells. They memorized large portions and the word of God transformed Jake so that after the war was over he went back to Japan as a missionary to spread the gospel of peace and love to the Japanese.
Mitsuo Fuchida,was the Japanese Captain who led the air raid against Pearl Harbor, and who gave the command to drop the bombs to start the war. Mitsuo Fuchida was a hero in Japan after the war because of that exploit and others, but his own heart was empty. He was searching for peace and he read the tract that told the story of De Shazer's amazing change of heart after De Shazer read the Bible. Mitsuo obtained a New Testament and began to read it with growing interest and amazement. At last he came to the story of the crucifixion. When he read the Lord's words from the cross, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34), his heart broke. He realized that this One who could love his enemies and pray for those who persecuted him and despitefully used him, was manifesting a quality of life that no natural human being could possibly show. Mitsuo Fuchida became a Christian and an evangelist going up and down Japan telling the story of a love that can change human hearts.
God's way is not hate but love. John 3:16 - God so loved the world He gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth on him should not perish but have eternal life. Here we have in 1 John 3:16 "We know love by this, that He laid down His life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren." Jesus gave his life for others, we should be willing to sacrifice for others as well. This sacrifice includes giving to the needs of other believers. Not being willing to give to needs of others indicates God is not living in us. The focus of Christ is love, peace, kindness, generosity. Loving fellow believers is a sign of new life in Jesus. We many not be asked ever to sacrifice our life for someone but God wants us to sacrifice our possessions to be generous to help those in need.
John clearly defines love. It is not some emotionally mushy feeling, it is definite heartfelt action for someone in need. Jesus said in John 15:12 "Love one another just as I have loved you." How did Christ love us?
Talk is cheap. Deeds and actions are true indicators of our love for God and others. God knows our hearts and God will give to us because we keep commands and do what pleases Him.
The focus in this passage is on material goods but there is probably more emotional and spiritual needs in our country than material needs. Selfishness closes our heart to helping others. People are craving for love. Are we sharing the love Christ has given us with others?
I think one of the most moving stories in the Bible about helping the poor is the story of Ruth. Elimelech took his wife and two sons to Moab to find work because there was a drought in Israel. While there his sons grew up and married local girls. Elimelech and both his sons died leaving three widows and no children. Naomi heard that the famine was over in Israel and there was a good crop of barley and wheat so she headed back to Bethlehem where her husband still had a little land left. Ruth went with her mother-in-law to a foreign country and worked hard to care for her mom by going out into the fields to try to find a few stalks of grain that might have fallen from the harvesters. After working hard one day she had collected about a hamper's worth of barley.(22 liters) The owner of the field was Boaz and he noticed Ruth working hard. He found out he was related to her now deceased father-in-law. Boaz cared for his relative Naomi and married Ruth. Notice that Ruth was poor but she was not asking for handouts. Boaz was generous by telling his workers to leave a little extra for Ruth to collect. Ruth's hard work and care for her mother-in-law won the heart of Boaz and Ruth's great-grandson became King of Israel - King David.
Jesus said that the poor you will always have with you. (Jn 12:8, Mt, Mk ) All of us don't have enough to feed all the hungry in the world even for one meal so what does it mean to give to those in need.
Over the years, I have developed guidelines for giving for myself. Your guidelines may be different.
1 God will direct you to give of your personal resources to those in need around you. We are not just talking about Haiti or Mexico or other poor countries. There are needs all around the world and these are significant but God will direct you to see the needs of people in your family, in your community and on the mission field.
2. God will guide us to those who can responsibly use what we are giving. God does not expect us to give money to people who have foolishly wasted their money on toys, drugs, alcohol, illicit relationships, or lived beyond their means by spending selfishly on clothes, cars or computers. We have given food, shelter, and encouragement to a number of people over the years who struggled financially but we have learned not to just hand them money to waste.
3. Give to those who cannot give you back monetarily. God will give blessings which are sometimes material but more often in relationship and in spiritual joy. Going out for a coffee? Don't go out with people who will treat you to a meal later. It is not wrong to go out for a coffee but don't go out with the motive of getting something out of the other person later.
4. Give to people who you know have a need. Giving to people across the world who have a special appeal on TV is not wise stewardship. Give to organizations that will help spiritually as well as physically. Some organizations remove all Christian identity from aid to some parts of the world. If they are ashamed of Christ, I don't think they are worth helping.
5. Don't give to people who are lazy and are impoverished because they lack the motivation to work. The guy standing on the street corner with a sign, " My family doesn't have any food." has either spent the money God gave him foolishly or is lazy. Some people are genuinely sick and cannot work. My father in law had a stomach ulcer and was off work when Lydia was younger. They didn't have much growing up because of these kind of issues and not because he didn't want to work. Others helped them in their need.. Lydia saw the church helping in a time of their need. When we were asked by the body of Christ to go to seminary to prepare for serving in the mission field, God provided through generous individuals.
James 2:14 - 17 tells us: "What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? 15 Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. 16 If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? 17 In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."
Is your faith dead? Today I want you to think of all the wonderful acts of kindness that you have enjoyed doing over the last two weeks. You can be proud that you are serving the Lord so faithfully and diligently. You can thank the Lord that He has given you so many opportunities to help others in the last couple weeks. That brings glory to God and is what He desires of you.
It's easy to talk about love but hard to practice genuine love especially for those closest to us. Kids responded to their pastor when he talked about loving others with the following letters. "Dear pastor, I know God loves everybody, but he has never met my little sister." Here is another one: "Dear Pastor, I would like to go to heaven someday, because I know my big sister won't be there." Do we not feel similar sometimes?
V 22 We can ask God to help us supply the needs of others. Our hearts will not condemn us if we are asking and interceding for others. If we are selfish our hearts will end up condemning us and we may even miss heaven.
Some people pray and they feel that Heaven is shut to them. God is not listening. There are conditions for prayer.
One is that we have to have a clean heart, a pure heart.
The second thing is that we must ask according to His will.
The third that we may not like God's answer. He may answer No or Wait - both which we believe that God doesn't hear and doesn't care about us.
The fourth is that we demand that God change another person. He doesn't impose on you and he will not impose on others no matter how bad they are.
We will learn more about prayer was we go through "When God's People Pray" on Sunday evenings.
V 23 Christianity is simple. Two things to remember. Believe Jesus and love one another.
The criteria for entering heaven is believing Jesus died to forgive our sins and repent and then showing that we have loved and given to the needs of the poor, the imprisoned and those who cannot care for themselves. (Mt 25:31-40) It should become so natural that we don't even think twice about helping. There are millions in this world around you that are starving for love. Will you share it? Will you sacrifice?
If our heart does not condemn us means that we know we have searched our hearts and asked forgiveness of God and every person involved. We can ask the Holy Spirit to show us any unconfessed sin if we are not sure that we have a clear conscience. When we live free from sin, we live a life of joy, happiness and are free? Are you living that way or are there secret sins that trouble you?
"Suffer the children!" oh, hear His voice!
"Will you, My children, come?"