|♥- Dayzee- ♥|
I got THE- power!! Jesus.
|Barked: Wed Oct 28, '09 8:38am PST |
|The Room... (male author unknown)
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for one wall covered with small index card files. "How odd," I thought. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either
direction, had very different headings.
As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read 'Girls I have liked.' "Who would have kept a file about that?", I wondered with half-a-smile. I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. That file was a running list of every girl I had a crush on from the time I was very young - most of whom never even knew how I felt!
"What's going on here?" I was reeling. It was creepy. ---- And then - suddenly - without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. My Life!!
Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail that my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with skeptical horror, drew me to open each box, one by one. A few brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named 'Friends' was next to one marked 'Friends I Have Let Down.' The file titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. 'Magazines I Have Read', 'Lies I Have Told', 'Comfort I Have Given', 'Jokes I Have Laughed At', 'Ugly Ways I Have Acted'.
Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: 'Pranks I have Pulled on my Siblings.'
Others I couldn't laugh at: 'Things I Have Done in Uncontrolled Anger', 'Hurtful Things I Said to People I Cared About', 'Emotional Pain I Have Inflicted on Others.'
I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards?
But each card confirmed the truth.
Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked 'TV Shows I have watched', I realized the files had to grow to contain all the contents. The cards were packed tightly and yet, after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not only by the quality of shows but also by the vast time I knew that file represented... time taken away from things so much more important. Time I so foolishly wasted.
When I came to a file marked 'Lustful Thoughts,' I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and slowly drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I was instantly sick to think that those thoughts had been recorded - and on file labled "My Life". How many women had I defiled by thinking about them in such a sinful sleazy way. What kind of a man was I, really? What kind of a life had I lived?
Shame - such terrible shame. I had no idea one could feel the weight of oozing disgust that I felt for myself. Why didn't I see it before? I had laughed at others who were so "holy". I jeered at those who weren't living the kind of life I was. 'If it feels good, do it', had been my motto. Suddenly it was all so clear. My life was made up of so many things to that were against God - overloaded, in fact. How could I have done these things and called myself a Christian? "Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite", my mind screamed at me.
A compulsive thought jarred me and took over my thoughts: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy the files - and quick!'
In insane frenzy, I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. "NO, NO, NO... it won't let me change my past. I can't get rid of it!!"
Defeated and utterly helpless, I leaned my forehead against the wall, let out a long, shuddering cry and broke into uncontrollable sobs.
At one point, as I caught my breath, something caught my eye. The title bore 'People I Have Shared the Gospel With..' The handle was brighter than those around it, seemed newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears started again... this time so deep and painful that they wrenched my entire being. I fell on my face and cried from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must try again to find a way to destroy it. Oh, why had I thought this was a life to be proud of? A life that I bragged about? Satan's lies... satan's lies were all it was based on. I fell into his trap of lies, and wasted my one crack at this life by living for ME ... and not for my Heavenly Father. The awareness was unbearable.
But then I noticed something else.
I saw Him.
Oh, no, please not Him!! Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.
I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. I stepped aside and hid my face. Once, later, when I glanced quickly at Him, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. I was causing that pain -- ME. The way I had lived my life was the cause of Jesus' pain.
I hoped he might skip the worst boxes. But, no. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. There was such sadness in His eyes. A sadness deeper than anything I ever knew existed. I dropped my head, buried my face in my arms, and began to cry again.
He walked over and put His arms around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. "I'm SO SORRY", I repeated over and over. "I'm so, so sorry". I felt that if I said that the rest of my life, it wouldn't be enough.
He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
"No!" I shouted, rushing to Him. All I could find to say was 'No, no,' as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red - so rich, so dark, and so alive.
The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards.
I'll never understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.
He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished".
I stood up, and He led me out of the room.
There were new cards to be written.
'For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish... but have eternal life.'
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