The ROOM
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. 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 endlessly 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.” 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.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some 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 Betrayed.”
The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I Have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed At.” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I've Yelled at My Brothers.” Others I couldn't laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger,” “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” 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 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I Have Listened To,” I realized the files grew to contain their 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 so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.
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 drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: “No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In an 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.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, 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 came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, 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 lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. 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. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then 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, 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 don't think I'll ever 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 was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
--By Joshua Harris.
Orginally published in New Attitude Magazine ~ Asso Ed
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
THE MAN AND THE BIRD AT CHRISTMAS
Now the man to whom I'm going to introduce you was not a scrooge, he was a kind, decent, mostly good man. Generous to his family, upright in his dealings with other men. But he just didn't believe all that incarnation stuff which the churches proclaim at Christmas Time. It just didn't make sense and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just couldn't swallow the Jesus Story, about God coming to Earth as a man. "I'm truly sorry to distress you," he told his wife, "but I'm not going with you to church this Christmas Eve." He said he'd feel like a hypocrite. That he'd much rather just stay at home, but that he would wait up for them. And so he stayed and they went to the midnight service.
Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier and then went back to his fireside chair and began to read his newspaper. Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound. Then another, and then another. Sort of a thump or a thud. At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against his living room window. But when he went to the front door to investigate he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They'd been caught in the storm and, in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large landscape window.
Well, he couldn't let the poor creatures lie there and freeze, so he remembered the barn where his children stabled their pony. That would provide a warm shelter, if he could direct the birds to it. Quickly he put on a coat, galoshes, tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light, but the birds did not come in. He figured food would entice them in. So he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, sprinkled them on the snow, making a trail to the yellow-lighted wide open doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the bread crumbs, and continued to flap around helplessly in the snow. He tried catching them. He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them waving his arms. Instead, they scattered in every direction, except into the warm, lighted barn.
And then, he realized, that they were afraid of him. To them, he reasoned, I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me. That I am not trying to hurt them, but to help them. But how? Because any move he made tended to frighten them, confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed because they feared him. "If only I could be a bird," he thought to himself, "and mingle with them and speak their language. Then I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to safety ... to the safe warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see, and hear and understand."
At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind. And he stood there listening to the bells - Adeste Fidelis - listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas. And he sank to his knees in the snow.
-- Author Unknown --
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God .... The Word became flesh and dwelt among us ....” (John 1:1, 14 KJV)
Now the man to whom I'm going to introduce you was not a scrooge, he was a kind, decent, mostly good man. Generous to his family, upright in his dealings with other men. But he just didn't believe all that incarnation stuff which the churches proclaim at Christmas Time. It just didn't make sense and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just couldn't swallow the Jesus Story, about God coming to Earth as a man. "I'm truly sorry to distress you," he told his wife, "but I'm not going with you to church this Christmas Eve." He said he'd feel like a hypocrite. That he'd much rather just stay at home, but that he would wait up for them. And so he stayed and they went to the midnight service.
Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier and then went back to his fireside chair and began to read his newspaper. Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound. Then another, and then another. Sort of a thump or a thud. At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against his living room window. But when he went to the front door to investigate he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They'd been caught in the storm and, in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large landscape window.
Well, he couldn't let the poor creatures lie there and freeze, so he remembered the barn where his children stabled their pony. That would provide a warm shelter, if he could direct the birds to it. Quickly he put on a coat, galoshes, tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light, but the birds did not come in. He figured food would entice them in. So he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, sprinkled them on the snow, making a trail to the yellow-lighted wide open doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the bread crumbs, and continued to flap around helplessly in the snow. He tried catching them. He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them waving his arms. Instead, they scattered in every direction, except into the warm, lighted barn.
And then, he realized, that they were afraid of him. To them, he reasoned, I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me. That I am not trying to hurt them, but to help them. But how? Because any move he made tended to frighten them, confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed because they feared him. "If only I could be a bird," he thought to himself, "and mingle with them and speak their language. Then I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to safety ... to the safe warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see, and hear and understand."
At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind. And he stood there listening to the bells - Adeste Fidelis - listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas. And he sank to his knees in the snow.
-- Author Unknown --
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God .... The Word became flesh and dwelt among us ....” (John 1:1, 14 KJV)
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Your life – the best scripture – Denis Lalfela
Several years ago, a preacher from Florida accepted a call to a church in Houston, Texas. Three weeks after he arrived, he had an occasion to ride the bus from his home to the downtown area. When he sat down, he discovered that the driver had accidentally given him a quarter too much change. As he considered what to do, he thought to him, ‘ You’d better give the quarter back. It would be wrong to keep it.’ Then he thought, ‘Oh, forget it, it’s only a quarter. Who would worry about this little amount? Anyway, the bus company gets too much fare; they will never miss it.
Accept it as a ‘gift from God and keep quiet.’ When his stop came, he several years ago, a preacher from Florida accepted a call to a church in Houston, Texas. Three weeks after he arrived, he had an occasion to ride the bus from his home to the downtown area. When he sat down, he discovered that the driver had accidentally given him a quarter too much change. As he considered what to do, he thought to him, ‘ You’d better give the quarter back. It would be wrong to keep it.’ Then he thought, ‘Oh, forget it, it’s only a quarter. Who would worry about this little amount? Anyway, the bus company gets too much fare; they will never miss it. Accept it as a ‘gift from God and keep quiet.’ When his stop came, he paused momentarily at the door, and then he handed the quarter to the driver and said, ‘Here, you gave me extra change.’ The driver, with a smile, replied, ‘aren’t you the new preacher in town?’ ‘Yes’ he replied. ‘Well, I have been thinking a lot lately about going somewhere to worship. I just wanted to see what you would do if I gave you too much change. I’ll see you at church on Sunday.’ When the preacher stepped off the bus, he literally grabbed the nearest light pole, held on, and said, ‘Oh God, I almost sold your Son for a quarter.’
Our lives are the only Scriptures some people will ever read.
Several years ago, a preacher from Florida accepted a call to a church in Houston, Texas. Three weeks after he arrived, he had an occasion to ride the bus from his home to the downtown area. When he sat down, he discovered that the driver had accidentally given him a quarter too much change. As he considered what to do, he thought to him, ‘ You’d better give the quarter back. It would be wrong to keep it.’ Then he thought, ‘Oh, forget it, it’s only a quarter. Who would worry about this little amount? Anyway, the bus company gets too much fare; they will never miss it.
Accept it as a ‘gift from God and keep quiet.’ When his stop came, he several years ago, a preacher from Florida accepted a call to a church in Houston, Texas. Three weeks after he arrived, he had an occasion to ride the bus from his home to the downtown area. When he sat down, he discovered that the driver had accidentally given him a quarter too much change. As he considered what to do, he thought to him, ‘ You’d better give the quarter back. It would be wrong to keep it.’ Then he thought, ‘Oh, forget it, it’s only a quarter. Who would worry about this little amount? Anyway, the bus company gets too much fare; they will never miss it. Accept it as a ‘gift from God and keep quiet.’ When his stop came, he paused momentarily at the door, and then he handed the quarter to the driver and said, ‘Here, you gave me extra change.’ The driver, with a smile, replied, ‘aren’t you the new preacher in town?’ ‘Yes’ he replied. ‘Well, I have been thinking a lot lately about going somewhere to worship. I just wanted to see what you would do if I gave you too much change. I’ll see you at church on Sunday.’ When the preacher stepped off the bus, he literally grabbed the nearest light pole, held on, and said, ‘Oh God, I almost sold your Son for a quarter.’
Our lives are the only Scriptures some people will ever read.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Hi all. I wanted to share with you what has changed my life forever.
It all started April 29, 2009 when my mother was diagnosed with "Terminal Sarcoma Cancer." We were sitting there waiting for the test results. Mother kept saying "I am fine Karinne". She was fine until the results were read.
Finally leaving the the Dr.'s office Mama was so upset she didn't speak the whole ride home.
May 2009 rolls around and Mama was so so very sick. She was in and out of the hospital due to chemo and radiation. Seemed like every time she went she would stay in bed after the treatments. She became very, very weak . . .
I would go to Mom's house and ask her did she need me to do anything and she would say, "No, Baby," and go back to sleep. My mother was by far my best friend. We gossiped and did everything together.
Now this is where GOD comes into the picture. In May, 2009, in and out of the hospital and seeing my mother go through what she did I was so very angry with our LORD! Little did I know at the time that she was one of the fortuanate ones that didn't have to suffer that long. Still angry, I would beg and bargain with the LORD. "Please don't take my Mama LORD - she is my heart!" Still, the pain and agony went on and on through June 2009. Until that day, June 26th (her birthday), she was in the hospital and looked at me and said, "Karinne, it's time to go home." I was thinking - Mama we can't go home you are so very sick. At this time she was getting very little oxygen and her left lung was full of fluids.
The family showed up at the hospital and we all spoke about leaving and taking MOM home; after all she wanted to go home!
We contacted Hospice and they got out there set up everything and we just waited for my mother to get home by ambulance. Once the ambulance showed up I remember saying to Mom, "You are home." As soon as I said that she went into a coma. I remember seeing her so happy and always the backbone of the family.
All the family stayed up with her knowing tomorrow she might not be here. All of a sudden I felt like I should get the Bible and read to Mom. I felt comfort through the words of Christ. I was still mad and angry and wanted to know why.
June 27, 2009 - Mama passes away at 6:02A.M. That early morning I knew Mom was having problems because we had the hospice handbook and it spoke of things that made it all visible that she was in the dying stages. I remember that morning before Mom died asking GOD, "If it is your WILL please cure my mother, and if not take her with you and stop the suffering. In Jesus name I pray AMEN." He listened and took her.
June 30, 2009 - the day of the funeral. We said our goodbyes to Mom and left the services. On the drive home I was looking out the window and just crying saying, "Mom why did you leave me?" then I heard something say, "Look up in the sky." It was a heart-shaped cloud. GOD had permitted my mother to tell me goodbye! In shock my husband told me to grab my camera and take a picture. I did and I now have it on my wall.
From that day I knew that there was a GOD and He does listen to prayers. At the time I didn't understand and always questioned him.
People, my point is - GOD LISTENS - He is there. We just need to LISTEN . . .
I am a baby Christian now and love to serve my GOD. The end is near; please be SAVED before it is eternally too late!
Also, love your parents, for you never know when they will be called home to serve our LORD!
God bless you all.
~KR
It all started April 29, 2009 when my mother was diagnosed with "Terminal Sarcoma Cancer." We were sitting there waiting for the test results. Mother kept saying "I am fine Karinne". She was fine until the results were read.
Finally leaving the the Dr.'s office Mama was so upset she didn't speak the whole ride home.
May 2009 rolls around and Mama was so so very sick. She was in and out of the hospital due to chemo and radiation. Seemed like every time she went she would stay in bed after the treatments. She became very, very weak . . .
I would go to Mom's house and ask her did she need me to do anything and she would say, "No, Baby," and go back to sleep. My mother was by far my best friend. We gossiped and did everything together.
Now this is where GOD comes into the picture. In May, 2009, in and out of the hospital and seeing my mother go through what she did I was so very angry with our LORD! Little did I know at the time that she was one of the fortuanate ones that didn't have to suffer that long. Still angry, I would beg and bargain with the LORD. "Please don't take my Mama LORD - she is my heart!" Still, the pain and agony went on and on through June 2009. Until that day, June 26th (her birthday), she was in the hospital and looked at me and said, "Karinne, it's time to go home." I was thinking - Mama we can't go home you are so very sick. At this time she was getting very little oxygen and her left lung was full of fluids.
The family showed up at the hospital and we all spoke about leaving and taking MOM home; after all she wanted to go home!
We contacted Hospice and they got out there set up everything and we just waited for my mother to get home by ambulance. Once the ambulance showed up I remember saying to Mom, "You are home." As soon as I said that she went into a coma. I remember seeing her so happy and always the backbone of the family.
All the family stayed up with her knowing tomorrow she might not be here. All of a sudden I felt like I should get the Bible and read to Mom. I felt comfort through the words of Christ. I was still mad and angry and wanted to know why.
June 27, 2009 - Mama passes away at 6:02A.M. That early morning I knew Mom was having problems because we had the hospice handbook and it spoke of things that made it all visible that she was in the dying stages. I remember that morning before Mom died asking GOD, "If it is your WILL please cure my mother, and if not take her with you and stop the suffering. In Jesus name I pray AMEN." He listened and took her.
June 30, 2009 - the day of the funeral. We said our goodbyes to Mom and left the services. On the drive home I was looking out the window and just crying saying, "Mom why did you leave me?" then I heard something say, "Look up in the sky." It was a heart-shaped cloud. GOD had permitted my mother to tell me goodbye! In shock my husband told me to grab my camera and take a picture. I did and I now have it on my wall.
From that day I knew that there was a GOD and He does listen to prayers. At the time I didn't understand and always questioned him.
People, my point is - GOD LISTENS - He is there. We just need to LISTEN . . .
I am a baby Christian now and love to serve my GOD. The end is near; please be SAVED before it is eternally too late!
Also, love your parents, for you never know when they will be called home to serve our LORD!
God bless you all.
~KR
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