Thanks DottieIn that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for 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. & grave;People I Have Liked.& acute; 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 love Yelled At My Brothers. thers 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 short life 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 came to 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 the hurt stated 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 drop y 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 form 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. Thank You
Tammy •••••••••••••••••••••••• This is a story about four people named Everybody, Somebody, Anybody, and Nobody. There was an important job to be done and Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it. Anybody could have done it, but Nobody did it. Somebody got angry about that because it was Everybody's job. Everybody thought Anybody could do it, but Nobody realized that Everybody wouldn't do it. It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done. ••••••••••••••••••••••••
Author Unknown And God Said "No" I asked God to take away my pride and God said, "No." He said it was not for Him to take away but for me to give up. I asked God to make my handicapped child whole, and God said, "No."
He said, "Her spirit is whole, her body is only temporary." I asked God to grant me patience, and God said, "No." He said that patience is a by-product of tribulation. It isn't granted, it's earned. I asked God to give me happiness, and God said "No." He said He gives blessings, happiness is up to me. I asked God to spare my pain, and God said "No."
He said, "Suffering draws you apart from wordly cares and brings you closer to me." I asked God to make my spirit grow, and God said "No." He said I must grow on my own, but He will prune me to make me fruitful. I asked God if He loved me, and God said, "Yes." He gave His only Son who died for me, and I will be in heaven someday because I believe. I asked God to help me love others as much as He loves me, and God said, "Ah, finally you have the idea."
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