I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale, this is my life.Thursday, January 18, 2007
share with you guys a story...
There was this room.
In this room, there was a shelf.
The shelf was filled with lots and lots of files.
Every file had a heading.
There were many many different headings.
Inside every file, there were cards.
The first file that caught my eye was "Boys that I have liked".
I open it and I realised that I recgonise every single name inside that book.
I quickly shut it and placed it back on the shelf.
Then I realise what is the room all about.
It was a catalog system of my life.
Every single detail was written in the book.
Be it big or small. It was all written.
I began to randomly pick files and explore its contents.
Some of it brought joy yet some brought shame and regret that
I did not want anyone to see it.
The headings ranged from mundane to outright weird
"Books I have read"
"Lies I have told"
"Comfort I have given"
"Jokes I laughed at"
Some headings that i was ashamed of
"Things I have done in anger"
"Things I have muttered under my breath at my parents"
and the headings go on and on.
some of the files i wish had more cards..
while others i wished it had fewer.
There was a file that wrote "lustful thoughts"
i looked at the cards and shuddered at its detailed contents and
i felt sick that these moments were recorded.
Every single card was signed by myself.
Every card was recorded by y own hand writing.
It was my deeds.
Then a thought dominated my mind.
No one must ever see these cards.!
No one must ever find this room!
I must destroy the contents.
I became desperate trying to pull out the cards.
to tear out its contents only to realised,
it was no use.
I was defeated and utterly helpless.
Then I saw the file "People I have shared the gospel with"
It looked so new, almost unused.
I could count the cards so easily that
it seems as if it was the thinnest file on the shelf.
I began to weep.
I cried out of shame, out of pain, out of regret.
I wanted to lock up the room and throw the key away.
As I wiped away my tears, I saw Him.
No, please. not Him. not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.
I watched helplessly as He opened every file and read the cards.
I couldn't bear to see His response.
I saw the sorrow deeper than my own on His face.
He read every single card that could be found.
Finally, He turned and looked at me from across the room.
I covered my face and began to cry again.
He walked over and placed His arm around me.
He could have said so many things.
But He did not say a word.
He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the shelf.
Starting from one end of the room.
He took out a file.
One by one, He began to sign His name over mine on every single card.
No! I shouted to Him.
His name shouldn't be on these cards.
These were the shameful deeds that I have done.
Yet His name was so rich, so dark, so alive on every card.
The name of Jesus covered mine.
It was written with His blood.
He closed the last file and placed His hand over my shoulder.
"It is finish" and He led me out of the room.
There was no lock to this room.
There were still cards to be written.
The truth is that
God chose to die on the cross for you and I.
He could have easily said
"no, i'm not gonna do it. let them perish on their own".
but He did not.
OUT OF LOVE.
HE SPREAD HIS ARMS ON THE CROSS.
OUT OF LOVE.
HE CHOSE TO DIE FOR US.
OUT OF LOVE.
HE GAVE HIS LIFE.
SO THAT WE WILL RECONCILE WITH HIM.
OUT OF LOVE.
HE PAID THE RANSOM.
OUT OF LOVE.
HE IS ASKING US.
WILL YOU ACCEPT ME INTO YOUR LIFE?