

The Room – Story about what Jesus does with our Sins
In 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, 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 “People I Have Liked.” I opened it and began flipping 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 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 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 own signature.
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 3 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 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.
The beat of our hearts are in sync
The blood in our veins is our link
Always there to catch me when i fall
Someone who will love me through it all
When my heart needs mending you make the suture
We have the same past though we rule the future
Our love is eternal and there is no end
Your my brother, my sister, more than a friend
The smell of a rose though it may be sweet
Just like Love can knock you off your feet
Hidden behind the great beauty that it shows
Its thorns can hurt you but no one knows
Not until you are pricked will you feel the pain
Even though it hurts its beauty is the same
You try to reach it and that's when you start to bleed
Though it hurts you still try but you still cant succeed
Just like love is this rose that we want to attain
Will hurt you and make you bleed but we cant abstain.
Original Posted 3/12/2007 5:46 PM
My heart is not a toy and love is not a game
So stop trying to play me before i put your game to shame
You think you know all about me and that your drama is from me
But i'll have to teach you a lesson if you wont let me be
I'll tell everyone i your secrets that you cant cover up with lies
I'll tell your boys i broke up with you because you're into guys
I'll take back all I gave you and what you gave me is mine
Because when I'm without you i get by just fine
I'm through with all your whining and it is plain to see
That you will never make it now that you're not with me
Original written: November 18, 2006
LIFE CAN BE HARD AND THE ROAD MAY BE LONG,
BUT YOU CAN STILL MAKE IT IF YOU STAY STRONG.
THERES IS NO GIVING UP AND NO TURNING BACK,
IF YOU DONT TRY YOU'LL FAIL AND THATS A FACT.
NO CRYING OR WHINING CAN HELP YOU GET THROUGH IT,
IF YOU STAY STRONG THERE AINT NOTHING TO IT.
HEARTBROKEN AND IN PAIN WITH NOTHING TO LOSE,
YOU THINK YOU GOT IT BAD? GO WATCH THE NEWS.
IF YOU THINK YOURE THE ONLY ONE WITH A TOUGH LIFE,
THERE'S MORE PEOPLE GOING THROUGH PAIN AND STRIFE.
STOP FEELING SORRY FOR URSELF SAYING YOU DONT WANT TO LIVE,
REMEMBER GOD GAVE YOU YOUR LIFE AND HE HAS MORE TO GIVE.
NO REASON TO BE SELFISH AND TRY TO RUN AWAY,
TOMMORROW HOLDS A NEW BEGINING AND A NEW DAY.
SO PLEASE KEEP YOUR HEAD UP AND STAND UP TALL,
CUZ IF YOU DONT TRY YOU'LL GAIN NOTHING AT ALL.
original: February 02, 2007 1:37 PM