In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in a room filled with small files, which seemed to go on forever. The first file to catch my attention read "Boys I Have Liked." I quickly shut the file, shocked to realize that I knew these boys. And then, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room was a card catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of every single moment.
I began randomly opening files and exploring their contents. 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. The files ranged from "Friends", to "Friends I Have Betrayed." "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Things I Have Mutter Under My Breath." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. It didn't seem possible that I could have written all of these cards, but each card was in my own handwriting, and each signed with my signature.
When I came to one marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, and shuddered at it's detailed content. Rage exploded within me. NO ONE MUST EVER SEE THESE CARDS! I HAVE TO DESTROY THEM! In an insane frenzy, I yanked the file out and began pounding it on the floor, but I couldn't dislodge a single card. I tried to tear a single card, only to find that it was as hard as steel. Defeated and helpless, I let out a long sigh, and then I saw it. The title read "People with Whom I Have Shared The Gospel." The handle was brighter than those around it. Newer, Almost unused. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
I fell to my knees and cried out of shame--the overwhelming shame of it all. But as I pushed away the tears I saw Him. No! NOT HERE. ANYONE BUT JESUS. Why did he have to go through every one? He seemed intuitively to go to the worst boxes. I dropped my head and covered my face with my hands. 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. He got up and went back to the first file and began signing his name over mine. "No!" I shouted. I grabbed the card from him and 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 and continued signing. I don't know 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 the door. There were still cards to be written
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