Father's Hands Logo

Follow Us On Facebook



The Files

   <bgsound src="titanic.mid" loop=infinite />
 

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

 

.





Send This Page to a Friend










Home; Fathers Hands, Inspirational Poems and Stories

  Subscribe To Be On The Weekly Mailing List For New Pages

Comments & Suggestions Write To Us Here




God Bless Mom Bear   Honor your father and mother--which is the first commandment with a promise-- Ephesians 6:2


Fathers Hands Home | Contact Customer Service
Privacy Policy
Inspirational Poems and Stories DeerLake Designs L L C Fathers Logo

Fathers Hands - Christian Site