God got on His knees

Bob Hamp

She hated herself, almost as much as she hated him. She had not always been the hating type. She had once been gentle and kind, but life had not been gentle and kind to her. Today, she hated that she had followed one more time. She had followed her fear, instead of her heart, and she had followed this man into this room, because of another set of empty promises, and smooth words. But all the kindness went away as soon as she had consented.

Once he had heard her “Yes” he looked at her differently. Suddenly his touch was not so much about her, as it was about him. He became rough with her as he led her into the back room. Moments ago, he had seemed so attentive, and almost thoughtful. It had all shifted when she nodded her head to his proposition. It was clear that when their encounter ended she would never see him again. That’s not what his words said earlier, but his actions and tone spoke louder than his words ever had.

He began roughly pulling at her clothing, and bodily moving her into a position of submission and weakness. She gave in, her heart breaking again into little pieces as she silently refused to stand up for herself. Her body and her heart were dying hundreds of tiny deaths, and she choked back everything that was true about herself. How had she ended up here again? But she knew the role she was supposed to play, and she gave in to the actress who had betrayed her before. This painfully familiar scene had played out before, and here she was again. Each act was familiar, and she knew her lines all too well.

The Bloody River

 

Before anything; know that you do not need the story of how a person was saved to realize that something has changed in his life. You absolutely do NOT need a testimony; ‘cause all you have to do is to open your eyes, and take a good look at him. The Bible says you will know a person by his fruits. A good tree cannot bear bad fruits and vice versa. And it won’t take anything to realize if a tree is good or bad  (if you believe the Bible that is…). That is the only way you’ll know if anything at all is really true.

This entry is long, grueling, beyond uncanny and painstakingly boring. You need not read all of this at all. But it’s there for my happiness and my closure on certain matters. It’s the very reason why this blog was created, the essence of it all; that someday I might go about and write what goes through my head. And it did take some time to get over it, but I did, and here it is: My thoughts in a thought...

In my most demented times, I wonder at the marvel; of how I was introduced to Christ. Not as just a goody do good person, but as a God; my God, as my savior, as my father, brother and friend… Though, the only thing that stood in my way was my foolhardy intellect. I faintly remember the first few stories I’ve heard about Him ‘back in the days’, those stories about a cool Dude walking on water, about those ‘Be still’ stories, and my! Water into wine! About Jonah and the fish, about David, Noah and the Ark. Stories that was fascinating to me as a child. I guess we all begin the same way; hear these as just ‘stories’ and around 20 years later (or way less), if you allow it, these stories will become a cherished history… Your history. Then it becomes all about the Kingdom you’ve just entered, all of its hosts applauding your entry; a Kingdom with a King who came to you disguised, who so dolefully gave away His precious life for your idiocy and paid the full price for your ingress; such and such in a huge calamitous divine collision. Know that He wants to incur an endearing beautiful exchange with you. All you’ve got to do is, for once; put away that intellect of yours, and open your hearts to believe. The rest is sure to follow.

The Perfect Hypocrite

hyp-o-crite /ˈhipəˌkrit/ :  If you don't walk the walk, it's probably best not to talk the talk.

The critical mind would be mystified by me, a fool when climacteric decisions are to be made. But, this isn’t about decisions or the fools; it’s about me or rather my own foolhardy world, a cocoon that I weaved for my own expiation. It’s a perfect synonymy, a harmonious embodiment. I expelled myself from the outside world, coercing myself to see with this new shade of color. And I saw bliss, I saw beauty, I saw contentment, an arcadian life, and I saw God. STOP! Because it wasn’t God I saw. Contrarily, I saw an illusion of him, an illusion I made up. For months I played around with this illusion. Talking with people, influencing them, and changing them; all through with my own private rustic world. And it was this dissemblance, this ‘lip service’ that brought many people to God, the real God. I hold my answers to them as true and legible; contemporary enough for the modern world (as I never held down any fast orthodox principles). And I was good at it, good at being an act. Acting all through, always, whenever I was with anyone, never showing my true self. And they believed, the nits!