The Room

The Room

The following REALLY blessed my life and of course gave me great cause to really think about my life and what Jesus has done for me. I am praying that it blesses your life also. It was written by speaker and author Joshua Harris and is in his book, “I Kissed Dating Goodbye”. He says it was something he put on paper in Puerto Rico for the 1995 Billy Graham Crusade and it was published in Graham’s magazine the same year. As you read I pray as Joshua Harris does, that you will hear the message in the story.

“In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in the libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files stretched from floor to ceiling and seemed endless. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read, “Girls I have liked”. I opened it and began flipping through the 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 the actions of my every moment, big and small. 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 others a sense of shame. I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. One file was “Friends” and another was “Friends I have betrayed.” Then came “Books I have Read”, “Lies I have told”, “Comfort I have given”, “Jokes I 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 Anger”, “Things I have muttered under my breath at my parents”. Often there were many more cards than I had expected. Sometimes fewer than I had 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 years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed by my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked “TV shows I have watched”, the cards were packed tightly. Yet, after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed by the vast time I knew the file represented. No one much ever see these cards! I have to destroy them. In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. The size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But 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. I was defeated and utterly helpless, and then I saw it. The title was “People I have Shared the Gospel With”.

The handle was almost unused. I pulled out a small box not more than 3 inches long. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then, the tears came. Sobs were so deep that they hurt. I fell on my knees and cried out of shame. 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. 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 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. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said many things. But, He didn’t say a word. Hey he got up and walked back to the 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. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, and so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. Then I remembered the true meaning of salvation. He was wounded for my transgressions.”

Thanks to Boyce Mouton, Carl Junction, MO for printing this in his church newsletter.