I posted a while back. I could tell you about myself but I wrote a story and if you read this story and if you get it you will understand me. Jesus often spoke in parables. This is mine. I wonder how many of you will figure out what this parable means and how many will get it wrong. Note I have found God and as much as I would love to say that my faith is unwavering; I struggle and part of the reason I struggle not only with faith but with sin is connected to my story. I hope this doesn't get deleted as I know that other people who will read this and instantly get.
My Story
I am a warrior, and my enemies are ruthless and relentless. Yet, these enemies are not of the physical world. They are demons, each one bearing a name. Each was born either by my own hand or by the hands of others. They are named Fear, Anger, Anxiety, Stress, Hate, Lust, Envy, Jealousy, Hopelessness, Loneliness, and many more.
Alone in the dark, they surround me and attack. They scratch, bite, cut, and beat me. I swing my sword, trying desperately to keep them at bay. I scream so loud that the universe trembles, yet no one hears my pleas for help. I cry out into the darkness, begging for just a moment of peace, for someone to save me from these demons.
One demon hisses, "You are weak and pathetic." Another sneers, "There is no help for you. No one cares about you." Exhausted, I fall to my knees, crying, wondering why I deserve this torment. "Because you're worthless," one demon jeers. Another mocks, "Look at you, sobbing and afraid. Pick up your sword and fight back! Curse us and call us horrible things!" But another retorts, "He cannot, for he is too afraid and weak."
With trembling hands, I grab my sword and scream, launching an attack to push the demons back. Then, one demon steps forward—bigger and stronger than all the others. He is called Despair, fed over the course of my life by the other demons, making him the ruler of them all. He stands before me, the tip of my sword at his chest. He looks me in the eyes and says, "Kill yourself. End this fight and find peace."
I turn my sword towards me as I tremble, tears streaming down my face. The whole time, Despair laughs at me. "Do it! Finish your worthless life. You don't deserve it. No one loves you. How could anyone love such a wretched thing?" He leans in close, his breath reeking of death. There is no compassion or mercy in his eyes. "It's wrong that the universe allows so many to die but lets a pathetic worm like you exist. You are a mistake in the universe. Just kill yourself."
In agony, I scream and thrust the sword into my chest. But as I do, the sword vanishes, and it falls to the ground. Despair retreats into the crowd, laughing, and as he disappears, he says, "Not yet, my pathetic little friend. Our fun is just beginning."
The demons surround me once again. I collapse to the ground, bury my head between my knees, and cry out, "Do what you will to me. I don't care anymore."
My Story
I am a warrior, and my enemies are ruthless and relentless. Yet, these enemies are not of the physical world. They are demons, each one bearing a name. Each was born either by my own hand or by the hands of others. They are named Fear, Anger, Anxiety, Stress, Hate, Lust, Envy, Jealousy, Hopelessness, Loneliness, and many more.
Alone in the dark, they surround me and attack. They scratch, bite, cut, and beat me. I swing my sword, trying desperately to keep them at bay. I scream so loud that the universe trembles, yet no one hears my pleas for help. I cry out into the darkness, begging for just a moment of peace, for someone to save me from these demons.
One demon hisses, "You are weak and pathetic." Another sneers, "There is no help for you. No one cares about you." Exhausted, I fall to my knees, crying, wondering why I deserve this torment. "Because you're worthless," one demon jeers. Another mocks, "Look at you, sobbing and afraid. Pick up your sword and fight back! Curse us and call us horrible things!" But another retorts, "He cannot, for he is too afraid and weak."
With trembling hands, I grab my sword and scream, launching an attack to push the demons back. Then, one demon steps forward—bigger and stronger than all the others. He is called Despair, fed over the course of my life by the other demons, making him the ruler of them all. He stands before me, the tip of my sword at his chest. He looks me in the eyes and says, "Kill yourself. End this fight and find peace."
I turn my sword towards me as I tremble, tears streaming down my face. The whole time, Despair laughs at me. "Do it! Finish your worthless life. You don't deserve it. No one loves you. How could anyone love such a wretched thing?" He leans in close, his breath reeking of death. There is no compassion or mercy in his eyes. "It's wrong that the universe allows so many to die but lets a pathetic worm like you exist. You are a mistake in the universe. Just kill yourself."
In agony, I scream and thrust the sword into my chest. But as I do, the sword vanishes, and it falls to the ground. Despair retreats into the crowd, laughing, and as he disappears, he says, "Not yet, my pathetic little friend. Our fun is just beginning."
The demons surround me once again. I collapse to the ground, bury my head between my knees, and cry out, "Do what you will to me. I don't care anymore."