I Lost It: Prelude
I was not going to the riverside to chill or pray, not today. So I came prepared with a matchbox, loose change to purchase weed from any of the smokers, two PK gums, and a matchbox. Nothing could be further from the truth; I knew exactly what I was going to do there. The first person I approached had none, did not even know what weed was, I guess. Seeing nobody there, I sat down to listen to the waves by the riverside. The next sight that caught my eye was Chris*. He rolled to the spot where I usually sat down to pray. Though I could not see him from afar, I concluded that he must have been the visitor who left traces of cigarette packs. I timed him, waited for him to settle and light up his weed. Then I walked over. “Hey vipi?” a distance away, I engaged him in a conversation about where I could purchase some weed; I knew I wanted it from him if he had some. I was willing to pay any price. Then, he passes me a joint willingly and I pick it up. I smoke it hungrily and three years of sobriety; I cast away with every puff. Even as I passed it over to him, I wanted to smoke it all, but I did not want to seem needy.
So we talk, I get to know he is Chris*, he is unsure about his directions while high, he does not know which side is uphill or which side is downhill, he could not hold a conversation nor explain to me clearly where I could purchase my own. On a closer look, he was a good guy, he was friendly, on the other hand, I saw the devil in him, I looked at him and saw how the devil in him could drag me away as a friend. In my position, I did not trust anyone, with every smoke, I felt myself become loose. We were talking and now I was alert on where the conversation was heading, I was not even sure of what I was saying. So many thoughts were crossing through my mind, I felt unsure about myself, he could turn into a close friend, a buddy, but I could take him down the depths of stray too. All the things I did while high on weed crossed my mind, I was more dangerous to Chris* than he was to me, the perversion in me could spread no further. I had to leave I exclaimed, I gotta go. "Ain’t we going to purchase some weed? he asked. "No, sorry some other day." "I hope we bump into each other sometimes," I say as I walk away, thinking of taking his number but desiring it was under better circumstances. I walk away because one, all I have known for the past three and a half years is to give a testimony, and there I was going to tell him my life story and why everything I was doing was wrong in the worst possible sense. I was going to preach to him about salvation. No, I could not do it.
And if we could not talk about that it was going to be about sin and more sin and being unsure of my standing, I left. As I walk away, guilt was bursting through my heart, soul, and mind. I knew I had come to satisfy the craving to which I had been tempted towards for over a year. I felt within me a battle ground. On one end, the devil was using my guilt to spread out fear, “What have you done? You are worthless, Your fate is sealed, What if walking by the road I throw you to an oncoming car? What if you fall dead just now? You have insulted Father, You have it coming to you? On the other end was the truth, “I was patiently giving you a role to keep you busy, it was unfolding progressively, why could you not be patient?” “Here is what I wanted to handover to you and bit by bit I connect the dots.” True, it was unfolding, I just was not patient enough to see it, I was expecting to be told this is what I give you to keep you busy, but He was doing it silently. Then the guilt started creeping in and I saw how unworthy I was to be called a son of the Most High God. I was not fit for it, and the devil was pressing the guilt even more. Then I stick my neck out and I say, I am going to walk home straight ahead, and I am going to look deeply into this hobby the Lord was giving me to keep me busy.
All through as I walk, I can only think to myself, I want to go write a series of repentance articles like David wrote, this is going to be my portion, this is what I will go do until my death. I will write articles of sorrow to my Lord, I will go before Him broken each day, for I have nothing good to do. I walk confidently, but even a small kid can see all is not well, as this kid looks at me when I pass by the shop to purchase milk. We exchanged looks and I see him seeing me for what I really am, a drunk. I walk away from the shop but ahead of me is a mother who respects me, always greeting me with her two hands. To her, I am an uncle and Pastor to her children, the father who has always been missing. She treats me respectfully, and I try to instill virtues, knowledge, and wisdom into her sons. She is not alone, all the women, most of them single mothers call me uncle for how I relate to their children, taking them to church, teaching them all about computers and rebuking them when together. I see her, and I cringe, I want to turn back, this cannot be, I want to go sit somewhere and wait for her to enter her home, but I cannot. I decide to walk on, I find her standing in the middle of the junction to my place and I had to greet her. She is drunk, I can see (Many always knew her as the village drunk, but I often see a single mother who is overcome by a devil beyond her control).
I look at her in the eye and she looks back at me, and for the first time, I see myself in her. I am the drunk and I am worse off than her. I cannot hold a conversation for I am in a hurry. I despise myself even as I walk to my house. I meet my kid friends and I avoid contact, am all smiles and I talk less and play less, which is unlike me. Upon reaching the house, I sit down, take my laptop and I sit down to write, I say, I want to see what this task the Lord is giving me looks like, what he intends to keep me busy and to always think about Him. I had loved whatever it was for I had done it awhile, but now, I had a renewed focus. Driven by a desire for something to keep my mind off the desire for porn, weed and lustful cravings, I begin writing. The devil comes across and speaks to me, this is my child, I am the cause of this, I reply, Father gave it to me even before you were here.
As I start writing this article, I realize one thing; I cannot hide from the Lord, He saw me, He sees me, He will still see me. I decide to begin with these words:
Memoirs of a Stray Heart
(Trembling about what may unfold when I mention the name of Jesus I write).
So many thoughts have crossed my mind as I sit down to write this. But I focus on one, Heavenly Father; grant me the wisdom and strength to write this article. I pray in the name of Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.
I have asked for a hobby, something to keep my mind off porn or promiscuity. Progressively you have chosen to give it to me even without me realizing it. You have brought this to me at a time when I needed it the most. In writing these sets of articles, you have shown me what I can do with my time to the praise of your Name. I ask because I feel trapped, a prisoner in a cage, but I come to you otherwise wishing that I may speak to you. I am at the front of the monitor each day, each night, wherever I walk I see more monitors with advertisements. I have struggled with this sin for quite some time, and I feel it is time it has to go. I have asked for what I can do with the time and the Lord has finally answered my prayer. I feel joy in my heart for His gracious gift. Yet, I feel sorrow for I have also stumbled upon a bigger sin. But I find motivation nonetheless because I feel confident that what you began in me you will carry out to completion. You called me to the Praise of your Name and that your power may be known all over the globe.
I feel the victory for My Christ has borne the burden of my sins at the cross. Father knows that in him was the wrath of God Satisfied. And He has chosen to impart on sinners knowledge of His will. For He Wishes that all may come to Him for He says He finds no pleasure in the death of a soul. And being the greatest desire of His that He may give each one a way to spread the Message of Reconciliation, He chosen the things that were not to shame the wise. To Him be All Praise and Glory forever and Ever.
I am among the wise whom He has chosen to shame. For I am writing the article knowing that He will use it as a tool to the Glory of His name and His word. As I record the piece I follow on articles from my Facebook account that I used to show my progression to the point that I have reached. I was in the process of repenting out my sins when I sat down to write those posts. Whereas they may have looked like stories I was using to pick your minds, they were actually my life story. I am courageous as I write the letter, for I know my Father will use it to the Glory if His name. In that confidence I continue for I looked often to what I could hold on to.
So we talk, I get to know he is Chris*, he is unsure about his directions while high, he does not know which side is uphill or which side is downhill, he could not hold a conversation nor explain to me clearly where I could purchase my own. On a closer look, he was a good guy, he was friendly, on the other hand, I saw the devil in him, I looked at him and saw how the devil in him could drag me away as a friend. In my position, I did not trust anyone, with every smoke, I felt myself become loose. We were talking and now I was alert on where the conversation was heading, I was not even sure of what I was saying. So many thoughts were crossing through my mind, I felt unsure about myself, he could turn into a close friend, a buddy, but I could take him down the depths of stray too. All the things I did while high on weed crossed my mind, I was more dangerous to Chris* than he was to me, the perversion in me could spread no further. I had to leave I exclaimed, I gotta go. "Ain’t we going to purchase some weed? he asked. "No, sorry some other day." "I hope we bump into each other sometimes," I say as I walk away, thinking of taking his number but desiring it was under better circumstances. I walk away because one, all I have known for the past three and a half years is to give a testimony, and there I was going to tell him my life story and why everything I was doing was wrong in the worst possible sense. I was going to preach to him about salvation. No, I could not do it.
And if we could not talk about that it was going to be about sin and more sin and being unsure of my standing, I left. As I walk away, guilt was bursting through my heart, soul, and mind. I knew I had come to satisfy the craving to which I had been tempted towards for over a year. I felt within me a battle ground. On one end, the devil was using my guilt to spread out fear, “What have you done? You are worthless, Your fate is sealed, What if walking by the road I throw you to an oncoming car? What if you fall dead just now? You have insulted Father, You have it coming to you? On the other end was the truth, “I was patiently giving you a role to keep you busy, it was unfolding progressively, why could you not be patient?” “Here is what I wanted to handover to you and bit by bit I connect the dots.” True, it was unfolding, I just was not patient enough to see it, I was expecting to be told this is what I give you to keep you busy, but He was doing it silently. Then the guilt started creeping in and I saw how unworthy I was to be called a son of the Most High God. I was not fit for it, and the devil was pressing the guilt even more. Then I stick my neck out and I say, I am going to walk home straight ahead, and I am going to look deeply into this hobby the Lord was giving me to keep me busy.
All through as I walk, I can only think to myself, I want to go write a series of repentance articles like David wrote, this is going to be my portion, this is what I will go do until my death. I will write articles of sorrow to my Lord, I will go before Him broken each day, for I have nothing good to do. I walk confidently, but even a small kid can see all is not well, as this kid looks at me when I pass by the shop to purchase milk. We exchanged looks and I see him seeing me for what I really am, a drunk. I walk away from the shop but ahead of me is a mother who respects me, always greeting me with her two hands. To her, I am an uncle and Pastor to her children, the father who has always been missing. She treats me respectfully, and I try to instill virtues, knowledge, and wisdom into her sons. She is not alone, all the women, most of them single mothers call me uncle for how I relate to their children, taking them to church, teaching them all about computers and rebuking them when together. I see her, and I cringe, I want to turn back, this cannot be, I want to go sit somewhere and wait for her to enter her home, but I cannot. I decide to walk on, I find her standing in the middle of the junction to my place and I had to greet her. She is drunk, I can see (Many always knew her as the village drunk, but I often see a single mother who is overcome by a devil beyond her control).
I look at her in the eye and she looks back at me, and for the first time, I see myself in her. I am the drunk and I am worse off than her. I cannot hold a conversation for I am in a hurry. I despise myself even as I walk to my house. I meet my kid friends and I avoid contact, am all smiles and I talk less and play less, which is unlike me. Upon reaching the house, I sit down, take my laptop and I sit down to write, I say, I want to see what this task the Lord is giving me looks like, what he intends to keep me busy and to always think about Him. I had loved whatever it was for I had done it awhile, but now, I had a renewed focus. Driven by a desire for something to keep my mind off the desire for porn, weed and lustful cravings, I begin writing. The devil comes across and speaks to me, this is my child, I am the cause of this, I reply, Father gave it to me even before you were here.
As I start writing this article, I realize one thing; I cannot hide from the Lord, He saw me, He sees me, He will still see me. I decide to begin with these words:
Memoirs of a Stray Heart
(Trembling about what may unfold when I mention the name of Jesus I write).
So many thoughts have crossed my mind as I sit down to write this. But I focus on one, Heavenly Father; grant me the wisdom and strength to write this article. I pray in the name of Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.
I have asked for a hobby, something to keep my mind off porn or promiscuity. Progressively you have chosen to give it to me even without me realizing it. You have brought this to me at a time when I needed it the most. In writing these sets of articles, you have shown me what I can do with my time to the praise of your Name. I ask because I feel trapped, a prisoner in a cage, but I come to you otherwise wishing that I may speak to you. I am at the front of the monitor each day, each night, wherever I walk I see more monitors with advertisements. I have struggled with this sin for quite some time, and I feel it is time it has to go. I have asked for what I can do with the time and the Lord has finally answered my prayer. I feel joy in my heart for His gracious gift. Yet, I feel sorrow for I have also stumbled upon a bigger sin. But I find motivation nonetheless because I feel confident that what you began in me you will carry out to completion. You called me to the Praise of your Name and that your power may be known all over the globe.
I feel the victory for My Christ has borne the burden of my sins at the cross. Father knows that in him was the wrath of God Satisfied. And He has chosen to impart on sinners knowledge of His will. For He Wishes that all may come to Him for He says He finds no pleasure in the death of a soul. And being the greatest desire of His that He may give each one a way to spread the Message of Reconciliation, He chosen the things that were not to shame the wise. To Him be All Praise and Glory forever and Ever.
I am among the wise whom He has chosen to shame. For I am writing the article knowing that He will use it as a tool to the Glory of His name and His word. As I record the piece I follow on articles from my Facebook account that I used to show my progression to the point that I have reached. I was in the process of repenting out my sins when I sat down to write those posts. Whereas they may have looked like stories I was using to pick your minds, they were actually my life story. I am courageous as I write the letter, for I know my Father will use it to the Glory if His name. In that confidence I continue for I looked often to what I could hold on to.
Comments
Post a Comment