The Startling Memories

Regrets are easily pushed aside by simply dwelling on something pleasant. But I have in mind a place where pleasant things are no more. In this place, even the memory of pleasant things has been evaporated. In the brilliance of this place, hope has become an Eternal arid desert.  

As I wake this morning, one or two of these regrets come to make a visit. The power of them is devastating.  

Accused! I am accused and have no recourse. I am accused and I am undone. Not only do I remember them, I am forced to admit my guilt.  

And I realize something more. Not only do I remember them, those to whom they were done remember them also. And the witnesses! I dare not forget the witnesses! The testimony against me is everywhere, waiting in silence. The entire world has been witness to my doings!

Then I realize something utterly astounding.

These are just two items in my soul. There are hundreds of thousands more I have forgotten. If these two can devastate my heart, how would I stand against the onslaught of things I have done?

But for the strength of the forgiveness of Christ, I am a walking dead man. Not only I. But every man who has ever lived. Our sins are a mold of guilt that covers our soul. It comes with us to the throne of God. Unseen for now, do we dare be dressed in the filthy things we have done as we stand before him to be Judged?

We need the strength of Christ. More than anything in this world, we need the strength of the forgiveness of Christ!   

Every day that goes by, in which we do not take note of this and respond, is another day that adds to the mold. All the while, the moment of our appearing before the Holy Lord God Almighty does not tarry. It stands in place, where it has always been, and will not be moved!

I don’t write this to scare anyone. The fear will come on it’s own. I write this to wake as many souls as I can. Go to Christ. Accept his mercy. While you can still voluntarily do so.  

Yes we have an option. Remain as you are and appear before God, naked and ashamed.  


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