A Teenager's View of Heaven -
Subject: [ccpga] FW: A TEENAGER'S VIEW OF HEAVEN. PLEASE
Our friend, Peter Tram sent this to me, and I thought I would share this with all of you. He received it from a friend via e-mail.
TEENAGER'S VIEW OF HEAVEN
Brian Moore had only a
short time to write something for a class. The subject
was what Heaven was like. 'I wowed 'em,' he later told
his father, Bruce. 'It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's
the best thing I ever wrote..' It also was the last.
Moore died on May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving
home from a friend's house when his car went off
Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a
utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but
stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.
Moore 's framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it
among the family portraits in the living room. 'I think
God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to
find it and make something out of it,' Mrs. Moore said
of the essay. She and her husband want to share their
son's vision of life after death. 'I'm happy for Brian.
I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him.'
that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found
myself in the room. There were no distinguishing
features except for the one wall covered with small
index card files. They
were like the ones in libraries that list titles by
author or subject in alphabetical order. But these
files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and
seemingly endless in either direction, had very
different headings. 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.
lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog
system for my life. Here were written the actions of my
every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory
couldn't match. 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 sweet memories; others a sense of shame and
regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to
see if anyone was watching.
file named 'Friends' was next to one marked 'Friends I
have betrayed.' The titles ranged from the mundane to
the outright weird 'Books I Have Read,' 'Lies I Have
Told,' 'Comfort I Have Given,' 'Jokes I Have 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 My Anger', 'Things I
Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.' I never
ceased to be surprised by the contents.
there were many more cards than I expected.. Sometimes
fewer than I 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 with my signature.
I pulled out the file marked 'TV Shows I have watched',
I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The
cards were packed tight, and yet after two or three
yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it,
shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by
the vast time I knew that file represented.
I came to a file marked 'Lustful Thoughts,' I felt a
chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an
inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card.
I shuddered at its detailed content.
felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated
my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must
ever see this room! I have to destroy them!' In insane
frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter
now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took
it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, 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.
and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot.
Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long,
then I saw it. The title bore 'People I Have Shared the
Gospel With.' The handle was brighter than those around
it, seemed newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle
and a small box not more than three inches long fell
into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on
then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs
so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and
shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried
out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The
rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. 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
please not Him. Not here. 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 a sorrow deeper than my own.
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. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I
dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began
to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me.
He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a
word. He just cried with me.
He got up and walked back to the wall of 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. 'No!' I shouted rushing to Him... All I could find
to say was 'No, no,' as I pulled the card from Him. His
name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was,
written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of
Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He
gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and
began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever
understand how He did it so quickly, but the next
instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and
walk back to my side.
placed His hand on my shoulder and said, 'It is
finished.' I stood up, and He led me out of the room.
There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to
can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.
'-Phil. 4:13 'For God so loved the world, that he gave
His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.' John 3:16
If you feel the same way forward it so the love of Jesus
will touch their lives also. My 'People I shared the
gospel with' file just got bigger, how about yours?
THERE IS ONE EMAIL THAT I HAVE READ THAT NEEDS TO GO
AROUND THE WORLD, IT IS THIS ONE, FOR THE CHRISTIAN OR
NOT! MAY GOD BLESS YOU ALL!
Creation date: Nov 13, 2008 12:11pm Last modified date: Nov 13, 2008 12:13pm Last visit date: Nov 22, 2022 12:31pm