42 Years!

1976, the year I made the most important decision in my life. No it wasn’t done to please anyone. I wasn’t forced into it. I didn’t go unwillingly. In fact truth be told, I did it for reasons at the time I didn’t understand.

1976, I was 16 years old. I was lost and confused. I didn’t have a girlfriend. I was too homely for a girl friend. I didn’t have a lot of friends at the time. I had a few but not as many as you would think. I was an awkward teenager. I was tall and gangling. I was the guy that girls avoided at the prom. “Eww no dancing with him! He’s ugly”

1976, I was invited to church by none other than my sister Nancy. Yes it’s her fault! I started to go and felt something like I had never felt before. Then I met the man that would become my best friend. He would be my best man at my first wedding. He would be the brother that I never had and the friend that was not afraid to smack me upside the head. He was the one that taught me how to play the guitar.

1976, the year that would send me on a collision course with the family that would become my second family.  I was proud to call them Mom and dad. He always seemed to accept it grudgingly but he would smile when I called him Dad.

1976, I came to know the greatest love that had ever lived. I found the one person who would love me for me, scars, warts and all. He willingly died for me. He did not cause he had to but because he wanted to..but..yes there is a but!

1976, I went though all the confirmation classes. I went through it all.  I even got baptized into the United Church of Canada but ya know something. I spoke the words but meant none of it. I said the words but knew I would never go through with them. Some say that it was wrong and it may have been that way but I think that If I had not done it then I would not have had my meeting with the Lord!

1976, So I went through the motions. I played the good Christian like a lot of people do from time to time. I played the roll well but I didn’t play it well enough. Jesus saw straight through me.

1976, Christmas Eve. The day that I let my defenses down. I had a conversation with the Lord. A very pointed conversation. I was convicted and convinced that I was not living the life He wanted me to live! Let me tell you about it.

I was 16 and it was Christmas eve. My mom and step dad had gone down to Niagara Falls and had brought me back this crucifix. So I hung it on my wall, facing my bed and there it hung. I didn’t think another thought about it. So Christmas Eve comes and I am sleeping. I wake up to see this bright light in my bedroom. Some dumb ass was shining his headlights into my room. I looked around and saw a light coming from behind the cross. I thought that was nice of my step dad to put a light behind it. So I went back to sleep.

The light persisted. I sat looking at it in my bed and then my eyes widened as I saw the head move. The head looked down at me and said “Do You Love Me?” I said “Yes Lord?” and the response I got was “Then why do you do the things that you do?”

“I don’t know.” was my only reply.

The response was something I was not expecting. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” was my response. I was shocked. I was a sinner. Even after taking Jesus as my own, I was still the same person I was before. I was still swearing and doing all the bad things that I did before.

I went back to sleep but the light persisted still. I looked at the Cross and the same words came to me. “Do you love Me?”.

“Yes.” I said.

“Then why do you do the things that you do?”

“I don’t know.” was my response.

I went back to sleep. The light persisted. I was getting annoyed. I opened my eyes and looked at the Cross.

“What do you want from me?”

“YOU!” was the response that I got.

I sat there. He wanted me. A broken individual that had no intention of doing the things that I had promised all those months ago. He didn’t want my money or anything else I had. All he wanted was me. I was dumbfounded. No one wanted me. I was a useless human being. I was a liar yet Jesus wanted me. I crumbled.

Christmas eve 1976, I took Jesus as my own and I even though I have fallen off the path and gone different ways into the wilderness, Jesus has always wooed me back to his righteousness.

It’s been 42 years that I have walked with God! I am not the perfect Christian. There is no such creature. Jesus was the only perfect person that walked this earth. He was so perfect that He let Himself be crucified for my and your mistakes!

I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I am “Not Perfect…Just Forgiven!”. I make mistakes everyday. I take His name in vain and He reminds me that I am not to do that. He doesn’t yell rather gently reminds us of who He is!

If you don’t know the Jesus that I know, then maybe it is time that you did. He is free for the taking. He won’t expect you to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable with. Jesus loves you. Just like He loves me. Not cause He has to but because He wants to. We are not worthy of His love or His sacrifice.

None of us are worthy but through the shedding of His blood. Take Him as your own and you will not be disappointed!


“Keep Looking UP! His Coming Is Nigh!”


Jesus’ Gang!

I was asked to join a gang…….I gave them this response….

“I am already in a gang….the best gang of all…and my Leader is pretty rad….balls to the wall sort of guy….after all…..He did spread out His arms and die for me!”


“Keep Looking Up!! His Coming Is High!”

Merry Christmas!

Christmas, a time for presents, family, indulgence and parties. When we over eat, over drink and over everything. We tend to forget what this day means. Is it all about gifts and parties and over indulgence or is it about the baby born in a manger all those years ago.

To some it is just about family. The holidays are a time to get together and maybe it is the only time that they see family at all. It’s a time to get all gussied up and go to church for the first and probably only time. To some it is a time to avoid every one and be a humbug.

To me it is family, feasting and the child born in a manger. For aside from the child, there would be no Christmas. Sure there would be the Winter Solstice that celebrates the new sun but to me and as important as that is, it doesn’t deserve a celebration.

I think Linus from the Peanuts gang said it best.

Peanuts Christmas

Isaiah  prophesied about Jesus and was very direct.

isaiah 96

Micah predicted the birthplace of the Messiah.


I could go on and on but alas, I don’t have all day. So let me say this.

Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Fairest of Ten Thousand! Was born to die. He was born so that man (male and female) could be saved from the evils of this world. That is what this day is all about. The birth of a child who would be the final and greatest sacrifice that man has ever made. Even if you don’t worship him, acknowledge who He is. Because you see, even Santa knows the reason for the season.

Santa Reason

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night. Have a wonderful holidays and enjoy your family and friends. Treasure them for they will not be around forever. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!


“Keep Looking Up! For His coming is Nigh!”

Who Am I?

Who am I that the King of Kings would come down to save me from my sins.

Who Am I?

I am a sinner.

I am the foulest of men.

I am covered in sin.

I am bathed in it.

I am flawed!

I am a fading flower.

A speck of sand that gets blown around by the wind.

A dandelion silk seed that weaves and bobs to the current of the wind.

I am an animal that is ruled by the brain and not by the heart.

I put my trust in the tangible not the unseen.

I am but a child who eagerly seeks his Father’s warm touch.

A seed that is waiting to be bathed in my Lord’s love so I may become what He wants me to be.

I am an old man who has walked with his Lord for 40 years and still, even though I make mistakes, seek Him.

I am flawed and dented covered in scars yet my Lord loves me still.

I am loved not because my Lord has to but because He wants to.

Does that sound familiar. Did you think of yourself when you read that. If you did then remember this.

John 3:16

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.”

Isaiah 53

The Suffering Servant

53 Who has believed our message?
And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
For He grew up before Him like a tender shoot,
And like a root out of parched ground;
He has no stately form or majesty
That we should look upon Him,
Nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him.
He was despised and forsaken of men,
A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
And like one from whom men hide their face
He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.

Surely our griefs He Himself bore,
And our sorrows He carried;
Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken,
Smitten of God, and afflicted.
But He was pierced through for our transgressions,
He was crushed for our iniquities;
The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him,
And by His scourging we are healed.
All of us like sheep have gone astray,
Each of us has turned to his own way;
But the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all
To all on Him.

He was oppressed and He was afflicted,
Yet He did not open His mouth;
Like a lamb that is led to slaughter,
And like a sheep that is silent before its shearers,
So He did not open His mouth.
By oppression and judgment He was taken away;
And as for His generation, who considered
That He was cut off out of the land of the living
For the transgression of my people, to whom the stroke was due?
His grave was assigned with wicked men,
Yet He was with a rich man in His death,
Because He had done no violence,
Nor was there any deceit in His mouth.

10 But the Lord was pleased
To crush Him, putting Him to grief;
If He would render Himself as a guilt offering,
He will see His offspring,
He will prolong His days,
And the good pleasure of the Lord will prosper in His hand.
11 As a result of the anguish of His soul,
He will see it and be satisfied;
By His knowledge the Righteous One,
My Servant, will justify the many,
As He will bear their iniquities.
12 Therefore, I will allot Him a portion with the great,
And He will divide the booty with the strong;
Because He poured out Himself to death,
And was numbered with the transgressors;
Yet He Himself bore the sin of many,
And interceded for the transgressors.

Jesus died for you. He doesn’t care about your flaws or your scars. He cares about you. You are special to Him. He loves you like no other. His love is perfect.

If in reading this blog post, you find that you want to come to Jesus then it is the easiest thing you can do. Talk to Him, take Him as your own and declare Him as your Lord and Saviour.

Don’t be afraid to ask questions. As Christians, we are here to show you the way but to do so in a loving way. Not to shove Jesus down your throat but rather present Him in such a way to show you who He is and that He is who He said He was.

If you come away with nothing else other than “Jesus loves you” then the seed has been planted and we will pray for you!


“Keep Looking UP!”

Where the Thunder Roars

This story is inspired by the song “Where The Thunder Roars” recorded by the Christian Band White Heart. I hope you enjoy it.


Where nuclear snow falls the thunder is close to follow.  For almost a decade nuclear winter had had a strangle hold on the world. Anything left alive now cried out for death to come.

Ten years ago or there abouts, four nuclear bombs were dropped on North America. Two on Washington D.C., one on Ottawa, Canada and one on Mexico City, Mexico. All over the world nuclear bombs were being dropped in other capitol cities. Small countries nearby were left alone. The blasts from neighboring countries were enough to destroy the small countries. Millions upon millions of people died. Innocent children and adults died before they even knew what happened.

The war started three years to the day that the United States invaded Iraq. A year into the war, civil war broke out. The U.S. military were driven out but the U.S. would not leave. They insisted on staying.  The president at the time was bent on a democratic Iraq no matter what the costs were. Lives were lost. Bombs were dropped. The U.S. military were all but wiped out. The President was not happy.

More military were called. The draft was re-initiated. Thousands upon thousands of boys sixteen or older were drafted. These same boys would sent home in body bags. More boys were called up and even girls were drafted. The more that were sent, the more that were sent back in body bags. The Americans were loosing more then just people. They were also loosing friendly countries. Soon out of nowhere came a country no one had thought about.

 This country sat between Iraq and Israel. They were an Islamic country but were friendly with Iraq and Israel which was unusual. The country was called Palmyra. During the civil war in Syria had caused a split. What was once one country was now two? No one took notice of the civil war in Syria because of the situation in Iraq.

 It didn’t take long for Palmyra to show its true intent. Soon bombs were dropping everywhere. Palmyra started dropping bombs for no apparent reason. It didn’t take long for the world to become something that it should never have been.

 Now ten years have passed and countries no longer mattered. What was once a planet of several billion now was a planet of several thousand. Millions up millions died from the bombs. Millions upon millions died because of the fallout. Millions upon millions more died from radiation poisoning. Even more died from all the unrest and laying blame and countries fighting and destroying each other. When the final tally was added up, billions of people had died.

 Race didn’t matter. Religion didn’t matter. Adult or child didn’t matter. Nuclear destruction is an indiscriminate killer. Nothing mattered. Even the very country that set the bombs off was not immune.

 Now the dust fell. The thunder roared and snow drifted to the ground. What once was a beautiful oasis of wonder, Las Vegas was now just rubble. The lights that once shone brighter then the stars were now dead. There was nothing but silence now. No one roamed the streets, for if they did the disfigured animals would get them or the things that use to be human would. But one would.

 Day One

 His name was William Smith but he liked being called Smitty. Smitty stood six feet tall. His black hair trailed down his back in a long ponytail. His steel gray eyes always looked at the person he talked to. It was almost as if he could see right into their souls. He always carried his bible around. Most people thought he was nuts but he didn’t pay them no mind. He knew they didn’t know any better. Maybe he was. Smitty would sit in his bunker and talk to the Lord. He almost always did it alone. Sometimes he would have a rat or the occasional insect as company.

 All the bomb shelters weren’t exactly bomb shelters. They were actually the subway system. Not the upper ones but rather the lower ones. Yes Vegas had a subway system. It wasn’t very big or had it been used but it was there. Since the bomb the tunnels had increased. People dug more and more trying to find privacy when privacy was a luxury. Rooms had been carved out of rock and families huddled together. They huddled to keep warm and to stay alive. It might not be the best life but it was life.

Smitty sat in his own little area. He did the same thing he did every day. He read his bible. He had read his bible so many times that you could tell just by looking at it that his bible was well loved. The elastic bands that held it together was a dead give away. Smitty closed his bible and then began to pray. 

“Father in heaven, I come to you. Not only as your child but also as one who lives in this hell we have created.

“Lord Jesus, I bow before you and worship you. I glorify your name. You are the Master of all. Be with me this night as I sleep. Be with me as I wake and guide my steps. In Your precious name I ask this. Amen.”

Smitty opened his eyes and spied a little girl. She was standing off to one side trying not to be seen. He had seen her the last few days. She crept a little closer every day. He smiled as she walked away. He closed his eyes and was asleep in no time.

Morning came the same way it always did, wet and dreary. Smitty opened his eyes and looked right into the eyes of the little girl. He smiled up at her and she smiled at him.

 “Hello little one, what is your name?”

 “My name is Shelagh, what is yours?”

 “My name is William Smith but you can call me Smitty. Where is your mommy?”

 “She is not feeling well, could you come look?”

  Smitty nodded his head and took Shelagh’s hand. They walked towards the end of the subway track. Finding the hole that Shelagh and her mother lived in, Smitty stepped right in. He could tell right away that her mommy was dead. He turned towards Shelagh.

 “I’m sorry sweetheart, but your mommy is dead. She has gone to be with God.”

 Shelagh began to cry, her hands covering her face. She cried harder. Smitty took her into his arms and she melted into them.

 “Come with me. You can stay with me. Is that okay?”

 Shelagh nodded her head. She clung to Smitty as they walked back to his home. When they got there, Smitty let Shelagh lay down. She fell to sleep almost immediately. Smitty left her to sleep as he went on packing. He finished up and then sat down to watch her sleep. Shelagh stirred and moaned. She was dreaming. Smitty sat down beside her and stroked her head. She seemed to calm down. He wondered what she was dreaming about.

 When Shelagh woke up she found herself curled up into the crook of Smitty’s’ arm. He was snoring softly. She got up and found a place to go to the bathroom. She came back and picked up his bible. She didn’t know what it was but she at it anyways.

Shelagh read words that she had never heard. She read about how God loved us and that He sent His only Son to die for us. She didn’t understand, but she would ask Smitty about it. She looked up to see Smitty looking at her. She quickly put down the bible. She wasn’t sure if she had done something wrong or not. Smitty held up his hands.

 “No, please look. I have another that you can have. This one is mine but you may look at it.”

Smitty got up and found the other bible. He passed it her and took his own. She took the other one and opened it. She looked up at Smitty.

“Who is God?”

“God is the creator of all. He was before there was anything else. He always has been and always will be.” Smitty replied. 

“Who is Jesus?” Shelagh asked.

Smitty smiled at her. He sat down beside her. 

“Who is Jesus? That is not an easy question to answer but I will try my best.

 “Jesus is the Son of God. He came to be the sacrifice for our sins. He did it because He wanted to not because He had to. If He had done it because it was expected of Him then His death would have meant nothing. But because He willingly died, it means we have right to be called the children of God. I know for a little girl, it doesn’t make any sense but in time it will.”

Shelagh nodded and the put down her bible. She looked into the corner of the room. She pointed to it. Smitty looked where she pointed.

“I’m going on a trip. I am going above ground. It has been ten years since the bombs dropped. The dust is still falling but I want to find out if the air is breathable.” 

“How do you know the dust is still falling?” Shelagh asked. 

“I was up high enough last week to see it. I didn’t go way up, just far enough to see the dust.” 

“Can I come?” Shelagh asked.

“I don’t know what dangers are out there. There could be animals and other things. Mutations from the nuclear fall out.”

“I’ll stay close and do what you say. I promise.”

Smitty nodded his head. Shelagh smiled.

“We will leave in two days. I am going to have to find more supplies. A warm coat for you and some boots too. Tomorrow we can go up and the things you need. The clothes might be a little big as will the boots but at least you will be warm. So let’s try to get some sleep.”

Smitty let her have the bed and he curled up in a sleeping bag. Both were off to sleep in no time.

 Day Two

The morning came softly. There was no big bang or major revelation. No bands played and no one saw the sun rise. It just came. Shelagh was already awake. She sat reading the bible that Smitty gave her. She didn’t understand it but she knew that Smitty would explain it best he could. She didn’t know why she trusted Smitty but she did. Everyone did. He was the only one they ever trusted. Maybe it was because he was so gentle even though he was so big. He never said an unkind word or made fun of anyone.

 Smitty stirred but didn’t wake up. Shelagh looked at him. She had always seen him around but never got up the nerve to say boo to him. Her mother spoke to him often. She never heard him talk about Jesus. He would help with anything that needed to be done. He never tried to get payment for any of the work he did. He seemed so odd. Any of the other men around always wanted payment. Normally it would mean her mom having to do something that was so degrading. Smitty wasn’t like that.  Her mom would offer but Smitty would always say no. He would go on his way then be available to help again. Shelagh saw Smitty stir again. This time he opened his eyes slightly. He smiled when he saw her. Sitting up he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

 “Good morning. I see you are ready to go. Let me get ready and then we can go.”

 “I’m hungry.” Shelagh said.

 “Yes I know. We will have to see what the Lord can give us. He will supply.”

 Smitty got up and changed his clothes then came back out. He looked in the wall and found a can of peaches. He opened it and poured some into a throwaway bowl. Finding a plastic spoon, he passed the bowl to Shelagh. They ate quietly then tossed away the garbage. He took her hand and started on their way.

 Shelagh stayed close to Smitty. It was dark and the way was hard to see. Smitty had his flashlight but it needed new batteries. It did little to light the way but it made Shelagh feel better. Suddenly someone jumped out of the shadows.

 “Give me the girl. It’s been a long time for me. I haven’t had a girl in a very long time.”

 Smitty glared at him, “No, you can’t have her, she is mine. Now be gone.”

 The man brandished a knife. He showed it to Smitty who did nothing. The man lunged at Smitty and he pushed him away. The man swung wildly and caught a glancing blow on Smitty’s’ arm. Smitty could feel the blood start to pour.

 Smitty felt a rage that he had not felt in many years. The man lunged at him again and Smitty caught him square in the face. Shelagh had moved back but not so far that she could not see that was going on. The man went down but was up almost immediately. He lunged again but Smitty grabbed him by the throat. Smitty pushed him up against the rock wall. Smitty was smiling. The man was struggling.

“The girl belongs to me! No one else can have her. I will do with her what I will.”

 “I want the girl. She looks so innocent, so tasty. I want her!”

 The man tried to fight but Smitty pressed him harder into the rock wall. The man brought the knife up and tried to bring the knife down into Smitty’s’ chest. Smitty’s’ arm blocked him. Smitty felt the knife tear into his shoulder. He didn’t scream in pain. All he did was pull the knife from the wound. He forced it down and plunged it into the man’s stomach.

 Smitty stepped back as his attacker sank to the ground. People had gathered around. Smitty looked at them. They all looked down. One woman walked up and brushed his face with her hand.

 “Thank you mister, that piece of trash is the same man that had violated our children. You did right by killing him and protecting your daughter. “

 Smitty nodded and tried to speak. She put her hand on his mouth and then spit on the dead man. She smiled and then with the rest of them, she walked away. Smitty turned to see Shelagh standing in the shadows. She walked over to him.

“Why did you have to kill him?”

 Smitty looked at her. “Well if I didn’t then you would be his slave. Now is that what you wanted. He would have used you for sex and who knows what else and when he was done with you; he would have thrown you away like you were yesterday’s garbage. Is that what you wanted?”

 “No!” Shelagh cried.

“Then it is good that I killed him. Child this is not the world of old. This is a new world. The old world that you have heard about was relatively safe. This world is not. This world may look like the old world but it is a lot more dangerous.”

Shelagh knew he was right. Even though she did not know the old world, she had heard stories, about how people, for the most part, could walk out in public and be safe. How people lived in houses not holes in the ground. She had never seen a flower except in old magazines. She shook her head.

 “Can we go now?”

 “Yes.” Smitty said as he smiled at her.

 They made their way up to the next level. There were very few people around. Most people stayed underground. It was too bright up here. Plus people were afraid of the fallout and nuclear radiation. Smitty knew different. Shelagh looked up at the light. It was bright, so bright she had to shield her eyes. Smitty smiled and passed her a pair of sunglasses. She looked at them and put them on. She giggled. She was still young enough that she didn’t mind wearing piggies on her face.

 They arrived at the first store. Smitty took her hand. She gasped when she saw the first skeleton. There was still a little bit of hair left on the head. It wore dirty white pearls around its neck. Shelagh stared at it with morbid fascination.

 Smitty pulled her arm, “Come let’s go. We need to find clothes for you. We have lots of time. They don’t come out till dark.”

 “They?” Shelagh asked.

 “Yes, they. We will discuss it tonight.” Smitty replied.

 They made their way to the children’s section. There were lots of clothes here. Shelagh had lots to choose from. They quickly chose the clothes for her. They moved over to the shoes. Finding lots of boots and shoes, they chose two of each for her. Now it was Smitty’s turn. Smitty didn’t need much. Just some heavy wool socks. He found some but they were women’s but he didn’t care. They would keep his feet warm and dry and in the end that is all he cared about. Next he went looking for supplies. They would need some where they were going.

 Shelagh lallygagged as they went. She looked at all the pretty rings. Smitty found her a nice purple one. She placed it on her finger and then hurried along to catch up with Smitty. Shelagh found him looking in the canned goods. He was choosing cans at random. There wasn’t a lot there, but he did find some good things. He looked for fruit and found lots of canned peaches. Smitty hated peaches but took what the good Lord gave.

 Shelagh came to him with an unopened can of ground coffee. It had been a long time since he had a cop of coffee. Black no sugar was the way he liked it. He saw that she had three and put them in his bag. He looked for canned juice for Shelagh but all he could find was pineapple juice. It would have to do. He smiled then picked up the bag.

 “Time for us to get going, it will be dark soon and we do not want to be out when that happens.”

 He started walking towards the door then looked back. Shelagh had not moved. She was holding something shiny in her hand. He walked back and looked at it. It was a sterling silver cross. She smiled at him.

 “You gave me the ring so I thought I should give you something. I want you to have this.”

 Smitty nodded and smiled. He took her offering and slipped it around his neck.

 He modeled it for her.  “How does it look?”

 “Wonderful!” Shelagh replied.

 “We must go now. Come along.” Smitty said.

 They arrived back to Smitty’s with no incidents. Smitty took the food and divided it up into days. It was going to take five days  to get to where they were going. He looked in on Shelagh to find her sound asleep. He covered her up and went back to work. After he had packed all the backpacks and sled, he covered them up and the climbed under the covers.                                                      

Day Three

Smitty stirred first. His internal alarm clock went off. He quickly got dressed and then took his bible and began to read.

 “For God so love the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

 Smitty put down his bible and then looked right into Shelagh`s eyes. She smiled at him and he smiled at her.

 “Good morning, are we ready to go?” Smitty asked.

 Shelagh nodded her head, “Yep, I am ready. Not sure where we are going but I am ready.”

 “Good, cause I want to be gone before sun up. When we get to the store level, we will wait till the sun come up. It isn’t very bright but it will be bright enough to get along. We will only travel by day. It is too dangerous to travel at night. Do you understand?”

 Shelagh nodded her head, “Yes, I understand. I will do as you say.”

 Everything was gathered together and they headed out. Smitty carried the bulk of the supplies. Shelagh carried what she could. Anything else was pulled on a small sled. They got to the store level without incident. Stopping to rest, they each had a drink of juice. They didn’t talk.

Smitty picked up his backpack and motioned for Shelagh to do the same. It was getting light out. The monsters that roamed the night world would be heading into their lairs. Smitty smiled and then led Shelagh up the stairs then stopped.

 At the top of the stairs stood a monster, it looked like a man but it also looked like something from a nightmare. It stood at lease six feet tall with long dangly arms arms. At each end of the arms were claws. They no long looked like hands. The skin was charred and oozing with puss. What little hair on its head was wild and short?  Its eyes burned like fire. It glared at Smitty.

Smitty pushed Shelagh down the stairs. . The monster advanced. Smitty stood his ground and pulled out his guns. He didn’t take careful aim, he just started to fire. Most of the bullets missed but some of them hit their target. The monster went down to one knee and Smitty took careful aim. He fired sending the bullet into the monster’s head. It fell to the ground and thrashed around for a few seconds then stopped.  Smitty looked down at Shelagh.

 “Stay there. Do not come near.”

 Smitty moved up towards the monster. It moved and Smitty shot it again. He motioned for Shelagh to come up. She started to come up and then stopped. The monster moved. She pointed at it and Smitty put another round into the body. He kicked at it to show Shelagh that it was dead. She passed by then sat down and cried.

 “Sorry for crying. I was scared.”

 “No need to be sorry. Truth be told, I was scared too but it is gone now.”

 “Will there be more?” she asked.

 “I suppose but we will worry about when the time comes.”  He pointed at the monster, “That is why we travel during the day. They only come out at night. There are things that are out during the day but for the most part they will not even look at you. Ignore them and they will ignore you. Now come. I have to get some more ammo. I saw a gun shop downstairs not far from here. Let’s go.”

 They quickly ran down the stairs to the gun shop. Smitty smashed the glass and then quickly found what he was looking for. He even found some rounds for his Luger. He picked up another one and all the ammo he could carry. He looked around and found another backpack and put all the extra ammo into it. He slung it over his shoulder. He took Shelagh’s hand and then they rushed into the daylight. Shelagh put her sunglasses on and Smitty followed suit. He looked around. Nuclear winter was such a bummer.

 Shelagh looked at all the buildings. Ten years of ash and neglect really showed. She didn’t know what to think. She looked up at the horizon. She could see the red sky and see the lightning. It was faint but she could just make out the sound of the thunder. She looked at Smitty and pointed to the mountain.

 “Is that where we are going?”

 Smitty looked at the mountain then back at Shelagh. He smiled at her and then nodded his head.  She looked at him.


 “Because I believe that is where I can find God. I believe that is where I can finally be with my Lord and Master Jesus Christ.”

 Shelagh nodded her head. She let the matter drop and said nothing more about it. She just smiled.

 “Where to now?”

 Smitty pointed to his right. He knew where to go for now. After a bit he would be going on gut instinct.  He started walking that way with Shelagh in tow. They walked through the streets. The buildings were falling apart. The corpses of automobiles were scattered like cord wood. Shelagh peeked in one and saw a skeleton. She jumped back. Smitty joined her. He pointed to the silver cross around his neck.

“No worries that poor soul is not going to hurt you. He died during the fallout. Probably a year or so into it I suspect. He might have been a Christian or he might not have been. A lot of people wore crosses then but didn’t believe in God.” Smitty explained.

 “Why would anyone wear something that means something you don’t believe in?”

 “Because that was the way it was. It became a fashion statement to wear a cross. It became not a show of faith but rather a show of vanity. It was a spit into the eyes of God. That is what happens when you take Jesus out of the equation. Put Him up on a shelf where He can’t bother anyone and then go about your daily life as if He isn’t there then when the need arises; claim Him as your Savior and Lord. Come let’s get going. I have something I want to show you.”

Smitty took her hand and led her down the street. They passed by old destroyed stores. She saw the remains of dresses and other items. She saw jewelry all over the ground. She bent down to look at it then walked away. She caught up with Smitty and took his hand. After an hour of walking through dust and ash, they got to where they were going. It was the ruins of an old church. Shelagh could still see the cross standing tall against the ash and duct. She stared at it. It seemed to shine in the dismal light like a beacon, almost as if to say that God had not abandoned the world. Smitty found the remains of a door and opened it. Shelagh walked in before him.

 The pews that still stood were beautiful. The intricate scroll works on the sides were signs of a master’s hand. They were made of the finest oak and a deep rich brown. Some even had the original plaques on them from when people paid for the pew. One read The Miller Family, Nineteen Eighty Five. She looked at the others. They also had names and dates. Smitty pulled her hand gently.

 “Come with me into the bottom level. That is where we will stay for the night. There is no one there so we can leave our stuff and then go back outside and look around.”

 They went downstairs navigating the rubble carefully. Smitty reached the bottom first and moved a rock out of the way. They were still a few supplies there from the last time he had been here.

“You have been here before?” Shelagh asked.

“Yes, I was here about a year ago. I spent two days here trying to find God. As you can see, I found Him.”

 “So this place is safe from the monsters?”

 “Yes, we are fine. They consider this place taboo so they won’t come in. Our supplies will be safe. Let me stow this stuff and we can go.”

Smitty quickly got the guns and some ammo. He rolled the rock back into place and then after sliding the guns into his belt and the ammo into his coat pocket, he motioned for Shelagh to follow him as he made his way back up through the rubble. They returned outside and saw the cross again. Smitty scanned to his left, right and in front of him. He pointed to his right and they headed off that way.

 They trod through the dust and the nuclear snow. As before the remains of rusted out cars were everywhere. Store fronts were destroyed. Looting had happened but those who had done the looting were dead before they had the chance to enjoy their booty.

 As they turned the corner they could hear screaming as if someone was being attacked. They followed the sound to see monsters attacking a woman. Smitty pulled his guns and pushed Shelagh into the doorway. The girl was pretty badly beaten. Smitty walked over carefully all the while keeping his eyes on the one that had his back to him. Holding the gun firmly in his hand, Smitty brought it down butt first and knocked the thing down. Smitty watched for any notice from the other two.

 The girl slid down the wall of the building that supported her. She had blood pooling on the ground. Smitty raised his gun and fired. The shot rang out and hit one of the monsters in the head. He quickly fired again and hit the other in the chest. Smitty ran over and put two more rounds into each creature.  She watched him through bloodied eyes and cringed. Smitty walked back over.

 “It is okay. Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you.” He said as he held out his hand.

 The girl took his hand and got up on her wobbly legs. She started to fall and Smitty grabbed her. He helped her over to a place to sit. She sat down and looked at the bodies.

 “What is your name child?” Smitty asked.

 “Moriah is my name. What is yours?”

 “You can call me Smitty. What are you doing out? It is not safe.”

 “I was coming out to see what the world was like. It has been so long since I had seen it. It is not as I remember it.”

 Smitty looked up to see Shelagh coming closer. He motioned for her to come She looked over at the girl. She was bleeding. Shelagh ripped a swath of material from her shirt and dabbed some of the blood off the girls’ face.

 “There that is better….”

 Shelagh saw the instant fear in the girl’s eyes. She turned around to see the monster rising from the ground. She looked for Smitty but he had gone off to get something. The creature moved closer. Shelagh looked for something to protect herself with. She found what looked like a large stick. She struck the monster with all her might but the stick shattered. Moriah started throwing rocks but it did not stop it.

 “Smitty, help!” Shelagh cried out.

 Smitty came running. He had his guns out. He fired above the monster. It turned towards Smitty and spit venom. Smitty dropped behind an old car and looked at the monster through the broken window. He aimed carefully through the same window. He squeezed off a shot and hit the monster. The bullet whizzed through the air and hit the leg. The monster sank to the ground. The girls got up and ran. Smitty got up quickly and advanced on the monster. It lay on the ground clutching its leg. Smitty looked down and opened fire. He emptied two full clips into it. By the time he was finished, there was nothing left. Smitty turned towards the girls.

 “Are you two alright?”

 Shelagh and Moriah both shook their heads. Smitty dropped the guns and then sat down. He was sad and tired. He didn’t like killing but had no other choice.  Moriah came up towards him.

 “What are those things?”

 “They are mutants. I call them troglodytes. They came into being a year or so after the bombs were dropped. They normally don’t come out during the day. Night time is their time to roam and feed on what is stupid enough to come out.” He replied.

 Smitty looked up at the sky. The shadow of the sun was high in the sky. It was afternoon and darkness would be coming soon. They needed to get to cover.

 “Come we must be going.” He looked at Moriah. “Do you have a place to go?”

 “No. My place of hiding is far away from here. I would never make it back in time.”

 “Very well then, you can stay with us for the night.”

Moriah nodded her head. She glanced at Shelagh and smiled softly. She looked so young and tender. She glanced at Smitty and grinned. He must enjoy her a lot.

 “Is she yours?” She asked pointing at Shelagh.

 “What do you mean mine?”

 “Is she your, you know?”

 Smitty opened his eyes wide. He knew what she meant now. He thought about what to say. He had to protect Shelagh. She was only ten after all, far too young to be used for sexual perversion. He stopped and looked at Shelagh then motioned for her to come to him. She did so and curled up into his arm. He smiled at her like a father would at his daughter. Smitty always told the truth and this time was no different.

 “No she is not mine in the sense that you speak of. She is my daughter and under my protection. Does that explain it?”

 “Yes it does. I shall not bother her. Where are you traveling to?”

 “We are headed to the where the thunder roars.”

 “Why go there. There is nothing but death there. No one and nothing lives there. I am told it is because of the heat.” Moriah said.

 Smitty looked at her. He made it clear with his face that he would not speak of it until they were in a safer place. He took Shelagh`s hand and pulled her gently along. Moriah followed close. They made their way back to the crumbling church. Going downstairs, Smitty moved the rock and pulled out the supplies. He opened a can of peaches and spit it between Moriah and Shelagh. He took a small can of mixed fruit and ate it slowly. He said a quiet grace as he ate.

“I am told that God is at that mountain.” Smitty said.

 Moriah looked at him. Her grey eyes seemed to mock him. She tossed back her blonde hair. She smiled a mocking smile.

 “If God has any brains, He won’t be up there. He will be somewhere safe and warm. Nothing against God but He would be a fool to go there.”

 Smitty smiled. This was a girl that had been to the mountain or at least very close to the mountain. That meant she knew how to get there. He had to find out from her how.

 “So am I to assume that you have been to the mountain?”

 “Close enough to know that it is bloody hot.” Moriah replied with a nod.

 Smitty nodded his head slowly. He slowly rubbed his graying beard. he looked over at Shelagh and smiled. He got up and placed a blanket from the bags over her. It was going to get cold tonight. He looked over at Moriah.

 “I will help you get to where you want to go.” She said as she laid her head down.

 Smitty closed his eyes and said a quiet prayer. Soon he too was asleep. All three slept peacefully though the night. Morning came to rain and cloud.

 Day Four

Smitty woke up first. Moriah and Shelagh slept. He said his morning prayers and then made coffee. He made a small fire and heated some water. He drank his coffee before anyone else awoke and while he read his bible. Moriah stirred first.

 “You have coffee?”

 Smitty nodded and then tossed her a plastic mug.

 “Yep and the water is still hot. Help yourself.

 She smiled and then made her coffee. She sipped it slowly trying not to slurp. She had gotten use to black coffee and sipped it slowly.

“Are you a bomb worshiper?”

 “No.” Smitty replied.

 “Do you worship the goddess or any of the other gods?”

 Smitty turned around. He looked at Moriah and smiled. She asked all the right questions just not in the right way. He didn’t mind her ignorance. Those who did not know the Lord God were not wrong in doing what they did. They had probably never heard the gospel of Jesus Christ and therefore were ignorant of Him.

 “No, I do not worship the goddess or any of the other gods. I do not worship a bomb nor do I plan on it. I worship the One True Living God. Not a bomb or an idol made by man’s hand but the only God that is worthy of my praise. His name is Jesus Christ.”

Moriah smiled softly but her eyes said otherwise. She was taught that the goddess taught tolerance but she was not so tolerant. If he would not worship the goddess then he deserved to die.

 “I see. I worship the goddess. She teaches tolerance.”

 “I understand.” Smitty said through a nod. “We can learn much from each other I think.”

 Shelagh stirred. It was getting light out and they needed to get going. They had far to travel and little time to do it in. Smitty opened a small can of peaches and handed them to Shelagh. She ate them down and then quickly got dressed. Smitty got the supplies out and arranged them into the knapsacks. With a third person more could be carried. He passed one to Moriah, a small one to Shelagh and the other two he took himself. They started upstairs then stopped. Smitty passed Moriah a gun.

 “You do know how to use this right?”

Moriah nodded her head. She took the pistol and the half dozen clips. They continued their way upstairs. The sun was up high enough that the troglodytes should be back in their dark lairs. Smitty headed for the door first. He looked out and saw nothing. He motioned for the girls to join him.

 “It is early and the sun is up. High enough I think to make the troglodytes go back to their lairs but one never knows. We must be wary.” Smitty looked right at Shelagh. “You stay between me and Moriah. Do not leave, get distracted. We must get as far as we can before sundown.”

 Shelagh nodded her head. She watched Smitty take the lead with Moriah bringing up the rear. She felt like a sandwich and she was the tasty filling. She kept pace as best she could. Sometimes she was too fast and sometimes too slow. Smitty kept look out for trouble. Moriah did the same. Suddenly Smitty heard the sound of a bullet flying by his ear. He could actually feel the faint whoosh of air as it flew by him.

 “Hit the ground.”

 Shelagh did as she was told. She did not have to be told twice. She crawled towards a burnt out car and waited She could see Smitty pretty well but Moriah was nowhere to be found. She looked to find Smitty again.

 “Smitty, look out!” Shelagh screamed.

 Moriah came running around the corner and shot. The bullet flew through the air and caught Shelagh square in the chest. Blood splattered outwards and she sank against the car. Her body quivered then stopped as her life ebbed from her. Smitty heard her scream too late. He quickly swung around and caught Moriah as she looked at the dying girl. The evil grin on her face was testament enough for Smitty. He caught her ankle with his leg and watched as she came crashing down. He punched her once. She still breathed.

More bullets whizzed by him. One caught him in the shoulder as he looked towards Shelagh. She was pressed up against a car. He looked back to see another bullet hit him in the other shoulder. He scrambled behind a car and looked for Shelagh. She was still pressed against the other car. She was looking at him. He could see her fear.

 Moving towards her slowly, the pain was almost too much to bear. He commando crawled along the ground. The pain from his shoulders was bad enough that he winced. He got to Shelagh and saw the blood. She had been shot in the chest. Her eyes did not move when he called her name. She didn’t hear him. He closed his eyes and said a quiet prayer all the while holding back the anger that was building.

 While he was in prayer, Moriah started to stir. Smitty didn’t see her but he did hear her. He stayed still and waited for her to get closer. He suddenly stood up and hit her full force on the jaw. She started to go down but Smitty caught her. He dragged her back to the ruined church. Night was falling as Moriah started to stir. Smitty guessed that he had hit her a little too hard. She sat up on her elbows.

 “Why did you hit me?”

 “Because you were going to kill me just like you killed Shelagh.”

 Moriah looked at Smitty and wry grin crossed her face. She didn’t even try to hide her surprise. She hissed at him venomously.

 “Yes I killed her. I would have killed you too if that brat had died the way she was suppose to. But no, she had to use her last breath to warn you.”

 “Why, for the love of God?”

 “Why, because you dared to come out into our territory. You dared to go to the mountain of the goddess. There is no God. You worship a false God. Only the goddess is worthy of praise. The girl was yours. I wanted her. The goddess wanted her. She would have pleased many men as she was passed around. The goddess wishes…”

Smitty watched as Moriah fell to the ground. She moaned as she slid down the wall. She hadn’t even seen Smitty’s fist coming. He quickly tied her up and then gagged her and dragged her outside. He knew it would not be long before they would come looking for her. He grabbed his guns and ammo and ran. He left the supplies behind.

 Running as fast as he could, he left everything behind. He tried not to cry but the tears came anyways. Shelagh was gone and he was alone. Moriah had betrayed him and he was alone. He tried to think that he liked it that way but he knew it was a lie. He loved that little girl like a father loves a daughter. Smitty stopped and fell to his knees. He cried out to God as the tears flowed undaunted.

 “WHY?” He cried. “Why did Shelagh have to die? She was close to coming to you!”

 Smitty got up off the ground and stood still a moment. He waited t0 hear from the Lord but heard only the crunching of his feet against the dust as he began to walk. He looked back but he kept moving forward. The mountain was his goal. He started his journey to the mountain again but this time he wanted answers.

 He had walked for hours and noticed that it was getting dark. He needed to find shelter. He had walked a fair distance. The glow from the mountain was closer. He looked around and found a store that had been boarded up.

 “This looks as good a place as any other place.”

 The door opened easily. Smitty shone his flashlight slowly. No one had been in here for quite a while. He slid down the wall and dropped his guns on the floor. Looking at the door, he found no lock but he didn’t care. He looked around and found the place empty. He tried not to think about the events of today. Tears started to flow. Except for earlier, he had not cried for years.

 “Why? She was so young. She didn’t deserve to die. She was on her way to you. God, tell me! Explain to me why she had to die!”

 His tears flowed and he cried himself to sleep. He didn’t say his evening prayers like he normally did. He didn’t read his bible. He ignored God. He was mad like a little child that had had his favorite toy taken away from him. Sleep came quickly. He tossed and turned. Sleep was restless. He dreamed of pain and suffering. He dreamed of Shelagh’s mom and the way she died. Smitty saw her face and the way it was contorted in pain. He didn’t want to look anymore. Suddenly he heard a voice.

“Jesus loves you Smitty. He loved you enough to die for you, love him enough to realize that I already took Him as my own. I am with Him and you can be too but you have to quit acting like a child. You have to finish what you started. You have to go to the mountain. Go and see what He has in store for you.”

 It was Shelagh’s voice. He smiled. The dreams stopped and he fell into a fitful slumber.

 Day Five

 The morning light filtered its way down through the dust turning it from a bright yellow to a dingy gray. A slight beam hit Smitty on the face. It warmed him enough to wake him up. He sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He still had a smile on his face. He looked around the store to find canned goods galore. He spied a can opener on the floor and grabbed a label less can. He quickly opened it.

 “Peaches again!”

 Using his fingers he quickly ate them and then gathered up his guns. He found a backpack and threw a few cans into it. He threw in the can opener to. Picking up the knapsack, he opened the door and started on his way to the mountain. He knew that he had far to go and little time to get there.

Smitty walked and walked. He didn’t talk to anyone. He saw no and saw nothing but destruction and more destruction. He came upon a burnt out church. He stopped to rest and saw burnt bodies. He looked away and prayed. Soon afterwards, he stood and resumed his travel. He pulled out his bible and began to read.

“Those who wait upon the Lord will renew their strength. They shall mount up on wings of eagles. They shall run and not get weary. They shall walk and not faint.”

 Smitty read it and felt his soul liven up. He walked with a purpose. He knew that he would get to the mountain. He would stand in the heart of the storm and feel the power of the Father, the Creator.

 Smitty walked for hours. He didn’t stop to rest nor did he stop to eat. His feet rose and fell in time. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours. He looked up into the sky and saw the setting sun. The building appeared out of nowhere. He would have sworn it was not there a moment ago. He quickly ducked in and took refuge.  He sat down and opened his sack. He took out a can of peaches and after opening it, ate them down. He laid his head down and was asleep in a matter of moments. He did not dream.

 Day Six

 Smitty woke up slowly. He sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He looked around and found that he was sitting in an abandoned mosque. The bombs hadn’t cared about religion. They were an indiscriminate killer.

 Smitty stood up and looked for a place to do his business. He finished up and then covered it. Grabbing his pack, we walked out the door. Strained sunlight hit his face. He didn’t fail to notice the heat. He looked around and saw the mountain. It was closer then he thought or he had walked a very long way yesterday.

 He moved towards the mountain, shedding clothes as he walked.  Soon he was down to his shorts and an undershirt. He walked up the mountain. He saw people standing around and they were waving at him. Some he knew and others he didn’t. Shelagh came running up to him.

 “Smitty!” She cried.

 She jumped into his arms and hugged him. He didn’t understand. He was sure he had seen her dead.

 “Hurry! Taste and see that the Lord is good!”

 Smitty started walking up the hill. It was steep but he did not seem to mind. He reached the peak and stood in the heart of the storm or rather he stood with The Heart of the Storm. He looked right into the eyes of Jesus. He fell to the ground and cried. Jesus reached down and picked Smitty up.

 “Well done good and faithful servant. You came to me and here I am.”

  Day Seven

 The store was quiet. Not a thing moved. Smitty was lying right where he had the night before. The empty can of peaches sat where he had put it down when he drifted off to sleep. Suddenly there was a light in the room. Two men walked in and rummaged around for food. They came upon Smitty. One of the men kicked at him. When they saw that he didn’t move, he reached down to search him. He found nothing but the guns. He pocketed them and continued to search.

 The other man found the knapsack. He emptied it out. He looked at the cans and put them aside. He tossed the clips for the guns to his partner. He took the Bible and tossed it aside.

 “Don’t need that rubbish, didn’t do this slob any good.”

 The two men gathered up their treasure. They looked over the scene one more time to make sure that had everything. They walked out never to look back.

 The bible had landed on Smitty’s chest when it had been tossed. The force of the landing had caused the left hand to bounce. It landed on the bible. The two men had never noticed the faint smile on Smitty’s face. It would remain there.


Spiritual Baptism..Does It Save You!

What is Spiritual Baptism? Is it different than Water Baptism? Will it save your soul? Well let’s break each question down. Try to understand the difference and how it works for a Christian. Let’s start with something easy. Who is the Spirit?

The Holy Spirit is part of the Trinity. The three in One. The Spirit was with God when He created the world and the universe. (Let Us). Now some will say that is not what it means. That it means it was only God and no one else. Now if that were true then it would read “I will” but it doesn’t say that. It says “Let Us” meaning more than one.

Genesis 1:26

26 Then God said, “Let us make man[a] in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”

So there we have it. Let US make man in OUR image. Pretty simple. See God put into place the Trinity way back then. It was always the Three. Nothing was done without the Three.

The Spirit is the same Spirit that came down upon the disciples when they were all up in the upper room. The same Spirit that came upon Christ when he was baptized by John. The same Spirit that came down and struck all the Assyrians when Sennacherib mocked the Lord. (2 kings 18-25). The Spirit is through out the bible. Not always called the Spirit but is nonetheless.


God instituted Baptism for one reason and one reason only. An outward sign for cleansing of sin. Even when John roamed the earth, it was two system thing. “Repent and be baptized.”

We weren’t saved in spots so why should we be baptized in spots. Some people say that we should be sprinkled. Ever noticed that in the Bible, baptism is full immersion rather than sprinkled.

Baptism is a commanded by Jesus.

Matthew 28 :19 -20

“Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

Notice that Jesus says make disciples of all nation (bring them to Jesus) and then baptize them. Yup, dunk em!

What does this all mean. You need to be baptized in water after you get saved. There is no other choice. Becoming a Christian is a two fold process. Taking Christ, being washed in the blood. You get baptized in water to be cleansed of your sin.


1 Cor 12:13

12 For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13 For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves[d] or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.

So what is Spiritual Baptism. Well it was predicted by John The Baptist.

Mark 1:8

“I baptized you with water; but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

John baptized in water. He knew that you have to be cleansed before anything else could happen. Jesus himself predicted Spiritual Baptism.

Acts 1:5

Gathering them together, He commanded them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for what the Father had promised, “Which,” He said, “you heard of from Me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.”

So here we see Jesus say the same thing. After baptism in water, then baptism in the spirit.

But still what is Spiritual Baptism? Well basically it is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit (in a nutshell). It happens after we have been saved and baptized. When does it happen? Well that is up for debate. Some get it when they get baptized in water, some get a a day or two later and some, like the apostles, some 50 days after Christ’s ascension, were baptized in the Spirit.

Do you need to be baptized in water to be baptized in the Spirit. No you don’t. There are many examples in the bible when they were filled with the Spirit and they were not baptized.

Luke 1:5

“For he will be great in the sight of the Lord; and he will drink no wine or liquor, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit while yet in his mother’s womb.”

Luke 1:41

“When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit.”

There are many more. So many more that I will just put the Book, Chapter and Verse down.

Luke 1:67, Acts 2:4, Acts 4:8, Acts 4:31, Acts 9:37, Acts 13:9, Acts 13:52 and Eph 5:8

Being baptized or baptized in the Spirit will not save you. The only way to be saved is through the Acceptance of Jesus and taking Him as your Personal Lord and Saviour.


“Keep Looking Up!”


Say The Word

This story is inspired by a song called Say The Word by the Christian band White Heart. I hope you enjoy reading it and please let me know what you think.


With vacant eyes she scanned the room. She didn’t want to be here. This was a depressing place and she was depressed enough as it was. The scars on her wrists were testament to that. She stared out the window. They, the birds and squirrels, were free, why wasn’t she? Tears started to well up in her eyes. She shook her head. She wasn’t going to cry.

 “Lunch time, everyone return to your rooms.” a voice said.

 She mechanically got up and returned to her cell. To her it was a cell, nothing else. The tray was slid through the slot in the door. She looked at it making her way to the tray. She could smell the food. She picked up the metal cap and looked. She took the roll and the Jello. She hated green Jello but it was better then Salisbury steak. She grabbed the milk and went back to her bed. She grabbed her name off the tag. Imia Wilson that was her name, she tucked it into her shirt pocket. Looking at the Jello and the bun she wondered how to eat them. She got off the bed and went to the tray. No knife.

 “Of course no knife, they think that we might off ourselves.”

 Imia settled down on the bed and ripped her bun in half. Using her right hand she put some of the green Jello between the bun halves. She bit down and smiled. `Not bad’ she thought to herself.

 “Better then the other crap they gave.”

 Imia ate slowly and drank her milk. She thought back to when she got here. She had tried to kill herself so many times. So many scars but no one seemed to care. She laid her head down and drifted off to sleep.


 She woke up sometime later. She sat up and noticed her tray was gone and that the door to her cell was open. Imia sat on the bed and cocked her head. She didn’t hear any sounds. She stood up and headed to the door. She was not sure if she should go out or not. She started to back away.

 “Please don’t go. Come talk to me.”

 Imia looked out her door. Sitting in a chair was a man. He was dressed what looked to be street clothes.  She ventured out a little more. He smiled at her.

 “Please, come, sit with me. I will not hurt you. I promise.” He said as he motioned towards a chair.

 Imia walked towards the chair and then sat down. She looked at this man. What she thought were street clothes turned out to be something else. It was a robe or something like it. The sash was a dark brown. He wore sandals that were made of leather and very simple looking. He had long hair and a long beard. He looked like he belonged in a time long ago.

 “Who are you?”

 “My name is Simon.” he replied.

 “What are you doing here?” Imia asked

 “I am here to help you. That is why I was sent, to help you.”

 “What are you talking about? Who sent you?”

 Simon looked at her. He smiled softly. He pointed towards her heart. She looked at him with no emotion. She thought she was loosing her mind again.

 “No this is not real. You are not real. This is all a crazy dream, nothing but a deluded dream because of my depression.”

 Imia stood up quickly and ran back to her room. She shut the door and tried to forget. She pulled the covers over her head and hid. Now she wished for a way out. She wanted to die. To her dying was the best way out. She heard noises. Uncovering her head she saw people, nurses and doctors walking around. She jumped out of bed and walk into the common room, and then she saw him. He was still here, him and his old-fashioned clothes and sandals.  He waved at her and for some reason she waved back. A nurse walked in front of her and when she was gone, he was gone. Going back into her room she saw him sitting on her bed.

 “What are you doing?” she asked.

 “It looks like I am sitting on your bed.” he replied.

 She sat on a chair and looked at him. Her eyes fell to the floor. She was so sad.

 “Why do you cry?” Simon asked.

 Imia looked up at him. She had tears coming from her eyes. She ran her finger across her wrist. Simon looked at her. She held up her arms to him. He saw the scars. The multitude of times she had tried to end her life. He could see the scars on her heart as well.

 “Don’t you understand? I don’t want to live. I have tried so many times to end it all. If it wasn’t a knife then it was a hangman’s noose. If that didn’t work then it was pills. So many pills that my body was a walking drug store, all because no one would listen to me.

“I’ve been in this place for so long that I know the nurses by name. I don’t belong in here. I belong with my family. But that would mean they would have to deal with the problems that the elephant brings with it, but they don’t. They want nothing to do with me. God doesn’t even want anything to do with Me.” she replied.

 Simon looked at the floor. He knew how she felt. He had been depressed before. He was sad when he saw his Master whipped. He had been sad when he saw his Master carry that heavy cross up to Golgotha. He watched as the nails were driven into his Master’s wrists and feet. All the while he knew there was nothing he could have done about it.

 “I do know what you are going through. I wanted to die as well, but I chose to live.”

 Imia looked at him. She tried not to laugh. He just didn’t get it. Nothing he had gone through could be as bad as what she had gone through. Nobody knew the pain she suffered. No one ever would.

 “I see. Do you know what it is like to be a girl? Do you know what it like to live with depression? Have you any clue as to how it feels to be unloved or unwanted? Well do you?”

Simon looked at Imia with eyes that had seen those things. Had he ever lived with it, no. He was not a woman so woman problems were not his problems. Love was not a problem. The love he received was the greatest love of all.

“Do I know about pain, yes I do. Do I know about women problems; no I don’t, for I am not a woman. Do I know what it is like to unloved and unwanted, yes and no?

“I know the pain of no love. My wife said she loved me but she kept having other men in our bed. My mother use to say she loved me as she beat me. Was I unwanted, no? My wife needed me to bring money home. My mother needed me because she needed someone to beat.

 “Imia, you say you have it rough but you don’t. Other people have it far worse then you do. You have tried so many times to end your life but didn’t. Think about all the people that are dying and that want the chance to live.”

 Simon got up off the bed and headed towards the door. He turned back towards her Imia with tears in his eyes.

 “You don’t even know that someone loves you more then you can know. He did everything for you. All you have to do is say the word.”

 Imia looked up and Simon was gone. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. She didn’t know why but fall they did. Imia cried for what seemed like hours. She put her head on the back of the chair and closed her eyes. The entire place was dark when Imia opened her eyes again. She looked out the window and saw the lighted clock. It read eleven pm. Her neck was sore. She rubbed it slowly feeling the pain go away. She looked to the tray and saw her dinner. She grabbed the roll and nibbled on it. She tried to figure out where she was. Then she remembered, still in the hospital. She went to her bed and slept. She did not dream.


Morning came and so did the knock on the door. It was shrink time. She quickly got dressed and then the door opened. The shrink looked at her with eyes that knew no compassion. She knew he didn’t care but only did his job. He started to walk off and she followed him. It wasn’t like she had a choice. He opened the door to the interview room and let Imia go in first. He watched as she sat down. He sat down across from her. He brought out his dinky little recorder and spoke into it.

“Interview with Imia Wilson, time is eight thirty three am. Now Miss Wilson, how are you doing?”

Imia looked at the doctor and sneered. He knew she didn’t want to be here. He also knew that she was allowing this interview because it killed time.

 “Alright, I will tell you how I am doing. I am in a place I don’t want to be in. I am locked up most of the time. I am treated like an inmate in prison. No one trusts me. People put food into my room but leave me nothing to eat with. No fork or spoon. So I have to eat with my hand. I’m not a patient, I am a dog. That is the way I am treated. Like a freaking dog!”

 The shrink looked at her. He knew that she was venting, but the lack of eating utensils bothered him.

 “What do you mean no fork or spoon? There has to be one or the other.”

 “Well there isn’t. I have never received one. Even when I ask for one, they won’t give me one.”

 “Well that is not ri….”

 Imia cut him off. She was tired of this. All the questions and all the false concern, she knew it was false.

 “Look, you don’t care about me. You are only doing your job and I understand that. But if you want to do something, then get me a fork, plastic or otherwise to eat with.”

 The shrink sat back on his chair. He looked at Imia and tried to figure her out. One minute this long haired woman was so fragile and the next she was so strong and vibrant. He wanted to know so much about her but she was being so closed.

 “Tell me about yourself. Where did you grow up? How many siblings do you have? What about pets?”

 Imia looked at the doctor. He wasn’t so bad after all.

 “I will tell you anything you want to know on one condition.”

 “And what might that be?” he asked.

 “You tell me about yourself first. If you are going to hear all about me then it is only fair that I should know all about you.”

 He nodded his head. It did seem fair. To be able to treat her he must be open with her. He smiled.

“Okay. My name is David Matthew King. No relation to the master of horror. I was born May Fifteenth Nineteen Forty Nine in Vida, Oregon. When I was five, my family moved to Steamboat, Oregon. I grew up there, went to school there and even married the town sweetheart there. After I got married I went to the University of Oregon. Then off to doctor’s school. In the meantime I had three children, bought a house and then had two more kids.

 “I have been a practicing Psychiatrist for fifteen years. I have two sisters, three brothers and both my parents are dead.”

 Dr. King looked at Imia. He had a small grin on his face. His bright eyes had a certain kind of childlike gleam in them.

 “Okay, now it is your turn.”

 Imia squirmed in her seat. She didn’t think that he would call her bluff. She sighed softly the sat up straight.

 “Okay, my full name is Sarah Imia Wilson. I was born February Twenty ninth Nineteen Sixty Eight. We celebrated it either on the twenty eighth or the first non leap years. So in fact I am only ten years old. I was born in a little town called Globe, Oregon. When I was four, we moved to just outside Portland. I grew up there. I didn’t graduate with honors; in fact I didn’t graduate at all. I have a grade eleven education. My mother and father are both still alive and I have two brothers, one sister and you wouldn’t know it because they never come to see me.”

 Doctor King watched her face all the time she was speaking. It tormented her that no one in her family would come see her. It also bothered her that she was in here. Of that there was no doubt. He wanted to help this girl but was unsure how to. She spit venom every time she talked about being here.

 “Okay I think that is enough for today. I am starting a group for those who have tried to kill themselves. I would like it if you were to come. You would get to talk to people aside from yourself and you might even make some friends. Will you come?” He asked.

 Imia looked at him. He sounded so sincere. The last doctor she had didn’t give a thought about her. He was just doing his job.

 “Well… sure, but if I feel uncomfortable I can leave, no questions asked.”

“Agreed.” he replied.

 Imia stood up and started towards the door. The doctor opened the door for her and after saying their goodbyes, he watched her walk away.  He sat back down at the table and rewound the tape. He listened to it again and again. He kept hearing the same thing. He heard desperation. All the while during the session, Imia wrung her hands. Standing up he looked at her file. He walked out and went to get some more information on Imia Wilson.


 Imia sat and rocked back and forth. She was so sad. She wanted to go home. Talking to the doctor didn’t help much. She heard knocking on the door and she tried to ignore it but the knocking continued. She got up and looked out the window in the door and saw a nurse. She had something in her hand. Imia opened the door and the nurse handed her the note. Imia took it and sat back on her bed and read it.

 “Come to the recreation room. I want to talk to you about something.”

 The note was signed `Say the Word, Simon.’ Imia quickly changed her clothes and headed off the rec room. She stood at the door wondering whether she should. She could hear people playing the dumb games. No pool table or anything like that. She pushed open the door and walked in. No one looked up except for Simon. He stood up and waved. She waved back half heartedly. She didn’t realize that she had a smile on her face.

 “Hello Imia. I am glad that you chose to come. Please sit; I want to talk to you.”

 Imia sat down across from Simon. She looked into his eyes and saw something or was it someone. She was not sure. She smiled softly.

 “Hello Simon. What do you want to talk to me about?”

 Simon shifted in his seat. He knew he could tell her about Jesus but he never knew how to start off. He quietly said a small prayer.

 “I want to help you. I want you to have peace. I want you to know that there is someone that loves you with all your scars, warts and all the unpleasant things in your life. Someone loves you. He was born for you. He died for you. He rose from the dead for you and everyone who is searching for the right stuff. He loves you with a never ending love.”

 Imia smiled. She knew that Simon meant well. She also knew that no one could love her. Not even God. One look at the scars on her wrists would stop the love.

 “Simon, thank you for your concern but no one could love me. The scars on the outside are bad enough but the scars on the inside are even worse. The emotional baggage I carry is enough to send anyone screaming into the night. I can sense that you are doing what you think is right but I am not worth saving. Do I want to be your friend, yes? But please, no more talk about love.”

 Imia got up and walked away. Simon didn’t get the chance to say anything else, He looked at the floor.

“I failed.”

 “You did not fail my child. You planted the seed and now it is time to water that seed. Show her the same kind of love all the time and the seed will germinate. I have great plans for her.”

 Simon heard the voice. He recognized his Master’s voice. He could tell whose voice it was. His Master’s voice was so gentle and full of love. The enemy’s voice was so full of vile and anger. He spit venom. Simon got on his knees and started to pray.

 “Master of all, you are the mighty God. You are the God of Israel. You are the God of Jacob, Abraham and Isaac. You are the God that parted the Red Sea.

 “Dear God of All, I planted the seed. Help me to not only water but also help to germinate it. You are the God who sent His only Son into this world so that your children might have peace and salvation and if any of your children needs peace it is Imia.

“Lord, she is so broken up inside. The scars on her wrists are not the only scars she has. She has scars on her heart and soul. She has been hurt so much by her family and friends that it has caused her to hurt herself.

 “Father, you know her pain. You know the pain of friends leaving you. You know the emotional pain she is having. Father, touch her. Let her see you in me. She needs you so much and she doesn’t even know it. She has cried out to you and doesn’t know it.

 “Lord, I am not one of those who believe without seeing. I saw you, walked with you. I talked with you and learned from you. Dearest Jesus, let me be the one that brings Imia to you, but Lord, let your will be done. I know through someone, Imia will come to know you. For Your glory Lord Jesus, Amen.”

 Simon stood up and walked out of the rec room.


 Dr. King sat at his desk. He had read and reread Imia’s’ file. So many drugs and none of them did any good. Each drug that had been tried caused so much trouble. One caused her to sleep while another caused her not to sleep. While another caused rashes and itching. He spent the next hour trying to find a drug that would work without a thousand side effects. He read about the old ones then about the new ones. He could use Valium but there was too much chance of addiction. He decided to forget about the old ones and new ones. She had never been given Prozac before.

 King felt something for this girl. He was a doctor and he had a good bedside manor. He felt compassion for people but this was different. It was sympathy. She was not a happy camper. He had to try. He got up and went to the nurse’s station.

 “Nurse Sharp, I need to change a patient’s meds.”

 “Which patient Dr?”

 “Sarah Imia Wilson.”

 “Oh yes. What is she on right now?”

 “It is one of the older one. Hold on a minute. Here is it is, Immigate.”

 “Yes, that was around when I was her age, old and outdated and too many side effects. What is the new drug?”

 “Well I want to start with Prozac. If that does not get the desired effect then we will try something else. She has been on Immigate for some long and it is not doing the job.”

 “Very well doctor. When do you want the change over?”

 “Tomorrow is fine.  I want to take her off the immigate slowly. She has been on it for so long that her body has become accustomed. We want to ween her off the Immigate.  Start at ten milligrams twice a day. See how that works for a month or so. We can increase the dosage if needed then.”

 “Very well.” The nurse replied.

 Nurse Sharp walked away at the same time as Dr. King went to see Imia. He got to her room and knocked on the door. Imia opened it and let him in. It was plain to see that she had been crying. He sat down on the chair and looked at her.

 “What is the matter?”

 Imia looked at him. She didn’t want to talk but he just sat there.

 “What if I don’t want to talk.” she said through a tear.

 “Then I will sit here till you want to talk.”

 Imia looked at him with questioning eyes. He was nothing like her old doctor. He didn’t give a flying fig what happened.

 “You are nothing like Dr. Campbell. He would pop in and ask how I was feeling then leave. He didn’t care. He put me on Immigate then just went on his merry way. You are different. You seem to care.”

 “Well Dr. Campbell was from a different era. I am here to help you if I can. Will you come to the group?”

 “Yes I will come. Maybe Simon will be there.”

 “Simon. Who is Simon?”

 “Some guy in here. He is dressed in some really old looking clothes. He keeps saying “Say the Word”. I haven’t got the foggiest clue about what he is talking about.”

 “Well maybe he will be, one never knows.  Now for the reason I came. Right now you are Immigate for your depression and from what I have seen it is not doing the job. I am changing your meds to Prozac. Let’s see how it works, okay.”

 Imia nodded her head.  She had been on so many drugs that she didn’t know one from another.

 “When will the change happen?”

 “Well Immigate has some withdrawal problems if taken off of it too quickly. So I think we will do it like this. Today is Immigate and tomorrow is Prozac. Then next day a lower dose of Immigate, then the Prozac and so on and so forth. In a week or so you will be off the Immigate completely and on the Prozac full time. We will see how that goes. Clinical depression is not an easy thing to control. So we take it one day at a time. Okay.”

 Imia nodded her head. She didn’t have the least bit of understanding of what he just said, but he was the doctor.

 “Whatever you say, you are the doctor. You know more then I do.” She replied.

 “Good. I am not like your old doctor. He was more concerned about medication where I am more concerned with recovery. That is why I started the group, so that you and people like you could have a release valve. To talk to people that actually know what you are going through. Tonight after dinner will be the first group. I will see you there?”

 Imia looked at the floor the back at King. She nodded her head then put it down on the pillow and was soon asleep. King left quietly and closed the door. He walked down to the nurse’s desk and looked for Nurse Sharp. He found Nurse Sarita. She was a short Latino woman with striking blue eyes. She looked up at Dr. King and smiled.

 “Yes doctor, may I help you?”

 “Yes, can I get the chart on a Simon? I don’t have a last name. Maybe you can help. Look him up yourself or get someone else to find all the files of all the men named Simon. Imia Wilson talked about meeting a Simon wearing weird clothes. She said she met him at least twice. I would like to speak to him if he exists. You can reach me in my office.” King replied.

 King left and went to his office. He settled down for a long read. Imia’s file was rather thick. Seems Dr. Raymond made lots of notes but nothing else. King shook his head slowly as he read. He lifted his head when he heard a knock on the door.

 “Come In.”

 The door opened and Nurse Sarita was there. She had nine folders in her hand.

 “These are all the patients named Simon. There are nine of them. I checked them out. None of them seemed fit the bill.”

 King took them and quickly scanned them. He looked up at nurse Sarita and smiled.

 “Thank you. I will show these to Imia. Maybe one of them is the one.”

 Nurse Sarita nodded and smiled. She opened the door and left. King picked up one of the files and started to peruse it then heard another knock.

 “Come.” he said.

 Nurse Sarita opened the door again. She smiled her sweet smile at him. She passed him another file.

 “There is another file. I wasn’t sure if I should being it or not so I left it. This is it. The patients name is Nicholas. But according to the file he goes by Simon. According to the file he believed himself to be Simon the Zealot.”

 “Simon the Zealot?” King answered.

 Nurse Sarita looked at him. She nodded her head.

 “You don’t know your Bible do you Dr. King?”

 Doctor King shook his head. He was not up on something he had no use for.

 “Simon the Zealot was one of Jesus’ disciples. He was a hater of Rome. He gave up his hatred to follow Jesus. I know this sounds crazy but this man died five years ago. There is no way she could have seen or spoken to him.”

 “I see. Well I will show her the picture of him. Maybe she dreamed it.” King replied.

 Nurse Sarita nodded again. She opened the door and did not return. Dr. King looked at the file. Nicholas Richardson, He was admitted in nineteen fifty four for schizophrenia.  He was twenty one when he was admitted and he died in nineteen sixty six at the age of thirty three from heart failure.

 “Hmmm, she must be dreaming.” King said to no one.


 He poured over Imia’s case for what seemed for hours. He got to know her inside and out. Her parents came to see her very infrequently. He siblings never came at all. Not counting this term on the ward, Imia had been here eleven times starting from when she was seventeen. She had tried to kill herself twelve times. She had two abortions, three miscarriages and one still birth. She has one living child that she has never seen since the child was born. Her husband left her after the last child was still born claiming that it was her fault.  That is when she had tried to kill herself for the eighth time.

 King got up shaking his head. He went to the doctor’s lounge. He found a seat and slowly drank the coffee he had just got. He was waiting for someone to come in. As if on cue, the person he was waiting for came in.  He waved at him. The doctor joined him.

 “What’s up David?”

 “Well Bob, I have a question for you. Do you know Imia Wilson?”

 “You mean the Suicide Queen?”

 David looked at him, “What do you mean `Suicide Queen’?”

 “Well she has tried so many times to kill herself that she should have set some kind of record by now. Look don’t get me wrong, I think it is awful what has happened to her. But trying to end your life is just calling out for attention.

 “I realize that she has never had her siblings here to see her and as for her parents, well they don’t seem to care much. But that is still no reason to try to kill yourself. It is just an attention getter saying `look at me poor pitiful me. I am so messed up. No one loves me, no one cares about me, and no one likes me.’ Please if she were to just give it a rest and get on with her life then maybe we could all get on with ours.  For to try so many times to off herself and still not succeed, well she is not doing it right.”

 Dr. King looked at Bob Jackson. He stood up and just shook his head.

 “A trained professional and that is all you can come up with. Where is your compassion? My word, you can do better then that. I pray that the next person who tries to end their life doesn’t end up with you as their doctor.”He said as he walked away.

 Dr. King made his way back to his office. He shook his head and softly giggled to himself. What a jerk. He arrived at his office to see Imia sitting by it.

“Hello Imia, what can I do for you?”

 “Nothing, I just thought we, well, we could talk for a few minutes.”

 King opened the door. Imia looked in and then sat on the nearest chair. She tried to curl up but was unable to. King made mental note of that.

 “What is the matter?”

 “Well I just talked to my mom.”

 “Oh that is good to hear. What did she say?”

 “Well I asked her if she was coming to see me soon. She just laughed. She said that if she wanted to see a nut all she had to do was open a can of them. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach.  I just wanted to die. I cried and she just laughed.”

 Dr. King put down his pen. He looked at a girl that had already been through so much and now to put this on her. No wonder she wanted and tried to end her own life.

 “I am so sorry. She should not have said that. Would you like for me to speak with her?”

 “If you want to but she won’t talk to you either.”

 “Fine, I will call her tomorrow. Now as for today, would you talk about it in group?”

 “Yes, if you like.”

 “Good then. Group is in about ten minutes so we can walk down together. While we are walking I want to show you some pictures. I want to see if you recognize anyone. Okay.”

 Imia nodded her head. She liked Dr. King. He listened to her. They walked down towards the conference room. He showed her the pictures. She shook her head at all of them. She didn’t recognize any of them. He opened the door for her when they got to group. There were other people there. Imia scanned the room looking for Simon but she didn’t see him.


 “Welcome to group people. My name is Doctor David King. When we are in group, first names shall be used at all times and straight talk only here. You say what you mean. You may call me David. So let’s get started. Who wants to go first?”

 A man stood up. He was tall with short brown hair. He hid his hands as to not show all the scars. He looked weather beaten like life had been beating the crap out of him. His face was lined with creases.

 “HI, my name is Robert George. You can call me Bob. I am a clinically depressed person. I have tried to kill myself twenty five times. The last time was three weeks ago. I put a razor to my arm and then stopped. I was going to slice open my veins and bleed myself dry. I put the razor down and then booked myself into this place. I call it the Loonies Shangri-La.”

 Bob sat down and another person stood up. She was tall with long black hair that had been braided. She pulled down her sleeves to hide the track marks on her arms. She held her hands in such a way to hide the razor marks on her wrists.

 “My name is Ruanne Jolan. You can call me Ruanne. If we become friends, I might let you call me Ru. I tried to kill myself as well. That is why I am here.”

 Ruanne sat down and one after another the rest of the group stood up and gave a name and a brief reason why they were here, most of them for the same reason. They had all, in one way or another, tried to kill themselves. Suddenly it was Imia’s turn.

 “Hi my name is Sarah Imia Wilson. You can call me Imia. I have also tried to kill myself. Twelve times I have tried and twelve times I have failed. If it wasn’t drugs then it was razor blades. If they didn’t work then a noose. I even tried to kill myself by sticking my head in a gas oven. Unfortunately for me, the gas had been turned off earlier that day. Someone or something always stopped me.”

 Sitting down, Imia wiped tears from her eyes. She looked at the floor. No one would want to talk to her now. She has revealed all of her flaws and her scars, even one or two that no one knew about. She had showed the imperfectness of her life. She shouldn’t be here. She was nothing. Standing up to leave she looked at the floor.

 “Wait girl, where do you think, you are going?” Ruanne asked.

 “I’m leaving. I don’t belong here. I am a failure. I deserve to die.” Imia answered.

 “Oh yeah, you deserve to die. Is that what you think? You think that you have it so bad. Look here.” Ruanne ripped up her sleeves to reveal her arms.” You think I got these by doing embroidery. These are track marks from needles. I’ve been trying to kill myself since I was nine. If it wasn’t heroin then it was cocaine. It didn’t matter my drug of choice. If I could inject it then I used it. Now you sit your butt down cause honey, you belong here. You need to be reminded that if for nothing else that you are not the suicide queen.”

 Imia sat back down. She looked at Ruanne and then at the floor. Dr. King stood up and walked to the door. He closed it again then looked at Imia. Tears flowed down her face like a dripping tap. He was about to speak when a knock came at the door. He opened it to find Simon standing at it. He looked at King then walked into the room. He stood in front of all of them then sat beside Imia. She looked up and then latched onto him. He held her close for a minute then gently pushed her away.

 “Say the word Imia.”

 “What word? You keep saying that but you don’t say what word.”

 Simon stood up. He smiled but was frustrated. He looked at the rest of them. Ruanne looked at him.

 “It’s you. You came to me and said the same thing.”

 Simon smiled and nodded his head. He nodded his head at each one of them. They all looked at him.

 “Look, two thousand years ago a man came to take all your sins and carry them to Calvary. He didn’t do it because He had to. He did because He wanted to. This is the same man who cried when you tried to kill yourself. Each one of you, even you Dr. King. “

 King looked at him. He tried to figure out how he knew.

 “No one knows about that, no one.”

 “One person knew Doctor. You might ask yourself, each one of you, why He cries.  He cries because He loves you. He cries because whether you know it or not, you are His children. You cry out to Him every time you try to end your precious life.

 “Now I know I must sound like a madman and you would not be the first. But what I tell you is the truth. God loved you so much that He gave His only Son for you. He did it because it was His plan.

 “Jesus didn’t have to die but He did. He didn’t have to bear all that pain and shame but He did. He knew what He was doing. He looked down through time and saw the pain that the world was going to go through. He died to take the sins of the world upon His shoulders.”

 Imia stood up and walked over to Simon. She looked into his eyes. She could see the truth in them. He spoke the truth and he saw in her eyes that she knew.

 “Jesus wants nothing to do with me or them for that matter. We are all damaged goods. Too many times we have tried to kill ourselves. No God in heaven or anywhere else would want us. We are just not worth saving.”

 “That is where you are wrong Imia. You and the ones like you who are sick are the reasons that Jesus came. People think that Jesus came for the healthy. He didn’t. He came for the sick. The sick just like you. Just like the rest of you. He even came for the one that has no use for the word of God.

 “All you have to do is say the word and Jesus will dwell within you. He will enter your heart and start the work that will make you into the being you should be. Drugs and drink will not help. Death will not help. Only the Son of God can help. Only He can give you the freedom that you crave. I will be here if you want to know more.”

 Simon walked over to the nearest chair and sat down. Dr. King looked at him with a perplexed look on his face. How could he have known what he said? How could he have known that he had tried to kill himself all those years ago?

 “Simon, this group is for those who have tried to commit suicide, if you don’t mind.”

 Simon stood up and walked to the door. He turned around and looked at the group.

 “He is yours for the taking. All you have to do is say the word.” Simon walked though the door leaving the group looking at each other.

 Imia looked at the floor. If her own parents wanted nothing to do with her why would God. She got up and went to the door. She looked back then went through. She found Simon sitting in the chair by the door. She sat next to him.

 “Why would Jesus want anything to do with the likes of me?”

 Simon looked at Imia and touched her face softly. He had a tear in his eye. He looked at her. She looked into his eyes. She saw a man. His hands were stretched out. She could see the scars on his hands. They looked like they went right through. He smiled at her. A tear ran down Imia’s’ face.

 “You saw Jesus didn’t you?”

 Imia nodded her head. She started to cry. The tears wouldn’t stop.

 “Say the word Imia. Say you want Jesus. Say the word.”

 Imia looked at the floor. She wanted to but was afraid. She was ashamed. She had tried so many times to kill herself.

 “I don’t know.” she whispered.

 Simon lifted her head and smiled, “Those who come to Jesus don’t know that is what they want until they do it. They fight and fight and then they take Jesus. All of a sudden they forget why they fought. They have let the barrier down and let Jesus come in. Jesus cleans house and takes out the trash. After He is finished, there is nothing left but the love He gives.”

 Imia sat and looked at her arms. The scars and the pain they pain they caused. The fact that they showed that she had tried so many time to end her life She looked back into Simon’s eyes and saw the man again. She saw the scars on his hands again. She cried openly. She looked at Simon and nodded her head.

 “Yes I want Jesus. Help me.”

 Simon smiled. He took her hands then heard other voices. The rest of the group were standing at the door. Each one of them had tears in their eyes. They gathered around Simon and Imia.

 “Please kneel with me.” Simon said.

 They all kneeled with Simon. Dr. King was there too. Nurse Sarita came over and put her hand on Kings’ shoulder. She put her other hand on Imia’s’ shoulder. She joined them as Simon led them through the sinner’s prayer.


 Three Years Later

 Imia sat in her office. She was getting ready for group. She talked to one of the girls in the group. The girls looked into Imia’s’ eyes and saw a man. He was holding up His hands showing her the wounds on them.

 “Who is that man in your eyes?”

 Imia looked at the girl and then smiled softly. She looked at her own scars.

 “Say the word.”

 Imia got up and walked with the girl to the group room. Walking in Imia smiled and started to talk.