The Imaginarium of J.M. Adkison

Happier Tomorrows

Published by J. M. Adkison under on 11:48 AM
Alright, so I gave another chapel lesson today and I surprisingly spoke pretty well for having been sick and under the weather-though it was all mental weather considering it was a very nice day that day. The last time I was really quiet and my voice was awful. But today I used voice inflections and added a lot of soul into my sermon. The talk was cooking inside my brain while we were in Southern Italy, staying on the majestic shores and watching the sun rise on the land of romance. Needless to say, I was inspired.

So here it is...

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I was walking along a road one day. It was an absolutely gorgeous road, made with yellow bricks and lined with emerald-green trees. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and my soul was just…happy.

Then, as night began to fall and the sun dropped out of sight, taking its warmth away with it, the road lost its yellow sheen and the trees became cold skeletons, surrounded by dead leaves.

The path became rocky and cracked, easy to stumble over and dangerous to cross. I fell so many times, but I continued to pick myself up, I continued to keep my eyes on the bright light at the end of the road.

But then the path turned from broken bricks and stumbling stones to red-hot coals, smoldering intensely before me, a stretch of pain and heat standing between me and Paradise.

I was already so tired, already so broken, already so tested, but I tried anyway. I took a step onto the hot coals, my foot and my soul screaming out in pain. I took another step, my heart felt ready to shatter.

I had already come so far, come so near. The prize was closer, but still so far. This was not the bed of roses I told it was. This was not the happy life I was told would be my reward for obedience. With every step I took, my faith slowly smoldered down to ashes.

Then I heard it, a soft giggle from among the trees, a clash of coins rolling into a golden pile, the trickle of delightful drink gurgling in a far stream, a sound of applause to the calling of my name, a whispered promise for happier tomorrows.

I turned my head and looked into the cold, dark, skeletal forest. I saw a beautiful woman in a red dress, beckoning me with a seductive smile. I saw piles of gold and dollars towering higher than the trees. I saw a stream of bubbling beverages, full of good times and no worries. I saw the flashes of paparazzi cameras, yearning to capture my face. I saw the promise for happier tomorrows.

My feet were scorched and tired, my soul was so tested, and my heart was ready to break, and I needed a reprieve, I needed an escape. This was not what I thought it was anyway, it was too much for someone I had never met.

So I stepped off the path.

I chased after the woman in the red dress. I grabbed at the money littering the ground. I drank in the delightful drink. I did what I had to in order to get my fame. I believed in the promises for happier tomorrows.
And for a time, it was blissful, it was happy, it was free. And the narrow, hard path was far behind, out of sight, out of mind. Life was good and I was living it up.

But the whole time I was empty. The whole time I was cold.

The lady in the red dress turned out to be nothing more than one night stands and dirty magazine pages. The money became dried leaves in my hands and was taken away when ever the wind picked up. The fountain of good times and no worries was a poison that numbed my brain and left me always dying of thirst. My fame lasted for only a few minutes and I was nothing more than so-last-year. I found that this forest of happier tomorrows was really a forest of guilty yesterdays.

And I was lost. I was cold. I was empty.

And so I wandered through my self-pity and sickly sorrow, waded through my mire of dirty pages, fake monopoly money, empty beer bottles, and own shame.

And I was empty. And cold.

And that is when I called his name. I called his name, weakly at first, then a shout at the end.

And he came. He was there in a flash. He was bright, happy, and warm. The cold fled away in his presence. The sorrow became happiness when he smiled. My emptiness was gone at his touch.

He pulled me out of my shame, out of my mess, out of my cold. He pulled me out with nail-pierced hands, hands that had been pierced for people like, for the ones who wander among the skeletal trees, who lose themselves within their own messes, for everyone else.

He guided me out of the forest and back to the path, back to the road of hot coals, and then he picked me up, put me on his back, and walked across the coals for me.

How many times have we heard this sermon? How many times have we learned this lesson? How many times have we heard countless other allegories?

How many times have we actually believed in it?

This walk we call Christianity is not always a bed of roses, or a yellow brick road. Sometimes it is a length of hot coals, ready to cook us alive.

And when the going gets touch, sin slips in, it offers us a break, a reprieve, a happier tomorrow. But once it gently takes your hand, flashes you a beautiful smile, it puts a noose around your neck and a black bag over head. And goes in for the kill.

Which is why we have to stay on the course and we have to be strong. Because tomorrow never comes and sin always breaks its promises.

Philipians 3:12-14 says…12Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. 13Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

We are living in a long-distance relationship with God. He is in Heaven, we are on Earth. And sometimes we forget that Jesus died to make that long-distance shorter, to help us be nearer, even if that means picking us up and carrying us across hot coals.

So live for him, not for a guilty pleasure or quick-fix fortune. Be like Paul and don’t look back, keep your eye on the prize, never look back, because there are only guilty yesterdays behind you. But in front of you, at the end of this road called Christianity, is a golden today that will last for all eternity.

1 comments:

Anonymous said... @ April 28, 2010 at 2:19 PM

Beautiful. I wish I could have been there to hear you actually speak.

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