I don't know what got into me, but I decided to submit an entry to Scribbit's Write-Away Contest this month. Check it out below, and then head on over to Scribbit's and check her out, too!
Your time has finally come, and now you stand in heaven, about to be held accountable for the actions in your life. Scenes from your existence flash around a screen before you, slowly settling into place for all to see. You notice that some of those images have vibrant colors, others are simply shades of gray, and more are so dark that you can barely make out the image.
In curiosity you ask God, “Why do they look so different?”
Two images move forward, giving you a closer look. “Look at the one on the left,” God suggests. “Do you remember that day?”
You glance at the photo and grin. You were ten years old, cheeks flushed red with anger. The soft pink ribbons flowed gracefully over your chestnut hair. Blue eyes like your daddy’s shone with intensity, as you were obviously upset with the other child in the picture.
“Yes, I do,” you chuckle. “Annie Wilson called me a nerd. I was so mad at her!”
“But you didn’t stay angry, did you?”
“No, later she told me that she only said that because I made a better grade on a test than she did and she was jealous.”
“So you forgave her?”
“Sure. She said she was sorry!”
“Now look at the one on the right.”
Your smile fades as your eyes come to rest on it. The image is very dark and hard to see, but you can see enough. “That’s the day Susan Carter stole my purse. I still can’t believe she did that. I was her best friend!”
“But didn’t she return it, and also apologize?”
“Yeah. But I was so hurt and mad that it didn’t matter. I never spoke to her again after that.”
“So you never forgave her?”
“No. I guess I didn’t.”
“What you didn’t know was that Susan was being abused by her father. She took your purse because she wanted to run away, and needed money for a bus ticket. She was too scared to follow through with it, and too ashamed to tell you what was going on.”
You listen, though it’s hard. Swallowing past the lump in your throat you ask, “Why are you telling me this now?”
“You wanted to know why the photos look so different. The photo on the left has been colored with Forgiveness. The one on the right has not.”
His All-knowing eyes look deeply into yours, and suddenly you understand.
Your eyes dart back to the images from your life. There’s the day you gave your coat to the homeless lady on the corner, tinted with shades of Compassion and Giving. You see several images reflecting Kindness, Patience, Love – proof of the presence of Christ in your life.
Many images are nearly solid black: times when you were so far removed from God’s will that others couldn’t see Him in you at all.
Most of them, though? They are simply gray. Lukewarm. Mediocre.
When your time has come, and you’re looking back over your life with God, what colors of Christ will you see?