| Pride of the Faithful | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 21 2008, 06:02 PM (96 Views) | |
| ChristianRoman | Jun 21 2008, 06:02 PM Post #1 |
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sVo Champion
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So I did it. I won the match. I claimed my victory. Made Him happy all the way around that He patted people on the back and said "That's My boy!" For once, He seemed to be proud of what I had done. But I knew it wouldn't last. I knew He wasn't satisfied. He never is. I still have to prove myself - to show Him one more time this upcoming week that I'm living up to being Chosen. It's never enough. There's always something else; and always some ulterior motive that drives Him, and thusly, drives me. I'm His passenger. I always will be. You know what you're up against this week, don't you? "I've heard about him. He's strung together a couple of victories; making a name for himself. Reminds me of me when I was younger." But he's different. "Of course he's different. Everybody's different. You should know that above everyone else." I'm only trying to push your buttons, don't get too edgy on Me here. "Too late." Well, anyway. I just hope you're prepared for this week. This one is no easy task to complete. "What do you mean?" This one isn't a believer. "There are a lot of people that aren't believers, You know. Not all of us can sit around and uncover the mysteries of life and philosophize about You. Plus, it's not everyday that You go poking Your head into someone else's business like You do mine every so often." Fair enough. I'm only trying to give you fair warning. Don't say I didn't tell you so. "I don't need Your help. I can do this on my own, You know." And you have been. And you've been doing an excellent job of it as well. But don't get in over your head this week. "I won't. Don't worry. You worry too much." That's My job. "It's starting to annoy me. I can take care of myself, You know. I was taking care of myself long before I met You, and I'm still taking care of myself. Look what I did last week!" Pride is an enemy that you must look out for, Christian. You should know this by now. "It's not pride; it's confidence. After last week I know what I'm capable of - and I know what needs to be done. If I can do what I did last week, what is stopping me?" Me. I will stop you. Never forget that. I have the power to do with You as I wish. I alone can control your every action and emotion. I alone can make you powerful, or powerless. Don't upset me, Christian. Do not think that You can do this on your own. "And why wouldn't I? What if I can do this on my own?" I gave you everything. I can also take it all away. Crash. A brisk breeze. You love the cool air and the way it feels running through your long hair and against your heated body. After toiling all day at the factory, it's a welcome feeling up against your almost always sunburned skin. You never could tan. You sigh as you look down at your arms and notice the blotches of red. You were outside for lunch, and that was it. You thought it would be nice to take a bit of a walk when you were done with your morning duties, eat your packed lunch under a tree that's a mile or two away. You loved that tree. Not only is it in a perfect spot to block out the sun, but the leaves are always a shade of green that you could never find on any other tree. But it wasn't just the perfect setting, or the color of the leaves on the tree; it wasn't the view, that showcased the sprawling valley or hills; nor was it the fact that you were isolated from society and could really think about things out there. No, it was more than that. But you couldn't quite put your finger on it. You knew there was something about that locale that made it almost timeless and secure, that nothing human could ever corrupt this part of nature. It was more than beautiful; it was more than perfect. It was heavenly. You walk along the path towards your home, trying to clear your head along the way. You don't like bringing work home, regardless of how insignificant the problem is. It's not her burden, it's yours. She shouldn't be trifled with at any time. You glance around at all the houses on either side as you march slowly down the center of the lane. Cars honk at you and people yell, but it doesn't matter. You're in your own world right now and nobody can remove you from it. Nobody but her. You wish your life was a bit more pastoral, but this urban setting will have to do for now. Until you get your promotion, which should be coming shortly. Until the little one comes. You walk through the town and towards the end of the road, where it quickly becomes a dirt road. You smile now; you know you're almost home. She must have heard you. She comes out through the front door and wipes her hands on the innocently white apron that's covering her simple blouse. You pick up the pace now, feeling as if you'll never get there. As if you'll never be able to touch her. And that's all you want to do. You notice the bulge in her belly - you could swear it's gotten bigger since you left this morning. The sun is setting over the horizon, over the hills, creating a purplish hue in the sky. You smile as you approach her; she returns with the same toothy grins. It was heavenly. You cross the threshold into your dwelling with your arm locked around her. It's a simple setting; a wooden table with two chairs, a stove and a sink. The walls are bare except for a single painting - your pastoral setting, complete with hilly fields and dandelions as far as the eye can see. You stare at it for just a moment, smiling at the fact that one day that will be all yours. She leads to your seat at the table and puts a plate in front of you, pouring on to it a stew that was boiling on the stove. She was always an excellent cook. Regardless of custom, you always wait for her to sit down and take her own food as well. You find it rude and inappropriate to eat without her - to eat before her, considering she was the one prepared your supper. You let it linger on your spoon for awhile as the heat billows off in smoke. She smiles at you and wipes something of your lip with her hand. She always took care of you. You needed her; probably more than she needed you. She was the one that made the ultimate sacrifice to live with you - to be with you. Your family didn't matter. You could handle them. But her - it was a different story. She must have really loved you. She pats her bulging stomach and smiles. You look at her as she's doing so, watching her long wavy brown hair float as a breeze picks up through the windows. She notices you looking and gives you a sideways glance and smile. You can't help but laugh. It was heavenly. "I'm not afraid anymore - of You, I mean." You were afraid of Me? "Who wouldn't be? Who couldn't be? You do know what mean to some people, right?" What do I mean to you? That's what matters to Me most of all. "You're who I turn to in my time of need. But that doesn't change the fact that other people do the same - why me? I want to know." Why do you want to know? All of a sudden - I feel like I'm being interrogated. "Maybe you are. But I'm curious to know. Why me? Of all people? And don't say that it's because I'm the right one for the job, or because I have the painful history that makes me the perfect victim to manipulate. Don't say anything like that!" You leave me no choice. Those were my two best answers, you know. "Oh, I know. You don't have to tell me twice. But come on - out with it. Why me? Why not someone else who believes - other people believe more strongly than I do, You know." No, I know that. Other people believe on faith alone - you were like that for awhile, but you lost your way. You needed something else. "Like what? What else did I need?" A good kick in the ass, for starters. "I appreciate Your honesty. But in all seriousness." I don't have an answer for you. "Why not? I thought You were supposed to know everything? I thought You were the person that would have all the answers to life's mysteries - and here You are telling me that You don't know? Are you serious?" What do you want me to say, Christian? That I chose you because you're easy to manipulate? That you're life had taken a downward spiral? You know these things already. "I just thought that were would be something more than the painfully obvious." There is, you just don't know it yet. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" There's a greater good here, Christian. And you're involved in it. You just need to be patient - something that I know is very difficult for you. "You're damn right it does. I want to know!" The time isn't right yet. You need to continue your work - you need to convert the unbelievers. You need to show the power of the Lord to William Voorheez. You need to show him what the Lord can do - what He can give, and what He can take away. "How do I do that?" Tell him your story; show him your story. Her skin looked like porcelain. Clear as a cloudless sky and smooth as well. You nestled up against her under a blanket in your bed, feeling your body touch hers. You run your rough hands down her soft arms, eliciting a pleasure from knowing that there isn't something more soft or innocent in this world. You smile once more as she looks up at you with pale green eyes that are always looking and searching for something - answers, perhaps. She wraps her arms around your neck as she pulls herself closer to you. You feel her bulging stomach pressed up against yours and you can't help but think of the little one on the way. Images of the future race through your head. One of you teaching the child how to ride a bicycle; another of the child sitting in a highchair with food all over its face; another of the child learning to swim with you being there to guide it along. All the things that you remember from your childhood plus more. You think of what your child will look when they grow up, and who, if anybody, they'll look like. You haven't a name yet, but she feels that naming it after your mother would go over well - she always liked your mother's name. You never knew why. The wind passes through the window and flutters the curtains that are in place. You look up for a moment and survey the room. Simplistic and plain, it houses merely a bed and a window with curtains. There's a dresser in the corner where your belongings are kept; a closet takes up the other side of the room where her wardrobe is. She said that she didn't need one - she didn't have enough clothes to warrant such a huge piece of furniture, that surely, the little money you had saved could be spent elsewhere. But you wouldn't hear it. You thought it made her more of a lady - if she had a place to keep her things. Not that she wasn't a lady of course. But still. It bothered you that she had nothing of her own. You wanted it for her always, especially since the first time she saw it. Looking at it longingly through a store window, knowing that she could never afford it. You had saved on your own - you had stopped going to the pub so that you could save. She didn't know. She thought that you were staying home to be with her because you were anxious of her being alone and with child. And you were. You really were. But that wasn't the sole reason. You wanted her to feel more human - more like a woman. You wanted her to feel alive. "My story? What does my story have to do with anything?" Then he'll know the truth. "He doesn't need to know the truth, does he?" Everybody needs to know truth - everybody needs to feel alive at some point or another. Everybody needs to know that they're not being lied to. "Like how You're lying to me right now?" What would give you that idea? "I don't know - it seemed like the right and appropriate thing to say. Isn't it the truth though?" I would never lie to you. "I don't believe that for instant." I wouldn't. How could I show you? "By letting me see them. And by showing me that You're a man of Your word." I never said that you would be able to see them. If anything, it was the opposite. "See, you're lying right now! Why are they the ones? You show me everyone else - but not them." Because then you would be useless to me. "Why do you say that? If anything, my faith in You would be restored and greater than before." But it wouldn't be faith then, Christian. It would be something else. Faith is believing and not seeing, not seeing and believing. Anybody can do that. Only a few can have faith. "Am I one of those?" Considering you lost your way until I returned to your life, that's a tough one. Let's call it even. "Wait, what?" You didn't believe until I returned - but you still hold some faith in there. There still is a part of you that believes that through Me you will find salvation and everlasting glory. "But I don't care about any of that garbage. All I want to do is see them again." But you can't - and yet, you still have trust and faith in Me and what I can perform. "If You say who You say You are, why wouldn't I?" Why would you not? It all happened so quickly. You didn't know it at the time. She was having a contraction; her water broke inside St. Mary's. You weren't paying attention to her - for once. At her time of need and instead, you were paying attention to you prayers. To think that spiritual matters overshadow those of the flesh. That's what priests will tell you; that's what you learn at mass - but it's never the truth. She needed you and you weren't there. The story of your life from this point on. But you're trying to change that. You've been working your entire life to change that. You almost slipped on the water when you stood up and moved towards the door. You had come out of prayer and sensed that was something was wrong. Her body heat had comforted you before, but now it felt dreadfully cold. Your spine tingled and your muscles tensed, as if someone was sliding ice cubes down your back and they became tangled in your shirt. You couldn't find her. You frantically looked around the church - you knew what had transpired only seconds earlier and you silently cursed yourself for praying and not being more observant. You looked towards the door and thought you saw a glimpse of her wavy hair in the window on the upper part of the oak door. You loved her hair. You loved her. This is that point in the story when Christian stopped believing. This is that point in his story - his life - when he stopped everything. Timelessness. We were all stuck in time at that point. People were stuck in their motions and only Christian moved. He ran towards the door as fast as he could, but it didn't matter. It was too late. It was over. She was gone. They were both gone. And now it was only Christian. He was the only one left. It's not a matter of why it happened, it's not even a matter of how it happened. Everybody knows the story. It's more though - it's more of a matter of why this event paused time and took control at that very moment. It was a perfect moment in the world - a simultaneous act of the beginning of new life and the ending of life. It was too perfect - and that's why it was wrong and could not exist. That's why time stopped, why Christian did what he did. All of his life has been an obstacle. It's not because he chooses to make things difficult or because the dice have rolled poorly in his favor. It's because it's always been uphill - it's just the way it is. God chose him at this very moment - at this very perfect moment where his faith shattered into a million shards of glass. He became something else that day - someone else, for that matter. But he denied it. It didn't matter to him. His calling was forsaken at that point in time - he didn't care. He wanted something else. He wanted her. She was all he cared about. But God only cared about him. William Voorheez is a menace to the world, Christian. He is the reason why people like you exist. "I understand." He believes that he can see the dead - the afterlife. As if they would return for him. As if they would come and waste their time on a creature of his stature. There is nothing extraordinary about him. But there is about you, Christian, and that's why I have chosen you for this task. "Let me understand. Let me know everything I need to know." You alone are the one that is qualified to speak to the afterlife - you alone are the one who speaks with Me. Your power is unparalleled; insurmountable - no man, no mere psychic who has visions of the past - can ever amount to you. "What has Voorheez done?" He has believed in something other than the Lord, Christian. He has encountered, or so he believes, stray elements of the afterlife. People, he believes - people who will show him a path that he has not discovered yet. "Why must he be destroyed?" Because he represents what is wrong with this society - what is wrong with this culture that has been developed. A dwelling on the past. And a falseness at that. He believes that these demons, he calls them, will provide him with the key that will unlock his own mysteries, as well as those of the world. He must not succeed. He is being lied to. "But You said that he couldn't. That it was all a hoax." Christian, there are things in this world that cannot be explained to you - things in this world that people attribute to another; another who represents what is wrong and evil, and all that makes people suffer. If William Voorheez continues on his misleading path, he will encounter this enigma and unknowingly release him into the world one more time. It is your task to stop him before that happens - to show him the true meaning of the Lord. "But why?" Because he is nothing more than confused. He believes what he wants to believe, what helps him and furthers him. He will look far and wide for the answers that he seeks, and will conduct himself in a way where he is vulnerable and a target for those who are evil. There are those that look for travelers such as William Voorheez. "I must show him the Mercy of the Lord before it is too late." By showing him the Sword and the Power of the Lord. He will learn - he only needs the right direction. His answers await him, but not where he is searching. "I will show him the truth - the true path of the Lord. I will give him the answers he needs to confront the Lord. I will not fail as I have done before." Rise and face thine enemy. The glory of the Lord awaits you. |
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8:37 AM Jul 11