15th Dec 2012, by Timothy Tai-
There’s a famous line in a Beatles’ song that goes, “All you need is love… Love is all you need.”
Or as Rihanna sings in one of her more recent songs: “We all want the same thing. We all want love.”
But what is it about love that we all want it so? And why do we all have such a strong and innate desire to love and be loved? I surely didn’t know the answer back during my college days but all I knew was that I was constantly on the look-out for the one. You know, the one girl of my dreams that I would want to spend the rest of my life with. The one person who would love and accept me for who I was, pimples and all. And even though I had been through a few really REALLY bad breakups by then, I still had not given up on finding the one. In fact, it came to a point that almost every cute girl in college was potentially the one.
I would see a beautiful girl in class one day and I would go and tell my best friend, “She’s the one! She’s going to be the mother of my children!”
Then a few months later, I’d see a cute girl in another class and I’d declare to my best friend, “She’s really the one this time! She’s going to be the grandmother of my grandchildren.” (Mind you, I would never have the guts to approach them so I would mostly just admire them from afar.) And that pretty much summed up my years of unsuccessfully looking for love in college.
Until one day, a friend of mine put a book in my hand and told me to read it. The title? “I Kissed Dating Goodbye.” I made fun of the title at first but I found myself reading it one day and it completely changed the way I viewed love and relationships. I won’t spoil the book for you but here’s an excerpt from the book that impacted me the most. It’s a vivid dream that the author had one night and he was so deeply shaken by it that he grabbed his computer and typed away.
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed."
The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger," "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.
I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
By Joshua Harris. Orginally published in New Attitude Magazine. Copyright New Attitude, 1995. You have permission to reprint this in any form. We only ask that you include the appropriate copyright byline and do not alter the content.
After I read that, something just clicked inside me and it caused me to truly question myself: Why have I always been looking to people for love when Jesus is the one who has always loved me all along?
Maybe you’ve tried looking high and low for love but you just haven’t been able to find it. Why don’t you try looking to Jesus? The Beatles’ almost got it right in their song. They should have sang, “All you need is His love…. His love is all you need.”
Dear Viewers in Christ, if you find this article edifying to you, please share with your friends or loved ones by using the social media plugs (Share, Email to this article). The Lord will surely bless you as you bless others. May the Lord’s peace and love be with you. Amen.
Disclaimer: The views or opinions expressed by the columnists are solely their own and do not necessarily represent the views or opinions of Christianity Malaysia.com
References for pictures:
http://www.centralaz.edu/Images/recruitment/Early%20College%20Picture%20(cropped500px).jpg
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ESSlXC-ZVuY/TG83DxxmHoI/AAAAAAAAAOE/oXbbctBTwC4/s1600/files%2520copy.jpg
http://media-cache0.pinterest.com/upload/245798092132567168_nRhJFTSu_b.jpg
http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/note%20card
http://sherrysheartbeats.homestead.com/files/man_kneeling_before_Jesus2.jpg
http://files.myopera.com/Melroy/albums/831188/Jesus%20hugging%20a%20man.jpg
http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m68ela4liG1rwibjgo1_500.jpg
.jpg){kind=link}
Leave a Reply