Sandy Wells: My Inner Voice
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New Clothes For Old

3/24/2015

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Michael groped his way, stumbling and falling across mounds of trash bags, finally collapsing on what felt to be an old mattress: shoulders hunched, legs crossed, unleashed tears coursing down his face. Unwelcome visions flooded his mind: his precious daughter, his wife, their love, his failures, their trust, his betrayal, and too many fights. They deserved better.

The night was dark, save for one lone security light high above the pungent mountains of discarded trash. Massive black silhouettes with threatening clawed arms stood eerily in the distance, their booming voices silenced during the black of night. Tomorrow, with the light of day, these mechanical monsters would once again roar to life, but tonight they stood silent vigil. The only witnesses to all this night held.

The stage was set. The black veil of night-hung heavy like a mantle of death. Stars hid from view. The very breeze fell still as if holding its breath. Death crouched watching, waiting; its never ceasing wails of despair echoing within his ravaged mind. Tonight, the wails would finally be silenced. Tonight, Michael would find peace among masses of waste.

“ I’m so sorry, I just can’t do it anymore,” Michael cried, as he shoved his hand into his jacket pocket: grabbing the rubber hose, and syringe of death. “Don’t think about it just do it,” he growled. His hands were so cold. And why wouldn’t they stop shaking? Again his daughter’s face came into his mind. Her precious smile, her sweet voice singing, “Jesus loves me.”

He had once believed those words: a lifetime ago. But Jesus couldn’t love him. Not the way he was now. Yet, in one last desperate moment, the moment between life and death’s cold embrace, Michael did wonder - could it be true?

“I don’t know if you’re there Jesus, and I don’t know if you even care. But if ya’ do, please forgive me for what I have to do. And help my family to forgive me,” Michael prayed, before lining the needle up with his vein: something he could, and was, doing with eyes closed.

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“Michael.” The voice was soft, yet rumbled like thunder, casting despair and death further into the shadows with hideous shrieks.

“What the…” Michael’s eyes flew open. The still full syringe fell from his hand. “It can’t be. No…no, who are you?” Michael stammered, fighting for breath.

“You know who I am Michael. Even now in your hour of pain you cried out to me.”

Michael gasped, hot tears spilled down his cheeks. “It can’t be. Lord no, don’t look at me,” He cried, covering his face with his hands. “ I’m nothing but garbage Lord. I don’t deserve your love.”

“I died for you Michael. I took all your sins, all your garbage, into me on the cross. Michael, my blood has made you clean. You are my beloved.” His voice held no anger, nor contempt: merely love.

For the first time Michael dared to look into the face before him. “Oh Lord,” Michael sobbed, as he looked through a haze of tears, into the eyes of love. This couldn’t be real. He had to be dead. Yet he knew he wasn’t. “Wha…what’d you want from me Jesus?”

The Savior knelt and opened his arms, inviting Michael to crawl into their fold. “I want you to live Michael.”
Michael collapsed into the arms of Christ, tears once again pouring from his soul. Tears of shame, regret, and humiliation: slowly became tears of a life being healed, a soul saved, and a spirit set on fire.

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With the last tear spent, Michael sat up straight. His eyes looked down to a pile of burnt ashes lying beside him. He caught the Savior’s eyes with a silent question. “The ashes are your old clothes Michael. They were the clothes of a dead man. You now wear new clothes of life and salvation. The old Michael has passed away, you are a new creation, and you are deeply loved.”

Michael jumped to his feet just as a new dawn broke over the horizon in all its glory. Spreading his arms wide he spun in circles, the joy of the newborn coursing through his veins. “Thank you so much Lord,” Michael shouted as he spun full circle. But the mattress was empty, save for him.

“I love you Lord.” Michael shouted into the heavens, before turning his face toward home, singing “Jesus loves me.”

With one final shriek, death cowered deep into the mountain’s foul shadow, as the light of a new dawn lit the sky, and Michael's song danced upon the breeze.


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Jesus Wept

3/11/2015

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Two words. The shortest verse in the Bible: John 11:35—“Jesus wept.”  Jesus’ friend, Lazarus was dead. Both of Lazarus’ sisters, Martha and Mary had voiced the same words to Jesus: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Mary had fallen to His feet and lay there weeping. “When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. ‘Where have you laid him?’ he asked. ‘Come and see, Lord,’ they replied.”

“Jesus wept.”
 “Then the Jews said, See how he loves him!”

The Bible notes three times in which Jesus wept: As Mary and the Jews wept because of Lazarus’ death; For the Holy city Jerusalem; and at the Garden of Gethsemane before his arrest. Three times we witnessed through the word the agony and grief consuming Jesus’ heart.

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To cry—to weep—to sob; are they the same thing? For me, personally, they are different. All involve tears, obviously: But to what degree? We cry for many reasons. We may be sad or angry, frustrated or physically injured. Children may cry because they didn’t get what they wanted, these tears are associated with temper tantrums. I may feel like crying while going through times of unending trials. Yes, we cry for many reasons.

 Weeping, however, (in my opinion) erupts from deep within our hearts. We also weep for many reasons: intense grief; loss; betrayal and agony. Weeping hurts. It tears at our hearts and souls, right down to our guts.

 Sobbing, in my opinion, and experience, may be a combination of the other two. Hurt, anger, frustration or a physical injury or illness, which continues for too long, can cut to the deepest part of our hearts, right down to our guts. When this happens we sob. Sobbing to me is physical. When I sob my body shakes, I gasp for breath, I may even pound on the bed. Sobbing involves my entire body. It is exhausting.

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John 11:35, says, “Jesus wept.” These were tears of anguish, of sorrow. Did Jesus weep because his friend, Lazarus was dead? No. Jesus knew exactly why Lazarus was allowed to die. Jesus knew that in a very short time his friend would be resurrected from the dead. Lazarus would walk out of the tomb, which had held his dead body for four days so that people would believe and God’s Son would be glorified.
Then why did He weep?

I believe Jesus openly wept for all to see because of the all-consuming love He has for us. He felt the sorrow of those around him, and this sorrow grasped his heart and his spirit.

 “He was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.”

 “Jesus wept.” Two moving, gut wrenching words.

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    Author

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    Sandy Wells was born and raised in Western New York. To be more exact, she lives right in the heart of farm country, where cows rule and clothes are still hung on the line to dry. Sandy has held a love for writing in her heart since she was a child. Over the years Sandy has written poetry, short stories, as well as monthly inspirational articles for her church newsletter. She has had articles published on Faithwriter’s.com, and has participated in the Faithwriter’s writing challenge. Sandy believes the written word holds power. Power to make you laugh, cry, learn and grow.

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