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This is a story

Updated: Jul 21, 2022

I know this is a little unordinary but allow me to share with you a story. it's not a traditional story. it's based on experience and observation. I want you to read this and look at yourself. remember your past or realize your present. Yes, this is a short story but I want you to harbor every word and feel the words that are displayed below. I know I can relate to this story. can you?

Internal bout

Plop. It was the sound my blood made as it transferred from my nose to the ground. That man's fist actually hurt. It burned my skin like ice to a thumb and I was fed up with his abuse. First my mother, then my sister, now me. How many people does one have to violate to feel powerful? He was truly weak. Or was I the weak one? His were the fists that obliterated glass, his were the feet that broke ribs, and his were the words that broke hearts. He was the strongest coward I had ever faced in the ring of life. It’s like we live in a world where the battles constantly strip away our hope and for me, I always face the same opponent, myself. How could I accept his ugly grin as he whipped me across the face with undeniable strength and balled fists, I couldn’t. And he never leaves me alone for long. Every now and then I hear his footsteps climbing up the ladder to my head and I try hard not to rear up and scream. WHY AM I BURDENED WITH MYSELF!! My past continually haunts me and I have nowhere to escape. He is with me. I heard somewhere around the town that this man named God/Jesus was with certain people always. Why not me?

I’d walk around a church and hear people crying “GOD WHY ME?!!!” While in my head I’m still fighting the same man who killed my hope, my chance to be a part of something again.

“GOD WHY NOT ME?!!” I wished I could cry. But every time I picked up my jaw it was slashed down by another ruthless blow. Every time that man got stronger and stronger. I should’ve given up but I couldn’t. I had hurt others and myself long enough and…bloop. Another drop of blood ran down my chin as I opened my already broken jaw and screamed in the church,


I braced for another blow, why had I not fought back? Why was I cowering like a fool? Who am I to call out for help in a time like this?! I truly was the weak one.

I could feel the wind shift for a second and I expected the brutal blow to connect with my ribs but no, this wind was one familiar with shockwaves. Someone had either taken the blow from me or caught the fist.

Opening my eyes was the hardest, something excruciatingly bright was illuminating the originally dark arena of my mind.

“Who are you?” I asked

“You called to me and I answered, I am the one who was at the door knocking when you spent your time fighting.”

“Why didn’t you just come in?”

“You had not asked or granted me access until now. I have been there for quite some time but you were always in the heat of battle so you never heard me.”

“…Thank you.” What else was I to say? This man had saved me and vanquished the enemy right before my eyes. He did not swing his fist but caught mine, drawing me into his light. My darkness and I had become one in his light, I would no longer fight that battle alone because I had and have help.

When I woke up my eyes were spraying with tears and my words were different. Later I had a mic in my hand repenting for the sins I had blamed on my darkness. And I was washed in the waters of salvation and made whole officially. Acts 2:38. Then Peter said unto them repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sin and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.

Although my pursuit was out of order it held true for the rest of my life living for the one who saved me from myself.

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