THE ROOM 17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class.The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," helater told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thingI ever wrote.." It also was the last.Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it whilecleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School. Brian had beendead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life nearthem-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus ina file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life.. But it wasonly after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son haddescribed his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to shareit. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving homefrom a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway Countyand struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on adowned power line andwas electrocuted. The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraitsin the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meantto find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She andher husband want to share theirson's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. Iknow I'll see him."Brian's Essay: The Room...In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. Therewere no distinguishing features except for the one wallcovered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries thatlist titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, whichstretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, hadvery different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch myattention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flippingthrough the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized thenameswritten 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 andcuriosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly openingfiles and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others asense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to seeif anyone was watching.A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." Thetitles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird"Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I HaveLaughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness:"Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I HaveDone in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." Inever 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 Ihad lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each ofthese thousands or even millions of cards? But each cardconfirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed withmy signature.When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized thefiles grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yetafter two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed,not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that filerepresented.When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through mybody. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing totest 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 ragebroke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No onemust ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroythem!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn'tmatter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one endand began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge asingle card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strongas steel when I tried to tear it.Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning myforehead 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." Thehandle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on itshandle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. Icould count the cards it contained on one hand.And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. Theystarted in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. Icried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of fileshelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No onemust ever, ever know of t his room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But thenas I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as Hebegan to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch Hisresponse. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw asorrow deeper than my own.He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read everyone? Finally He turned and looked at me from across theroom. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn'tanger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands andbegan to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have saidso 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 theroom, He took out a file and, one by one, began to signHis name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I couldfind to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His nameshouldn'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 withHis blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to signthe cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it soquickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walkback to my side.He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and Heled me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards tobe written. "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For God soloved the world that He gave His only son, that whoeverbelieves in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." If you feel the sameway forward it so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My"People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?
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This is deep!
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?
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http://www.breakthechain.org/exclusives/theroom.html
You Idiot...
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What the fuck? How was I meant to know that? I got it in an email, read it, and thought it would be good to put here becuase some people might find it interesting? I hate chains anyway. This site looks good. thanks for the heads-up
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Because that kind of crap is always a chain letter, and it's always bullshit.People are so goddam gullible.
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alright, settle down. d00d got duped by something that seemed nice. No crime in that, it's a learning experience.
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What's to hate? It's a good piece of writing, whether he go it in an e-mail or not. Why does it matter where he got it from?
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In reply to:
What's to hate? It's a good piece of writing
I agree... it doesnt matter where it came from. its a good piece of writing... you should look past the author and try to understand its meaning
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If it said This is fiction at the top, it wouln't be so bad...then it would just be chain mail spam. But it's actually a lie; it's manipulative.
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i guess so...
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That was rather interesting, who gives a crap if it was bullshit?
This made me laugh though :smile: :
"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."lol, utter BULLCRAP, all you yanks are religiously obsessed.
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Not all; mainly our political leaders and folks who live in the interior and South.
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Yeah, shame you guys are all tarred with the same brush, I'm sure some of you are OK
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some of us are "OK" how kind of you
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What's wrong with religion? To be able to share a belief with others who feel the same way is a great thing, as long as people remain open and accept other people's beliefs. The only thing I can't stand is people who refuse to be open to outside opinion, and will never stop to consider what another person has to say.
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I'm a born and bread Catholic and believe that the socialist teachings of Jesus were truely amicable and applaudable. It's when religion BECOMES a religion to people if you get my meaning where I dislike it - fundamentalism basically.
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The problem (for the sake of this discussion) is that religion and government are getting so wrapped together in the U.S. The second amendment to the Constitution (about the government not establishing a religion) seems to be weakening.If you're not a Christian, it really sucks to have politicians regularly telling you that you live in a Christian nation.Robert I. Sherman, interviewing George Bush (W's father):In reply to: What will you do to win the votes of Americans who are atheists?"GB: "I guess I'm pretty weak in the atheist community. Faith in God is important to me."RS: "Surely you recognize the equal citizenship and patriotism of Americans who are atheists?"GB: "No, I don't know that atheists should be considered as citizens, nor should they be considered patriots. This is one nation under God."RS: "Do you support as a sound constitutional principle the separation of state and church?"GB: "Yes, I support the separation of church and state. I'm just not very high on atheists."George W. Bush also believes that only Christians can get into heaven.
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In reply to:If you're not a Christian, it really sucks to have politicians regularly telling you that you live in a Christian nation. that son of a .... bush.... annoys the hell out of me with all that christian morals stuff too... and I'm a christian... he is a smear on the already hurting record of christians In reply to: George W. Bush also believes that only Christians can get into heaven. thats just the view of a close-minded man... I know i completely disagree with it
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I know i completely disagree with itEven W's parents disagree with it!
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It's so true, that fundamentalism ruins the image of a lot of Catholics. I'm personally not catholic, although I wouldn't call myself an atheist either. I'm really not sure what to believe in right now. I have trouble with blind faith, because I feel like I need something behind it to support it. But honestly, the existance of god looks just as likely, or sometimes more likely, than him not existing when looking at how things are the way they are. (a previous thread involving primarily me, Last, F22Fighter, and later on SteveA led me to take a more open approach to this sort of thing)
Sorry if I sort of missed your point on the first post that I responded too.
