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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Black (10/15/09)

TITLE: Black-hearted Christian
By Genuine Suede
10/19/09


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I am a Christian with a black heart.

I have a hard time being open about my faith. I fear the cocked brows and sly remarks, the strange smiles that mock my faith and worse yet, my Redeemer. Something inside me dies a little more each time it happens. I hurt for myself, for my own soul that has once again been sliced--but I hurt much more for my Christ who willingly sacrificed himself for them; their rejection and scorn is what He gets in return for the horrendous death He suffered. I know He forgives them; They donít understand. And I donít know the words to make them. I seldom try now; I keep my faith tucked away in a pocket where I can feel it warm over my heart, safe from stones and stares.

I love God, and I am a Christian--a choice I am deeply proud of--yet I cringe at the label. It has become stained and ugly over the last 2000 years. I am ashamed of myself that I feel this way; I should be proud. But I donít want to be associated with those who take the same name, who pin their faith to a religion that I donít agree with and to rituals and behaviours that Christ himself wouldnít approve. These believers and I have nothing in common, and yet the stain covers us both. I want them to find a different name; I am judged because of them, as being one of them.

I hate that I care what people think, how that hate weakens me and removes God from me, that I give people the power to do that to me. And for that, I am ashamed.

I asked Jesus to save me when I was eight. But in all the years since, I have not learned to love, not the love one is supposed to feel toward his fellow man; that is not something that I know. I cannot seem to love the way others can. Iíve tried. Some days I think I do. And then it fades, and I know I didnít love; it was merely just the mood. And my heart withdraws a little further, shrinks a little tighter, having failed yet again. I feel helpless to stop it.

I want more than anything to be a beacon for the lost to follow, a soft shining light that leads others to my Lord. But this is not the case. Most times, my light is dim, hardly seen at all beneath my carefully shrouded lamp. Sometimes I am moved; I remove the cover and let it glow, brightly even. Perhaps, too brightly... Sometimes I swear my light repels, instead.

Why is that? I cry out in the dark, my pillow soaked with tears after another
endless night of soul-searching. I donít understand. God! Why wonít you change me?


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This article has been read 346 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Ruth Brown 10/22/09
You can feel right along with the writer. Well done.
Charla Diehl 10/22/09
Your MC comes across as a troubled soul whose pain reaches the reader.
c clemons10/22/09
Boy, I hope this is not based on someone you know. Obviously the writing was good because it drew the reader in, the content however was the saddest thing I have ever read. Ashamed to be a Christian? That is truly sad. Christianity is not an outward thing, it is personal intimate and it's because of that intimacy others are drawn because they want what we have. Remember the saying; Be careful how you represent, you may be the only Bible that someone reads.
diana kay10/23/09
good writing and a very emotive peice.
Mildred Sheldon10/25/09
Such a sad story. I hope it is not a true story because if you feel ashamed by what others think how can you be effective for the furtherance of the Gospel? It is not about us but about God.
Jan Ackerson 10/27/09
Thank you for seeing so transparent with your emotional and spiritual struggles. The honesty in this little essay is sharp and biting.
Mark Bell10/28/09
the inner dialogue is clear. the inner heart of the MC is plain. i think every Christian has gone through this at one point or another. i can totally identify. nicely done.