GodToday

Eyes of Walls
By Brian Reinicke

Dedicated to the Lord Jesus Christ, who through all my life has been the one true never-failing constant He didn't turn his back on me, I turned my back to Him.

Lightning streaks across the sky illuminating the landscape. Small, middle class suburban houses line a quiet street made of well-worn concrete. Rolling thunder is the heartbeat of the town, accompanied only by the never ending sound of rainfall. Nobody would dare go out during such a storm like this one, so they all are happily in their homes watching the evening programs on the TV. The people stare at desperate actors, selling out their morals to bring humor to the citizens of the nation, while sitting in well worn furniture. Thunder claps again outside. The people are safe, inside their homes. Their homes provide warmth, their TV's and music provide entertainment, and for some, the entertainment lies in one another. Outside, the storm rolls on, pounding down upon their cars parked along the roads. Lighting strikes again, now revealing a lone figure staggering down the middle of the deserted road. He glances out of shear paranoia at the surrounding houses. Their walls bearing eyes, staring him down. He falls to his knees, longing to enter their comfort, but he cannot. The Eyes squint in a pleading fashion. He stares directly into them. He can read the thoughts lying behind those never ending stares. "Come, enter us and become warm. Laugh at our entertainment, indulge yourself in pleasure. Come, stare closer into my Eyes and see what the people inside me are doing, don't you wish to do the same?" plead the Eyes of the Walls. "NO!" the man screams, "leave me be!" He climbs back to his feet and presses on. Staggering around, he keeps his eyes locked onto the drenched pavement. He would rather live a lifetime of being cold and wet than follow the beckoning of the Eyes. He is searching. Something is missing, and he is searching. He runs harder. Slipping to the ground, a few stones stab sharply into his forearms and the pavement gnarls into his brow upon impact. He yelps in pain and lays there for a moment. He rolls onto his back and stares into the oncoming pellets of rain. The rain. Cold, freezing. Each drop feels like a knife stabbing into his body, as it slides down across him, mixing with blood from his wounds, and tears from his eyes. The onslaught of the blades continue to penetrate his body. He looks to the side where the Eyes continue to plead. "Come, join, live warmly and easily." They beg. The man looks at his bleeding forearms, and touches his injured brow. He rises to his feet and limps to the door of a nearby house. The door was like a mouth, situated between two Eyes, looking at him. The mouth gaped open and revealed a woman. She looked him over, and smiled. She took his hand and begun pulling him in. The man closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the house, and the softness of her touch. Security was found inside the walls, and it felt good to his body. Upon reopening his eyes, he looked at where the woman was, only to be faced with a forked tongue, wrapped oh so smoothly around his hand. His eyes darted around, as the furniture turned to teeth, and the hallway became a huge throat pulling him in. Screams emit from his mouth, only to be reverberated off the saliva covered walls enclosing around him. The mouth had not shut, something was blocking it. The storm blew, and howled like bloodhounds chasing after a shot duck. He fought to try to free himself. He tightly closed his eyes and upon reopening, there was the woman again. Her delicate hand holding his, as she pulled him to the living area. He looks around to see Eyes on the walls staring at him. Passion burning in them, they are telling him to go forth and enjoy. A radio in the other room is echoing messages of sexual freedom, and the TV in the room is broadcasting a violent drama. The woman says, with a gleam in her Eyes, that she can heal the wounds upon his body ... in return for some favors. The Eyes tell him to go for it. If it feels good, do it. He started to succumb, but then jerks away. He looks at the Eyes, they grow wide in frustration. The man runs. He burst from the house, as the teeth collapse behind him. Cold, icy daggers once again plunge into him. This time, the man runs, and does not stop. He runs up and over the hill running perpendicular to Main St. in this town. He runs. He runs to the edge of town, constantly being watched by the Eyes. They scream at him, that one man alone is foolish in this storm. He runs out of town, into the rural farmland encompassing the community. Even out here, the Eyes stare at him from farmhouses and barns that dot the landscape. Their Eyes glowing. Some Red, some White, and some Blue, they all stare at him. He runs far. He does not know where this strength to press on is coming from. His forehead throbs, his forearms ache. He sees a woods ahead. Lightning crashes. He crawls through thick barracks of thorn bushes. They scratch down his back, ripping clothing from him. When he emerges, he is shirtless, and his back is torn like jagged ribbons. The rain spits upon him, it's cold icy saliva. He weakly pushes on. He emerges into a clearing. He squints at the bright golden beams of beauty, cascading down from the sky. He looks around and sees others emerging from the forest. They all have wounds similar to his own. The sky pours truth like it were sweet honey, tantalizing the mass' taste buds. As they close in on one another, their wounds begin to disappear. The torn clothing form into garments of blackness. He looks upon his garment, and sees blood dripping onto it. He tilts his head back, to see a huge shower of blood pouring from the sky. It only lasted for a moment. The blood feels like the most relaxing, soothing shower ever experienced in history. The truth then comes once again, and the blood stained clothing fades into garments of pure white. He feels a tug coming from below, to see a lamb, tugging at his robe. The lamb walks away, towards the woods. The man follows the small animal, as it shows a way around the thorns. The rain ceases as he enters the town. The Eyes upon the walls widen at him. Some look at him in fear, others in hate. The doors spew out words condemning him. Most doors no longer welcome him, however others are matched with Eyes that look at him in curiosity. Golden breath from the man tickles those doors that welcome him, as those people too experience the changing garments. Night falls upon the city, and now he is not alone. He no longer fears those Eyes, and stares into them in challenge.

(and now for my message) My fellow Brothers and Sisters of Christ. I know we have all heard the crucifixion story, and could recite it with no problem. However, have you ever put yourself in Christ's shoes? Imagine right now, the police were to come to the door, cuff you, and shove you in the back of the cruiser. Upon arriving at the police station, they drag you to a cell where you are stripped naked in front of a bunch of guards. They all mock you, and spit on you. They dress you in a humiliating outfit, and press a sharp crown of thorns upon your head. A crown of thorns, woven by a member of the very community you love. A crown of thorns made from branches that are young enough to bend, but matured enough to bear seemingly razor sharp needles. The needles bury deep into your flesh, and your are partially blinded by the blood running across your eyes. The police throw you to the ground where they whip you with a barbed whip, that rips strips of flesh from your back. Every time you cry out in pain, they kick you down. They then strip you naked again and tie an extremely heavy, jagged, splinter infested piece of wood onto your back. They make you march down the main St. of your town, naked, with this block of wood on your back. The splinters grind into the open lashings on your back, as the sharp corners of the wood cut into you even more. Just as your about to pass out from excruciating pain, someone comes along, and takes up the wood for you. When you arrive at the center of town, they throw you to the ground. They lay you atop a cross, and they hold a nail just above each of your forearms. The police man looks at you in the face, mocks you and spits at you again as he brings the hammer down upon the nail. The nail pierces your skin, and rips through the tendon fiber of your forearm. It chips against one of the bones, as it passes between them, just before they rip through more muscle and skin and then entering the wood. This happens again on the other arm, and then through your feet. Your raised before the entire city. People cheer you, and jeer you. All this in front of your family, and neighbors. You hang there for a day, where a guard comes along and stabs you in the torso and you die. My brothers and sisters, we cannot heal the wounds upon Christ's brow. We can't remove the nails from his limbs, or mend the spear wound in his torso. All we can do is help mend his broken heart by leading our fellow man to Him. If you all are truly Christians, you have to acknowledge the wondrous things He has done for you, and in turn we must spread this news to others. Grow to have a passion for Christ, and strive to live as sinless as you possibly can. Be sure not to rationalize away things or feel you can do something and then just ask for forgiveness. Habitual sin is mankind's greatest enemy. You give up things that may feel good on the surface, but you gain things that feel wondrous to the soul. Do not just walk away and say "yeah yeah, this isn't anything I've never heard before" but instead, open your heart to the Lord, your Mind to your heart, and your mouth to others. In the story the Eyes represent society. We must not conform to the pleasures that society says are good, but instead seek the rugged road and brave the storm to find the true peace. Only then, will we live. We will then know the truth, and the truth will indeed set us free. But only if we Rejoice in the lord, and let our faith be evident to all! Do not lie to your fellow man. Lies come in all sizes, but all boil down to being deceiving. Overcome temptation, and cast it out. Listen to your fellow man. Offer advice, but only when needed. I definitely know that sometimes you just need someone to listen AND hear you, but not give you some fortune cookie advice. Parents, the line "do as I say, not as I do" is a very non-Christian thing to say. We are called to live in the example of Christ. So what are you telling your children not to do, that it's perfectly okay for you to do? If you are living in Him, what part of living in Him are you telling your children not to do? If you have not accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior, please, I beg you to. Good Day, and God bless you all. In his most Holy and Precious Name I proclaim these things, Amen.

Your friend, brother, and equal in His name, Brian James Reinicke. a sinner, striving to know Him.

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