[Child of God]: 416.Short Stories.Temptation

The climax subsiding, I removed the device slowly and switched it off. The pleasure I had just experienced was quickly being replaced with disgust as I wiped it clean with a cloth before placing it back in the drawer beside my bed.
'Why do I go through this every night?' The dismal question burned in my mind again this night. If felt as though an unseen hand was squeezing my heart as I sat huddled on my bed. 'I try so hard to fight these urges, yet I'm always over-powered. Why? Am I really so weak?'

For months I have been fighting this addiction. What first started it? That’s right, it had been that movie I accidentally downloaded. I knew I should have deleted it once I had seen what it was, but I was curious. It was only a movie after all, what harm could it do? I’d just delete it when I’d finished, no harm done.
Or so I had thought.
Once exposed to the material, I was hooked. It fascinated me, excited me. I knew it was wrong, despite what other people said.

“It’s healthy.”
“Everyone does it.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

‘Nothing to be ashamed of huh? Then why do I always feel so dirty after the fact?’ What can’t I be like other people and not care? Hugging my knees to my chest I closed my eyes. It’s because I’m not like other people, no matter how much I sometimes wish I was. I can’t ignore the dirt on my hands, the guilt on my conscious or conviction in my soul. I made the choice to be set apart, to be different. I made the promise to be set apart, to be different. I made the promise to not go along with the crowd, but rather to do what has been shown, and what I have accepted, as being right. I made that choice, no one but me. So why am I struggling so much now? Why now am I longing to conform when I have been transformed? Why can’t I conquer this? Sliding under the covers, guilt, frustration and despair grew heavier on me.

‘I can’t pray tonight. Not when I’m so dirty.’ I’m not worthy to come before God like this, not when I know that what I’m going is so wrong. What am I going to do when I have to stand before God and be accountable for this? ‘What could I possibly say? ‘Sorry God but the consequences didn’t matter at the time. It’s over and done with anyway so couldn’t you let me off the hook on this one?” I’m sure that will go over well on Judgment Day?’
I could feel tears coming to my eyes. How could I possibly be useful to God when I can’t even overcome this one, simple thing? How can I even think of calling myself a child of His?

‘I’m worthless in God’s eyes.’
‘I don’t deserve to come before Him.’
‘I don’t deserve to be called a Christian.’
‘I should just give up.’
‘I can’t win.’
‘Just give up.’
That’s right, I’ll just give up. Save myself the heartache. I don’t even know for sure there is a Judgement Day, do I even know for sure there is a God?
‘Great, now I’m even questioning my faith! I really am a horrible Christian.’

It must be God’s fault! After all, He created me and since He’s omnipotent and all knowing, He knew this would happen. I have no control over this then! ‘It isn’t my fault, it’s Gods so He can’t hold me accountable for something I have no control over!’
There! I’m completely justified.
Problem solved, case closed.
Closing my eyes, I tried to push the matter from my mind for the time being and sleep.

‘You didn’t pray.’
My one eye cracked open as I groaned. ‘I just went over this. I don’t need to apologize for something I have no control over.’
‘And who said you have no control over it?’
“If I had control over it, I wouldn’t be having this problem to begin with now would I?” I angrily snapped, sitting up.
‘You have control over how you handle the problem.’
“Aughh!” Flopping back into in to the pillows, I could tell I wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. “Great! I’m keeping myself awake by arguing with myself! I think I have bigger problems than this addiction!”
‘Funny girl.’
“Thanks.”
‘So what are we going to do about this?’
“I don’t know, what are ‘we’ going to do about it?” Now I’m referring to myself dually! Can this get any better?
‘What are WE going to do about this?’
“What can I do about it?” was my bitter reply. “I’ve tried deleting the movies, blocking the sites, deleting the fake email addresses, throwing out the device, praying before bed . . . but none of it worked. I only re-download the movies, unblock the sites, make new emails and but new devices. Then, I feel too dirty to pray. Tell me, what more can I do!?”
‘Try asking for help.’

My eyes shot open and I again sat up. “I couldn’t do that! Who could I tell? Who could help? Who’d want to help? I mean, I’m just a failed Christian after all, too weak in my faith to help myself. No one wants to help a failure. Besides, what would people say?”
‘Talk to the person who already knows then.’
Sweat began forming on my trembling hands. “Someone knows? Who cold possibly know? I never told, or even hinted to anyone, of my problem.”
‘Have you ever thought of asking ME for help?’
I almost laughed. “Asking my conscious for help? Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?”
‘Some call me the conscious. Others call me the Teacher, The Spirit or, most commonly known as God the Holy Spirit.’

“. . . Now I know I’ve lost it.”
‘So what if you have? I’m offering advice when you need it. Until I tell you to start killing people and sell their babies on Ebay for pig feed filler, you’re fine.’
“Selling bab . . . “ Shaking my head, I decided not to even try and find where that thought came from.
‘Will you listen to what I am trying to tell you?’
“Sure, why not? I’ve got nothing better to do at two fifteen in the morning.”
‘Glad to hear it. First off, why do you feel you aren’t worthy to come before me?’
In response (to myself ironically enough) I pulled the device back out and held it out.
‘What is that?’
“Funny ‘Spirit,’ you know exactly what it is!”
‘I asked you to tell me why you FEEL this way.’
“Because I know it’s wrong in God’s eyes, yet I still keep doing it! Because I’m too weak to overcome this addiction! Because I’m so weak I even question my own faith!” The device broke as it hit the far wall. “I’ve asked for help yet it always happens!”
‘Everyone doubts, it’s called being human. Look at Doubting Thomas, as history so affectionately remembers him as. Every person in the Bible has doubted at one point or another. Adam, Abraham, Moses, David, Elisha. There was even a person or two who tried fighting with me.’
“Bet that went over real well.”
‘You can read about it you know, all the accounts are in there and more. I’ve heard it’s not a bad read.’
I chuckled slightly and shook my head, still not believing I was having this insane conversation with myself. “Really, I found it a bit boring personally, but to each their own I guess.”
‘I really recommend reading it. Anyway, that’s a topic for another day. Back to the main issue: what makes you think you’re so special?’
My mouth dropped at the question. I was a Christian wasn’t I? Doesn’t that make me special?
‘Everyone struggles with their faith, it’s part of being human. That’s one of the reason’s it’s called faith, because you don’t know it for sure you only believe it to be true. Even if you feel to know it to be true, belief and knowledge are still doubtable. Its ok to doubt, so long as you keep believing despite the doubt. Your heart is secure in the belief because it knows it to be true, only your mind is troubled by the doubt.’
“That’s true.” Came my reluctant admittance. “Guess if I am crazy at least my voices give me good advice.”
‘Hehe. Who knows? I just may know what I’m talking about. There’s also a difference between doubt and despair. You despair because you feel you are too dirty to come before Me. Do you think I’d reject you if you tried to come to me?’
“I . . . I don’t know. I mean, there’d be every reason to.”
‘You’re right, there is every reason to. Before and now. But, if I haven’t rejected you before, what makes you think I’d reject you now?’
“Maybe You’re, I mean, maybe He’s sick of my constant sin and failure. I’m sure there’s only so much even He can take. What if He just gets fed up with me one day and sends me packing?”
‘My child,’ the warmth and love in the voice startled me slightly. ‘I love you and will never leave you nor forsake you. You never really loose until you stop fighting. Just because you’ve lost a few battles doesn’t mean you’ve lost the war.’
“No but it would sure help moral.”
‘When you don’t feel like praying is when you should. When you feel too dirt to come before me, let me make you clean. You are my child. I may get mad at you but I’ll always love you.’

I was silent for a bit, thinking over what I was just told. I knew in my heart that everything that was said (or thought) was true, but my mind was having a hard time processing it.
“It just seems so hopeless.”
‘Let me give you hope.’
“I’m not strong enough”
‘Let me give you strength.’
“I can’t win this.”
‘We can win this together.’

Tears again came to my eyes as I bowed my head.
“I’m sick of this. I don’t want this.” Came my whisper. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t want to go through this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore!”
‘All you have to do is say the words.’
“Father, I want your help! Please, I’m sorry! I can’t do this alone. I need your hope, your strength.” Unable to hold the tears any longer, I broke down. “Please God, help me.”
‘There you go hunny. Now was that so hard? Go to sleep now, you’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.
Sliding under the covers again, I dried my tears. “Why?”
‘You didn’t think I’d let you off the hook that easily did you? You’re still in trouble for what you did. You’re about to find out what a REAL grounding is, Heaven style.’
I cringed, not looking forward to find out what that meant.
‘Oh, and one more thing.’
“Yes?”
‘I love you child. Goodnight.’
Smiling slightly and with renewed hope, I closed my eyes. “Goodnight Father.”