The House - Moving In (Part 1)

I decided to write this short story based off of a quote from Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. where God is coming to live in your house. Though, I took my own view on it and will post it in a four part series.

Part 1 - Moving In

I always believed that the choices I made in my life wouldn't haunt me in the end. Though, this was the worst kind of illusion. Each decision, each choice I made took me down a deeper and darker path. It had a minor slope at first, nothing too noticeable or slippery, and going down it was as easy as...walking. The accumulation of the miles I walked led me to the inevitable place, a place that I perceived as the bottom of the worst part of hell. The sorrows, the fear, the pain and sin overwhelmed me. There could not be a way out or redemption for a person such as me...or so I thought.

Had it not been for that friend in my life, the one person that gave off a light which cast shadows in the darkness, I would have been stuck in this wretched place forever. He had given me hope where there was none. All he told me was that I needed to accept the free gift of salvation found in Jesus. I way out? It can't be real I thought to myself.  I had nothing to lose so I grasped a hold of this hope with all my remaining strength, closing my eyes and waiting...for something. Then the unexpected happened, I felt as if I was being dragged out from my own hell so fast as if someone had put me on an elevator to the top of the tallest building. You know, the ones that make you feel as if you are shooting up into the clouds at the speed of light.

The path I took to accept Jesus into my life brought so much joy and love which I had never experienced before. I was a new man and forever changed. Butterflies filled my stomach at first as I knew that my life would be different, but I had no idea what to expect. Part of the deal, which I did not at first realize, was that Jesus said he was going to move into my house. What kind of deal was this, I thought? Couldn’t he just stay in his place and I in mine? Well, no matter how weird it seemed at first, I had made the decision to follow Him, so if this was part of the deal, then why not give it a try? I was a free man for the first time in my life and away from the horrible darkness I had put myself in.

I anxiously waited for my new guest to arrive. It was the first time anyone would stay for even one night at my house. I felt proud of my cleaning.  Any clothes lying around were tossed into a neat pile, hidden within my closet. My shoes were not in order, but all of them were stacked to the side, making it easy to walk into the house. I had done my best to vacuum, at least around the furniture. No point to move them. Even the bathroom felt clean for once as the most basic stains were wiped with some paper towels and water. Yes, I was definitely smiling ear to ear, knowing that any guest would feel that my house was clean and livable for the first time.

I expected he would bring with him all he needed for moving in, but as I saw him walking towards my house from a distance, all I could see was…him. There was no baggage, no moving truck, and no possessions of any kind. Who was this man? He seemed to come without a concern for the material things that his world requires. I had no idea how he connected with his friends without a cellphone, an essential need in this life. Well, if he wanted one, or anything else for that matter, he would have to buy it himself. There was no way that would I share.

Here he was, ready to move in to my place, all smiles and welcoming, as if he had been waiting for years! He just ran up to me and gave me the biggest hug. If this was how nice he was in person, the deal of us living together will not be so bad after all I thought.

His ideas to help keep my house clean and cozy were well-intentioned, but he wanted access to the entire house. This I could not allow. My office, bedroom, and basement were off limits and only for me. He had no reason to go to these areas, as they were private. The best scenario would be if he could take care of my house and keep it in order without getting in my way. It would look much better if a girl would come over, seeing the spotlessness of my house and Jesus keeping to his room. A sly smile crept over my face.

At first I enjoyed this new relationship and I saw changes in my life that I liked. He fixed some of the rot in the wood and leaking pipes in the draining system. But that’s where it ended. The worst part was that he never asked permission before throwing things away. At first I didn’t realize it, a pair of shoes here, or my favorite shirt there. When I found out, it was because my liquor cabinet had most of the bottles missing.

If he was going to drink it, he could have at least asked me first! So I confronted him about it and he told me had thrown the bottles away, stating that it wasn’t necessary for me to have. I was boiling with rage! I wanted to kick him out. All that money and good liquor…gone! We got into a screaming match, well, okay, I admit, it was only me screaming, but I felt justified for it. I asked him about other things that had gone missing and he had the audaciousness to admit putting it all in the garbage. He obviously had a poor way of defining what garbage was. This was crossing the line for me. There was no respect for my possessions!

“I've had enough! Out my house!” I yelled. “This is my life and you do not have the right to tell me what to do!” I seethed with rage and walked into my room, shutting the door with a resounding boom. He better be gone by the time I came back downstairs I thought to myself. The anger reminded me of who I was before I met Jesus and how upset I would get when I did not get my way. This deal was starting to suck and I did not like it one bit. As if I would just allow Jesus to get his own way? Why couldn't I just have fun and do what I want in my life. Every piece I collected from my past is part of me and I do not want to let it go. It was what allowed me to have fun. How could I just...leave it all behind?

I tossed and turned in my bed and soon gave up, staring at the ceiling. The initial shock and anger wore off, but my thoughts kept me awake. I started to remember the things he had thrown away. The pair of shoes from a previous job where I had cheated the company out of thousands of dollars for personal gain before quitting. The shirt I had for when I would go out to clubs and pick up girls for one night stands. They liked how it looked and my confidence lacked without it. The liquor came from my special cabinet where I would go to grab several drinks when I was the most depressed. Lacking these things seemed bad at first, but I did not really miss them as much as I thought. Did I need them? I wanted them, but all these things which gave me happiness, it only lasted for a short while before I felt even worse afterwards. Peace, that feeling of contentment, only came whenever I was around Jesus, but never without him.

Ahhhh!! The man that I should be kicking out of my house was starting to make me second guess myself. He must've poisoned my mind, making me all forgiving and such. I started to dislike this feeling when I wanted to act out, but couldn't. I knew Jesus' intentions were in the right place and that he was right, though, why did it have to be the stuff that I liked which he threw out? Maybe he just did not understand what he should or should not touch.

I left my room and walked downstairs. In a way, I was shocked to see him sitting quietly at the kitchen table, but also relieved he hadn’t left. I guess he was just waiting for me to apologize for my behavior. I still expressed my clear disapproval of his actions as he had not asked me first, but I did apologize to him for my behavior in the end. “You can stay,” I told him, “just ask me first before throwing something away.”  He only smiled back and told me that he was here to help me put my life on the right track. Wasn’t it already on the right track?  Either way, I thought, the worst part must be over.