My alarm was set for 6:30 A.M. i had been awake off and on during the night but at 6:30am i was absolutely dead to this world asleep. Amazingly, i should have heard the automatic “click” of the alarm kicking in, but in that instant instead of a “click” for the alarm, i heard a man start to speak from the radio, he was telling a story, almost as if it was all prerecorded and at 6:30am was set to play. Exactly at 6:30am, i heard the man began to speak saying:

“There once was a little boy and little girl who lived in town. One day the mother came and said she was going to leave them with their grandparents on their farm for several days while she and dad took a little time for themselves. The children, of course, were ecstatic and thought this to be a wonderful thing, after all, it was always an adventure at the farm.

They stayed the first night and were up by first light. The little girl went with the grandmother and the little boy went with the grandfather. The first thing the grandfather did was to take the little boy out to his workshop where he made an old fashioned sling shot; he used the fork of a tree, some innertube rubber he had cut into strips with his Barlow knife, and a little piece of leather from an old pair of shoes for the sling. The boy was amazed his grandfather was so inventive and imaginative, and couldn’t wait to test it out. That morning the boy went all over the farm finding rocks just the right size and aiming at everything his eye could see. But, unfortunately, he hit absolutely nothing and he wondered at King David and his abilities with a slingshot.

As lunch approached his grandmother called for the children to come in and eat, and as the boy got closer to the back door of the old farm house, there at the back door was granny’s favorite white duck, just – standing there. He figured since he’d not hit anything he’d aimed at all morning he had no worries of even getting close to the duck. As he let the rock fly from the slingshot he saw the rock go straight as an arrow to the duck and killed it dead. It didn’t even twitch. Just dead. Instantly. The little boy went into a panic, quick grabbed the duck and ran behind the wood pile, weeping while piling leaves on the carcass trying to cover over this terrible thing. He felt the pressure of someone looking at him and turned to see his sister, peering at him with a small, smug little smile. He said, “Oh please, please, please don’t tell granny! i’ll do anything but please don’t tell granny!” The sister realized her opportunity and with an air of confidence she agreed.

When they went inside for lunch the grandmother asked the little girl if she would help get lunch together, and the girl said, “Well granny, i think Bobby would rather do that.” The boy enthusiastically agreed and went quick to help with lunch. After lunch the grandmother asked the sister if she would help pick up the lunch stuff and clean up wherewith the girl said, “I think Bobby would much rather do that than go outside and play.” And again, the boy agreed and leapt to help the grandmother. This went on and on through dinner and to bed time.

In the morning the grandmother called the children for breakfast. As they came to the kitchen they could smell the coffee brewing and bacon frying, it was delicious to their senses. The grandmother asked the boys’ sister if she would help with breakfast. And, of course, the girl said, “Oh, I’m sure Bobby would much rather help than me”, but this time the boy, who, by now, was worn to a frazzle with the burden of his secret, broke and wept bitterly saying between sobs, “Oh granny, i’m so, so sorry. Yesterday i went all over shooting at everything with the slingshot Grandpa made me and i didn’t hit anything. When you called us to lunch i saw your favorite white duck at the back door and i was so sure i wouldn’t even come close, but that time i hit what i aimed at and i killed it. i’m so sorry granny! i’m so sorry i killed your favorite duck, i didn’t mean to!”

The grandmother got down in front of the little boy and took his face in her two hands and looked at him with the eyes of kind wisdom and said, “Oh…I know. I was standing at the kitchen window. I saw the whole thing and forgave you the moment it happened. I was only wondering how long you were going to allow your sister to make you a slave to it.””

God sees me. Always. There is nothing about me God doesn’t see. Nothing. There is nothing my eyes see that God’s eyes can’t see, and there is no darkness deep enough for me to cloak my deeds from Him. He sees me in my most nakedness.  He even knows what i think about when i am most vulnerable and exposed behind a closed door. He knows.

The Lord asked me a question once, He said, “You know those things you do in the dark when you think no one can see? Yea, those things. Do you do those things because you don’t believe I can see you, or do you do those things because you don’t care if I see you?”

Underneath it all – is it unbelief or jaw-jutting rebellion? Probably both together. i don’t like this question. Hard question there, but only hard because i don’t like it.

i so didn’t want to answer because all my answers were not good…hmmm, so which is the lesser of two very uncomfortable answers because one of the two, as previously stated, if not both, are true. So, while i stumbled around trying not to answer what must be answered and, in fact, is already answered by my lack of an answer, God makes me to know another question, “If I have forgiven you, cast your sins as far as east is from west and I remember them no more, who is it that keeps reminding you of all the things you ever did? And how long will you allow him to continue to make you a slave to them?”

This day, i’m asking you the same question: If God has forgiven you, who is it that keeps reminding you of all the things you ever did, and how long will you allow yourself to be a slave to them?

Thanks for listening, i’m Social Porter with Living in His Name Ministries.