Christian short stories. Finding God and self.
There was a man, a man who died..died a long time ago before you and i even knew him. A few people were privileged to see him, speak with him and walk with them.
A few others despised him, others loved him and a minor few were called specially to go the journey with him.
There was a man who died, flesh of our flesh, blood of our blood..and yet and yet..he was beloved, and only son. Yet, he was of spirit, conceived in the inconceivable way..birthed in a place not fit for babies, searched for by those who wanted to harm, even worshiped by the men who were called wise and gifted with such rare things.
We were about five that night, walking into the house at night.
It was quiet, the occupants were asleep, and we were meant to take the family out down to the least person.
We had been paid good money enough to make me retire, make us retire. We never asked questions of who and why. We just carried out our operation.
And so we went, and we rounded the family up, and made them watch while we had fun with their mother and then their daughter, we took what they had also.
There was a boy seating close to the gutter, he must have been about five or six, he was staring at me, but while he stared, I was transfixed to the spot and it felt as though everything stopped.
You see the car was coming towards me, and people were waving for me to get out of the way..but here I was staring at the little boy, wondering why I was drawn to him. He was just a boy, sitting by the gutter, unperturbed about the chaos around him. So i stood watching him, unsure why, yet glued. The car was coming, faster now..yet i wouldn't budge.