One day, God came to me and handed me a hit list. He wanted me to be his assassin. He wanted me to kill for him. I was professional about it, stoic. I didn’t ask any question. I didn’t see the need. God was serious about the assassination and he even gave me the weapons, the location, the date and the time for the hit to be carried out.
God wanted me to kill in various specific ways. He had provided me with a rifle, a knife, a grenade, a rope and the last weapon was to be kept a secret until I have killed all those named in the list. I took a glance at the list and noticed familiar names. Some of them I knew too well. I had shared intimate moments with them. We had even made vows of brotherhood. It is going to be a hard call. The trigger is going to be heavy. My heart is going to rebel. They are literally friends I knew for many years.
But I have to put personal feelings aside. I have to rise to the occasion. I have to fulfill my sacred call of duty.
I committed their names to heart and destroyed the list. I then went for my first kill. I recalled the location, dates and time and I had the target’s face in my mind. It was a vivid and painful remembrance. I took position at a vantage point and adjusted the scope on my rifle. This was to be a one-bullet-one-kill mission. I waited for the target to appear. He appeared as God had timed it. He was naked, in the flesh. I saw his nudity, his shame. His eyes were filled with lust. His name was pleasure.
I took a deep breath, caught him in my cross-hair, and pulled the trigger. I heard the bullet screeched out of my chamber and sliced through the air. The shot hit the target right between the eyes and he fell like a timber. I stood there for a while to confirm the kill and walked away with some remorse. I felt I had lost a kin. But I also felt a deep release.
My next target was to be killed with a knife. It was to be a close-up murder. At the predestined location and time, I hid myself in my second target’s house. I waited for him to return. He returned drunk that night. He was self-indulging. He reeked of carnality. His name was sloth.
With his back facing me, unaware of what was coming, I raised the knife and plunged it deep into his back. I heard the crack of his spine and he lumbered onto the sofa. He was still alive, crawling away from me, begging for mercy. He was breathless. I felt a tight grip in my heart, a call for restraint. But I knew I had to complete the job. I grabbed hold of the handle of the knife and twisted it hard. It tore his flesh and sinews and split his vertebrae. There and then, he was dead. Sloth was dead.
I was shivering as I brought to mind my third target. Her name softened my heart. It was to be the easiest as well as the most difficult assassination. She was vanity. But I knew I had passed a point of no return by then. I had to do it quick before I change my mind. I sought her out and confronted her face to face.
At first, she was pleased to see me. She didn't know what was coming. I had hidden the grenade from her. She thought it was a friendly visit as was before. I recall I visited vanity many times in the past. She was always there for me when I needed to be petty, envious, bitter and vindictive. I told her that I have to let her go. I told her about God’s hit list. I told her she was one of the targets.
She was in a state of shock. She shook in fear. She asked me to let her live. But I shook my head and shed a tear for her. I then turned away, rushed out and threw the grenade into the house. Behind me was a loud explosion as shattered debris flew in all direction. In a split second, vanity was no more.
I turned to the hit list. My last target on the list was a man I knew too well. He was my confidant, counselor and friend. I agonized over killing him with the rope in my hand. I struggled real hard contemplating finishing the job. I knew his usual haunt and went there early to prep myself up.
When pride entered the room, I could sense that he knew something was wrong. I avoided eye contact with him, trying not to give too much away. But somehow pride knew what was coming. We were so close that we could read each other’s mind. He smiled at me and told me that he knew the purpose of my visit. He then asked for the rope and I gave it to him, trembling. He said nothing after that and I watched intently as my old friend hung himself before me.
I was speechless after that. I lingered for a while before I left his place, fighting back the tears. There was a deep unrest in my soul as well as a feeling of enduring liberty in my heart.
As I left, I took stock of what I had done. I had killed pleasure, sloth, vanity and pride all in one day. They all died in my hands. I have almost fulfilled God’s hit list save for one more target. It was the final target that had to be killed in order to prevent those whom I had killed from rebirthing. It was not on the hit list but it was written in my heart long before God wanted me to be his hit man.
At this time, God appeared before me. He was pleased by my obedience. He said, “Well done my son.” Then he took me to a place from whence I could see a Cross at a distance. He then signaled me to do the necessary. I looked at God to draw the courage and strength I needed to walk the narrow Calvary road that was destined for me and me alone.
But God assured me that I won’t be alone in this journey. He said he will be with me through it all. I then nodded in confidence and took the first step of faith in this journey towards the Cross. It was a long journey to the death of self. And at the end of it, I shall gain true liberty in Christ. Cheerz.
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