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.
* image from stock.clip.com
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