The Index Cards of My Life

INTRODUCTION: Have you ever stopped to think about your life? I don't mean where it is now or where it is going; I'm talking about everything you've ever done in your life. I'm talking about the biography of biographies. If you sat down and wrote down everything that you, by your volition, have done, thought, and said in your life, what kind of a story would it be? I doubt that I am conveying to you the enormity of the task, but I think this illustration will.

THE STORY: In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed."

The titles ranged form the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I've Done In My Anger," "Things I've muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared The Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. . . .

Lesson 1: Every Index Card Matters.

A) Each card describes who you are: Everything you have done, thought, said, or experienced makes up a tiny part of who you are. Your personality is a product of your environment and how you have chosen to react to your environment. That's why it matters even what I think about: (See Philippians 4:6-8.)

B) Some cards describe how you have affected others: (see Colossians 4:5-6.) That file "People I Have Shared the Gospel With" might include some names you didn't know and might not contain some names you expected. Taking the time to mention God, where you attend, why you live as you do, or just setting a good example may have led someone to seek the truth. On the other hand, you may have taught someone the truth directly, but because they saw hypocrisy in your life, you actually led them away from Christ. We should try at least once to teach each of our friends the gospel. If it is truly the most important part of our lives, why would we not talk about it as freely as less important parts like the weather or sports? (See Romans 1:16 )

We should also be aware that little things we do or don't do influence the lives of our friends, fellow Christians, and especially our children. Is your faith important enough to give up a night or two a week to visit another congregation's gospel meeting? More importantly, do we spend time with other Christians on a personal level? If we don't, why should our children? If our children don't, what do you think is going to happen to them?

BACK TO THE STORY: And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Lesson 2: You Can't Hide A Single Card from God

This lesson is simple: (see Hebrews 4:13.) Is that not a sobering thought? Even if we have carefully guarded our words and deeds, don't we all have thoughts that would never willingly reveal to anyone? But God knows it all. And that's not all. He will also judge us: (see 2 Corinthians 5:10.)

BACK TO THE STORY: But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Lesson 3: Jesus Cares about the Content of Each Card.

If God didn't have compassion for us, He would have left us all to follow the course we chose to its end in hell. Instead, He visited us in order to show mercy toward us: (see Hebrews 4:15; Romans 5:6-8.)

BACK TO THE STORY: Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then he got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign his name over mine on each card.

"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."

Lesson 4: Jesus Can Dispose of Any Card.

Now this is the truly good news. In Acts 22:16, Paul was told how he had Christ dispose of a lot of cards he wanted to get rid of. Jesus washed away what was written on every card in the files Paul had marked, "Christians I have persecuted, imprisoned, and killed," "Hatred I have harbored towards God's people," "Times I have fought against the purpose of God," and others. (See Matthew 11:28-30 )

BACK TO THE STORY: He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

Lesson 5: There Are More Cards To Write.

Now consider these two questions: 1) What will be on the cards I write tomorrow? 2) What will become of the bad cards I write in the future? It is completely up to you. You can write whatever you want to on those cards. Those cards do not contain what other people do to you but what you do, think, and say. Even if others shamefully mistreat you, it is your reaction that is recorded on the index cards. If you invite Jesus into your room of index cards, He'll get rid of any you don't want God to read on Judgment Day. But you have to ask Him.

CONCLUSION: Do you appreciate what Jesus can do in your life? Do you thank Him for what He has done? Do you feel, as Paul did, the depths from which Jesus lifted you? This illustration helped me feel a deep sense of shame that because of me, Christ has suffered. Let's get rid of any shameful index cards and start writing hundreds of good ones.