The last nail was struck, the final coat painted; I looked at my work and saw that it was good. His name was John and I looked forward to living with him with the same jubilation I felt everytime I got a new tenant. I had designed it to his special tastes and needs. How could anyone complain?

John was new so the first few days, I showed him around and educated him. We became inseparable (best of friends) and I loved every minute. Ours was a home of peace. As usual, angry jealousy confronted us but I turned these tenants away determined to keep the peace and enjoy my fellowship with John.

In war, when one tactic fails another is cooked up. So they cooked a new one and dished it out. ‘Why is MY house in your name?’ Our home became John’s home. ‘I’m redesigning the house.’ Our home became his house. These changes birthed the death of our friendship so that companionship became hostility and in place of love, I found hate and indifference. I soon moved out.

Floating on the assurance of victory, they marched forward and knocked proudly. John let them in. In replacing me, they wasted no time and soon, I hardly recognised John or the house. Sin became their common ground as the tenants cheered John on like cheerleaders at the cup finals. ‘Why is the house in your name?’ His house became their home. ‘We’re redesigning the house.’ Their home became his prison.

I didn’t help not because I wanted to see him suffer – after all I’m not human – but because I had no rights to his home. In his quest for independence, he had stripped me of them so I clothed myself in patience. He suffered when they stole his peace. He suffered when they stole his grace. He spoke out when they stole his life.

‘I’m sorry. Please forgive me and come back into my life.’ That was all it took for our home to be restored. As to be expected, they still come back tempting with shamed jealousy and desperately seeking the warmth of our home. But it is well for John for I have taken my place in his spirit and in his soul.

See 1 Peter 5:8

Be sober, be vigilant; becauseyour adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.

And: Luke 11:24-26

“When an unclean spirit goes out of a man, he goes through dry places, seeking rest; and finding none, he says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when he comes, he finds it swept and put in order. Then he goes and takes with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter and dwell there; and the last state of that man is worse than the first.”


One thought on “SUNDAY FICTION: Home of Peace

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