House Church Talk - The Room - false story

[Janet Murphy]

http://www.snopes.com/glurge/room.htm

Sorry, but this story is not completely true.  The deceased was a
plagiarist.

janet
www.janetmurphy.net


----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Tim Poole" <pooletim at hotmail.com>
To: <House Church Talk  at housechurch.org>
Sent: Sunday, September 19, 2004 5:49 PM
Subject: House Church Talk -  The Room


> THE ROOM
>
> 17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write  something for a
> class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he  later told
> his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best  thing I
> ever wrote." It also was the last.
>
> Brian's  parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it
while
> cleaning  out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School. Brian had
> been dead  only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of
his
> life near  them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.
>
> Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay  about encountering
> Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment  of the teen's
> life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce  Moore
> realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such
an
> impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr.
> Moore said.
>
> Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day  after Memorial Day. He was driving
> home from a friend's house when his car  went off Bulen-Pierce Road in
> Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He  emerged from the wreck
> unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was  electrocuted.
>
> The Moores framed a copy of Brian's  essay and hung it among the family
> portraits in the living room. "I think God  used him to make a point. I
> think we were meant to find it and make something  out of it, " Mrs. Moore
> said of the essay. She and her husband want to share  their son's vision
of
> life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in  heaven. I know
I'll
> see him.
>
> Brian's Essay: The  Room...
>
> In that place between wakefulness and  dreams, I found myself in the room.
> There were no distinguishing features  except 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  endless 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 from 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 Have Done in My
Anger",
> "Things I Have 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 years  to fill 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 "TV  Shows I have watched", 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  shows but more by the vast 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 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 they hurt.
They
> 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? 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." 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.
>
> "I  can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For
> God so  loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes
in
> Him shall  not perish but have eternal life." If you feel the same way
> forward it to as  many people as you can so the love of Jesus will touch
> their lives also. My  "People I shared the gospel with" file just got
> bigger, how about  yours?
>
> IF THERE IS ONE EMAIL THAT I HAVE READ  THAT NEEDS TO GO AROUND THE WORLD,
> IT IS THIS ONE, PLEASE PASS THIS TO  EVERYONE YOU KNOW, CHRISTIAN OR NOT!
> "LET'S FILL OUR OWN FILE CARD" AND MAY  GOD BLESS YOU ALL!
>
>
>   You don't have to share this with  anybody, no one will know whether you
> did or not, but you will know and so  will he.
>
>