Panic, Confusion, Strife, and Stupid Within
Panic sounds the alarm, “That glow above the ridge, I recognize it!”
“Where, where, I don’t see anything?” Confusion’s bewildered, scanning the surroundings.
Strife, annoyed again, “Panic, you’re always causing trouble. I wish you’d go to hell. And you, Stupid, don’t say anything.”
Eyes bulging, Panic yells through parched lips, his words dripping with dread, “It’s getting brighter, He’s coming! He will send me there, I don’t want to be in chains!”
“I see it too; what do I do? What do I do?” Bouncing to and fro as if hitting walls, Confusion exclaims uncertainly.
“You are nothing but trouble and discord. Why do I tolerate you, Confusion?” Strife mocks, “Look at me, calm as always. And you, Stupid, don’t say anything.”
Brilliance illuminates everything, including the demons possessing a pitiable paraplegic. Frozen with fear as the Son of God slowly approaches, He is talking with others.
“He’s as powerful and magnificent as ever; emanating strength and…and…love…oh, I said it.” Panic, in horror, covers his mouth, “Ahh! My tongue hurts.”
“I don’t understand why those people are questioning and accusing Him. Don’t they see He is the Son of God?” Perplexed; Confusion queries.
“They can only see His human body, not what He is inside, inside Him. Shut up, listen to what He is saying, maybe you can learn something. And you, Stupid, don’t say anything,” contends Strife.
“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean,” Jesus’ gaze pierces them.
Muttering blankets the crowd.
Strife notes the conflict, “He easily sees who and what they really are but they can’t even glimpse who He is. They are stupid.”
He didn’t tell me not to say anything to these stupid people. I know, I know! “We know Who You are, Christ Jesus. You are the Son of the Living God,” Stupid foolishly calls out.
“Cease speaking and come out of him,” commands all Authority.
The man softly moans.
“Now look what you've done, you dim-witted, brainless dunce,” Strife criticizes Stupid as they leave him.
“What happened?” Confusion’s uncertain.
“Oh my, oh my, oh my,” Panic goes to pieces.
Recognizing Jesus, the man pleads, “Lord, help me!”
“Your sins are forgiven,” His reply is welcomed and soothing.
“Blaspheme. Only God can forgive sins,” the hollow tombs echo again one of their claims.
Jesus studies the crowds. “So that you know the Son of Man can forgive sins on earth,” His eyes soften, beholding the prone man, “Arise.”
Leaping to his feet and praising God, his is the only sound now heard.
“My peace I give unto you,” Jesus says.
His mind free of chaos, for the first time in his life his heart without guilt and wisely follows his Saviour. Clean within.
Meanwhile, Panic is terrified, Confusion is mystified, Strife is losing an argument with himself, and there is no cure for Stupid.
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