my story; priscilla’s story

When I ws 9 years of age, I discovered comic books. The Gravesend candy store had all the latest. But neither I or my family could afford comics, let alone books or music or TV. (Eventually, we obtained a black and white TV. It was lovely.) But I had to have these comics: DC? Then: Batman; Marvel? Then: Spiderman; Doctor Doom; the Thing; Hulk; Silver Surfer.

I stole them from the Gravesend candy store. Later the store went out of business. I am sure I moved them along with my actions to that cliff. I stole because I, as Thomas Harris has Hannibal say in ‘Silence of the Lambs,’ I coveted. My eyes saw; I stole.

My eyes still steal. I desire every kind of sight seen… ‘Produced in me me every kind of covetous desire.’ This was the one area of the law that Paul always failed in: coveting, the desiring of something, anything, that your eyes capture and that captures you.

Yesterday, I heard a story of a little girl, whom I will call ‘Priscilla’ who stole from a local store here in London. This lovely 5 year old stole!!! Got away with it!! And was happy. She was me. Me years ago; and me today. Her parents found out, and walked her back to the store to return the item of candy. Priscilla returned the candy and yesterday I saw her take dozens of book marks. She is still stealing. Me.

I know why: Priscilla you will still and always feel this way.
Feeling unloved? steal. Feeling under loved? steal. Rejected? steal.

Someone has to feed me; I will feed, touch, love myself. Forget others. Forget them. Steal.

Love yourself. But…but…
If I know, truly know that I am loved by a Saviour who walked the earth, who cried, who rested and was tired and dirty, then I can be ‘his letter’ (2 Corinthians 3:2), a ‘letter of Christ.’

I can be His comic book; His letter; His hero.
So can you Priscilla; so can you.

Struggling with all His power.
I am yours.