My Party is Over.

Let us celebrate, let us rejoice, let us give Him glory! The marriage of the Lamb has come… ‘Blessed are those invited to the Wedding Supper of the Lamb!’ Revelation 19:7, 9 (The Msg) 

my-party-is-over-3-picmonkey

A young man had chosen a rickety road during his first three years of university life. It was strewn with the debris of all that goes with indulging in worldly pleasures. There were valiant attempts to flag him down, but the begging, pleading and fervent praying from those who cared – really cared – were ineffective to slow his pace. He sped faster and faster around the party track. 

After all, attending and hosting these parties promised fulfillment. Over and over and over. 

Trapped in the snare of deceit, he became stuck with an undesirable list of regrets and party photos that were anything but family album-friendly.

When the time came for his younger brother to leave for college, the older brother wrote him a letter. A rather lengthy one. It was saturated with sentimentality and affirmations of his brotherly devotion. He encouraged him to, yes, have fun during the journey ahead, but to remain diligent and pursue worthy goals, to avoid idleness. For, the older brother had gained much wisdom from having chosen to traverse the party road.

In a closing paragraph, big brother simply stated, 

my-party-is-over-2-picmonkeyMy party is over.

It made me think. Maybe it’s time for my party to be over, too. The one where I’ve allowed a truckload of undesirable, deceptive guests inside whose evil desire is to dirty up the place. Only the place isn’t a dorm room or a fraternity house or my home. It’s my soul, that sacred and holy place redeemed by God.

I’ve either hosted or attended these soul-damaging parties where each and every room contained unwelcome wounds of the past. They still smoldered from the lies they’ve told, their tongues of fire, restlessly evil and determined to engulf a person in flames (James 3:6).

I’d hear them teasing, laughing, accusing, criticizing, and cringe at the sting of their apathetic stares. They were all garbed in trashy attire, smelling of landfills, and likely inebriated by the fermented fruit of their lies…

You’re not worthy

You have nothing to contribute

You aren’t worth listening to

You are trapped with no way out

You aren’t worth fighting for

You shouldn’t cry

You deserve to be abused

Geez. Such toxic statements! Who’d invited these dreadful, offensive people? 

Well, it turns out that I’d invited them. Party girl in the flesh here. For far too many years. Until I’d been lured out of the awful gathering by the tender, but firm, beckoning of a louder Voice. It was that of my Savior Who needed – and needs – no invitation to show up at any party I’ve ever thrown or chosen to attend (against better judgment).

Even the pity parties.

As for those unwelcome, deceptive party guests? They’re to be extinguished, snuffed out like a wick. Unless, of course, I allow them re-entry. But that’s up to me.

Is my party over? Yes! And amen! Because the atmosphere was unacceptable, the minion-chatter endless, and the stench unbearable. Holy law enforcement officers, members of God’s angel armies, responded to God’s call for service and rushed in wielding the Truth. They identified and cuffed offenders and hauled them off to jail. 

my-party-is-over-picmonkeyAnd now this party girl is hosting an entirely different party, one put on by the King of kings Who always makes a super big deal out of celebrations.

I’ll just need to assure the bouncer stationed at the entrance to my soul knows to check IDs closely. Because anyone speaking less than the truth is unwelcome. 

You are precious, honored in my sight and I love you (Isaiah 43:4)

I have engraved your name on the palm of My hand (Isaiah)

You are a dearly loved child (Ephesians 5:1)

God demonstrates His love for us in this, that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8)

So raise your glasses. Time to party! Who’ll join me?

2 Comments

  1. Margaret Eomurian says:

    I’ll join you! Thanks for the invitation, Sister.
    Keep writing!
    Margaret

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