As I stand in the mirror, I see many different shapes instead of just me. Upon receiving the good tidings, I moved like lightning towards the firm voice that called out my name.
With the twinkling of my eyes, I was turned into the glorious image of the maker. I worshiped, and I kept his word:’ I knelt all day, and it seemed I was becoming the man my father wanted me to be.
The enemy comes up like a flood and immediately I give in to the sweet, dirty, addictive desires that I had turned from.
I repent of the faithfulness of God to become the faithless Christemelon that adapts to every colour of the forest.
I go on wondering when the pain will end, ‘the pain of my dreadful choices and a light beacon to my eyes, thus my hope rises from the ashes
A scream emanates from my soul as I lament to the God of Abraham to hold me in his graceful arms of love. He purges the merciless acts in my heart through the precious blood of his begotten.
With the mic gripped by my hands, the pulpit in front, I pronounce the way to life, the way to God. Many follow the words I speak and the creator of man and beast is gloriously glorified.
I am a leaf in a storm being swept from bed to floor, each time with a different idol,’ my eyes moving all over the earth, lusting at everything they encounter,
Instead of the sweet-smelling scent of grace, I have the deathly odour of sin protruding from my mouth.
My eyes wide open, searching for more flies to enjoy flies from the old dirt grave’
1,2,3,4… these are the many colours I have, yet none of them is my true one’ As I continue staring in the mirror I drown in the confusion of sin that has filled my heart.
But then, but then, ‘I am a chameleon moving slowly towards the bosoms of grace.
At the foot of the tree the chameleon arrives, and he becomes the red’ Not that he is guilty, but he is cleansed and forgiven. A voice cries out, “It is finished.” Christemelon is done and from the tree, the Christian emerges