Stomach full, wallet padded, finely dressed, well accepted. Greeting others, smiling profusely, feeling good, doing my thing. Pastor preaching, tells what I should do, I am nodding, but doesn't get through. Service over, greet my friends, organise supper, smile again. Church. Club. Friends. Bill, a bum. Lonely, cold, hungry, numb. Hurt and needy, left alone, in the alley, by my home. Dirty, dishevelled, down and out. Rarely seen, in the dark, finds food, left in the park. Man in need, desperate cries, I hear nothing, except my own lies. One night, returning home, finely dressed, feeling great. He approaches, smelling drunk, asking help, boy he stunk. Help old Bill? I think not, he always wants, money for pot. I didn't stop, I didn't slow, I didn't listen, I didn't know. Bill was dying. A desperate need. He died that night, my deaf ear to his plea. Twas the very next day, I went out for some tennis. Passed the alley, didn't see, a hunched up lump, of a man used to be. Never saw, the news that night, of a homeless man, his desperate plight. I did play tennis, caught up with some friends, watched a movie, bought some clothes. Returned home happy, content and full. Never knew old Bill, and now never will. His anguish, his plight. What's it to me? I'm safe and sound. I've got J.C. My preacher tells me, I need only tithe. That Jesus will bless me, that heaven is mine. Church every Sunday, group once a week. My salvation's sorted, I've done the "right thing". Lies, lies, nothing but lies. Jesus once spoke, of sheep and the goats, of do unto others, of love and of fruit. Never once matched, my life and these terms, lies I believed, I'm going to burn. To Bill, just what happened, I'll never know, but my actions condemned me, my riches acuse. I'll never get to heaven, and I have no excuse. Obeying the Bible is more than, "attend", it's more than to tithe, and be a good man. If I keep on going, I'm headed for destruction, looks pretty good, yet all is illusion. It is no wonder the church, lost all its power, We need nothing at all, to remain in the shower. Looking for comfort, seeking our own, we've lost it completely, and don't even know. Bill's turn is gone now, I lost that chance, but what of John, Brian, and Jane. What of the thousands, I know not their names, sitting there lonely, hurt, in need. Waiting for someone, to answer their plea. Remember Bill. Remember me. Am I a Christian, or do I pretend, tell me, for Christ's sake, will you attend. Will you obey, do you want to be free? Will you leave comfort, and then "follow me"? Christ is waiting. Sheep or goat. Count the cost. You choose. Eternal destiny, in your hands, what you do, it's more than faith. Finally, please understand, narrow road, many bends. Any other way, find God's wrath. Where as church, have we gone wrong, time to change, turn back to truth. My destiny, your destiny, it's up to you. by Rob T.