There in the darkness in which he’d stayed, looking with broken heart at the mess that he’d made, he saw that he now needed to make a decision. The angels stood by as the silent war raged within him and prayed he’d have the strength to surrender and win, and sit up, and get up, […]
There in the filth and mire he stayed, upset with himself over the mess he’d made, knowing that at any moment he could still be saved, but refusing. The angels watched and begged him to rise, wiping the still-flowing tears from their eyes. But he said, “No. I must suffer for what I have done.”
There in the darkness, on the road of temptation, flirting with disaster and tempting fate, burning with selfish desires and lust he waited. The angels watched and pulled his arm, and said, “Please, son, don’t do this,” but he pulled away as if to say, “Go away, I don’t need your help.