Confessions of a Killer (Enduring / Testimony)

Hasbro Clue Game:  1998 version

Was it Miss Scarlet in the Library with the Revolver?  No!  It was Miss Lynnae in Savannah with Neglect.

Each Spring I am filled with a masterful delusion that leads to my serial killings.   I walk down aisles upon aisles of colorful flowers, fragrant herbs, and beautiful young trees.  My head fills with visions of grandeur.  This will be the year I will do it!  I will be a master gardener with luscious fruits, delicious herbs, and a bountiful garden.  My plenty will be abundant, and my garden will be one of greatness.

I carefully select my victims, as they scream for mercy, "Not me!  Pick that one!  Please!  What have I done to deserve this wretched fate?" I chuckle mercilessly as I place them in my (shopping cart or buggy, you decide).  I coo to them, "Didn't you hear me?  This will be the year!"  To this they pathetically reply, "Yes, the year I will die by your hand."  I take my victims home and survey my yard.  My yard is unchanged, it doesn't have good light, soil, or a place where my victims will not be tromped on by dogs and kids.  I think to myself, "Ah, this random spot here might work.  Yes, I haven't tried a victim here yet!  Quick, randomly dig and plop my destined victim in the ground."

I water my victim, talk to my victim, but never name my victim.  That would be much too heartless!  For the next few glorious springtime weeks, I attend to my victims, proud of myself, sure that this will be the year that I will reform.  Then, the brutal Savannah heat begins, bugs overwhelm me and the springtime showers dry up.  The attention I showered on my victim wanes, and nature takes over.  The lack of water, love, and immense, brutal heat dry up my victims to a crunchy, brown mass.  I feel a sense of remorse as I realize I have struck yet again.  Another victim, dead by my lack of attention, a crumbly heap that would never serve as my amazing masterpiece.  I totaled up the number of victims killed by me over the last 6 years.  The total is no less than 36 and probably much higher as I'm positive there are victims I can no longer remember!  What could have changed this sad outcome?  What could make my victims success stories instead of just another number in my line of killings?

I have a friend who diligently plants a garden each year.  She prepares her soil, and waters her plants (yes, I must refer to hers as plants, not victims) daily.  If she goes on vacation, she even arranges to have someone come and water her plants or pick the fruits and veggies while she's gone.  (What a novel idea!)  Her plants bloom, grow and produce beautifully.  She even has some to give away she gets such a nice crop!  She endures the heat, bugs and drought and receives bounteously in return.

James 5:11 states, "Behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy."  After my friend endures, she can happily look at her bounty and even share with others.  I don't endure, which leads to sad, shriveled up victims.   I've discovered that my life and testimony of the Lord are much the same way.  My testimony, like the plants, can grow and flourish if I provide it with the essential nutrients it needs such as reading scriptures, attending church, praying, and serving others.  If I don't give these essentials to my testimony, it may shrivel in the brutal heat of this world.  I hope to continue giving my testimony the nutrients it needs so it doesn't become just another nameless victim of carelessness!
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