Faith Fiction – Zombies Everywhere


They are everywhere. Their eyes are sunk into their heads. Dirty ragged clothes barely cover body parts. Groaning is the only sound escaping from their mouths. The clanking of chains fill the air.

It had been a week since I prayed the prayer. The prayer that changed everything. I am regretting that I prayed it.

I say zombies, but technically they weren’t. Zombies are dead people that come back to haunt the living. These are living people that are acting like the dead.

They fill the malls, stores, neighborhoods, work places. There are so many of them that people don’t even pay attention to them any more. They are just…there. I don’t know if I can ever get to use to their presence.

In one way I was glad that I prayed what I did. But how did I know that praying, “Lord open my eyes that I may see like you” would cause my physical eyes to open to the spiritual? In retrospect, I realized what a dangerous thing I had asked.

My prayer was 1 week ago and I was still not used to seeing things as God sees them. I wondered if my vision would ever return to ‘normal’. Seeing the spiritual around what we call the physical was very unnerving. I realized that I liked living in the illusion that the physical was all there was.

I can always tell when a zombie is near by because the chains they wear hit against each other giving their presence away. It took me several days to realize that there are two kinds of zombies roaming the city.

It is based on color. The first group I noticed had black chains.

It is so strange to watch a zombie walk confidently through a crowd thinking they are the ‘stuff’ with the latest clothes, insights, and thinking when in spiritual reality they are dirty, smelly, and the clanging of their chains drowns out their voice. I have started avoiding crowds because I can’t handle the disconnect between the physical and spiritual reality.

Some people’s chains have just a few links while others are so weighed down they were bent over and couldn’t walk straight – in the spirit of course. Their demenaor even in the natural was one of being worn out and tired. I thought if they could only see why they are so tired they would want to be free.

I asked, “Lord, what are the chains?”

“I have come to bring life.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Anything done apart from me brings bondage that leads to death.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Whenever one makes a decision apart from me, it binds them to a source that brings bondage and death. Every link in the chain represents a decision point where either they chose their way or the enemy’s.”

“Won’t people want the chains removed once they feel the weight of their decision?”

“No. They are so deceived they do not see the connection. The enemy tells them that freedom is making their own choices instead of choosing my choices. They see the chain links as rights they take pride in instead of bondages that are killing them.”

I didn’t fully understand, except that following the enemy’s plan for their life had produced extreme bondages they didn’t realize.

The second group of zombies zombies had polished chains.

“Lord, why are some of the chains shiny and polished?”

I had also noticed that this group of zombies’ clothes were torn and smelly but at one time had been all white. They also wore chains of varying lengths.

“Death is death,” spoke the Lord, “but the second group of zombies are dying with a different bondage. Notice how the people continually polish their chains”

I was totally confused.

“The second group is proud of their chains. They don’t realize the chains are killing them too. They think they bring life. That is why they are being continually polished. Those among them with the most chains is honored and revered as the most spiritual. That person then shares with others how to get more links in their chains. Look closely at their faces.”

“Lord, they look like you!”

“They are my sons and daughters.”

“What?”

“My sons and daughters have exchanged their garments of sin and death for my garments of righteousness. When they did the black chains of bondage fell off. Over time, they exchanged their new found freedom and movement for another set of chains.”

“Why? Where did this second set of chains come from?”

“They got them in church.”

The confused look on my face gave away my cluelessness.

“My shepherds gave them the chains and said they were from me. They were told that the chains would bind them to me and show their devotion.”

“Huh?”

“They do not realize that they are bound to me by love and not effort. Every time they try to do my work or get my approval another link in the chain is formed. They then celebrate what ‘God’ has done in testimony time.”

I was staggered. It made me look at myself. For the first time since the prayer my eyes were opened towards me. I realized I was wearing chain links I had never seen before. I understood this was why God had opened my spiritual eyes, it was for me to see my own polished chains.

I cried out, “My eyes are opened. I see my bondage I call Christianity. Give me the courage to break them!”

Matthew 11:30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Categories: Faith Fiction Stories

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