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Wages of Sin…

He leaned with his back against the wet bricks, watching the dark cloudy sky pour sheets of water down onto the city. The rather dim light above him, as he stood below the seedy canopy, illuminated his long pallid face and sunken cheekbones, the pale skin pulled taut giving him a ghastly skeletal look. He raised his slender hand up, the long, bony index and middle fingers raising half of a smoldering Pall Mall cigarette up to his thin cracked lips. A hissing sound echoed through the alleyway, above the sound of falling rain, as he took a long drag of the cigarette. With a loud sigh, he exhaled plumes of smoke up into the air. He ran his free hand through his dark, wiry hair as he dropped his cigarette. With a thump, he trampled it into the wet ground, the heel of his black boot swiveling from side to side. With one last glance up at the dark sky, he smiled a toothy grin, revealing perfectly straight yet yellowing teeth. He pushed open the door and stepped into the warm interior.

There were those who dwelt in darkness and in the shadow of death,
Prisoners in misery and chains,
 Because they had rebelled against the words of God
And spurned the counsel of the Most High.
 Therefore He humbled their heart with labor
They stumbled and there was none to help

Bright fluorescent lights lit up the narrow corridor that he had stepped into; the air smelt sterile, like a hospital. He walked through the corridor, walking past closed doors with various golden plaques on their glass panels, bearing names of various departments. He walked through an arch at the end of the corridor and into a large desk area that looked out through a thick glass-like panel. Behind the panel was a string of people waiting in line; old and young, rich and poor, of all races, nationalities, rank and status. They all looked haggard… drained… dying…and yet there was an uneasy eagerness that glistened in their eyes. A solemn silence hung heavy in the air, and underlying that solemness, was that air of anxiety from the people. They watched him pull a chair out from under the desk, sit down, then arrange the small note pad and pen that lay atop the otherwise bare desk. With his head down, a buzz began to emanate from behind the glass panel, low mumbling that began to rise until the whole building reverberated with echoes of cries and pleas from the multitude of people. He lifted his head up towards the people and with a toothy grin raised his arms wide, up above his head, the long fingers on his hands spread apart. Waving his hands back and forth, he gestured them to be silent. The mutterings died down until there was complete silence. With his arms still spread, he lowered them to shoulder height, turning his hands sideways into a gesture of welcome. With a clear smooth voice he spoke,

“Thank you for your patience. I know these are trying times for all of you, seeking your desires, regardless of the consequences that you know you will face…” His eyes shifted from face to face, each one dropping their heads as his eyes fell upon them.
“You hide from your spouses, parents, bosses, friends…separate yourselves willingly…and for what!” He chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly, with that grin still stuck on his face. His dark beady eyes swept through the room again, locking eyes with a selection of familiar faces. They looked away from those dark eyes, both from fear and from shame. Those dark eyes were emotionless, the eyes of one who had seen the depths of the human soul and the darkness that lies therein and found that “There is none good, none righteous, no not one”. The eyes that had sifted through the facade of righteousness and delved into the heart and found that “The heart is more deceitful than all else, and is desperately sick; Who can understand it?”. Indeed he knew what humans were capable of…and knew the price that they had to pay; he knew it well. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a name tag and clipped it across his chest.

If you were to personify sin, what characteristics and persona would he/she have. Would we want to associate with them? From what we know about sin from the bible…we too would be in line at the Horror Affairs, either willingly or coaxed towards it by our own desires, wants or our pride… in short, ourselves. But sin wouldn’t just sit all day in the office, waiting for the willing to show up…oh no, sin would also invade houses and homes, stalking its occupants, waiting for moments of weakness, failure or even joy and excitement, for we don’t always sin on bad days do we? Oh but for those who have confronted sin, looked into the mirror and saw sin in themselves and turned towards the Saviour, for them there is hope. For them there is an alarm that goes off at the sign of the intruder and an armed response sends the intruder fleeing from the scene of the crime or a would be scene.

The truth is, as one of my favourite verses says: Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Are you paying the wages of sin or are you turning to the Saviour who pays and has paid the debt you owe?


About Nthato Morakabi

Nthato Morakabi is a South African published author. He has short stories appearing in both international and local anthologies, and has published his first book, Beneath the Wax, which opens his three-part novella series "Wax". He is an avid reader, blogger and writer.

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