Message-ID: <8028777.1075851900555.JavaMail.evans@thyme> Date: Wed, 7 Mar 2001 08:59:00 -0800 (PST) From: jackie.hewett@enron.com To: jan.anderson@enron.com, larry.campbell@enron.com, hershy@home.com, jansgrapevine@home.com, ed.lawrence@enron.com, sigrid.macpherson@enron.com, dan.mowrer@enron.com, rvdavis1@earthlink.net, fsosa@enron.com, dianne.unruh@enron.com Subject: The Room Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ANSI_X3.4-1968 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-From: Jackie Hewett X-To: Jan Anderson, Larry Campbell, hershy harty , "jansgrapevine" , Ed Lawrence, Sigrid MacPherson, Dan Mowrer, "Rosemarie" , fsosa@enron.com, Dianne Unruh X-cc: X-bcc: X-Folder: \Larry_Campbell_Nov2001_1\Notes Folders\Discussion threads X-Origin: CAMPBELL-L X-FileName: lcampbe.nsf ---------------------- Forwarded by Jackie Hewett/ET&S/Enron on 03/07/2001 03:55 PM --------------------------- Ronnie Brickman 03/06/2001 01:15 PM To: gennallen@hotmail.com, Matt Ammerman , amy.baker@enron.com @ Enron, ballardjk@yahoo.com, Bob Bandel/ET&S/Enron@Enron, CallieB23@aol.com, lylelinda@logixonline.net, David Boothe/ET&S/Enron@Enron, sjbrick@yahoo.com, "lori britton" , Ricky Brown/ET&S/Enron@Enron, David Carbajal/ET&S/Enron@Enron, rd_cates@yahoo.com, sarah_kate_2002@yahoo.com., jed@amaonline.com, , sdevor@hotmail.com, dodsonshelley@aol.com, George E Gardner/ET&S/Enron@Enron, aalbers@amaonline.com, , graybillart@us.inter.net, vpgraybill@nwosu.edu, sally_gunter@hotmail.com, "mark haney" , Jackie Hewett/ET&S/Enron@Enron, Danny Hostetler/ET&S/Enron@Enron, Randy Howard/ET&S/Enron@Enron, , Rich Jolly/ET&S/Enron@Enron, Fred Jordan/ET&S/Enron@Enron, , Steve Klimesh/ET&S/Enron@Enron, "Chelsea Kroger" , Bobbie LaChapelle/GPGFIN/Enron@Enron, Rick Loveless/ET&S/Enron@Enron, Sigrid MacPherson/GPGFIN/Enron@Enron, , , Angela Mendez/GPGFIN/Enron@Enron, Greg Mall/ET&S/Enron@Enron, "Rhett O'Briant" , John Ragsdale/ET&S/Enron@Enron, "Robyn Penry" , dross@logixonline.net, simpson5@itl2.itlnet.net, , , artaylor124@hotmail.com, mthomason@logixonline.net, , Lonnie Trout/ET&S/Enron@Enron, Dianne Unruh/ET&S/Enron@Enron, mwallace@fone.net, Gloria Wier/ET&S/Enron@Enron, Walt Williams/ET&S/Enron@Enron, mmpmw@aol.com cc: Subject: The Room This is an old story, maybe you haven't heard or seen it before. I thought it was worth passing on. ???? I think it will touch your heart............. >>>? About this story - Here is some background on the author that you >>>? might be interested in.? Procrastinating as usual, 17-year-old >>>? Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for the >>>? Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting. It was his turn to >>>? lead the discussion so he sat down and wrote. >>>? He showed the essay, titled "The Room" to his mother, Beth, before >>>? he headed out the door. "I wowed 'em." he later told his father, Bruce. >>>? "It's a killer, It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote."? It >>>? also was the last. Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when >>>? a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary >>>? Valley High School. Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents >>> >>>?????desperately wanted every piece of his life near them - the crepe >>>? paper that had adorned his locker during his senior football season, notes >>>? from classmates and teachers, his homework. >>> >>>? Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering >>>? Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's >>>? life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore >>> >>>?????realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes >>>? such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." >>>? Mr.? Moore said.? Brian Moore died May 27, 1997 - the day after Memorial >>>? Day. >>> >>>? He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off >>>? Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He >>> >>>?????emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line >>>? and was electrocuted. >>>?????Brian seemed to excel at everything he did. He was an honor student. >>>? He told his parents he loved them "a hundred times a day", Mrs. Moore >>>? said.? He was a star wide receiver for the Teary's Valley Football team >>>? and had earned a four-year scholarship to Capital University in Columbus >>>? because of his athletic and academic abilities.? He took it upon himself >>>? to learn how to help a fellow student who used a wheelchair at school. >>>? During one homecoming ceremony, Brian walked on his tiptoes so that the >>>? girl he was escorting wouldn't be embarrassed about being taller than him. >>>? He adored his kid brother, Bruce, now 14. He often escorted his >>>? grand-mother, Evelyn Moore, who lives in Columbus, to church.? "I always >>>? called him the "deep thinker", Evelyn said of her eldest grandson. >>> >>>?????Two years after his death, his family still struggles to understand >>>? why Brian was taken from them. They find comfort at the cemetery where >>>? Brian is buried, just a few blocks from their home. They visit daily. A >>>? candle and dozens of silk and real flowers keep vigil over the gravesite. >>> >>>?????The Moore's framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the >>>? family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a >>>? point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," >>>? Mrs. Moore said of the essay. >>> >>>? She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after >>>? death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see >>>? him again someday." Mrs. Moore said.? "It just hurts so bad now." >>> >>>? ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ >>> >>>?????The Room... >>> >>>? In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the >>>? room.? There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall >>>? covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in >>>? libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. >>>? But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly >>>? endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. >>? > >>>? As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was >>>? one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping >>>? through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that >>> >>>?????recognized the names written on each one. And then without being >>>? told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files >>>? was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of >>>? my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. >>> >>>?????A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within >>>? me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some >>>? brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so >>>? intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. >>> >>>?????A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have >>>? betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. >>>? "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I >>>? Have Laughed at."? Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things >>>? I've yelled at my brothers".? Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have >>>? Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." >>>? I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. >>> >>>?????Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer >>>? than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had >>>? lived. >>> >>>?????Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to write each >>>? of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this >>>? truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my >>>? signature. >>> >>>? When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I have listened to," I realized >>>? the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, >>>? and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file.? I >>>? shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music but more by the vast >>>? time I knew that file represented.? When I came to a file marked "Lustful >>>? Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only >>>? an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at >>> >>>? its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been >>>? recorded. >>> >>>?????An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: >>>? "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have >>>? to destroy them!" >>> >>>? In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I >>>? had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and >>>? began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. >>>? became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as >>>? steel when I tried to tear it.? Defeated and utterly helpless, I >>>? returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I >>>? let out a long, self-pitying sigh.? And then I saw it. The title bore >>> >>>?????"People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than >>>? those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small >>>? box not more than three inches long fell into my hands.? I could count the >>>? cards it contained on one hand.? And then the tears came.? I began to >>>? weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt.? They started in my stomach and shook >>>? through me. I fell on my knees and cried.? I cried out of shame, from the >>>? overwhelming shame of it all. >>> >>>?????The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must >>>? ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.? But >>>? then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. >>> >>>?????No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched >>>? helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't >>>? bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to >>>? look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to >>>? intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? >>>? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me >>>? with pity in His eyes.? But this was a pity that didn't anger me. >>? > >>>?????I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry >>>? again.? He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so >>>? many things.? But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. >>> >>>?????Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one >>>? end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His >>>? name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could >>>? find to say was "No, no, " as I pulled the card from Him. His name >>>? shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so >>>? dark, so alive. >>> >>>?????The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He >>>? gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the >>>? cards. >>> >>>?????I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the >>>? next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my >>>? side.? He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I >>>? stood up, and He led me out of the room.?? There was no lock on its >>>? door.There were still cards to be written. >>> >>>?????"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Phil. 4:13 >>> >>>? "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever >>>? believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." >>> >>>?????If you feel the same way forward it to as many people as you can so >>>? the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. >>> >>>? My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about >>? > yours?