Anonymous
Anonymous asked in Society & CultureReligion & Spirituality · 1 decade ago

How will God judge us? Is there a specific standard by which all will be?

judged, or do personal circumstances play a role?

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  • 1 decade ago
    Favorite Answer

    ONLY GOD WILL KNOW,

    BUT I STRONGLY ENCOURAGE YOU TO READ THIS STORY, PLEASE READ AND I HOPE IT WILL HELP YOU IN YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH GOD AS IT DID WITH MINE(I LOVE GOD)

    Subject: Fwd: A TEENAGER'S VIEW OF HEAVEN

    This will make you think...

    A TEENAGER'S VIEW OF HEAVEN

    17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a

    > class. The subject was what Heaven was like. '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 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.

    The Moores 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.'

    Brian's Essay: 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 endless 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 I 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 fill 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 'TV Shows I have watched', 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 shows 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. I 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, a lmost unused. I

    pulled on its handle and a smaAnd then I saw it.. The title bore 'People I Have Shared the Gospel With.'

    >

    > The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, a lmost 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 ha ve 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 thin k 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.

    >

    >

    >

    >

    >

    > 'For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever

    >

    > believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.'-John 3:16. 'I can

    >

    > do all things through Christ who strengthens me. '-Phil. 4:13. If you

    >

    > feel the same way, forward it so the love of Jesus will touch their lives

    >

    > also. My 'People I shared the gospel with' file just got bigger, how about

    >

    > yours?

  • 4 years ago

    You can't assume God is like a little boy out burning ants on the sidewalk with a magnifying glass. You have to read the whole book and put things in context and understand the culture and people of that time. I don't think God needs me to justify his actions, but if you look at the circumstances you'll find that these were not your friendly neighborhood good citizens going about their normal lives and God just decided to zap them. In fact, you will find numerous references in the OT testifying to God's patience and continuous faithfulness to His people. Similarly, God has given clear guidance and a plan for eternal life with Him. If you end up in hell, it's not because God sent you there. It was your choice. We all make choices. If you don't want to believe in God, that's your choice, but don't delude yourself into thinking you are the source of all truth. There's a lot we just can't understand because we don't have all the facts and can't see the big picture the way God does. I do believe God does what is best for humanity and to fulfill His purpose. As a solitary human, I can honestly say I don't know exactly why certain things happen, but I trust God will do right. Here's an example (may not be great but you decide): In order to protect our interests and purpose as a nation we often send our soldiers to war. They kill and sometimes are killed for the sake of a "greater cause". Why should God not have the same privilege? Nobody likes wars (well I guess some do, but most sane people don't). The Bible says God does not delight in the suffering of the wicked. But it is necessary.

  • G C
    Lv 7
    1 decade ago

    Just like the sign in all amusement parks that show if you are tall enough to ride the ride, the Bible is the standard by which you will be judged as either Good or Evil.

  • Karl P
    Lv 7
    1 decade ago

    If He doesn't See "The Blood" on the individual (Just as the death angel passed by the 'blood on the door-posts' in The Old Testament/Prophesy of Jesus Coming, then He will say He doesn't Know you.) It is Only by His Son and what He did for us that we will enter and not what 'we' have done! Period! <')))><

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  • Anonymous
    1 decade ago

    By His righteous Son, Jesus Christ, as His Benchmark. We have no righteousness of our own so we cling to the righteousness of Christ for our salvation.

    BTW scripture states that the Holy Bible Word of God is actually Jesus Himself. So in that sense we are judged by the Bible. It is the owner's manual for the human soul! And like the driver's manual, we are responsible for all of its contents!

  • 1 decade ago

    So an ALL LOVING god is going to judge you?

    What a prick

  • Anonymous
    1 decade ago

    It will be based on whether or not you knew about Jesus and whether or not you accepted his FREE GIFT.

  • Anonymous
    1 decade ago

    if you are a chick he will judge you by the size of your ****.

    no wait that's me

  • 1 decade ago

    You shouldn't be worried about your silly God.

    It is the FSM's judgment you should worry about. HE loves EVERYONE, unlike that God who hates anyone that doesn't worship him, gays, divorcees, little kids, etc.

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