In the beginning, there was light, and from that light, life emerged. Each soul was a spark, a tiny fragment of the divine, destined to inhabit the earth and experience the wonders and trials of the human form. In this world, the essence of our being was a battlefield where the forces of love and hate, good and evil, waged an eternal war.
I was born on a crisp spring morning, my spirit descending from the realms beyond to merge with a fragile, newborn body. As my eyes blinked open, taking in the colors and shapes of this new existence, I felt an ancient struggle stir within me. It was as if two immense, opposing forces had laid claim to my soul.
The teachings of our ancestors spoke of a great conflict between Jesus Christ and the Devil. These celestial beings, with their immense power and influence, could not directly interact with our physical world. Instead, they chose to manifest through us, entering our vessels to spread their messages of love and hate, peace and chaos.
As I grew, the evidence of this cosmic battle became clear. I witnessed acts of profound kindness and devastating cruelty, often from the same individuals. It was said that when Christ’s spirit entered a person, their eyes would shine with an ethereal light, and their actions would be driven by compassion, forgiveness, and selflessness. Conversely, when the Devil took hold, the darkness in their gaze would reveal a soul lost to anger, jealousy, and malice.
My grandmother was the first to explain these mysteries to me. “We are not alone in this world,” she said, her voice trembling with age and wisdom. “Within each of us, there is a struggle, a choice. Jesus and the Devil are always near, seeking to guide us towards their own ends.”
Her words haunted me, especially on nights when the world felt heavy and my dreams were filled with shadowy figures and radiant beings. In school, we were taught to recognize the signs: a helping hand, a cruel word, a sacrifice, a betrayal. Every action was a ripple in the spiritual war that raged unseen.
One summer, when I was fourteen, our village experienced an unprecedented surge of kindness. People who had been at odds for years suddenly reconciled. Strangers offered help without expecting anything in return. It was as if a divine presence had settled over us, casting away the shadows.
But darkness is never far behind the light. That winter, a terrible tragedy struck. A fire ravaged half the village, leaving many homeless and a few lost to the flames. Whispers spread that the Devil had found his way into our hearts, exploiting our fears and weaknesses.
I stood at the edge of the charred remains, feeling a deep, sorrowful conflict within me. Why must we be the vessels for such powerful beings? Why must we bear the weight of their eternal struggle?
One evening, as the sun set behind the hills, painting the sky with hues of red and gold, I sat alone by the river. The sound of water flowing over stones was soothing, and I closed my eyes, seeking solace.
“Child,” a gentle voice called. I opened my eyes to see a figure bathed in a soft, radiant light. His presence was calming, and I knew, without a doubt, that this was the spirit of Jesus Christ. “Do not be afraid,” he said. “You are never alone. Love and hate, good and evil, they exist within you, but so does the power to choose.”
Tears filled my eyes as his words washed over me. “But how can we know the right path when the battle is so fierce?”
“By listening to your heart,” he replied, placing a hand over my chest. “The spirit of love is always there, whispering, guiding. It is quieter than the shouts of hate, but it is steadfast and true.”
As he faded away, I felt a warmth blossom within me, a light that pushed back the encroaching darkness. From that moment on, I vowed to let love guide my actions, to be a vessel for the divine light, no matter how strong the pull of the shadows.
In a world where we are not alone, where greater beings vie for our souls, the true power lies in our choices. We are the battleground, but we are also the warriors. And in every act of kindness, in every moment of compassion, we tip the scales in favor of the light.
De Leon Publishing 