I was watching a documentary on my computer when the doorbell rang.
I wasn’t expecting anyone and no one had messaged or called to say they were coming over.
I peered through the keyhole to find The Devil standing there.
I don’t mean the the horned one; I mean the one who had made me go through hell and whose occasional messages still tempted me to believe there was hope.
Did I open the door and invite him in?
That’s what the old me would have done.
I didn’t want to dance with the Devil again.
I ignored it and sat down again to watch the show.
It might not have been 40 days in the desert, but Jesus still would have been proud.