I Am A Thought is a short story by Dave Gilpin and a part of the Mind Map allegory of the mind of a Christian. Through it, Dave reveals the war that exists between the new regions of our minds and the Fallen Regions of our minds. He shows us how we can win this war through building new habits ad strongholds within the mind, as well as destroying the old destructive habits that exist within us. It all starts at The Grand Central Station of the Will. Let the journey begin…





I am a thought.

Just one, solitary, innocent thought.

I was born in the spring of 2007 when the incident occurred.

It was like any other day.

The Grand Entrance was filled with happy thoughts, giggling thoughts and the excitable collection of shallow and wondering thoughts.

The minute I arrived, everything changed. Bright thoughts dispersed like mice. The air dampened as the temperature plummeted. I was left all alone at the mercy of the Great Decider, the Great Master…. The Governor.

I am a thought.

I was born at the moment of rejection, the moment of dismissal, the moment of severing. I am the echo of words harshly spoken. I am alive only because of the cruel tongue of a faithless companion.

All of a sudden and out from nowhere, I see a second thought appearing from the shadows.

I recognise this cousin of mine. It’s a thought who’s only task is to answer the question ‘why?’, ‘Why did it even happen?’, ‘Why me?’, ‘Why now?’, ‘Why keep going?’ ‘Why is this happening to me?’. His sweaty, nervous hand took a hold of mine and together we head towards the large flight of stairs immediately in front of us.

I am simply an observation. My cousin is just an intuition. We have no power to decide our future. My cousin, however, informs me that where we end up will determine the future of you – the reader’s – world.

As we start to climb the stairs different voices begin to call out over the tannoy reminding us of the multiplicity of trains ready to depart to their chosen destination.

The floor beneath us is littered with abandoned tickets that remind me that this is not any train station – it is in fact The Grand Central Station of the Will – the most powerful station in my world – and the most powerful station in your world. The owner of this station is my Master and my Lord.

I’m soon able to catch a glimpse, through the arched windows at the top of the stairs, of the distant panorama of the land I now inhabit.

To the east, it looks like cities are being born – tall cranes congregate in distinct regions; skyscrapers tower over half constructed buildings; trains carrying supplies criss-cross over the vast countryside.

Just as a baby recognises his mother, I recognise that these trains are Trains of Thought that fuel the cities with everything they need to grow taller and stronger.

To the west, a yellow sulphuric smog hovers over clumps of cities that appear like large, fortified metropolises. I can see not only the silhouette of cranes, but the flashes of explosions and the sudden crumbling of walls. Again train tracks criss-cross the flooded, muddied countryside of this Fallen World.

Suddenly we’re interrupted by a tannoy announcement from a west facing platform that seems to be called ‘The Platform of Imagination’.

Instead of answering the question ‘why is all this isolation and rejection happening?’, the tannoy gives a bleak and pessimistic assessment of the future. The smell of fear begins to fill the air. It is obvious that its words were intended to scare The Great Decider – the sole owner and Master of Grand Central. I look around and notice that the bridge that we are standing on is called The Bridge of Decision.

At that moment I catch a glimpse of two other thoughts boarding the Train of Fear on the Platform of Imagination. The notice board says that the train is heading to the City of Self Pity, stopping only at Confusionville , Anxiety Town and the Bad Lands of Temper.

As the train departs I become aware of a faint glow coming from the one and only east facing platform. I not only catch the eye of the well presented Platform Assistant, but I can feel his eyes looking at me – eyes like a blazing fire, like molten liquid drawing me to his platform.

It was obvious that the Grand Master of Grand Central had made a clear decision. We walked straight past the Platform of Imagination – the Governor had refused to fear the worst.

My heart raced as a voice shouted, almost screamed, through the tannoy – ‘You’re a loser, that’s what you are.’ ‘Abandoned, abused, a victim of your own making’. I look around to see the culprit – it was the Station Master of the second Western Platform called ‘The Platform of Emotion’. Above him was a sign saying ‘Two minutes to departure. Destination – Inferiorityville. Stopping at the town of Bitterness and the city of Rejection. Change trains at Inferiorityville for Depression Town and Paranoia Village’.

With no say in the matter, we felt our feet slipping uncontrollably towards the stairs that led down to this platform called Emotion.

I felt unstable in all my ways – caught in a vacuum of indecision created by the Governor of the Grand Central Station of the Will. I was beginning to slide backwards and tumble forwards in what could only be described as the symptoms of Double Mindedness.

As I stumble, I sense the staring eyes of the Assistant of the Eastern Platform – his eyes piercing me with kindness and compassion both undeserved and incomprehensible.

Suddenly the sliding stopped. The Governor had made a decision. It was as if he was fed up with the turmoil of emotion; the negative mood swings, the oppressive atmosphere and the vicious backbiting.

Though the skylight directly above us, I caught a glimpse of a plane – a fighter plane – heading towards one of the stronghold cities of the Western Fallen Region. Within minutes, an explosion ripped into the City of Self Reliance, with shrapnel shooting across the swamplands, smashing through the north facing windows of the City of Self Pity.

As the plane flew low on its return to the east, I could see on its tail fin the two letters ‘I’ and ‘F’ – IF. It was clear that the name of the plane was ‘James 1’. I recalled seeing a poster of James 1 at the entrance of Grand Central – it claimed ‘IF any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault’.

I watched the plane return to a runway situated on a large, flat chunk of raised rock. Other planes rested on the runway and above flew a banner that read ‘Weapons of Warfare’. They were obviously the Planes of IF – the Planes of Prayer.

In the far distance, I notice a river. Towns and cities sprawl along its banks. It appears to be a river brimming with life and joy that seems to mysteriously rise up out from a place deep within my Governor’s very being.

After regaining our stability, my cousin (the Questioning Thought) along with myself (the Observational Thought), were surrounded by what can only be described as ‘The Voice of Reason’.

Over the tannoy came the words ‘Eye for any eye!’ ‘If they reject you, reject them!’ ‘It’s payback time!’ The sign on the Platform of Reason said ‘All aboard now to the town of Retribution, first stop – Sarcasm City, stopping at Cynicsville, The City of Slander and the town called Malice.’

After an initial flurry down the stairs leading to the Reasonable Platform, we head immediately back up. Something had captured the attention of my Master.

I noticed that on the eastern side if the station, the paint on the walls was all new. There was no litter and the air smelt both fresh and clean. The large sign claimed it was ‘The Entrance to the New Mind’. It was noticeably different to the western side of the station where graffiti and mould had almost covered the sign saying ‘The Entrance to the Fallen Mind’.

The Questioning Thought gripped my hand and wondered what was it that caught our masters attention? Had he too seen the one solitary Assistant that stood on the singular Eastern Platform called ‘Obedience’? Had something reminded Him of some higher truth?

The last and final blow came from the western Platform of Instinct. Basic Instinct. The Station Master flicked the switch and spoke almost sleazily into the loud speaker system – ‘All aboard for Lust Town. First stop Carnal City, second stop Theftville, third stop The Love of Money’. ‘Blow it all’ he said ‘Let’s get the party started’. ‘Don’t worry, be happy’.

Our Governor, our Supreme Commander, had finally decided our fate. Before we heard the final words of temptation our heads are turned. The Attendant on the Eastern Platform was not only looking in our direction but his arms were raised, like a father reaching out to a long lost child.

Together, we moved towards him, descending the stairs to this Platform of Obedience – guided entirely by the will of our Leader.

A call is given – Train 23 is about to leave. Emblazoned across the side of the train are five words – ‘The Lord is my Shepherd’. Another train arrives on the adjacent track. This train is called ‘Faithful’. Over the entire train are written the words – ‘Being confident of this – He who began a good work will be faithful to complete it’.

We board Psalm 23. Immediately upon sitting down, my quaking cousin of intuition fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. He was relieved. We head past wastelands that have begun to flower again. We pass armored vehicles called to protect the New Mind, coming from the direction of the City of Peace. We pass Fields of Dreams and new possibilities. We pass the recycling centres of Kindness and Gentleness. In the distance is a city called ‘Goodness’, made entirely of glass, as if it’s got nothing to hide – it’s a city of real sincerity and real integrity.

We arrive at the Metropolis of Love, We’re given the keys to a high rise apartment that would become ours to live in, and we’re given a permit to work. Our Master has chosen our fate – to strengthen the Stronghold of Love in the New Region of the Renewed Mind.

In the far distance, over in the Western Fallen Region of the Mind, I hear a series of explosions. As the Cities of the New Mind grow stronger and taller, the Cities of the Fallen Mind are starting to collapse through both the Planes of Prayer and the drastic lack of supply trains. Disuse has caused one of the cities to already become a Ghost Town – no longer influencing, no longer dominating, no longer calling the shots.

I am a thought.

Just one solitary innocent thought.

I was born in the Spring of 2007 at the moment of rejection.

Today I work for the Metropolis of Love.

Today I’m a part of the renewing of the mind.

The transformation of a human life.

My master is now The Holy Spirit. Yet, at that crucial moment in time at the Grand Central Station of the Will, my Master was you, the reader. My Governor was you, the reader. My Great Decider, my Lord, my Owner was you, the reader.

The skyline of your mind will determine the skyline of your future. The Spirit creates it, but you – yes, you – decide it.

Just one Thought

But where will it go?

You decide.