May. 18th, 2011

paterelohim: ([with] who stand before the throne)
In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth. A few epochs later the hairless apes pranced onto the scene to the tune of a painfully slow evolutionary two-step, and one-two-three the first angel tripped and fell face-first into an alternate realm of his own design. They said the physical fall itself was over a year long, and that his landing opened holes in the earth that swallowed entire villages.

Such were the days of yore, when sacrifices paid with blood and there was a God in Heaven. Today the halls of the seven Heavens shone a little brighter, the radiance of Creation and Grace burning just a little hotter; the Heavenly equivalent of a sunny day. Somewhere higher than the stars, in the lofty reaches of the Seventh Heaven where only the three Seraphim and their Lord walked, the door to the throne room was shut tight. Nobody entered the seventh heaven much anymore. Once it had been the sometimes playground of the archangels, where even the lesser angels dared to peek on occasion, but three Graces didn't fill the vast halls quite well enough, and it lay empty more often than not. They crowded the other six, leaving the throne room's beautiful antechamber deserted.

A presence stirred in its deeps, blinding light pouring from behind the golden door, and something too enormous for words and too perfect to look at moved through the impossible halls. The light flared out like trumpets and transubstantiation; after long moments the arcing beams started to fall inwards, coalescing in what looked like the figure of a man. It was action like He hadn't taken in a very long time.

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Chuck Shurley | God

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