"It's
simple, really," he said. "I am you as you will be in your
future, while being the you that God has intended before the
foundation of the world. I am you without all the bother of linear
time. Don't get bogged down in the details. They're beyond your
current understanding. Suffice it to say that I am a glimpse of
things to come."
"But
I don't like you!"
"But
you do! What's not to like?"
"You're,
well, unnerving. And a bit conceited."
"How's
that?"
"You
think you're better than me."
"That's
not conceit. It's true. I am better than you. In every way,
but so what? I had nothing to do with it."
"I
don't like being inferior. I want to be best."
"I'm
afraid you're puny idea of best is rather meaningless here. You would
not want it any other way, believe me."
It
was disconcerting being a dead man, and talking with a guy who said
he was me, who seemed to morph seamlessly from one age to the next
without so much as blinking. I felt imbecilic, unable to grasp what
was really going on, and trying desperately to figure out just what
kind of experience this was because it couldn't be reality. Or could
it?
"Think
of it this way," he advised, "you are no longer looking at
a shadowy world bound by the laws of time and space. You are in the
realm above all that, the realm from which those laws emanate like
the dazzling reflections of sunlight off the surface of a vast ocean.
You are on the Balcony of Heaven able to look out into an existence
of true, unencumbered LIFE, the wellspring and source of all that you
have ever known. It is not really anything like the
skipping-across-the-surface-of-time kind of viewpoint and existence
that you're used to and it will be quietly overwhelming at first,
knowing you (and I do know you, don't forget), but you will adjust. I
promise."
"I
hear your voice,” I said. “and understand every word, but you're
stringing them together in sentences that make no sense. Plus, I
don't really want to pay attention right now, and I dislike it when
you give me that condescending, superior smile after you tell me
something you know I won't get."
"You
liked my smile before. You thought it added to my aura of
amiability."
"Yeah,
but now I know who you are, and I don't like it."
"Ah!
So you believe me, then?"
"Let's
just say I'm willing to suspend my disbelief in the hopes of bringing
this episode to some kind of sensible closure. And maybe getting
outside this room into that amazing sunlight will help. It looks
really nice outside, like the world used to look when I was a
kid, before I knew what it was really like."
As
soon as I voiced the desire, I was outside - on the edge of
Heaven, on its Balcony, no less - gazing out over the most
fantastically satisfying landscape I had ever scene. It was perfect
in every aspect, with that magical proportion of light and shade,
brilliant colors, pastel shadows, grand sweeping vistas of majestic
terrain, interspersed with intriguing views of cozy woods,
undulating, grass-covered hills, and sparkling, seemingly endless
bodies of diamond-clear water. And all permeated by a sense of peace
and rightness that made me forget to inhale.
As
I looked more closely (and here I marveled again at the acuity and
range of my vision), I saw more species and varieties of plants and
animals than I could ever have counted. They seemed to span all known
terrestrial climates and ages, extinct, futuristic, massive,
minuscule, flyers, crawlers, creepers, swimmers, floaters, and some
with seemingly inexplicable forms of mobility.
All
were of such noble countenance and perfect form, from the least of
them to the greatest, that each was a brilliant masterpiece in and of
itself. Together they formed a magnificent, living tapestry on such a
scale, and with such precision, that it was clearly the work of an
Intelligence and Artistry beyond anything or Anyone conceivable.
There
was a lot to take in. I could have spent eons from just this
one vantage point and not exhausted a tenth of what I was seeing. A
billionth.
"You
need to breathe," he said gently. I glanced his way for just a
millisecond, unwilling to look away from the amazing panorama before
me for more time than that, and was not surprised to see his eyes
shining in wonder as much as I imagined my own to be.
"You
said I'm a dead man," I reminded him quietly, gazing back over
the railing. "Why do I need to breathe?"
He
laughed at me then, kindly, affectionately. I wanted to be annoyed,
but couldn't drum up the requisite sense of self-entitlement.
Everything
before me was just too vast and beautiful and unimaginably
gratifying.
© Bill Lilley 2011, 2013
