His
last words reverberated through the corridors of time, and as I lay
collapsed on the cool, marble of the Balcony floor, I could somehow
still look over the edge of existence, even through my tears. And
instead of the Blue Marble of our Home World, or the expanse of
star-filled space, I saw a vast undifferentiated void of darkness. I
could sense, but not perceive with my eyes, a roiling cauldron of raw
energy. Something entirely unique and inconceivably powerful was
taking place.
In
the background, barely audible at first, but growing rapidly and
steadily in volume, was a chorus of increasingly thunderous song,
splitting the darkness in galaxy-sized wave after wave of pure
melodious joy. If sound had form and color it would be this. If music
could shape reality, it would be this music.
I
forgot my shame and my relief. I forgot who, and even where I was. I
forgot everything about me, and was carried along inexorably in what
I came to realize could only be the Symphony of Creation at the very
dawn of Time.
And
then, and then… the Voice.
It
exploded across the vast infant Creation so that all else was
rendered mute and invisible and insubstantial. It filled all
existence with something, or perhaps Someone, so
vibrant, so very alive, that life itself, from that instant
onward, became something separate and distinct from the Voice, but
still inextricably of It, and from It and through
It; sourced and sustained by It.
And
I heard the very first Words of Power spoken into the void and
roiling darkness.
"LET
THERE BE LIGHT!"
And
all darkness fled into nothingness and all around and through
everything was light!
It
was a light so all-encompassing, so gloriously radiant that it was
somehow tangible and solid and more real than anything before
or since.
And
I witnessed and heard the commanding hymn of Creation, and saw the
foundation of the world and time and space and energy being spoken
into existence by the Voice Himself in a marvelous crescendo of love
and power, as I sat enthralled and self-forgotten.
I
was audience to the Sons of God continuing their chorus of joyous
praise at the Dawn of Creation.
And
then, somehow, before and behind everything, and yet at the very
center of this new Creation, I saw the image of a Lamb, as if He had
been slain.
In
the next instant, the Blue Planet, the vortex of God's eternal focus
and attention, filled my viewpoint, as my consciousness was thrown
through layers of time and space, deep down into the atmosphere
blanketing the world.
And
there I was, at the very navel of the planet, where all the
slipstreams and incredibly complex threads of redemptive history wove
themselves into a brilliant and complicated tapestry of human
history.
And
I saw outside the City of David, the very same all-encompassing Light
of Creation condensed and concealed within an oh-so-human Infant
wrapped in swaddling clothes, laying atop a rough food trough in a
Shepherd's Cave.
And
the Sons of God were once more assembled in a chorus of resounding
joy that filled the heavens and shook the earth.
And
I heard the Voice, yet again, authoritative and powerful, speaking
ageless words of prophetic comfort.
“Therefore
the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, the virgin shall
conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel; God with
us!"
And
the same Voice, again,
"The
people who walked in darkness Have seen a great light; Those who
dwelt in the land of the shadow of death, Upon them a light has
shined."
Then
I came back to myself, not willingly, but because I had no choice,
else I would have stayed content (and more than content) as awestruck
witness to events so majestic and powerful that I could have spent
eternity immersed in their everlasting significance.
I
knew by the wonder on my companion's face that he had shared with me
all that I had just experienced.
"Why
has He done this for me?" I whispered. And by that I meant
everything, from the Creation, to the end of the Age, and on into
Eternity.
"Because
He loves you," he said, with unshakable conviction.
"Look
to the Cross," he repeated, “and let your heart soar on wings
of eagles!”
© Bill Lilley 2011, 2013
