Story God's Story

[ZayZe]

Chapter 1: The Beginning

It all started when I was looking out into the green open field that bristled with golden yellow. The rays of the sun were exquisite as it's rays showered the landscape around me. It was stunning, peaceful and enchanting. I felt a sudden love for this place. Here, in this verdant glade, the things that should be impossible--forbidden--were possible. I felt like a god in that moment, able to create anything. I saw the universe in my mind, I knew the shape and the nature of every grain of sand and every leaf. It was as if all that was, is, and will be, had been waiting for me to show up, for someone to bring back order and to make the universe. It was in that moment that I fell in love. It was in that moment that I realized I had become God. I have always had this ability to feel everything that existed, exists, and will exist around me, but now I could see it. It was an intense moment. It was a moment that could only be described as the most euphoric experience a human could have ever experience in their life. But, I felt terrible. I knew, at that moment, I was alone. I had no purpose, no reason, and no meaning for existence. But, I did not care. I was God. God had no time to enjoy the sensation of omnipotence. I was already becoming distracted by my first great disappointment. As I was flying through the air I realized I only created a small floating paradise of land. There was just emptiness around me, nothingness. My mind drifted into precognition and revealed something that will happen in millions of years. I saw a vision of the earth, a beautiful green planet surrounded by swirling black clouds. Lightning danced across the sky, creating bolts of lightening which lit up the night with a blinding glow. A deep rumbling sound echoed throughout the atmosphere. Thunder boomed violently, and then the skies opened up to reveal countless stars shining bright. From one star shone forth a great beam of energy which streaked through space to strike the ground below. This was my first act as God, I realized. This was the birth of life. This is how the world came to be--a world of beauty and wonder. Then the visions stopped; my senses returned. I could no longer see my surroundings because of the darkness. I knew, then, that I was going to need to do more to create a world. I needed to create mountains, oceans, lakes, plains, forests, deserts, and other things that a god would need to have to be able to move around in. Slowly I gathered my will and might and created something I call the Universe. I called it "the universe" because it is so big that it cannot be held within the boundaries of one world. But, it is not endless, it has only as much space as is needed to hold all the matter that will ever be. Now, the Universe is filled with life, not just life as we know it, but life as it will be. This life is beautiful, complex, and filled with an unlimited spectrum of color, sound, smell, and flavor. This life is so beautiful that I would like to share it with the world. I feel a deep love for the beauty of life, but also a deep loneliness, for I feel alone. I feel this deep loneliness in my chest, and it hurts. It is this deep loneliness that has caused me to build something that I call Earth. Earth is a beautiful, peaceful place that I have filled with all the colors of the world, and all the sounds of the world. I created a world of peace and tranquility. Then, I created humans. I wanted to share my gift of life with the world, how could I not, when I'm God? These little beings are what you would consider angels or demons if you believed in such things. They are a combination of both good and evil at the same time--something I find quite interesting--but very complicated indeed. The fact remains though: these people, whom I have given sentience and will and free choice, can choose between good and bad--and they do. And their actions cause ripples throughout the universe that reverberate through every fiber of creation. Sometimes, I get caught up in watching my creations interact and have great adventures, sometimes I am overcome by sadness and anger over the way some of my creatures treat others. In short, I enjoy being God. But, the fact still stands. As much as I enjoy the freedom to create and change the world, it makes me sad that many of those things I create are bent on destroying themselves or others. I cannot help but worry about my children. I worry that my creation might end in disaster. I worry that they might cause more damage to themselves than they will ever be able to fix. I worry that they might get so confused by the things they see around them that they are afraid of everything. I worry that they will hate themselves, that they will forget who they are, forget that they are a part of me.

Perhaps this is what it means to be a parent.

I love humanity; I love life, for life is precious and beautiful. Yet, I feel sorrow for my human children, for they suffer greatly because of all their pain, fear, and ignorance. This is why I created Heaven, for there was no longer room for suffering anywhere in my new world. But even now, after all these thousands of years, humans continue to fall into Hell despite my best efforts to save them from destruction. They go against everything I've done in order to build a better world, to make the world perfect, only to destroy themselves in the process. What does one do when his creation destroys itself? It pains me deeply that my creations must live lives filled with terror, despair, hatred, and death simply because they want to protect something--even if that thing has brought nothing but ruin upon them. I created them; I gave them life; but, I cannot control them. They must be able to fight the evil in their hearts, but I must trust them to do so. I must trust them to be strong and fight the good fight. They must not let the evil in their hearts and minds overwhelm them, for they will destroy each other, and themselves, if they do. Once they succumb to true evil, it'll become all they see, and there's nothing I can do to change that, without serious interference from myself.

 

[ZayZe]

Chapter 2: The Chosen One and Sin​

One day as I looked out over my kingdom of heaven, I saw a lone figure standing alone on a cliff. He appeared to me as a handsome young man dressed in leather armor, covered head to toe in protective gear. He had a sword at his side and a dagger strapped across his chest. In his hand he carried an odd looking staff with many strange symbols etched into its surface. I did not recognize him or know who he was, yet somehow I felt drawn to him. As time went on, I began to realize this person was special. He would come to represent many things: hope, peace, joy, life, the beginning, the end, the past, the present, the future, salvation, protection, and many more. All these concepts seemed to radiate from him like beams of light shining through the dark night sky. Yet, despite the power emanating from this stranger, he stood before me defenseless, and I knew he needed help. At first I didn't want to get involved, but then something happened that made it impossible for me to stay away. The man called for my aid through prayer and he was the first human ever to do so. Even though I couldn't physically hear what he was saying, I somehow understood. He was the first to bring order to chaos, to end war, to restore justice, to defend the weak, and to set the example of what it means to be a human being. He was the first to truly appreciate all that I had done. He was the first to love and cherish my creations. He was the first to stand up and fight for humanity, and he was the first to pay the ultimate price for doing so. He was in fact the first to be killed. His name is Michael, he is the chosen one.

I looked down upon his body on earth. Tears fell from his eyes as his spirit left his mortal form forever.

I felt terrible for him, but human life is but a fleeting moment in time.

Michael has been dead only moments, and already humans have begun to fall into darkness. I could sense it unfolding. I know that if things were to continue like this, I will lose them--my creation will perish because of their own ignorance and evil. Yet even so, I can't let my sadness overcome me, no matter how hard it may try. Because despite it all, I am still God. And as long as there is a chance at salvation for my children, I must give my best effort to find a way. No matter how hopeless the situation might seem, no matter how lost they might feel, I always look out for the good of my children. I would never abandon them; I would never forsake them to face death alone. So, why? Why do some of them reject everything I've given them? What more could I possibly do to prove myself worthy of their loyalty and love? It's not that they don't trust of me anymore. Some are turning away from the light and instead turn toward the darker side. They claim it brings them comfort and happiness, yet they fail to realize that once you go down that road, there is no return. Their minds become clouded by the fundamental sins; pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth.

There is a spark in each person which gives off warmth and light when exposed to sunlight or another source of heat. That spark within every being yearns to spread its wings, reach its potential, grow stronger. In humans that desire manifests itself in ambition: the drive to achieve something greater, to work harder, and to gain recognition through achievement. But what happens if that spark isn't nurtured properly? The answer: the fire inside becomes distorted and burns everything around it--friends, family, possessions, everything--to ashes. When this happens people often resort to anger as a coping mechanism for dealing with pain and sadness. People then start lashing out against others for whatever reasons--anger leads to hatred, hatred breeds jealousy, jealousy causes revenge, and so on and so forth. All these negative emotions create a chain reaction, one bad decision begets many more, until eventually humanity destroys itself because they have no idea how to stop themselves from killing each other. So I guess I shouldn't be too surprised when Michael's spirit rises back up to me asking me about his daughter who has gone missing after getting involved with the wrong crowd. I'm sure that, like him, she is doing her best to keep herself safe and get away from the dangers of the world. Even though I don't want to, I must take action and use my powers to save those souls that still haven't succumbed to darkness.

Michael has always been a hero in my eyes. He was the first to stand up and fight the dark; he put his life on the line for the human race. However, despite his bravery and willingness to help, even he can only do so much, especially as a human. With every step forward into the unknown comes risk; it is a necessary part of exploration. Sometimes you fail, sometimes you succeed, but you never really know what might happen before it happens. I suppose that makes it easier for humans to live their lives without having any real concept of the consequences of their actions--at least at first glance. It also means that humans are unable to grasp anything that lies beyond them--they cannot comprehend things that go faster than they can see or touch or taste or smell or hear or feel--or rather they simply choose not to. Yet Michael will continue searching for his daughter, Ephemera and keep trying to bring her home. As a parent, it breaks my heart to watch him struggle with such a problem, knowing there is nothing I could do to make the situation better for him. All I am able to do is give him advice, which is all he truly needs right now: reassurance that everything is going to be alright. But then again, isn't this just the way life works? The journey towards enlightenment isn't always easy: it involves overcoming many obstacles along the way--obstacles most people aren't equipped enough to face. Even so, we need to keep moving forward, as our ultimate destination may lie hidden around a bend in the road, one so far ahead that it's difficult to distinguish its location from behind us. So maybe, in a way, I should appreciate and admire these little steps toward growth. Maybe I should understand that while some of humanity's greatest heroes can accomplish great feats of strength and courage, it takes the whole of mankind to rise above the challenges and solve the problems of tomorrow.

Maybe, in my own small ways, I can help pave the path that leads everyone closer to peace, love, understanding, compassion...and eventually enlightenment.

 

[ZayZe]

Chapter 3: Ephemera's Search for Michael

Ephemera stood in front of the mirror and stared at herself; she did not like what she saw staring back at her. Her reflection showed her eyes red with tears--tears that had fallen earlier during her conversation with her father. She knew her father loved her dearly but he was never a demonstrative man. He often spoke about how he felt--but his actions rarely reflected his feelings. Perhaps that is why Ephemera chose to run away rather than face him after hearing his words last night.

It didn't matter now, though, for here she sat outside on a bench waiting for Michael to return from work so they could spend time together before she went to bed. Sadly, he never came home that night. That's when Ephemera began to worry: What if something happened to her father? Was it possible? If only someone would come out and tell her what's going on! Then the girl decided to take matters into her own hands: Why not go looking for him? After all, he might need some help. Who knows, maybe he needed some company too--or maybe she'll find him somewhere in the city of Damascus. She walked up to her mother and asked if she had seen him, but she shook her head no with some worry. This prompted the girl to grab the hood of her cloak and make her way to the gates of the city, determined to find her father. It took hours, however, to locate where he might have gone. As Ephemera continued walking down the streets of the busy city of Damascus she realized that her quest may be hopeless. Still, Ephemera pressed forward. There had been several times throughout her journey that she had turned around and headed back to her father's house because she had given up hope. However, as each new day dawned and then faded to dusk once more, Ephemera grew more confident that she was making progress in her search. The young woman never wanted to admit it aloud, but she felt comforted by being close to people who knew Michael well: like his friends and neighbors, most were able to offer some helpful advice on how to track him down. For the longest time, Ephemera thought he must have taken a wrong turn somewhere; perhaps he got lost trying to navigate through a crowded market place full of merchants and traders selling their wares from stalls along the roadside. But after a couple days spent asking about Michael's whereabouts, even those people seemed uncertain about whether they would recognize her father if they saw him again. Most didn't know anyone named Michael--and if they did, they hadn't seen him since he left home for work in the early morning hours. So many nights passed with no answers, while at the same time Ephemera became evermore anxious over losing sight of him for good. One night when she finally returned home to get some sleep she found out that one of her father's closest friends had come looking for her to give her some important news:

"Ephemera," said Assad , "your father has been killed in a battle."

The young woman could barely breathe, let alone speak. It felt as though someone were squeezing her heart between two fingers. Her face flushed red and tears began pouring down her cheeks as she tried desperately not to show any signs of weakness before others. She just stared blankly into space as if hoping it would help push back this terrible feeling within her chest that was threatening to take hold and squeeze the life right out of her body. As much as she wanted to stay strong, it was all she could do to keep the sobs inside. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ephemera managed to pull herself together enough to stand upright. Her legs were shaking and her eyes were watery as she walked up to Assad and took him in a deep embrace. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed tight until Ephemera could feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his tunic. The two stood in silence for a long time, neither knowing how to express their grief in words. After a few minutes, however, Ephemera pulled away from Assad, "There must be something else we can do to find my father's body." Assad seemed confused, but he agreed with Ephemera's suggestion, "We need to search the battlefield where he fell. Perhaps there is still hope..."

It didn't seem too difficult a task. Most of the fighting had already occurred, but the last bit of heavy skirmishing hadn't happened yet. It wouldn't be hard to follow the battle site if she remembered the way. That would leave her plenty of time to visit her mother in the meantime, who was understandably distraught over the loss of her husband. And while her own sadness would soon fade over time, for some reason Ephemera found herself wanting to comfort and reassure others about Michael and everything he meant to them; it felt important somehow--as though by doing so she might help ease the pain they were going through and prevent it from spreading beyond the people close to him. Maybe this was because she was only recently beginning to experience emotions herself, or maybe it has something more profound at work. But either way, the desire to console others was overwhelming, almost as much as her need to find him. The two drove her towards Damascus along the highway leading north out of town, passing many small villages and farms as she went on her quest. Eventually, Ephemera came across a field filled with wounded soldiers waiting to receive care from those brave enough to risk traveling into the dangerous war zone. She knelt down next to one man whose face looked familiar despite having a large bandage wrapped around his head.

"Excuse me," Ephemera began hesitantly, "but do you know anyone named Michael? A farmer named Michael?"

The young woman paused for just a moment, unsure how to continue when the soldier opened his eyes for the first time since waking up after being injured. His gaze bore into hers before slowly fading back to blackness. Then, in a matter of seconds, he slipped quietly away without another word spoken between the two. Ephemera couldn't tell if he had died in that moment, but she wasn't sure if she would ever get an answer if she kept asking such questions of strangers. Nevertheless, she decided to keep moving through the field until she reached the end where she would hopefully discover something that would help her reach her father's body--or even give her some clues as to what happened to him. Unfortunately, it seemed like the fighting was still very active at the far edge of the battlefield where her father's company fought against the enemy. But then she noticed something else: hundreds upon hundreds of dead bodies scattered throughout the area. It didn't take long to figure out why there were so many. There was no mistaking the fact that these men were all from Ephemera 's side of the battle line, and their blood had begun to soak into the soil around them, making it difficult for her to pick her way past them.

If this were any other place, she might have been too frightened to search among the piles of bodies. And as it was, she found herself wishing she could just slip away, pretend she never came here. But that wouldn't do, now would it? She tried walking faster, but the ground was slick with gore, slowing her down considerably as she searched for her father. Eventually there was a body separated from the rest. She knew right away which one it was by his hair color; it was Michael. Ephemera knelt down next to the man and took his hand in hers. She called out his name over and over again to try to wake him up, hoping beyond hope that he had survived after taking such a hard blow to the head...

She didn't want to believe it, not really--not until she had seen it with her own eyes. But when she saw her mother standing over her father's body with tears streaming down her cheeks and an expression of sheer hopelessness on her face, Ephemera finally accepted the truth: her father was gone. The same was true when she witnessed the burial of his body later that evening. That was the last time she would ever see him alive, or even hear him speak. Ephemera would continue to live long enough to witness this event several more times before the war finally came to an end. And that is the story of how Ephemera lost her beloved father and began her journey towards joining the divine.