In the beginning

In the beginning Earth was not. Earth was an abscence, an emptiness, a bottomless well of nothingness, a dark vacuum of all but what seemed deep inpenetrable waters that shifted slowly to the beat of blackness. But God was. And His Spirit hovered, darkly brooding over the tremulous waters.


He was lonely. What would Eternity serve Him if He were destined to spend it alone? What use could His power be to Him if He never used it? What was the point of BEING when He had no one to be for? What the purpose of loving when there was no one to love or be loved by? He shifted slowly and sadly over the waters, and reached out a finger to touch its inky surface. It would be so easy, He thought, to set this great ball of creation rolling. He had thought about it long and hard for aeons, and been on the point of bursting forth in all his creative majesty at many moments. He ached, a deep longing in His soul to put to use His power, and create, create, create. He had planned it all to the last detail. What He would make first, what second, what third and so on. But all of the beauty and ingenuity and majesty and might that He would set in place was nothing to what he planned to make last. He shuddered a little as he thought about it. Perhaps, He considered, He could just create the world and leave that final work unmade. He felt himself rise up at the thought, and His lips almost parted to speak the word...


But He stayed, hovering there, new thoughts and memories pouring into His brooding mind. He could not stop short of the pinnacle, the crown of His glorious creation; for Man, in His image, was not just another thing to add to the mix, but something infinately more important: Man meant an end to His loneliness. Someone to love, just as He would dearly cherish the rest of what He made, but better than that, someone who would choose to love Him, not because he ought, but because he wanted to. A creature who had free thought and will just as Himself.


He sighed deeply and the dark waters shuddered under his Mighty breath. Omniscience was not always desirable, He thought, as He pondered the future. He let his infathomable thoughts wander over things He knew would be, should He take the inevitable plunge. That was what it was, inevitable. He could ponder it for a thousand lightyears more, but, in the end, the inevitable would occur, and His creation force, like a mighty torrent, would gush forth. And so would all the rest. He closed His eyes at the thought of His own death, the death He knew sadly was as inevitable as the fire of creation within Him. These actions would cost Him everything. His Throne of Glory. His Life. He would have to see His beautiful world destroyed, He would have to stand by and hear every gorgeous plant and creature of His imagining groaning, sighing, screaming for help as He left His image bearers run amock. He would have to see them destroy each other, the world, and themselves, and then take the blame for it all. He would take the blame for them, quite literally, because He could not bear to leave them to their fate. He would have to accept abject humiliation and mockery from those He loved so deeply, they would spit on Him, mock Him, ignore Him, though He had given and would go on giving them everything He could give. He would have to be ripped from His very self, soul from soul, tossed into eternal despair, as His body would hang lifeless on a cross. Because He loved them. There was no question of turning back, once He spoke the word, He would embark on the most painful roallercoaster He had ever experienced in all His existence. It would end, eventually, but not to His full satisfaction. Because even His death would not save all of His dear hearts.


A diamond tear sparkled on His beautiful face and snapped, crystaline, as it fell through the abyss and into darkness. He was so lonely.


After a moment or two of deep silence He drew in breath once again, and there, in that bleak despair, He looked down and saw His own tear, falling, falling still into emptiness. It sparkled with delight, with ecstacy, with joy. He was transported in a second to the hearts of millions yet to be created, who lay their rags of worship before Him, and spoke to Him, and laughed with Him, and loved Him, just because He was.


And then suddenly a cry began to rise within Him, a cry of passion, of boundless love, of hope, of freedom, of delight, and He began to dance over the surface of nothingness, and chaos shuddered in His wake, as He felt the cry grow louder and louder inside His head until He thought He would explode with all the love that He felt. Even if one, just one, of His Humans turned, and smiled at Him, it would all be worth it.


As if a volcano was on the very brink of erruption, or lightning was forming in tumultous clouds, chaos quivered in anticipation for a moment, a drop of time like the flap of a bumblebee's wings. God's mouth opened, and a tiny whisper gushed forth that resounded around eternity like an atom bomb.


“Light!”


And there was light.