Part 25 (2/2)

We nearly forgot the throne to G.o.d's right As we labored with antic.i.p.ation.

But soon came the day for a great convocation, The birth of the earth was at hand.

a.s.sembled we there, we opened with song In the hall of the Almighty King.

High and lifted up was He, Entering with power, moving with grace.

Foundations shook, incense rose, As Seraphs, their voices raised.

All glory to the Father G.o.d, Forever is his reign.

The King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, And worthy of all praise.

Conspicuous in vacancy, the throne beside Him stood.

Antic.i.p.ation filled the room, As we awaited word Of announcement as to who would sit Upon that holy chair.

Lucifer, the Morning Star, stood serenely by.

A perfect pairing it would be, to see him sitting there.

How could we that day foresee That it was not to be?

Jehovah Father, G.o.d alone, Is all that we had ever known.

The floor became fiery stones, A rainbow encircled the room.

Bursts of light shot from the throne, As thunder rumbled our heavenly home.

The Father stood, tall and proud, as He said, ”Behold, my Son.”

A Being so pure it pained us to look Appeared at the Father's right hand.

Surprised by joy, Laughter welled up.

Praises spilled from our lips.

Worthy is the Son of G.o.d, Our love endures forever.

You fill our hearts with wondrous joy, Our love endures forever.

With every breath we shout your name, Our love endures forever.

We dance and weep in joyous song, Our love endures forever.

It was a new day.

Everything changed with the coming of the Son.

Take all the pride, all the admiration, all the love we held for Lucifer, And it would be but a fleeting glimpse of the love we held for the Son.

G.o.d the Father presented His heir And gave Him a name above all.

That at the name of Jesus Every knee shall bow In heaven, and soon, on earth.

Every tongue shall confess Exalted Lord is He, No other Lord above Him stands, His reign endures forever.

We shouted to our G.o.d and King Until we could shout no more.

Every tongue confessed Him Lord, Every knee before Him bowed.

Every knee except Lucifer's.

In one swift moment, s.n.a.t.c.hed from him was everything Lucifer dreamed.

That's how he saw it, That's how he felt.

Jesus, not he, would sit on the throne.

Jesus, not he, was Lord of creation.

Jesus, not he, would be wors.h.i.+pped and praised.

The Father spoke, ”Lucifer? Why are you downcast?

Would you be G.o.d?”

No answer he offered, The throne room he fled.

Conceived at that moment, Sp.a.w.ned by disappointment, An Antichrist was born.

CHAPTER 19.

As I drove to Heritage College the next morning I was reminded of a conversation I'd had with a writer friend who was trying to break into Hollywood.

As in any industry, he told me, Hollywood has its own language. Apparently, producers are unable to grasp a concept unless it's couched in reference to a film that's already been produced. He said a pitch usually goes something like this: ”It's a World War II story about a soldier and a German shepherd who is combat trained. Think Band of Brothers meets La.s.sie.”

The key was that something always met something else.

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