NEWMAKER

Looking Down

“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”—Friedrich Nietzsche

Up above? That there’s heaven, where divine order, which lifts the willing spirit, contrasts with the chaos of eternity and limitless choice.

Down below? That there is the prison of finitude, where the human soul lays trapped, hungry, and eager to join the grace of the limitless. Trapped by hollow intentions, the soul will always ache, will always tremble at the extent of good and evil. There is no right way without the guide, the messenger, the truth, and the light.

Destined for greatness, a child of the Lord beckoned to infinity: “I ask for a challenge. I ask to be your vessel for truth. I yearn for an adventure. If only you allowed me to escape my faults, your words could reach the deaf, illuminate the blind, and touch the senseless. I want to be the one.” Forever waiting a response and longing for a mission, he trusted his heart. His soul was open and willing to gaze upon it all. And then he would blindly grasp the first sign of trust.

In new dreams, he was shown the unknown, the shadows of the known, the reflections of the light and the dark. Introduced to the limitless, he was told by the one he trusted of the Plague, the Purge, the Kill, and the Silence. He was told of an unrelenting sickness that sought to end the world. He was told of it all. Anytime he slept, he’d dream. He’d encounter the unencounterable. He’d meet a maker, and this maker would tell. It knew it all.

He listened patiently, and he begged insistently for what was to come. He felt trusted. He felt he had the knowledge ready to now speak! But when awake… when awake, the weight of his faults would return. His finitude was the same. His possible effort was unequal to the will required for the message. He trembled. He ached. He wept. The doubt rooted within his mind… “You’re not the one. No one will believe you. You’re dreaming, still.”

He knew the day the end would commence. He knew the moment the purge would begin. He knew the plans of evil and crumbled at its consequences. But he wouldn’t dream again. He had to ask and know more. But the era of limitless dreams had ended. “What can I do as I witness the end? God gave me it all, and I threw it away. Why me? Why now? Why this?”

“For we do not wrestle against the flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers. Against the rulers of the darkness of this age. Against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” — Ephesians 6:12