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The Vision

Biblical short fiction
(489 words)

Author's Note: Based on Daniel Chapter 7

Oh, God, Almighty God…Most High God...Lord of kings, Revealer of mysteries…I am appalled.

My hands are shaking, my knees are weak, my entire body is trembling. Oh God...the things You have shown to me...Oh, God...Almighty God…

I can no longer stand. My knees strike the ground with pain made dull by the shock numbing my mind, paralyzing my body. I grope for the bed with flailing arms, gripping the fine linen, pulling it toward my chest as if to keep my heart from pounding out of my ribcage. The imprint of my head is still in the pillow. The darkness outside is shrouded by a blanket of calm silence, that seems to mock my agitation.

I am falling into darkness. No, I cannot. I must write...I need to write...my heart will burst if I do not write...

Paper, ink. The scratching sound fills the room, as loud as the tumbling blocks of stone the builders move in constructing the awesome towers of Babylon. As I write, the frantic beat of my heart eases, as if released with the ink drying on the scroll. But my hands still shake, the numbness still renders me helpless.

The vision terrified me…terrifies me still. Not a dream, but more real than any events under the sun. My life as it runs--the day to day monotony of my servitude to the king, the inevitable and numerous intrigues of the royal court that occupy my time and energy--they are all unreal in the face of what the Most High God has shown me.

Beasts...strange, horrible...destruction...then a figure in a throne of such power and awesome might--a vision not meant for a man’s eyes to see, events that man is not meant to understand, a future that man is not meant to know--but that You have shown to me. Oh God, I am trembling anew.

I am finished. The four beasts, the Ancient of Days in His magnificent, awesome, terrible throne...the little horn, the time, times and half a time…they are all recorded. All things that are yet to be. It is even more terrifying in black and white upon the scroll. I thrust the paper away from me, withdrawing into a ball of tightly knotted muscles, quivering flesh, anguished mind.

Oh God...Almighty God...I am filled with awe, with terror, with weakness. That You should choose me, that You should reveal such things to me...I know how Moses might have felt when he beheld Your face. Did he also feel the frailty in his body, the brittleness of his mind, in the face of power so far beyond him?

I am Your servant, Oh Most High--I obey, I cannot help but obey. I am drained from being touched with a sliver of Your power. Have mercy on Your servant, grant me peace and rest. Tomorrow is another day in the king’s court. But all these things, I will keep to myself.