One Thousand Years
Christian Fiction Series
"The Author Fully Expects to Live"
"The Author Fully Expects to Live"
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Chapter One
Exodage
On Earth As It Is In Heaven
Watching the first sunrise in seventy years took Ebens breath
away. It started with the Son Rising, then the actual sun peaking
through the clouds as a long distant friend come calling. As though
the Sun were embarrassed to have been gone, looking to see if it
was still welcome.
The effect was magnificence contained in brilliance.
Only the Son of God was able to create so inspiring a site.
Feeling inspired Eben thought he had begun to cry till he realized
his attention had been so caught by the sunshine in the East, he
didn't notice a gentle rain had begun to fall. Rain? Wet? It felt great
but completely unexpected. No rain had fallen to speak of in
sixty-nine years.
away. It started with the Son Rising, then the actual sun peaking
through the clouds as a long distant friend come calling. As though
the Sun were embarrassed to have been gone, looking to see if it
was still welcome.
The effect was magnificence contained in brilliance.
Only the Son of God was able to create so inspiring a site.
Feeling inspired Eben thought he had begun to cry till he realized
his attention had been so caught by the sunshine in the East, he
didn't notice a gentle rain had begun to fall. Rain? Wet? It felt great
but completely unexpected. No rain had fallen to speak of in
sixty-nine years.
Book Two
The rain would not be surprising to anyone from the Old World. Those people
who had lived through the Great Devastation and Judgements; now most of them
called "survviors". They knew what rain was. They had known Acid Rain, Rain
bottled as drink, Rain as Hail, Rain as Frogs, Rain from hurricanes, rain like cats
and dogs, though now days the cats and dogs might resent that remark. The frogs
hadn't said anything yet but Eben supposed that was because they had heard the
story about kissing a frog and they were still hoping....
Yet rain, as it was falling now, had not come down excpet in mists that occured
nightly in these last seventy years in the Kingom Age, KA. This was different, it
was certainly not a mists, nor a downpour, but a gentle summer rain. The rain
lovers spoke of, songwriters wrote, picnics got doused with. Looking up into the
falling drops Eben had forgotten how much fun it was to look up seeing the funnel
of drops cascading down falling from the sky.
Bombs away, he thought, then realized the thought, feeling sheepish, foolish and
a little red faced.
Eben was a "leader" or teacher. He had been raptured from the Old World, been
to heaven, chosen by God to teach some of the Survivors and their children about
the Kingdom. He felt obligated to set a good example. While no one could fault him
of his thoughts, his thoughts weren't wrong, still Eben liked to focus on "WHAT
IS" and " WHAT SHALL BE" rather than "WHAT WAS".
"You aren't perfect."
The voice felt right behind him, even in his ear, yet Eben did not turn to see who it
was. He, Eben knew who it was, it was familiar. He responded,
"I know, not perfect just forgiven."
Eben threw out an old cliche he remembered but already knew God would no let
him get away with that one. It was too superficial. It wasn't a fact nor a Word
God had spoken to it was an an excuse rather than something that coulc give life
like the Living Word could.
" I define Perfection"
The gentleness felt like the rain washing his brain and mind free from thought.
"I am perfect"
who had lived through the Great Devastation and Judgements; now most of them
called "survviors". They knew what rain was. They had known Acid Rain, Rain
bottled as drink, Rain as Hail, Rain as Frogs, Rain from hurricanes, rain like cats
and dogs, though now days the cats and dogs might resent that remark. The frogs
hadn't said anything yet but Eben supposed that was because they had heard the
story about kissing a frog and they were still hoping....
Yet rain, as it was falling now, had not come down excpet in mists that occured
nightly in these last seventy years in the Kingom Age, KA. This was different, it
was certainly not a mists, nor a downpour, but a gentle summer rain. The rain
lovers spoke of, songwriters wrote, picnics got doused with. Looking up into the
falling drops Eben had forgotten how much fun it was to look up seeing the funnel
of drops cascading down falling from the sky.
Bombs away, he thought, then realized the thought, feeling sheepish, foolish and
a little red faced.
Eben was a "leader" or teacher. He had been raptured from the Old World, been
to heaven, chosen by God to teach some of the Survivors and their children about
the Kingdom. He felt obligated to set a good example. While no one could fault him
of his thoughts, his thoughts weren't wrong, still Eben liked to focus on "WHAT
IS" and " WHAT SHALL BE" rather than "WHAT WAS".
"You aren't perfect."
The voice felt right behind him, even in his ear, yet Eben did not turn to see who it
was. He, Eben knew who it was, it was familiar. He responded,
"I know, not perfect just forgiven."
Eben threw out an old cliche he remembered but already knew God would no let
him get away with that one. It was too superficial. It wasn't a fact nor a Word
God had spoken to it was an an excuse rather than something that coulc give life
like the Living Word could.
" I define Perfection"
The gentleness felt like the rain washing his brain and mind free from thought.
"I am perfect"