I am an Angel; one of many. I have been sitting here for hundreds of years. Rarely called upon, for some odd reason. So, I simply watch and watch…and watch. I’ve seen so many things. I have so many stories to tell. Would you like to hear? Would anyone listen? Perhaps. These stories aren’t stories. No. They are the lives of people I’ve seen, heard…and cried over. They all seem to look this way and ask: “Why didn’t You save me?”
One particular occasion:
The Throne Room was filled with angels. A chill in the air. Silent, as the man walked down the Great Hall, enormous columns seemed to envelop him. He knelt at the Throne, rather composed, yet his fists were clinched. I flew forward, resting on the edge of a balcony to listen closely as he spoke:
“What happened?” The man began to rock back and forth. “What did I do to deserve this? Did I not do everything You asked? Did I not obey to the last command?”
“Yes. You have done well,” the Voice from the Throne exclaimed.
“Then…why…? I want to return! My mother. My father! What will happen to them? You have to allow me to…”
“You have passed from one end to the other,” God said. “You will return during another Age to reign alongside the King of kings.”
“But I’ve lost everything!”
“In time, you will see…you have gained so much more.”
The man fell flat on his face.
I flew from the balcony to the floor, wondering if I could do something to help him. But it was too late. He clothes were stained with blood. I wondered: “What does it feel like to die? Worse still, how would I feel if I were killed by my own brother?” The Lord spoke once more:
“I tried to reason with him. I warned him not to let his anger, his emotions, drive his actions. He knew the truth and chose the latter. He chose to kill you, instead…”
My Lord’s voice trailed off. It’s the second time I’d seen tears fall from His eyes. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to fly away, only left with the sound of God’s voice crying:
“I’m sorry, Abel. I’m sorry.”