Door of gods

By Pauly Hart

Mid-March 2024


“Please choose a door,” the pulsing blue light said.


“What?” I said out loud. “Any door?”


“Yes,” the blue light answered. It pulsed and quivered as it hovered behind the lectern…


>>You mean a pulpit<<




I looked around to see who had said that. Seeing no one near me with a mouth, I turned to the blue light again.


“Sorry,” I began, “what did you say?”


The blue light said nothing but shimmied a happy shimmy.


>>You mean shimmered<<


“What?” I asked the blue light again, who said nothing. “Who’s talking?”


>>No one is talking<<


“Then who’s that?” I retorted to the voice.


>>I simply am<<


“You are what?” I asked


>>I am that I am<<


It paused, then added:


>>Please choose a door<<


“That’s what the blue light told me,” I said. “Where’s Susan?” I asked either the blue light or the voice.


>>Susan is not here<<


The disembodied voice said, then:


>>Choose a door<<


I suddenly knew I was dead. As I focused, I began to unravel what had transpired to me only moments before and it came flooding back so fast that I almost fell backwards.


“We were in a car wreck!” I exclaimed. “Where’s Susan!?” I yelled, panicking.


“Susan is not here. Please choose a door.” The blue light said.


>>Choose a door<<


I refused the beckon from both the voice and the light. I wasn’t having any of this mess. I wasn’t choosing a door for nothing. I needed to find Susan, right now.


“Where is she?” I turned around. “Is she behind one of the doors?”


There was a massive wall full of doors in front of me, all floating around the same cloud the pulpit floated on. I looked down at my legs, which I couldn’t make out, for I was in a loose-fitting white robe and my feet were buried in the cloud, somehow standing on it.


>>Choose a door<<


The voice, somehow, was commanding and asking at the same time. I just needed to talk to Susan.


“Please tell me where she is. I’ll choose a door, I promise, I just need to know if she’s alright.”


>>She is not available to choose a door<<


“Which one did she choose?” I asked frantically. “I’ll choose the one she chose!”


“Please choose a door,” the blue light said again. “If a customer service representative is needed, please touch the bell in front of you.”


A bell appeared and I touched it. Suddenly, beside me was a person. Not a blue light. A person with a blue name badge with the name “James” on it.


“Salutations,” he said with a smile.


“Oh my goodness! A real person!” I said and hugged him, overwhelmed with relief. He was a small Mediterranean man with black hair who hugged me back in return.


“You have questions for me?” He asked after disengaging from the hug I had assaulted him with.


“Yes!” I screamed. “Where am I? Am I dead? What is this place? Who’s that voice in my head? What’s that blue light?” I blurted the questions out at once.


He laughed and put his hands up. “Well now! That’s a lot of questions. And I’m not allowed to answer all of them.” He patiently waited for the panic to drain from my face into almost disappointment. I was taking it all in, but very slowly.


“Not allowed to answer…” I began.


“Not all of them,” he said. “But I can tell you that you need to make a choice. And obviously, you are still alive, just in another form. Please… Choose a door.” He indicated the doors in front of him. The pulpit had disappeared when I had turned my head.


“Where’d the blue light go?” I asked.


“He is attending to other people. Receiving is a very busy department.”


“So is this heaven then?” I asked James bluntly.


“Not really,” he said. This is what people call ‘the white light’ or ‘the grand stair.'”


“Oh!” It registered. “Like ‘the light at the end of the tunnel.'”


James smiled and nodded patiently. “That one as well.”


“So… This is purgatory?” I asked.


James laughed a hearty laugh and doubled over a little bit. Regaining his composure he said “Oh, I haven’t heard that one in quite some time. Thank you for the reminder.”


“Oh. I thought it was real or something.” I said.


“Like, hidden on the dark side of the moon in the band of the heavens?” James asked. “Oh, Pope Urban and his wiles.”


“Oh. No, like… Abraham’s Bosom or something.” I scratched my head, purely out of habit, not because I actually had an itch.


James was impressed with my answer. “Oh. A scholar are you? Many people didn’t think that this may be something like Abraham’s Bosom. No. That’s been empty for quite some time now. All of the people there were ransomed by The Lamb That Was Slain.”


“Jesus?” I asked.


He smiled again. “Yeshuah Bar-Joseph, The Word who was, and is, and is to come. He is the manifest voice of YAH upon the wind, The First Spirit of the Seven Candle Stand, The Angel of YAHUAH-HA.”


“So… Jesus,” I said.


James smiled at my simplicity. “If you prefer.” Then, with a little wink, “He was my brother on earth, you know.”


I understood now. “Oh! You’re that James! James the Just! Good to meet you!” I extended my hand.


He smiled back and took my hand and shook it. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.”


He released my hand. “So if this isn’t Purgatory or Abraham’s Bosom, then what is it?”


“Well, Let’s start with what we know: Clearly, you are of Adam. And you are now in your spirit form only, having shed your mortal self.” He said putting his palm down. Then he put his other palm over it. Then, he again placed his first hand over his second hand. “And your spirit clearly has been reborn. And now this is the place it has gone until you wait for the resurrection. But you have to pick where that place will be.” As one hand followed the other, palm over palm, his example became more clear.


“So I’m saved from eternal damnation,” I said. “Is that what all the doors are about? Some lead to Hell?”


James laughed again. “Eternal damnation. Oh. Where do you get all these Catholic ideas? ‘Hel’ is a Norse myth. Helheim doesn’t exist on this plane nor any other. That’s a lie… As they say… From the pit of Hell.” He smiled ear to ear. “If their spirits are never reborn then their souls are held temporarily in a place without The Light, and then at The Great Judgment, from dust they came and to dust they return.”


“But Jesus told the story of the rich man and Lazarus and… And the rich man was in Hell!” I proclaimed, sure I was right.


“Remember,” James said patiently. “The rich man saw Lazarus every time he left for parade or circus. He knew him yet he refused to do anything. He spent his life in squalor living only for himself, and he reaped the rewards for his selfishness. Whatever you do, it is done unto you. Whatever you don’t do, it is not done unto you. But, again, that was Abraham’s Bosom, and it is closed now. The Lamb has redeemed them all from the pit. He sent His Word and healed their disease. The souls who reaped what they had sown on earth are now in holding, unconscious until That Great Day where Death, Hades, and The Grave will be thrown into The Bottomless Pit.”


I was stunned, I’d never heard anything like this before.


“But… The people at the end of days who take the mark go into eternal punishment.” I said.


“Yes. They do. There is a place that was prepared for The Serpent and his offspring. And those who follow him willingly go there. But not all. Those who do not choose a side are annihilated in grace.” James said.


“What?” I was a little taken aback. “What do you mean annihilated? That sounds horrible!”


“It is justice and mercy. For they are devoured into nothingness. Their bodies are already in the ground decaying. Their souls have no spirit to cling to, so they are taken back to nothing.” James explained.


“What about the sheep and the goats?” I asked.


“Those men who choose evil from the mark are the goats. They are the only ones who go to the Lake of Fire.” James said.


“So…” I placed my palm on my face, “there’s no Hell, just The Lake of Fire and The Bottomless Pit.”


“Yes. And all of Hades, Ghenna, Death, Grave, Sheol, all of it… They will wind up in either The New Earth or those places. Forever.” James said.


“The people I loved that never accepted God into their hearts…” I began, unable to finish.


“They will experience no pain. Only oblivion.” James said.


“That’s something,” I said, not really convinced.


“That’s a great deal of something,” James promised. “And, just so you know. You personally only knew one man who would go to the place of torment.”


I knew immediately who he meant. The boy who hated me most in school, who picked on me without provocation and remorse. The one I had found out beat his wife almost to death… “Ted Harriot.”


“The same. You tried, we all know you did. But Ted gave his lust towards the enemies machinations and continuously did evil. He was of his father, The Devil.” James smiled sadly. “But enough of sadness. Tell me… How did you fall in love with The Savior? For this tale, I do not know.”


I shrugged. “Sunday school, I guess. I just never wanted to go to Hell so I got saved and baptized during summer camp when I was 10.”


“Saved is right. And you were saved from any type of Hell you were taught, surely. But, shamefully, it seems you never continued in the faith. You are still a child in that regard. You never grew.”


If I were allowed to cry, I would have. A deep well of sorrow filled my heart and I hung my head. “I never continued on because when I got home, my dad had moved out. My parents divorced and they let me go to camp so they could deal with my dad leaving. That summer was the best and last real summer I ever had.”


“I know that part,” James said, as he put his hand on my shoulder. “Believe me, that is heartbreaking. But your salvation and growth weren’t up to your parents, or in spite of anything anyone did or didn’t do. It was up to you. Just like Susan’s was, just like Rebecca, Stacy, and Kyle’s were. All of them had their own choices to make.”


“Rebecca, Stacy, and Kyle?” I asked, suddenly remembering, and then my heart broke in two. “My children!”


“Rebecca and Stacy are fine,” James said. “But Kyle had the door chosen for him at this very moment. I’m afraid his door is not like the ones before you.” His face was grave as he said this and I knew what he meant.


I was very somber. “He followed other gods.” Again, my heart broke within me.


“And they will not save him,” James said.


“How…” A thought had come to my mind. “How many other gods do men follow?”


James seemed puzzled. “How many gods do men follow or how many things are gods?”


“What’s the difference?” I asked.


“Anything can be a god to a man. An idea, a special rock, the sky… A point in time…” James began.


“But they’re not gods. Those are just things.” I said.


“True. And the gods, sons of gods, and the bastards of gods are all a separate thing.”


“How are they gods while a rock isn’t a god but also is a god? I asked.


James smiled. “Man can choose to worship any item or spirit. So anything can be a god, or an idol of a god to a man. An idol is just a totem or fetish that represents a divine being. But the created divine beings themselves are gods, whether they are worshiped or not as “god” just means “Created by God.”


“I was created by God,” I said.


“Yes. You are a god, as am I a god. We are begotten of our Father God, made in His image as little gods. He is Elohim and we are bene elohim… Sons of God.” James said.


I thought I understood. “But there’s more divine sons of God. Bigger gods, but not G-O-D.” I said.


“Yes. They are the Council of Nations and they were given rule over all men but Y’Israel at Babel. They were there at creation. They were there with the Prophet Job. They were with the Father when He asked for volunteers to be a deceptive spirit so that Ahab might fall at Ramoth-Gilead. And that is why you must pick a door. Because behind them is the lesser god you will be serving under while you wait for the resurrection. You must choose a door.”


“Will I see Susan? Will I get to see my children?” I asked.


“Remember. Rebecca and Stacy are still in their mortality, and Kyle’s doors do not lead where you may go.” He was very serious. “Choose.”


“Will you help me choose? There are too many doors.” I said.


“There are 70 doors. Each of them hides a counselor, who will help. Notice some of the doors are barred shut. They are not available to you.”


“Why are they shut?” I asked.


“Their counselor is awaiting judgment and cannot take on new assignees.”


“Assignees?” I asked.


“Someone serving in the spiritual realm as their agents and angels,” James said.


“They’re the bad guys?” I asked.


“They are rebels. Tyre. Babylon. Persia… The various princes who have rebelled and taken their people with them. Those who chose those gods are now in chains with them. See that one there?” He stood pointing to the far left where the door was not only chained but encased in ice. “That is Egypt. Yah has a specific plan for that one.”


“What plan?” I asked.


“Very intricate as that Prince was also the ruler Moses fought against. The literal prince was the literal king.” James folded his arms. “Yes, Yah will judge them most severely.”


“Wait. Are you saying the Pharaoh was an angel?” I was gobsmacked.


“Yes and no,” James said. “All the lines of the Pharaohs were bastard spirits. Nephilim, you call them. They were born from the Prince of Egypt and ruled as the kings of Egypt. It was one of the only lines to do this. Egypt was a very devout nation to their iniquity.” But then he turned to me again and said, “So, obviously you cannot choose a door where the god is in rebellion, for they are in chains for the time to come and then there will be the judgment against them.”


“Alright,” I said. “What about that door over there?” I pointed to the far right door that was ablaze in blue light. None of the other doors had a glow like it.


“That is the door of Y’israel. YAHUAH-HA is the God of that door and it is for His chosen elect.”


“I thought I was Israel.” I was a little perplexed.


“You are grafted in. That is a rare door for those who were the ransomed redeemed of the bloodline. You are simply ransomed redeemed.”


“There’s a difference?” I asked again.


“Most thought not on earth. There were men who knew themselves to be of the ‘New Ekklesia’ and those who knew themselves to be the ransomed few, but most did not make this correlation.” James said.


“But I don’t want to choose another lower god. I want to only serve He Who Made Me.” I said, a little argumentative. “I thought I could only serve The One God.”


“You can and you do. You’ve proved that in your life, though, no one can serve perfectly. But you will not be worshiping the lesser elohim you serve under, they will only serve in a more managerial role, if you will.” James concluded.


“So I’m still saved,” I asked.


James laughed and grabbed my shoulder. “Oh yes! Your salvation came through the blood-bought redemption of The Word who was crucified. That was the real reason that He came! For Yahuah Elohim could not remarry Israel after He divorced her, so The Word died and was reborn so that He could remarry her.”


I pondered this. “And I’m a lost sheep? Is that it? So He’s grafted us all in who believe in His name to become… What… Second-class citizens? That doesn’t seem fair.”


“But you are redeemed!” James said joyfully. “The ax was laid to the tree so that you could be grafted! The judgment came to the elect first, my people. Be grateful you didn’t bear the brunt of the anger from my generation. For it was forty years after the Messiah ascended that the prophecy took root and for four moons, the entire city and temple were decimated.”


“You saw the destruction?” I asked.


“Alas, and I am grateful not to have. No, I was taken and thrown from the side of the temple, then they stoned me for treason to the Torah, then, at the end, a wool fuller struck my head with a mallet, and I stood here, as you do. I only learned of the destruction of the holy city after my arrival.”


“Wow. You were killed for your belief? I had no idea.” I said.


“And so, I was able to choose the door to the right, the one for the elect of Israel. But it did not come without cost.”


“I thought you guys got martyr’s crowns?” I asked.


“Ah, that is after the resurrection. For now, it is just my bland hair, as my spirit envisioned it. Truthfully, it is the same as it had been in my mortal life, though, none of it has fallen out. And, I never shave. It remains this way without thought.” James was smiling. “I had actually never considered it before.”


“I suppose it will be that way when you get your crown.” I smiled with him, grateful for his sacrifice.


“And you see now, with your true heart. That, though I will walk through a door you never will, and will wear inconsequential jewels that you do not… There is no jealousy nor striving nor covetousness. It is simply what it is and all accept it.” James said.


“It’s actually quite beautiful,” I said. “I don’t… How do you say… ‘feel’ anything at all like what I used to. There’s no… lust for anything unholy.”


“It is good to be free from those shackles,” he said. “Tell me, if you will, are you still hearing The Parakletos?”


“She was with me at the beginning, until you showed up. It was a glorious feeling.” I said. “Will she be back?”


“The Spirit goes where it wills, tarrying on whomever it wants, abiding according to the Spirit of The Lord,” James said. Then he asked again, “And have you chosen your door yet?”


Still in front of me, the doors loomed. Most blank white. The farthest right, glowing and unattainable, and the farthest left either chained or iced or both… Also, gratefully unattainable. The host of doors in the middle stood alike, all copies of each other.


“No,” I said, worried. “Should we pray about it?”


“Yes. Let us pray.” James suggested.


I nodded.


His voice became a song. “Shema Israel! YAHUAH Eloheinu, YAHUAH Echad! Love Him with all of your heart and soul and will! Father! Hear us now! Show your child which door is his!” And with that, his prayer was over.


Having my head bowed I did not see it at first, but bringing my eyes up I saw it. One near the middle began to vibrate and a light like a dove alighted on the top of it.


“There,” I said and pointed.


“I do not see it, but I believe you. That is your door. Go.”


And I did, and almost light of feet I walked swiftly as in a dream. Before I got there, the light from on top of it overwhelmed me, and the door opened on its own, taking me in.



UTU stared down at me with pride. She was goddess of all this land and I was the first man she had seen in quite some time gathered into her flock. She spread out her arms and cried out in a loud voice:


“Welcome son who was lost and is now found! Welcome to the kingdom of the sun!”


Looking around blinking I put my hand up to my eyes. It was like a land I had never seen. The brightest blue beyond imagination was the sky, and impossibly tall mountains lay in front of it, with the sharpest spires and steeples I had ever seen, beyond sight. There was nothing to describe the majesty of these mountains. And before that lay open hills, rolling with a green unknown to humanity.


And even before that came people, thousands of them, all to me, all with love in their eyes. Beautiful people with colorful clothes, impossibly clean and unimaginably bright beyond words. They walked up the hill towards me, as if they had been waiting for me.


My eyes and ears and even nose were filled with senses I had never known. This was not like the end of the tunnel with a vague white and doors set in clouds… Smells vibrant and aromatically odiferous, impacted and assaulted in the cheeriest of ways. It was like nothing I’d ever known. If I were to compare it to the world around me, there would have been the difference between a dull shadow of a mountain cave lit by one candle to the sunniest days on an ocean at high noon. There was no comparison that I had within me.


And the sounds! It was like I could hear all the sounds at one time, all around me, yet it was not a cacophony. More than that, it was a harmonious joy to the ears. Every sound seemed to resonate with each and every other sound to make it a symphony of strange and wondrous tunes. Light notes here from the leaves, tinkles of happiness there from the brook. Everywhere and everyone sang or hummed their fluent song of love.


“Is this heaven?” I asked.


“It is a heaven under my rule.” She said, “For just as He Who Made Us is the ruler of all, I am ruler of this small land under the firmament. Welcome son. What made you choose this place?”


“The Spirit led me,” I said, a little slowly. “For I had many questions and James the Just prayed for me and then this door glowed, and now I am here.”


I turned behind me to where the door had been but only found myself looking at a vast lake, impossibly blue and clear, both vicious and tranquil at once. There were a great many boats on the water and many fish played in it.


“Uh. There was a door just there…” I began, turning again to see if it had moved.


“Door. Arch. Passage. You all see what you need to see to get you to the correct place.” She smiled at me. She was the largest being I had ever seen and her smile was wholesome and healthy and her face shown with love.


“Please forgive me but I do not know you. And I might seem a little rude to ask, but, you serve The God of All, yes? Yahuah Elohim?” I asked, a little timidly.


“Why yes! He is The Divine Creator! He is the one above all. He is the all in all, the first and the last! Everything we are is from Him!”


“Oh!” I was a little surprised. “I thought… Or rather, I didn’t understand…” I stammered.


“Understand what?” She asked.


“Who you are.” I let out after some pause. “Who you rule. What… What you do.”


“UTU. Hepat. That was what they called me. The Sun goddess of Arinna. Or some called me Istanu… Deity of the heavens, pointing the way to The Creator. Later men would have me as the chief deity of their plagiarized pantheons, but like The Keeper of The Plains of the Caddoan Wichita, The Great Spirit was always pointed to by His ruler. In the case of the Proto Hittite and Hurian, the Armenian and Turkish as you would know them, I am their lesser elohim to rule and point the way to The Great Elohim, The All-Father.”


“And so…” I began. “You’ve always served Him? Even in war and disaster and famine? You never let the men worship you instead?” I was deeply curious and a little concerned that there was something wrong with the heaven I chose. “I thought that people who served other gods were condemned.” I said.


She lifted her head and laughed. “Why do all men think this of us? Of course the two great commands say that all who are men must not serve nor worship other gods. Have no other gods above the God of all and the second command is to not create idols to these other gods nor their creations nor anything likeness in heaven nor on the earth. I laugh at the Oh-So-Great Constantine and his tiny trinkets of ‘The Saints.’ Oh that was a classic time. So many men followed what they thought was the goodness and graciousness of The Maker! When instead they were doing the things that they were not supposed to do in the first place! Of course men worshiped me, though I warned them not to. Men are fools and deny The Chosen one and take offal in the place of choice meat.”


“But I am following my commanded path! Be a ruler under the All-Ruler, a vice regent for a select people. Why do they assume that we are evil monsters instead of the sons and daughters under The Son that we are?! And even though we serve in these offices, are not humans created a little lower than the angels?”


I waited for her to continue, for it seemed that she got this question a lot.


“Men are fickle as they are pliable. There are only a number of things I can do to collect their obedience if I choose to rule righteously. I can only guide and suggest, but when men worship me instead of The One God or take up swords in my name to battle other men, what can I do to stop them but send plague or disease or famine? I have not the speed of the archangels, I carry not the flaming swords of the cherubim, I rule and govern and cause good men to worship The Creator.” She looked at me and shook her head.


“The Hadam of mankind were easy to understand. Made from the mud he sleeps on. But after His rest, when He built The Garden and made The Man… Oh we all wondered what His plan was creating The Adam. That Elohim breathed life into The Adam is the greatest mystery of all to me. A special type of Man. For in the single breath from His mouth, He uttered not a Word, but it was simply His life-giving spirit he breathed into The Adam. If He had uttered The Word into The Adam, then The Adam would have been The Messiah, for it was only by His Word that He uttered Messiah, and only by the breath that was not The Word that He gave life to The Adam.”


This baffled me. “I thought all men came from Adam and Eve?” I begged her to continue.


“Oh!” She looked at me squarely in the face. “You mean you thought that everyone came from Adam?” She laughed and her retinue laughed along with her. “Then where did Cain get his wife?” She laughed some more. After a while, she composed herself. “Oh son of man, would that you knew all so I did not have to teach you. But come, I will show you the heaven I rule until the resurrection and then you will have knowledge enough to abide and labor.”


“Labor?” I asked.


She again laughed long and low and, again, the retinue with her laughed as well. “Oh son of man, do you think we sit on clouds and strum harps? No! For the laborers are few and the workers only increase in diligence as the day approaches,” she said as she floated down the path.


She was lost in thought, humming to herself as we walked. She said hello to people in gardens, playing with children, and building houses. There was plenty of work for everyone and everyone seemed happy. There were farms, orchards, and apiaries. As we passed by a small group of youth, the adult at the front waved at us, beckoning us over. It was a school. They were sitting in the grass and the teacher had been reading to them.


“Miss UTU!” The children cried, “read us a story!”


The teacher clapped her hands and thought this was a wonderful idea. UTU, looking subdued, sighed a lugubrious sigh, laughed, and said “Alright,” with a wink to me.


She floated up to the front of the group and began speaking. As she continued, those working around us on the small farm and even in the orchard nearby, came a little closer to listen.


“Once there was a prophet named Deborah,” she began. “And she prophesied that a great battle would be won against an evil army. So she commanded her chief fighter to go forward and attack the enemy. Now he was a very brave man, so he said: ‘Yes, I will go.'” UTU snapped a smart salute to which all the children laughed.


“Now the prophet thought that the chief fighter would go immediately but the chief hesitated and said: ‘I’ll only go if you go with me.” At this, she put her hands to her cheeks, and not only the children but those gathered around laughed. “So, of course Deborah scolds him for not thinking women can hear from The Maker. So she says to him: ‘Oh you will go, but your glory will be given to a woman.’ And he thinks that it’s Deborah, but guess what… The battle is successful and he’s chasing the leader but they lose him. So he doesn’t believe that the glory was given to Deborah at all. He thought she lied to him”


The children oohed and awwed in disbelief. They didn’t have any experience with lying here and it was a very, very shameful thing to even think about.


She straightened up for the end of the story. “Well, children, let me tell you what happened. The leader, whose name is Sisera, is hiding in the tent of a Kenite. He had met the woman living in the tent. She was not his friend but she was nice to him all the same, because we should always be kind.”


At this, the children nodded their heads, with looks of knowing. Obviously, everyone in heaven was kind as well as truthful.


So then what does Sisera do but go right to sleep there on the floor. Well Jael covers him with a blanket, because she’s still trying to be kind, but you’ll never guess what happened next.” She paused for dramatic effect and then in a very quiet voice said: “The wife, though she was kind, also knew he was the leader of the bad army. If she didn’t do something he would hurt a lot of good people! So… She decides to end the badness for good. She went over to the side of the tent, pulled up a tent peg and shoved it in his head right here!”


As she pointed to her temple, the children’s eyes were as big as saucers. Most of the adults had heard the story before and smiled, remembering the first time they heard it.


“She drove it into the ground, killing him instantly!”


At this, one of the little girls screamed in surprise. Others around her hugged her and comforted her. She was not frightened, just absolutely shocked.


UTU smiled at everyone. “Isn’t The Maker good?” She said, and clapped her hands.


And the people cheered and clapped and whistled. She then concluded: “And so, now we know that when a prophet comes to you and tells you something, you’d better believe them because it doesn’t matter who you are, The Maker can take you and cause you to win a battle that even the best fighter in the land could not win. Doubt will make stumbling blocks rise on pathways where once the way was clear. However, faith will clear away even a mountain.”


She then took her leave from them and everyone touched her as she passed, thanking her. The children squealed in delight as she put her hand in a bag and threw candy into the air. Running and chasing the candies as they bounced and scurried away, acting like scared mice. With a wink to the teacher, she left, beckoning me to follow her.


I was in disbelief at her casually telling such a gruesome story to children, and I asked her about this.


“Why does scripture scare people?” She casually asked. “Is not the truth, the truth?” And we continued walking along the pathway. Eventually, we came to a creek and a small bridge.


“Beyond this bridge is where I place the new people who come to me. They must work outside of my garden until such a time as I see fit. From her bag again, she drew out a gold-encrusted ram’s horn and gave a long blast. The countryside across the river looked similar to the one we stood in, but it was not as bright. From a hillock came a man, similar in age to me, with a long white beard. With him was a woman.


“Heber. Jael. This is our newest member,” she said, introducing me.


“Wait. Jael? Jael’s nail?” I stood aghast. “But she just told your story to a group of children!”


Heber laughed. “She loves telling that story. We don’t mind it. My wife is a hero,” he said as he put his arm around Jael.


“I only did what an obedient servant of Yah might do.” She said, kissing her husband lightly on the cheek.


I thought of Susan and how I missed her. Knowing that since she was not able to choose a door, then Kyle and she would not be getting into any of these heavens.


UTU smiled a knowing smile. “Take care of him as you do all the others. I must go now, for I still have a nation on earth to run.” She said and turned. She smiled at me and winked again. “You’ll be fine.”


Then, as Heber and Jael took me arm in arm, we walked into the mountains to mine gold and rubies. It was not so glorious but the town where we lived was full of life and hope and joy.


I met many people who were my relations, and my great-grandmother Helga was there as well. She was a young woman of around 30 years of age with very curly hair that she kept in long braids down to her ankles. She was hilarious and fun and we both worked the mountainside together, sapping for new mine shafts. It was happy work and there were no injuries, though once, Helga slid down the side of the mountain. At the bottom, I found her covered in boulders, laughing. We had fun pulling her out, she sang many a funny song and it was now her favorite tale to tell others around campfires.


And, though it only felt like days, soon, Rebecca and Stacy, and many of their children came to live with us. They were all brought to the camp of Heber and Jael, as was I. There were not many of us, and soon Rebecca was chosen to go to UTU’s garden to help teach the children. Stacy and I were never chosen but many of Stacy’s children and Rebecca’s children were.


We were quite surprised when Rebecca called us to the river and had with her a soul we did not know. It was Kyle’s granddaughter. She was but a baby, not being fully brought into her full life back on earth. We cared for her as we did all the children on our side of the river, and all was happy. She did not have a name so we named her ‘Kylee’ after Kyle.


Days went by, but was perhaps hundreds of years, and one perfect day we were all asked to come to the main part of UTU’s garden, and so we put on our happiest faces and went. We met many of our families there and hugged and rejoiced with them to see them again. We sat down near each other, in our area of the expanse of people.


Out of the vast crowd of people, we were near the back but had no problem seeing or hearing her. The natural amphitheater where we sat was very beautiful and it overlooked a large lake. It was sunset and the sky was glorious.


There was a lot of pomp and ritual, mostly that I had read about only but had never seen. There were Levites here and an Aaronic priest was with us too. We all were witness to a great spectacle where we were told the Jubilee of Jubilees was upon us and that very soon the great resurrection would take place. We marveled at this and hugged one another. Several people cried with joy and all of us could not wait to find out just how soon it was.


And that is where I end this tale. For in writing it, I am hearing the very low rumblings of The Seven Thunders in and around our heaven. Very soon we will join the other nations and go with them to the Great White Throne. So I must end the story for I do not know how much time is allotted.


A realization has hit me, as I am near the end of my tale. Will anyone ever read this? Since there will be a new heaven for the old heavens will pass away, shall even a soul be in the heaven of the sun goddess to read my tale? I find it almost unbearable that the words that I have written might come to an end…


And yet maybe someday, somehow, someone will read them.

About Pauly

Pauly Hart is a public speaker, actor, painter, singer, poet, and story-teller. His main focus today is writing. His latest works have involved novellas in the vein of “Classical Horror” from the Christ-centered world-view. The Horror story is the story where the character has to survive until the end. What better chance for survival than in Christ? Pauly writes not for the churchy types, but for those who would pick up a Stephen King book, giving them an alternative to the spirits. Pauly writes so that the Holy Spirit will have room made for him in modern day literature. He runs several websites all bent on leaving the mind of the atheist awash with the glory of heaven. You can find him at

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