Prologue
Skyla
To every story there is a beginning, and to every story there is an end.
One theme remains the same—no matter which story, no matter who the author may be, everything is working toward its conclusion. Nothing remains the same.
The law of entropy is alive and well, right there in the nexus of your existence, in the heart of everyone you love. It never leaves, never disappoints in its vigor to erode.
From the moment you were brought into this world, you were well on your way to your demise—a trajectory to whatever fate awaits you on the other side of the veil. You are the orchestrator of your own eternity.
Did you believe Him?
Did you deny?
Did you cast yourself into Heaven or into Hell?
You have always held the keys to your eternal standing.
What happened in the interim, between your first breath and your last?
What did you live for?
Did you fight for what you believed in?
Did you believe what’s good and right?
Or did wickedness lure you in by way of promises of riches and fame?
Did it whisper deep into your ear that you, in fact, could be your own god?
That you already were?
Did you fall under the spell of a liar, a thief, a killer?
Did they consume you?
Did you become them?
The enemy knows his time is short. His leash is constricting, his oxygen diminished. He needs your strength. He needs your very breath to carry out his devilish schemes.
But those who love the Son never give in. They look to the sky and listen for the sound of the shofar. He is so very near. Their departure from this planet, less than a breath away.
There is a war in Heaven. A war for your soul. For mine.
Death and destruction lie uncovered to the One who sits on the throne. He sees His children weathering the storm, and He sings over them with a mighty roar.
He calls out to the dry bones of my people and commands them to rise up and come alive.
Together we are lifted by the breath of his nostrils. Together we rise. Our bodies restored to life, fully clothed in glory.
My people will rise again—stronger than ever, fully clothed in glory, in defiance of the enemy.
Life isn’t lived in reverse. The beginning of the day never holds the knowledge that waits for you when night falls.
I once believed that falling in love was a lot like death. I thought it chose you, that it decided the chain of events that would lead to an unavoidable collision of the heart.
I believed that it used you, treated you as though you were malleable in its warm hands. It would never ask if you wanted it, or needed it, just filled the gaping hole of destiny’s design.
