In an Imaginary Heaven

In the writing exercise below, a little angel of hope who is no more significant than a distant twinkling star asks if she may help her fallen brethren return to grace. Sometimes we meet people whom we want to call angels in the flesh. Catholics will call them living saints. In an imaginary world that holds the stories written by a dear friend of mine, where magic is everywhere and so is the love of God, just such conversation as this might have taken place:

“May I remind them?”

They have chosen to do things their own way.

“Father, may I remind them?”

Patience.

“Father, may I go tell them?”

What do you wish to tell them?

“I wish to tell them that they can come home.”

They know this.

“They are not mindful of it. They need to remember.”

Someone has already gone.

“But Father, He did not go for them. He went for the ones who did not know Him.”

They heard Him, regardless. They recognized Him. They fought Him.

“That is because they do not remember how much they love Him. They do not remember how good it is to be home. They do not remember that they want to be here.”

Why do you say they want to be here if they have chosen to remain below?

“They are unhappy. They have been unhappy ever since they left.”

Whom do you wish to tell?

“I wish to tell everyone.”

There are many.

“I do not mind.”

Where do you wish to go?

“I wish to go to them, where they are.”

They have made Hell to appear vast. Should you go, it will be a long and arduous journey.

“But they could hear if someone comes and they could remember if someone tells them.”

Hell is where I am rejected; to go there you must leave me.

“Your Spirit never leaves me, Father. Whither-so-ever I may go, You are with me.”

Then whither-so-ever you may go, Hell will not be there. Even the smallest of my angels is too bright. They will recoil from you.

“If I am too bright, then make me dim enough for them to see. If I am too great, then make me small enough for them to hear.”

To be that small you must be housed in flesh. You would cease to be what you are.

“When I have you, Father, what need have I for my self?”

Will you pour out yourself for the others who still may reject you?

“If I tell them, they could remember where they want to be and you may bring them home.”

Why did you not first go to Gabriel? He is your superior.

“You are my Father as you are his. I am one of your little ones as he is one of your big ones. You love me as you love him. You speak to me as you speak to him.”

Because you have asked this of me, I will give you a house of flesh with a voice both soft and sweet and I will fill you with a humble glory so that you may reflect my light for even the blind to see. You will not lose your inmost nature, nor will my Spirit ever part from you.