{"id":64,"date":"2013-01-24T08:43:21","date_gmt":"2013-01-24T08:43:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/academyofheaven.com\/?page_id=64"},"modified":"2024-06-28T21:46:39","modified_gmt":"2024-06-28T21:46:39","slug":"the-apple","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/academyofheaven.com\/?page_id=64","title":{"rendered":"The Apple"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\n<\/a>Sleek and pulsing with Light, it sat on the table before him.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Beckoning.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Nervous and excited the angel stared at the Apple.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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What should he do?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The Apple was a portal to other times and places in which access to the Stream could be garnered. With it, he could validate Names and Lives and Faces, or simply use it to learn more about the Realm he had incarnated into.\u00a0Feeling creative, he decided to Write.\u00a0He pulled the Apple closer and meditated for a moment.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Flashes of information, words, music, memories of Heavens and hells tumbled from the Void. The place where nothing is Formed but everything exists.\u00a0The collage of sound and light inside the angels mind had no rhyme or reason to it then, it was just a great wash of feeling, experience, and Knowing that was accessable to any Being at any time.<\/div>\n
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The Apple focused that wide band of sensation into inspiration, and finally, into a point of direction.\u00a0Many believed the Apple was for entertainment only, and he certainly enjoyed using it in that manner himself; but more often the Apple was a tool he needed to enter the Stream flowing from the base of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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What should he Write about?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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What was in the Current?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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True to his nature he settled on a topic he was an authority on and began to access the glyphs that were Glowing beneath his fingers.\u00a0The angel would Write about himself.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
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 <\/p>\n

“This should be fun.” the thing muttered as it hunkered lower in the bushes near the angels abode.\u00a0Watching from afar, the demon believed itself invisible. Such creatures assumed that Light was physical only, but the angel could easily see beyond the Shadow.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The form of the jealous beast was plainly visible when the angel looked out the window and toward the edge of the Wilderness. It was drawn by the Creative spark that flared when Metatron began Writing, and was sent by the darkness to interfere with the Flow.\u00a0Having dealt with this type before, he ignored its simple tricks and the illusions it conjured.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Many would give up and cease writing with such distraction, but Metatron took every part of the demon’s display and used his sword to cut until the core of the illusion became real.<\/p>\n

The demon screamed when it saw the Sword of Truth. \u00a0He had mistaken this Being for a Man only and now it feared for it’s own existence.\u00a0It had crafted and carried the seed of fear and doubt very far with the intent to plant it near a Creative Being in the hope it would choke and kill any form of expression or the Word. The simplest of tricks, but the most powerful known to his kind. \u00a0These seeds were normally planted and tended in the fertile fields of a human mind, but the demon had made a fatal mistake…he had carried his dark seed right into the Garden of an angel.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
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Metatron liked all types of knowledge, and he wanted more information on this particular shade. \u00a0He could slay the demon outright with a Word, but chose instead to fight it with his sword. \u00a0Something inside the angel questioned how it had gotten so near his abode. Normally his Friends would warn him of any approaching darkness.\u00a0He didn’t believe there was a breakdown in any of the defenses angels used to warn and keep each other from the shades. \u00a0Those tools were crafted by the Source and couldn’t be broken or altered. \u00a0Tools like Encouragement, Patience, Love, Acceptance, and Faith were wielded amongst his Friends and Family to keep the darkness away.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Suspecting it was of a stronger tribe thus making it’s mission more important, he chose to fight the demon by hand rather than with the Word so he would know it’s nature.\u00a0Why would this demon care enough to interfere with his Writing?\u00a0It was in his Home cowering in the corner the furthest from the Hearth and Fire.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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He placed his sword on the the table next to the Apple and sat down.\u00a0Pretending the threat was gone, he allowed the demon to gain courage again and paid attention.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Nothing.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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He heard only the amplified sound of his Friend Melody sleeping and dreaming near the front Door, her ragged breath inconsistant and shallow. \u00a0She was near the other Side and they had traveled many Paths together. \u00a0Her wheezing now reminded him of the short time they had together on this Side.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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A tear formed in his Eye as a vision arose from his Heart; a vision of Melody laying next to a Campfire while Friends and Family sang, drank, swam, tended, and ministered throughout the evening. \u00a0He Remembered that day and night cycle and called it The Best Day Ever.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
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Ilumination flashed inside the angel as he lowered the wings he wasn’t aware of raising. It was the nature of angel wings to raise and lower as they traveled more near or further from the Moment. \u00a0When he was completely in the Moment, or next to the Throne and near God, his wings automatically fell. \u00a0In the Presence, angels only came and left according to the Will. \u00a0There was no flying to the past or future using wings.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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A great Light blazed in Metatron and he stood in the Love of God. \u00a0The same Sun that was shining at the River on the Best Day Ever for the band of angels and Friends, shone on him now as the Source gave revelation into the nature of his distraction.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
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“Enough.” Metatron announced with the Voice.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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In one fluid motion he closed the gap between him and the demon, leaving his sword on the table.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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“Your Name.” he said. It wasn’t a question, but rather a command.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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“Pain.”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Then the rarest of actions occurred for the angel. He lowered his head and placed his Hands on the dog’s body, not to Heal, but to Comfort.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
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“Peace. Be still.” Metatron whispered to his Friend lying in the corner.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
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As one more tear fell from the angel’s Eye and landed on her Golden Form the demon left.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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It was just him, his Friend Melody, and the Apple again.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Sleek and pulsing with Light, it sat on the table before him. Beckoning. Nervous and excited the angel stared at the Apple. What should he do? The Apple was a …<\/p>\n

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