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It was time.



Time for the end.  I was sitting there, on the edge of the mountain of the lord.  Time for my trial.



I was accused of sinful acts.  I was accused of ordaining myself to a lifetime in hell.  I was ACCUSED of doing such things as blasphemy, lust, greed, and all the things that make myself a sinner.  I had to jump.



Approaching me was an army like none other.  It consisted of several thousand demons, beasts of the deep, hellfire angels, and Satan himself.  Here I stood on a mountain of the lord, with all the evil beings staring me in the face.  A few more minutes and I would be a goner.  I had to jump.



If I didn’t jump, then I would be torn to shreds.  If I jumped, my life would be forfeit.  Either way, it didn’t look good.



So here I was, just standing and waiting.  I didn’t know what to do.  I thought to pray.  Pray I did.  



I told the lord I knew that throughout my life, I had done acts of evil against his most holy name.  I had done many things I now regret, as I stand on this peak.  I told him that through the years, I always loved him and believed in him.  I think he heard me.



NO.  Not now.  Of all the things he could have sent me, he sent me a HUMAN.  He sent me a human being down to help me.  



The man looked at me with pity in his eyes.  He had one parachute.  “Here,” he said, “Take it.”  Then he jumped off.  NO.  NO.  He didn’t have to die.  WHY DID HE JUMP FOR ME?  WHY DID THIS MAN JUMP FOR ME?  I DON’T DESERVE IT.



I strapped on the parachute, a sturdy yet crude gift from God, and I descended from the mountain of evil that lurks to devour me.  When I reached the bottom, I saw the torn, lifeless body of the man who jumped.  NO.  Not him.  Anyone but him.  He didn’t deserve to die.  I should have jumped first, not him.  Why did Jesus have to jump for me?