Home and Heaven

Imagine angels playing an invigorating game of soccer on a heavenly cloud–their wings damp from exertion and halos knocked askew from all the movement. The Cherubim sit on the golden bleachers cheering while the Strongholds coach their players on the field. The Seraphim referee the game while God keeps score.

The Guardian Angels and Archangels are tied. Intensity fills the crowd as Michael dribbles the ball down the field with only a minute left to play. Before he makes it to an ideal position to score, Harmony swoops in for the blessed steal. The angels go wild spilling raspberries and peanuts on the cloudy floor. The ball is kicked to the angel Afriel. It’s a give-and-go and Harmony launches it into the goal right past Gadreel. The last goal has been made and all the angels cheer. In a fit of excitement the winged warriors doggy pile on Harmony and accidentally break off a piece of their celestial cloud.

Unaware of their actions, the tiny piece of heaven bursts through Earth’s atmosphere, spiraling down until it gently lands upon a section of the planet where the edge of the ocean meets the horizon. It is in this area of the sea where the cloud sinks to the bottom and like a mustard seed, sprouts from the ocean floor.

An island is created.

There is calmness spread from the movement of nature. Clouds collide into one another, crafting shapes that no one sees the same way. The sound of the wind dances through the people and shifts the beads of sand creating a ballad of tranquility. But even when the land lays still and the people go to sleep, there is music in the silence. The warmth of the sun seeps into their skins and light is injected into every pore. In their veins, sunrises begin to form.

In that space, the ocean gleams in cerulean waves, the ceaseless sunshine reflects from vibrant leaves onto the eyes of a beloved, and the trees within the vicinity sway to the rhythmic melody of the breeze. In the early morning light, multifarious hues of purples and pinks bless the moving waters with a pale shadow; but in the coming twilight, the skies melt to an extravagant canvas that only the hands of a god could create.

People will often ask, “What do you call this place.”

The only reply is, “Home.”