Anxiously stirring a mimosa, the Lord looks out from his third story balcony, one that overlooks much of his city. He paces back and forth in deep, troubled thought, processing the change Montgomery undergoes. With ‘Heaven’ emergent, and Fallen arriving in droves, he feels control swiftly slip from his hands, wrestling free like a dog slipping its leash.
No more. He has not spent decades building to watch his work be undone in a week. He sets down his glass and retrieves his laptop. In these modern times, his sphere of influence extends far beyond his physical reach. Over the course of mere minutes, he summons all whom need summoning. He consolidates, he organizes, and he charts a course.
In doing so, he relaxes. He retrieves his glass and drinks greedily with a contented sigh. Control returns to him, loyal and affectionate as it often is. The sun rises over his city, and he intends to seize this radiant day. The Lord’s work has begun.1