A Story of Two Worlds

There were two worlds.

The first was old. Older than anyone could measure. How it started in the first place was a mystery. At some point, the elemental forces and natural laws collided in the chaos, and there was birthed a world of stone and water and fire and atmosphere. Chemicals and compounds swirled together and split apart in the deep places.

Years passed, unnumbered and unwatched, until all the right pieces were in place, and chance struck like a miracle from an unseen god… and there was life.

On this world, life finds a way. Life swam the seas, absorbing nutrients and building into itself added complexity as it pulsed and grew and split and multiplied and procreated and adapted and became something new. Variety compounded. Random mutation led to a plethora of traits and abilities, all in the service of survival and progeny.

Creatures developed and flourished that had the rationality and self-awareness to study their own origins. They used this knowledge to better themselves, sometimes at the expense of the world around them, other times for its good. One thing they knew for sure: Nothing was out of their reach, just so long as they believed in themselves, worked together, and never gave up.

But on this world, nothing lasts forever. Death and decay, enemies always held at bay by the frenzied drive to survive, eventually catch up. From the simplest of organisms to the most advanced, all eventually cease the activity of life. In time, that world itself would succumb to entropy, and all that would be left is the endless dark of a cold, dead world. None would be left to tell its story.

The second world was something very different indeed. Before this world began, there was a presence, a being of infinite power and wisdom. He willed to create a kingdom for himself, and built a world where his people would live and thrive and grow. He crafted the crust of the world and all its contours, filled it with living things that grew in the soil, swam the seas, flew the skies, and crawled the ground. Finally, he made people – beings of intellect and emotion and creativity. This would be his Kingdom, these would be his people, he would be their King, and they would live forever with him.

But darkness came. It leeched its poison into the King’s creation, into the very hearts and souls of his people. It captivated their imaginations and wills, and turned their thoughts inward and downward and compelled them to spread their darkness over all the world. The Kingdom was lost. Death had wormed its way in. Decay had seeped into the ground. Left alone, this world would end just as the first, a lifeless husk spinning in the cold emptiness of space.

The King saw all this and knew there was but one way to fix it: He would enter in himself, take hold of all the darkness and death, and by the power of his own life destroy it forever. He would reclaim and redeem his people. He would reestablish his Kingdom. He would remake his world. He would restore the life that had been lost. He would banish forever the darkness, and he would ensure that his world and his people would live forever; a Kingdom without end.

The stories of these two worlds could not be any different, yet the truth is that they are two different stories about the same world – our world. Both stories are fascinating, curious, and beautiful in their own ways. Both hold an appeal. But both cannot be true.

There is only one true story of this world. I cannot prove to you which story is the true one, and I cannot tell you which to believe. I can only tell you the stories I know.

The stories I know are the stories of the Kingdom. Those are the stories I believe are worth telling. They are the ones I believe are true.

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