I awoke to see a city of glass. Towering toward heaven was this place of majesty. The sun’s light danced from each shape, sparkling as if from diamonds. My eyes struggled to contain the light, straining and ashamed in its brilliance. Some windows were stained as rubies, others like the bluest sapphire, others clear, barely there, and some shone green, emeralds of this city. The streets were spotless mirrors, reflecting the crystal giants that touched the skies. I could almost hear the light singing as it winked at me, jumping from one floating monument to another. The trees were filled with rainbows, glistening around their clear waists, their leaves twinkling in the soft breath of wind. There were castles of glass, the purest, hovering above the towers, held by faith alone, their spires commanding all who saw to stop in respect. I stood in awe.
She is not yet what she will be.
Behind me came a sound of thunder, but the sky was blue without a thought of a storm. I turned to see a great mountain in the distance, alone on the horizon. The thunder continued on this cloudless day, but the third clap shook the ground, and each one after grew in strength, so soon I could no longer stand. Then, in one final push, the mountain shook, heaving its entire peak into the air. For a moment the sun was dark, hidden behind the mountain’s top. The day became night, and the city vanished without light to give it life. For but a moment the darkness covered us. Then the strangest thing happened; the city went silent, as if to look toward heaven. The city’s silence was not to ask what, or to even ask why. The city’s silence was its greatest act of submission. It had been created for just such a time as this. It accepted its future; there could be no question of this divine destiny. I wept in the darkness. How could a thing of such beauty be taken? How could everything, planned so carefully and put in place with such love and tenderness, be destined for such violent destruction?
It was on my knees before this great city, eyes red with tears, that I heard her say, “Do not weep for me.” It was in the echo of her words that the sun returned, shining even brighter. Her castles rejoiced in the light, her towers swayed in the brilliance of heaven. It was there that I could almost see her face, looking towards the sky, arms open as if to embrace the coming destruction, “Do not weep for me, for what is coming is far greater!” I could say nothing. Is this really what she wanted?
I couldn’t bear to look away; I didn’t have the strength to shield my eyes from her. Yet in the greatest act of kindness, knowing I lacked the strength, the sun gave me a subtle gift to carry the weight of my heartache. The light off her towers reflected into my eyes, taking my sight. I saw only the light.
In my blindness, the air filled with the sounds of a thousand screams. The earth let out a groan. It was done; the only sound that remained was that of angels’ tears as the final pieces fell to dust. It was but a moment, and then all went silent. Even the breeze held its breath, in shock at what clearly lay before it. I closed my eyes, awaiting the restoration of my sight, yet in fear at what my eyes would one day see.
It was in the solitary darkness, eyes closed, on my knees, that I felt the warmth of the sun. In the stillness he shed his light on me. His touch was so tender, so kind, a father’s hand resting on his son’s shoulder as if to say “Open your eyes my child.”
Protruding high above the earth where the city had been was the mountain’s peak. While standing so close, it looked to be a mountain all in its own right. Its rugged edges and rough surface towered above the heights where the castles had hovered. The perfect city of glass was gone, in all of its glorious majesty, vanished under the hideous mound of dirt and stone that now stood in its place. The only remnants of the beautiful city were a few scattered shards of glass around its base. No purpose could justify this end. The city had not asked why, but I was not that strong. I called to the sun, to anyone who might listen, yet my voice returned only silence.
The days leapt forward, the sun rose and fell, the clouds came and with them rain. Under the rain, the mountain turned to mud and washed away, revealing the stone beneath. In the sun, the earth became dry, and turning to dust the wind lifted it and carried it away. Day after day the weather changed, rain bringing floods, sun bringing drought. When the rain fell, the heaviness beat down on my spirit and I pleaded for the sun’s warmth again. When the sun returned, its heat burned my face, and I called for a cool breeze to lessen my suffering. When the wind blew, the powdery dust was thrown like a thousand needles against my skin, and I begged for the rain to return to give moisture to ease my thirst. Each day the cycle spun. It was heaven’s gauntlet meant to break me.
Winter came. The snow danced around the peak, laughing bitterly. In its gown of white, the atrocity that had been before me was now hidden inside its chrysalis of feigned purity. There was a quiet dignity in its new found coverings. The jagged precipices were veiled by gentle curves. Shame was replaced with modesty. For the first time I looked at her with a quiet compassion. Her beauty couldn’t compare to the splendor of the city, but in the frozen winter, she had become a humble bride.
Winter didn’t last. Soon spring came, its warmth sending the gown of white scurrying frantically away. Flowers began to cover her where the snow once had. Yet even with this new dress, something was clearly different. Her edges were less jagged, worn by the heavy rains, the violent wind, and the bitter ice. She was softer now. The hard stones were breaking. Cracks were forming, splitting them from top to bottom. Her appearance was not as it once was. She was changing.
Summer came, bearing its unrelenting heat and its ruthless storms. The mountain received them. It was with the most patient submission that the mountain responded. Each day the mountain accepted the wrath of heaven, never uttering a word of distain. The city of glass had never suffered like this. The glass was far too fragile to resist such an endless torrent. Its demise had come in an instant. The mountain’s suffering never ceased. Never was there respite. The days beat her with new gusts to strip the earth. The days struck her with thunderous showers to move the stones and shape her sides. On the days when the battle seemingly lifted, the sun’s heat scorched her face, breaking her.
I had wept for the city in its passing. Bitterly I had cried to God, pleading for Him to lift my agony. Yet in all my fallen tears for her, not a single one came from selfless admiration. They were shed in selfish yearning for what my life would lack. To stand at the feet of such a great mountain, one cast out by the world; to see her suffer with no one to console her, it broke my hardest heart and sent shockwaves resounding to my core. I shed a single tear. I had come face to face with her righteous submission, and I was utterly ashamed.
So many days I had wasted, lashing out at the sun for its unforgiving heat. All too often I shouted for callused vindication against the wind for its merciless embrace. Too many wasted nights I ridiculed the storm for its cold and bitter showers. All the while, the mountain stood in silent obedience. Who was I, only tasting in her affliction, to protest against the heavens? For the first time since the mountain fell, reflected by her humility, I understood with what great arrogance I had failed. I stood speechless against her modest tranquility. The storms could not take her.
The years came and went. Blizzards taunted her, but her peace never wavered. The sun cracked her stones, but her quiet was never broken. Each passing year brought changes. It was subtle, each year a little more of her was taken, and each year she pressed on, as if some goal could be reached in her inevitable downfall. I no longer questioned the purpose. I couldn’t see what was coming, but her determination to quietly await the coming destiny was enough. She trusted what was unknown. She trusted those who came against her, as if their persistent assailment was her salvation. I could only see unavoidable destruction by her enemies. She welcomed them, those who attacked her, as gifts and received them with open arms. She was far stronger and greater than I, and instead of asking why, I longed to be like her and see the things she saw.
It had been years since she had come, and in those years she had changed. She was nothing like the mountain that first landed here. She was much older now, broken from years of weathering the storm. She was falling apart, stone by stone. Her sides were splitting from the constant expanding and contracting brought on by the freezing winters and blazing summers. She barely stood at all. Another violent storm, it seemed, would be enough to bring her to her knees. She could not last. My questions returned, longing for some purpose and desperately wondering what was coming next. Had the city of glass been destroyed so that the mountain could bear a similar fate? I did not understand. I knew something must be missing. I opened my mouth, but this time it wasn’t a question of why that escaped my lips, but a call for help. “I have faith, but it is faltering. Renew my spirit that I may be still.”
As if in response to my call, my longing for understanding, the earth below us spoke. On this cloudless day the earth shuddered. At first it was barely audible, but the sound grew into that of a thousand trumpets. The earth began to shake, the mountain swayed in violent convulsions. I fell to my knees. My gazed fixed on her, hoping against hope that she would not falter. Her swaying then turned to dancing. The more the earth shook the more the mountain swayed in freedom. With each tremor, the mountain shook off some of her stones, letting them fall like scales to the ground. I looked on, in astonishment at the awesome spectacle before me. As the stones fell and the mountain crumbled, I finally saw, with utter humility, the purpose that had kept her. The peak of the mountain collapsed, exposing a spire of emerald. The earth shook even more violently. The chrysalis that had held her for so many years fell away. The sides of the mountain collapsed around her base, leaving a foundation of diamond. In one final quake, the earth gave its last, freeing her from all restraints. I was silent.
Above me stretched towards the sky was the city. Her diamond towers, studded with rubies, topped with emerald spires, reached to the heavens; her castles lined in amber hovered, held by faith alone. The trees with marble waists carried sapphires from every branch. The roads were paved with the clearest diamonds, frosted in gold. The sun’s light once again danced among the towers. My heart grew faint, unable to contain my joy at the majesty before me. The rainbows laughed and sang as the sun traveled across the sky. The glistening city rejoiced, eyes towards heaven, receiving the light and giving back all of the beauty for the world to see. The light wrapped me, given from the sun through her, as if to ask why so many tears had been shed. Humbled and ashamed next to her beauty, I lowered my eyes.
Do not be ashamed, she has become what I made her to be; I made her for you.
The heavens rejoiced at her transformation. A fragile city of glass, which could not stand against the softest rains and weakest winds, had become a city of diamond. I had called them her enemies, but they were her closest friends. With unrelenting determination they worked, year after year, patiently freeing her from the prison that encased her. After she was free, they continued on with love. The rains bathed her, and the winds carried away the broken remains. She became a city whose splendor shown the utmost after the darkest storms.
When the storms had cleared, and the sun had set, I saw her beauty amongst the stars. The moon gave her gentle kisses while the breeze caressed her, whispering poetry in her streets. The calm night air chilled, cooled by the day of rain. The city sighed softly, the moisture from the rain still hung around her spires. I walked her roads, the glory of heaven reflected on her skin. The stars smiled as they looked down upon such a masterpiece. She was perfect; the paled memories of what she once was were cleaned and washed away. As I traveled towards her center, the air slowly warmed, the heat of the day still lingering at her heart. As I walked I became aware of my own frailty. Inside the city of diamond, my weariness overcame me. Years had passed since I had last slept, and my body had tasted in her affliction. Now, in the warmth of her embrace and the comfort of her presence, I felt relaxation come over my entire being. Her soothing voice assured me, “Sleep, for as long as this earth remains, I will be with you.” No longer made of fragile glass, she had become eternal and more beautiful than all of creation. I looked up towards the stars, I saw the towers leaning over, and on that night I closed my eyes. In the heart of the City of Diamond, she sang to me. She sang of a promise made before the foundations of the world, a promise specifically to me, and she was just the beginning. I fell asleep to her song that night. It carried me to the arms of the architect and in that moment, I saw the great sacrifice it took to create such a one as her. All that he is, he had given to me. As a father, he pulled me close, smiled, and spoke my name.
I awoke just before the dawn. In the blackness I heard the final echoes of my dream resounding through my room, “Do not weep, you are not yet what will be. For what is coming is far greater.”