In 1814, America was at war again.
It had taken some time for the enemy to assemble since the last war.
From atop a hill, near the sea, Monroe watched. An army of enemy soldiers disembarked and headed straight for Washington. Not full of remorse, but pride.
Quickly, the President scribbled a note to his clerk, the keeper of the original documents. The record of things done right.
A decision was made.
Remove the records, the note said.
And so they did.
Under stars. Carefully handled. Wrapped in cloth. Pushed out into the struggling world. Eventually to return.
There was a war in Heaven once.
But something much more valuable than land or merchants was at stake.
Some might say, a war that saved your life.
Lucifer assembled an army.
It had taken some time to convince an entire third.
And it would not be the last time he would lie to get his way.
Even after, he approaches Heaven. Not full of remorse, but pride.
With the results of roaming back and forth on earth.
And he would wave a record around. Your record of things done wrong. Accusing.
Until a baby.
Under stars. Carefully handled. Wrapped in cloth. Pushed out into the struggling world.
Some might say, a Redeemer that saved your life.
To remove the records.
That baby became the man
Nailed to a cross
Buried in a tomb.
Risen on the third day.
Now seated on the throne.
Eventually to return.
And your records?
Removed.
Scattered Seed Books 