As the most beautiful angel in the heavens, I have it made. I am beautiful, powerful, and I even managed to rebel against the Almighty Himself, taking a third of His forces with me. It was a simple matter to further mess up God’s plan by causing the two humans made in His image to doubt God’s words to them and do what He told them not to do.
Then there was the time I caused all those people to be so wicked that God had to destroy the entire earth except for eight people. When you have legions of demons and only eight supposedly righteous people, it is much easier to get them to disobey His Majesty, the God of the universe because there are thousands of you and only eight of them. After the flood and after another rebellion, He confused their language, but that was no big deal. I just corrupted the stories they told about God’s so-called deliverance of them.
When the Israelites finally got what they wanted and were allowed to have Kings, it was so easy to corrupt the rulers. Humans are such despicable creatures. A beautiful woman is all it takes to turn a king into mush and make him want another wife. “Forget the law against marrying a foreign woman! I want her and she would help with a peace treaty with the country she comes from.” Ha! So much for that plan, You pathetic excuse for a God!
When God said that there would be some sort of a Savior or Messiah coming from the line of David, that began my plan to so corrupt the line of David, that God’s plan would fail yet again. Foreign women, rebellious people, exiles, all of this was in my plan to so corrupt Abraham and David’s lineage that God would be forced to change His plan.
Herod the Great was my biggest accomplishment yet. When the so-called Son of God was born to Mary, a so-called virgin, I used Good old King Herod to kill all the baby boys born in Bethlehem. Oh, the bloodshed! Oh, the wonderful, mournful cries of all those mothers! Music to my ears. Jesus escaped, of course, but that was okay. I would use that as well.
When I tried to get Jesus to fail His Father, He kept coming after me with His Scriptures. I tried to appeal to His flesh and make Him prove His humanity and God-head by making stones into bread. He refused saying that “Man doesn’t need bread, only God’s word” or some such thing. Ridiculous! I offered Him power to rule over all the nations if He would but bow to me. Again, He refused saying that there was but One God to be worshiped, His Father. What did He know? Then I told Him to jump off the pinnacle of a building and have the angels bear Him up, I even quoted one of David’s Psalms. He refused, even daring to order me to not tempt God Almighty. What arrogance!
The Pharisees, Sadducees, Chief Priests, and teachers of the law were my next great plan. I had them so confused and ignorant of their own Scriptures that they had no idea that the Man teaching their people was truly the Messiah they were waiting for. With their help, I had Jesus arrested, tried, and tortured. Oh, the torture! Seeing God’s precious Son being mocked, whipped, mutilated, and beaten was the most delightful thing I had ever seen!
And when Jesus hung on the cross, dying for no good reason, I rejoiced and watched His followers suffer pitifully as they watched their beloved King die a most horrific death.
My most glorious victory was the moment He died. I had finally reached my most brilliant, most waited-for moment! I had single-handedly orchestrated the death of the Son of God! He was dead! I had won! Victory! Oh, glorious, sweet victory!
Three wonderful, marvelous days passed! I flitted from place to place in Jerusalem and watched as the disciples and all the crowds who had followed Jesus mourned and grieved bitterly. I soaked in their grief and to me it was sweeter than honey. The taste of victory and revenge was superb indeed. I was almost tempted to go up to heaven to see what God was doing right now. Probably twisting His brains trying to figure out what He would do now that His plan had failed yet again.
As dawn rose the day after the Jews Sabbath, I had the feeling that something was different, but I didn’t know what. I flitted back to the tomb where they had put Jesus’ body. I looked around in confusion. I saw some women going there with spices. How quaint. But ahead, I saw what I thought was the correct tomb, but the stone was rolled away. In a panic, I went from one tomb to another and back to the first. I was just in time to see an angel talking to the women. As he finished talking to them, he looked into my eyes and gave a slight nod of recognition and then a smile. A smile? What was the smile for?
I looked back toward the women. They looked confused, but almost happy. What was going on? The panicky feeling grew stronger as I went back to where the disciples were staying. Just as I arrived, a woman came running into their midst, she said something that I did not catch and then Peter and John ran out of the house, down the streets, and out of town. I followed behind them. If nothing else, maybe I would get to the bottom of this.
They entered the tomb, but came out with a more confused look on their face than when they had entered. When I saw the man walking in the garden, I stopped dead in the air (figuratively). He looked vaguely familiar.
I heard more voices and turned around to see Mary Magdalene talking to two angels who stood in the tomb.
And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, and did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing Him to be the gardener, she said to Him, “Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to Him in Hebrew, “Rabboni!” (which means, Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Stop clinging to Me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to My brethren and say to them, ‘I ascend to My Father and your Father, and My God and your God.’”
I was stunned, shocked, dismayed…a failure! My plan had failed! Jesus had risen from the dead! My plan failed! He was Risen just as He said! I shook in rage, my nostrils flaring. I would not let this God ruin my plans again! I WOULD prevail. Somehow I would prevail.
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Thank you for reading my short story from the Satan’s view. I hope and pray that this story has made you think about your own life and about what Jesus Christ did for you. Jesus Christ took upon Himself the iniquities of us all and died a cruel, torturous death. But the best news in the whole thing is that He did not remain dead and in the grave! He rose from the dead, proving to all that He truly was the Son of the Most High God and that He can, indeed, give us eternal life!
Hallelujah, what a Savior! He is risen! He is risen indeed!
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