God Doesn't Make Mistakes, Only Creations

The Angel knew he had made a huge mistake. There was no doubt. Only moments ago, he had accidentally punched in the source code for “plague.” He meant to type in “prayer,” but his fingers slipped on the keys— stupid keyboards. The moment heaven digitized angelic work, he knew it would be a disaster.

His hands were for smiting, pointing, and waving – NOT for imbecilic tapping. Typing was HUMAN work. Humans were the only species in the universe swindled into thinking a day job led to a fulfilling life. Humanity openly worships the devil’s greatest demon: greed. Typing was demanded of the billions of unaware enslaved humans working these menial tasks. All for the pursuit of money.

Which is why it bothered him greatly that the Lord installed an “IT Director” among his ranks and demanded that his legions become computer-proficient. Most angels acclimated quickly and loved the universe-wide-web or UWW.

But the Lord Giveth and the Lord Taketh, and the Lord tooketh the angel’s computer rights away for thirty days, pending his final hearing. Thirty days without his Angel-mail or Angel-Message. Worst of all, he would be unable to A-Message his friends about human television programming. Though their portrayals of the divine were always wrong, they were entertaining. One mistake and he was back to shoulder angel work, otherwise known as S.H.A.W. Why angel leadership included the "H" was beyond him, but it led to obsessive references to a human film called THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION.

SHAW work consisted of influencing humanity to do good. Meanwhile, evil was on the other side, influencing humans to do bad. Humans could fall into evil or work towards being good. But sometimes divine influence was needed to make that final push. Success in this endeavor was dependent on your power level, and he had stored up for decades before his recent mistake. Now, he was required to influence at least 10,000 humans to do good before Midsummer. Influencing was one of the few jobs humans tried to steal from the divine, but once again, it was in the service of greed.

Every day, the angel was compelled to visit a human in great need, one usually suffering from a moral quandary, and try to push them towards goodness. Angels possessed the power to imbue emotions, especially those best suited to making the “right choice.” But this generation was HARD. They questioned every little thing, and pushing them towards the morally right choice was impossible. They had full-on conversations with their moral consciousness, and he struggled to hold on to his influence. They had follow-up questions and concerns and "what-ifs" that made him want to “kill now,” and he was tired of trying to influence this chronically self-aware generation.

Humans insist on making every choice, no matter how difficult or easy, completely on their own unlike angels who live to see the Creator succeed. Conformity and rebellion exist in both ranks and species, but humans were designed to be free-thinking and free in their choices. They received forgiveness for their “mistakes.”

Which was annoying. While the seraphim worked towards rebuilding most of central Ohio, he was doing scut work. To be fair, central Ohio wasn’t decimated or fully destroyed, but 40,000 rabbits appeared in Columbus, OH, and even more across the state. The rabbits invaded overnight—a fluffy plague bent on scurrying away from humans in packs. But this led to rabbits on the roadways and car accidents everywhere. Not to mention, it had been night for a week (no one had fixed this). All those factors resulted in significant property damage.

He had messed up. Absolutely. But wasn’t he proof that he could make a difference? Sure, it wasn’t a “difference” anyone wanted, but it was an attempt? The angel wasn't human; he wasn't forgiven for his failures, but couldn’t the Lord make one exception in his case?

His last few SHAW cases were boring. Uneventful. A child-human was torn between returning twenty dollars to their sister’s piggy bank (why humans stuff their currency into a porcelain pig is bizarre in his opinion), or taking the money to the gas station and buying candy. Pushing him towards returning it required only the slightest nudge. The other human he influenced was torn between yelling at their mom and letting things go.

When he finished with the last human, he headed back to the barracks. Shoulder Angels bunked together to form strong bonds and to share their knowledge of humanity. SHAW work was emotionally exhausting, but knowing your bunkmates were in it too, that they understood your pain, helped.

As he walked up the limestone and diamond driveway, at least seven other angels were hanging out on the front porch, but he had no intention of talking. He didn’t want to be close to anyone here. What was the point? He was going to be “Doing Time” any day now. Punishments from the Lord were sardonically compared to the treatment of the SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION inmates. A fact angel leadership attempted to squash.

The other angels whispered as he walked into the barracks. He said nothing. None of them understood his pain. None of these angels wanted to switch to computers. SHAW work requires in-person influence; this has always been its cornerstone. How could angels help humanity if it were through a computer screen? Reducing humanity to numbers diminishes their individuality as a species.

His summoning happened at midnight. Gabriel and Michael grabbed him from his bed and presented him before the Creator. They flanked Gideon on either side. His final hearing was at hand. The Lord was not corporeal or spiritual. He was something in between. He was a soft, glowing light, swathed in blues, purples, and gold. But sometimes the light bent into different colors, shapes, animals, and beings. The lord was always in motion, always creating, and it always looked effortless.

The Creator used to be fully corporeal, but then the Big Bang happened; the All-Father split half of his essence to light up the sun. But the power expenditure was too much, and the universe exploded. It took the Lord several millennia to regain his powerful essence. Energy could never be destroyed, and all it took was time to regain more.The Lord flared brightly in the angel’s presence, a bright fuchsia.

“Hello, Gideon,” The lord said. “Hallowed be the land between most of central Ohio due to your mistake.”

“Yes, Milord,” He replied.

There was nothing else to say. Failure was not an option for an angel. But in his opinion? Failure was inevitable because of the universe the Almighty created. Call it “chance,” or “luck,” or “coincidence.” Or even call it “fate.” The universe in which God’s creations were born was always changing.

But gods did not want to be approached with their failures.

The Almighty shifted into a bright emerald horse and whinnied with annoyance. “Gideon, we cannot have angels blowing up farmland. Not to mention, we can’t be sending bunny plagues by mistake.” Gideon couldn’t hide his wince.

He coughed delicately. “To be fair, Columbus isn’t farm land. But of all the plagues to happen, this one wasn’t so bad.”

“Not to mention,” He continued pleadingly, “The amount of miracles performed by the SHAWs prevented any casualties from the rabbits! Plus, plenty of humans learned to love for the first time! Many just needed a companion to focus their adoration upon.” He tried to pace where he stood, but Gabriel had a hold of his wings behind him. Could every mistake lead to some kind of good? Humans did love to philosophize about mistakes.

“How many humans learned to love from a plague-rabbit?” The Lord’s deep baritone was drier than the forty years Moses spent in the desert.

“About 74.” Gideon tried to hide his flinch.

The Lord shifted and blared orange with anger. “Gideon, you are not being honest with me.”

“Alright, it was seven.” Gideon stared down at his feet dejectedly. Humanity was not easily swayed to “love” by plagues, let alone rabbits. These rabbits also caused five car pile-ups on the highway. They scurried in packs and ate anything green in their path. This led to entire buildings collapsing as their foundations were gnawed away.

“Seven humans being taught to love isn't bad, Gideon. It just wasn’t part of the Plan.” The Lord exhaled a deep breath. Which was startling, as He didn’t have lungs, as far as Gideon could see. “You need more experience with the humans. Which is why today you will be Reanimated –”

But Gideon interrupted at the same time, "–You mean 'Doing Time.'"

A lilac wind blew cold air into Gideon’s face. He gasped; the Lord had cold-cocked him with wind. “Almighty, I apologize, that's what the SHAWs call it, because of the SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION." He quickly dipped his head in supplication.

God scoffed with annoyance. “I never should have let Uziel screen that movie during Michael’s Feast Day. Most human technology only ruins things. Storytelling, my first beautiful creation, fell prey to artificial thought—recycling and reusing of the WORD.”

Michael had the good sense to appear troubled.

“Amen, Almighty,” Gideon murmured. “Which is why I move to abolish the use of computers for miracles, smiting, or plague-requests. We need to be handling these in person! Today’s mistake is on me, I agree, but those commands shouldn't be programmed into the system at all. Why should the power over man be through a computer? Are we not the holiest of your vessels?” At this point, he was shouting. For the first time in eons, he felt rage and could not stop its explosive force.

“My purpose has always been to obey, but as your vessel of The Word, as your Messenger, and Hand of Purpose - I must implore you, do not take away our duties in favor of expediency.” He finished.

God emitted a dark purple eggplant color. “The humans have grown at a rate none of us could have anticipated.”

“The Almighty doesn’t know the potential of his own creations?” Gideon couldn’t believe he was being so bold. The lord flared even darker.

“Oh, Gideon. Your potential is exactly why you’re here. Angelic Leadership lets you believe “Doing Time –” the Lord said with a huff – ”is a punishment. But really, it's a gift. If everyone knew the truth, they would all come knocking. You question creation and the philosophies of both Man and your God. You have questions, and will not be satisfied without them.”

Gideon’s heart clenched. Everyone knew “Doing Time” was not a gift. It was usually because you were too curious or complained too much. But pointing this out wouldn’t help. He gave the lord a shaky smile.

“You knew? All this time?”

“Yes. You’re not the first angel I’ve turned into a human.” The sky seemed to hum in answer.

“You’re turning me into a human? That's ‘Doing Time’?” Gideon couldn’t help shouting.

“Of course. Energy cannot be destroyed; your angelic energy shall be converted into becoming human. Gideon turned to stare at his wings. All angels were born with wings, but the color was dependent on the region of their birth. Heaven was an enormous plane, and his family line was known for its bright orange wings. His own wings were a deep sienna orange.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not even for a moment,” The Lord reassured him. “You’ll wake up as a screaming baby, unable to talk or think for the first five years.” The lord’s light enveloped Gideon as he said this, His divinity surrounding his body like a vise. “You will have no control over your bowels, mind, or needs and will be completely dependent on an adult human for several years.”

Gideon struggled against God’s essence, but it was no use. “What? That sounds terrible! I don’t want to be Human, it looks awful. Humans are horrifying creatures. You said this wasn’t a punishment!” He cried.

“Creation is never a punishment, Gideon. Creation is neither good nor evil. It is life without certainty—a life of free choices and circumstances. You will be free of me and I of you. When you reach out to me, I shall listen. But you will not hear me.”

“I fail to see how this is a gift!”

“Gideon,” The Lord began, his essence a bright silver stag, “You wish to make mistakes and be forgiven for them. The only way this can happen is if you’re a human.”

“Couldn’t you just forgive me just this once?”

“No. It would set a precedent.”

“We have an entire BIBLE with PRECEDENTS!”

“ENOUGH GIDEON!” The Lord’s mighty roar caused the Pearly Gates to grind shut again.

“But why a baby? Couldn’t I wake up as a fully grown man?”

“Do you think I’d let YOU be fully grown upon entering the Earth, but not my own son?”

Gideon opened his mouth to answer, but Michael jabbed him in the side.

Gideon was desperate for a way out. The humans called it “grasping at straws,” which made no sense to him, and popped up in his mind at the oddest of times. “But I know too much! How can I even attempt to be an adequate human if I know everything about Heaven?” The answer came to him suddenly. “You’re going to wipe my memory.”

“Yes,” God said simply.

“But –”

“Enough, Gideon! “God said sharply. “Your time as an angel is up. You need to fully understand my creations before passing judgment.”

“‘Passing judgment?’” Gideon spat. “Does this mean my discernment is equal to yours?”

“No, Gideon, it means your discernment will align with my Own. Or you shall spend a century as an insect again.” The Lord said waspishly, as a bright yellow wasp. Which, any other time, would have led to an exclamation over the quality of the Lord’s accidental pun, but Gideon’s impending reincarnation suffocated his good humor.

“Humans are stupid creatures who only recently learned to speak.” He snapped.

“Humanity learned to speak 30,000 years ago, Gideon." The lord was a stickler for facts, especially for his creation's major milestones. God also made note of humanity’s first bowel movement, first time doing karaoke, etc.

“As I said, they only learned speech recently. Can I pick the country? The time? What about the gender?” He wasn't beyond begging at this point.

The Lord's yellow wombat-essence hovered above him.

“No, you will not be in control of your destiny, Gideon. I will.” And with that, God shoved Gideon’s soul into a baby at random.