Entry 2: Belle gains understanding of her purpose
What I am and what I am meant to do are still not completely clear; there is so much I need to learn and know! It seems daunting, actually. These bits and pieces of knowledge that I understand need to be mine, they float around like bits of paper in the wind. One of the others tells me that is a simile. There is so, so much I do not understand.
I am told that I should record the thoughts and happenings in my existence here. The point is clear: recording these things will help me understand what God intends for me and, I’ve just found out, the other beings in my care. Or in my case, one being.
To be clear, here is what I know:
I am Zoe, a creation of God. Well, we are all creations of God, but for some reason I and the other Zoes are guardians of other creations, the Bios. We are commanded by Him to oversee and help the Bios, and because of this, we have been given capabilities that the Bios do not have. We can go from one place to another more quickly than they, we hear them when they think, we have more understanding of their existence and purpose than they do but are not permitted to come right out and tell them.
This puzzles me. If I’m supposed to help my Bios, then I should be able to give them all the history and information they need to become Zoes themselves. But He has declared that I withhold the totality of what I know. Since He knows all things, and since I don’t know all things, and since He is the Father and I am beloved of him, withholding knowledge from my Bios is what I’ll do. But I continue to be puzzled.
There are other Zoes and we are the same yet different. Some of us know what it is to be Bios, some of us don’t remember, and some of us never knew. Like me. I never knew what it was to live and breathe, to walk on the old Earth, to not know why I existed and what I was.
I do know, however, what my purpose is now. I am to guide and help a Bios that I’ve been assigned to. She, her name is Sarah, was/is someone special to me, and I’m to help her become as I am.
I have absolutely no idea how to do it.
The other Zoes, for the most part, are in the same predicament as I am. We are given to understand, however, that we will be given information—orders, as it were—about how to proceed. In the meantime, we wait for our Bios assignments, wait for the Bios themselves to come into being here.
I am standing in the Resurrectorium, in a room, near a bed. God gave me the understanding that very shortly a Bios will appear, a being that I have some connection to and who I’m supposed to help. I’m finding that my ignorance of how to do this is, well, irritating…I don’t know what God had in mind. I’m also told that when I need to know, I’ll be told.
Impatience. That’s what I’m feeling. God tells me that’s one of the qualities He loves in me; He says it’s curiosity that outruns itself.
My bios is waking up. She is a female, and I find myself wanting to both hold her in my arms and be held by her. I feel love for her, different somehow than the love I have for God. I have love for all, but this is different and it puzzles me.
Those above me, the angels, have taught me carefully about the Bios and the way they think. Their emotions are simple yet complicated; they have six different types of love, although they seem to confuse them. They feel guilty at their transgressions, yet sometimes don’t know it or feel guilty at feeling guilty. There are some who hide their feelings behind pretended joy, behind jokes. I’m still trying to get what a joke is. The angels talked of sarcasm, saying one thing but feeling the opposite, as a kind of joke.
Then there is hate. I do understand hate; the archangels themselves came to explain hate, since it is a part of evil. I understand it, as I do the presence of evil on the Earth that was, but wonder why it still exists. The angels say evil still exists because the Bios can’t seem to let go of it.
I’m pondering the complexity and tones of emotions that Bios can have when my Bios begins to stir.
I call her name with my voice, which I use very seldom. She wakes, and attempts sarcasm; it falls on me and melts instantly away. The angel who gives us our Bios puts in my conscious what my Bios, Sarai, did to cause her earthly body to die.
This I truly do not understand. Sarai, or she actually wants to be called Sarah, sought to give her life away without thought. No, she did think and decided she no longer wanted life. Our Lord and Father gives life and takes it away; Sarah removed herself from life, she threw away His gift.
There are other things that puzzle me, things I want to know but are hidden from me. I’ve asked why I do not know all, and the angels tell me it is God who knows all, not me. Not them, or the archangels, the principalities, the seraphim, the cherubim, or any of the other beings above me.
Sarah is waking. I must care for her and make sure she begins her learning, her journey into what God wants of her.
Sarah is a weak and troubled creature. Her corporal being is like a prison and it demands care, demands it quite selfishly. She must move slowly and needs to fuel her physical being freqently; it becomes tired, and she must rest it. She is a strange entity, full of contradictions.
Full of pain. It surrounds her like smoke. She doesn’t seem aware of it, even though it drives her to move and act in a way that’s doesn’t seem good for her. I realize that she doesn’t know God’s love and that His grace would make the smoke disappear, make the true parts of her shine. I also know she wouldn’t believe me about it if I tried to tell her, at least now.
I give her covering for her body, as she seems to find it uncomfortable to be as I am. She asks so many questions both with her mouth and her soul. I give her a sip of the Waters of Knowledge, which seems to strengthen her. I attempt a joke, using words I find in her thoughts, something about a television show. Her heart eases a little, and I am glad.
We walk toward the place where she will stay, where she will feed and rest in her weakness. She seems to know that her strength is little now, saying that her value is, therefore, little and that she has little significance. I try to reassure her, telling her that her value is great and that she is loved, as I am, by God. There is joy in me as I tell her, a joy I feel when in His Presence.
This message of God’s love for her makes her react in a truly strange way. A wave of fear, of trepidation, comes off her and causes me to become discouraged. Love. She doesn’t understand the true nature of His love. It is simple to me but to her it is a frightening mystery. Something seems to nudge her, to push her away from the mystery I am trying to solve with her.
Her pain is becoming my pain, and I am becoming discouraged. My words to her ears don’t seem to carry the message of God, at least she doesn’t seem to hear. The voice of Our Lord whispers to me, telling me to use a different sense to reach Sarah. A different sense: I am confused.
She is thinking as we walk about our surroundings, how it reminds her of the world she left but is obviously not the same. I want her to feel God’s love, know it is essential, but I don’t think her eyes will open until they are filled with the tears she hasn’t let herself shed.