Deadline - randy alcorn ****

He had no tool with which to inflict harm on himself, nor did this body, though capable of great suffering, seem capable of being harmed. His body was like a bush that burned but was not consumed. The pain that could neither end nor be relieved seared his mind, now in a fearful craze.

Thirst without water to quench it. Hunger without food to satisfy it. Loneliness without company to assuage it. There was no God here. He’d gotten his wish. On earth he’d managed to reject God while still getting in on so many of the blessings and provisions of God. But it was now clear, excruciatingly clear, the absence f God meant the absence of all God gives. No one could have good without the God who is the source of all good. No God, no good. Forever. Doc was overwhelmed with the horror of it all. Doctor Gregory Lowell had wanted a world where no one else was in charge, where no order was forced upon him. He had finally gotten it. He missed the sound of laughter. There was no laughter here. There could no laughter where there was no hope. The awful realization descended on him that there was no storyline here. No opening scene, no developing plot, no climax, no resolution. No character development. No travel , no movement. Only constant nothingness, going nowhere. This was Doc’s first day in hell. And he knew, despite every protestation erupting from within him, that every day would be the same, and his days here there could be no end. Excruciating eternal boredom. It was all so terribly unfair. For a moment he longed to be in heaven, to be in the very presence of God. But he could not allow this God-hunger to continue. He could not face God’s existence, much less his goodness and justice, and the commentary it made on all the inexorable choices that had shaped his life in the other world, and determined his destiny here. A wave of something came across him. He sensed it was some extension of the presence of an omnipotent God, like a wind blowing through the deserts of hell. It was the same presence that in heaven caused men to be filled with joy and awe and love. But here even God’s love felt like wrath and his joy like torture. The consuming fire of God that was purity and goodness and comfort to those who loved the light was blinding searing punishment to those who love the darkness. The same fire of God that was life-giving warmth in heaven, drawing all to huddle around it rejoicing, here was a destructive life consuming inferno compelling all to flee in terror. “Get away from me! Get away!” In horror and revulsion Doc tried to escape the one who had finally consented to withdraw from him, but even then could not finally be escaped. God’s very existence was a mortal insult, an eternal slap in his face. It was not enough for god to withdraw. He must cease to exist. If only God were no longer God, This misery would be endurable. Hell was merely heaven refused

- Salvation, Eternity, Heaven/Hell,