Jesus has seen everything. He has watched kingdoms topple and empires fall to ruin, grand sweeping statements of impermanence. He has seen continents split apart, mountains crumble and rebuild themselves again, jungles burn and flourish with gemstone-hued flora, watched fauna crawl its way out of the water, turn larger than life and become very small. Jesus has seen everything. He has watched families topple and love fall to ruin. He has watched mothers topple and fathers crumble, watched hiccuped whispers on their daughter's lips, watched bottles spin and sticky-sweet lipgloss kisses and sickly-sweet afterburn swallows. He has watched families split apart and He has watched houses erode, watched the foundation shift in earthquakes and watched earthquakes shift people— or is it people that shift earthquakes? At any rate, He is much more interested in the people. He has watched the swift snap of death and He has watched the slow crawl of decay, and He has permitted it all. He has watched humanity crawl from the water and He has let them crawl. He has watched humanity grow large enough to swallow the Earth whole and small enough to shrink in on themselves, and He has watched the growth and decay with all the vague interest of the rise and fall in a line graph. He has watched the world become a black hole, a negative amount of space, and He has permitted it. He has permitted it.