Do you suppose even the trees grow weary because of sin? Not their sin, mind you—but ours. The Fall claimed more victims than mankind only: “For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Romans 8:19-21).

What thoughts come to mind when you think of the word history? Do the syllables conjure up memories of dreadfully boring school assignments and dusty books, prescribed by teachers whose minds were dustier still? Or, does a more romantic feeling overcome you? Feelings of deep mystery and high adventure; long shadows of thought cast by untold, ancient memory and the dwindling light of torches as they dance upon Roman forts and ancient pyramids. Indeed, what does history mean to

“This court, over which I am sovereign and Queen, finds you charged, Sir Gabriel the Knight, of the most heinous crimes against this land and her people. How do you plead?” The voice of the Queen, resolute and sharp, rippled across the room with an unnatural power.