The entire Bible as one body of light: 31,102 verses as glowing motes wheeling around a radiant center, threaded by a single scarlet curve of redemption.

Alpha and Omega

a story about the Light
swipe to begin  →
A single radiant gold Light turning over a deep blue-violet void — the beginning, before anything was made.

Before there was anything,
there was the Light.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." — John 1:1

A radiant sun rises over a calm sea at dawn, a golden path of light across the water, swirling pastel-rainbow clouds above and a flowering green shore below — the whole world newly made and filled with light.

The Light made the whole world.
He put colour into the dark.
He put morning into the night.
And it was good.

"And God said, Let there be light: and there was light." — Genesis 1:3

Two arms reach across a deep blue field — a beam of gold Light from above and a small red child's arm from below — their fingertips almost meeting at a bright spark of light, in the manner of Michelangelo's Creation of Adam.

Best of all,
the Light made you.
Not by accident —
on purpose,
to live close to Him.

"All things were made by him." — John 1:3

A golden sun with swirling rays lights a child sharing bread, while gray prizes sit in shadow.

What was He like?
Everything He made,
He made for you.
Everything He did,
He did for love.
The Light was love.

"God is love." — 1 John 4:8

A small red child stands at a threshold, turning his back on the warm gold Light to step into the cold dark, a long shadow falling.

But you let go of His hand.
You turned your face away.
You walked into the dark.

"By one man sin entered into the world." — Romans 5:12

A dark but fruitful garden at night: a single small child hides behind a cypress as a column of golden light comes walking to seek them, jewel-coloured fruit trees standing in the dark.

He came looking.
You hid.
But He called you —
and He called you by name.

"Where art thou?" — Genesis 3:9

A tiny red child alone in a vast cold swirling night, a single faint gold glimmer far away.

You went far into the dark.
Then farther.
You could not find the road.
You could not find your way home.

"The wages of sin is death." — Romans 6:23

A child on a hill holds the long unbroken string of a balloon carried far by a churning sky.

But even then —
far out, like a balloon on the wind —
He was holding the string.
He would not let you go.

"They shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." — John 10:28

A tall radiant gold Light advances into the dark, laying a road of light toward a small lost red child far ahead.

Then the Light did a wonderful thing.
He did not send for you.
He came down into the dark Himself,
to find you.

"The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost." — Luke 19:10

Wheat hills under a swirling sky: a road climbs from the far country and stops at the brink of a huge valley; a child in red stands at the edge, reaching toward a small home whose windows glow gold on the far rim, across the gulf, too far to reach on foot.

Now you wanted home
more than anything.
He set your feet on the road.
But the road stopped
at the edge of a deep, wide valley.

"I will arise and go to my father." — Luke 15:18

A bridge whose trusses form a cross spans a deep canyon; a child crosses it holding a golden figure's hand.

It was too wide to jump.
It was too deep to climb.
There was only one way over:
the Light would become the way.

"I am the way." — John 14:6

Darkness over all the land at noon: a sun gone black with only a thin grieving corona of dim gold, a heavy mourning violet-blue sky, and on a dark hill a cross of dark wood from which the gold Light clings and pours out, draining into the dark; drops of deep red fall from it, and at its foot a small child in red is curled and sheltered.

The way home cost everything.
The Light paid every bit.
He took the heavy dark
on His own back —
and carried it instead of you.

"Christ died for our sins." — 1 Corinthians 15:3

A sealed tomb in a dark hillside at night, the great round stone rolled across the mouth, a faint gold seam of held light behind it.

They laid Him in the dark.
They shut it with a stone.
For three days
the whole world held its breath.

"He was buried…" — 1 Corinthians 15:4

Dawn on the third day: a hillside with a great open cave — the empty tomb — its huge round stone rolled clear, brilliant light pouring out of the mouth across a gold-and-rose sky.

The dark could not hold Him.
The stone could not keep Him.
On the third morning
the Light stood up.

"He is not here: for he is risen." — Matthew 28:6

A wheat field under a churning sky: a returning figure takes three steps while the father runs past the road's halfway mark.

You still could not walk
the last step home.
But while you were a long way off,
He saw you — and He ran.
He would not let you go.

"When he was yet a great way off, his father saw him… and ran." — Luke 15:20

A gold-lit hand reaches down offering a small wrapped gift with a red ribbon; two small open hands reach up from below to receive it.

The way home stood open.
It was a gift.
You did not buy it.
You only opened your hands
and said: thank you.

"It is the gift of God." — Ephesians 2:8

The radiant Father carries a small child on his shoulders up a path toward his light-filled house, through the one glowing door that opens on a whole world of colour.

He carried you the last of the way,
in through the open door.
Once: lost in the dark.
Now: home in the Light.

"This my son was dead, and is alive again." — Luke 15:24

A red child under a falling stream of white-gold light, the scarlet stain washing away as a white robe of light forms over them.

He washed you with His own hands.
Every stain went.
Every mark was gone.

"Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." — Isaiah 1:18

A red child rises renewed in a brilliant new dawn, a flourishing field of jewel-coloured wildflowers and fruit trees waking to colour.

He made you new.
Not mended — new.
And He put His own light
inside you.

"If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature." — 2 Corinthians 5:17

A child plants a garden row beside a tomato plant heavy with red fruit; a fallen rock lies apart from the rows.

Your life began again.
Everything you planted grew.
Everything you watered
came into flower.

"He that abideth in me… bringeth forth much fruit." — John 15:5

In a bright day a red child with a soft white aura walks a winding path through green flowering fields, carrying a warm glowing loaf of light whose glow falls on the path one step ahead.

Every day He feeds you.
Every night He keeps you.
And He lights the next step
of the way.

"I am the bread of life." — John 6:35

Two trees bent in slashing rain; below the ground one tree's roots blaze gold, gripping deep.

Storms still came.
Storms always do.
But your roots had gone down deep,
and they held.
He would not let you go.

"The floods came… and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock." — Matthew 7:25

Three children walk holding hands; the middle one trips but the held hands catch the fall.

You were not alone.
Others walked the road with you.
When one of you slipped,
the rest held on.

"A threefold cord is not quickly broken." — Ecclesiastes 4:12

A warm ring of figures — the red child and others in their own colours — gathered around one shared golden light.

He gave you a whole family:
many faces,
one Light.

"They continued stedfastly… in fellowship, and in breaking of bread." — Acts 2:42

A child kneels at a bed in a blue night while a soft golden light comes down and wraps around them.

When the dark came close,
you talked to Him.
He always answered.
He always said: I am here.

"Call unto me, and I will answer thee." — Jeremiah 33:3

A great radiant Light fills the frame: a blazing white-gold core, concentric ray-swirls turning outward into every colour of a rose-window of glory, and a heart hidden in the innermost ring.

The Light who made you.
The Light who loved you.
The Light who came down
to bring you home.
This Light is God,
and His name is Jesus.

"I am the light of the world." — John 8:12

A great radiant open door of light, a river of living water flowing out from its threshold toward the viewer.

Now He holds the door open.
Will you come home?

"Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." — Revelation 22:17

A washed red child with a soft white aura takes the hand of a darker figure still in the shadow and leads them up a brightening golden road toward a distant radiant Light and home.

Then He gives you
the best work of all.
Take a friend's hand.
Show them the way home.

"We are labourers together with God." — 1 Corinthians 3:9

In the dark, a child's lit candle leans toward another child's unlit wick — one flame, mid-transfer.

His light is in you now.
So carry it into the dark.
One small light
is enough to see by.

"Let your light so shine before men." — Matthew 5:16

The heavens split open with a descending gold glory and a spectral bow, tiny figures on the dark earth below lifting their arms up.

One day soon
the Light is coming back.
Not for the world only.
For you.

"Behold, I come quickly." — Revelation 22:12

A radiant golden City of light on a hill with a river of life flowing down and no shadow anywhere — the everlasting home.

At last you will be home for good.
No more dark.
No more tears.
No more night —
only the Light.

"There shall be no night there… for the Lord God giveth them light." — Revelation 22:5

The entire Bible as one body of light: 31,102 verses as motes arranged by canonical order and graph distance from John 1:1, thousands of real cross-reference filaments, and a single scarlet thread tracing the bloodline of redemption from Genesis 3:15 to Revelation 22:13, ending at the edge of the radiant center.

You came from the Light.
You are going home to the Light.
And all the way —
there was the Light.

Every light here is one verse; the red thread is the blood. "In him was life; and the life was the light of men." — John 1:4  ·  all 31,102 verses, placed by their true distance from the Word.