**The Vision of the End Times: Daniel’s Final Revelation**
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the land of Babylon. The aged prophet Daniel, his hair silvered with years and his face lined with wisdom, knelt in prayer by the banks of the Tigris River. His heart was heavy, for he had seen many visions—some of glory, others of terror—and he knew the hand of the Lord was upon him once more.
Suddenly, the air around him grew thick with divine presence. A brilliance like the noonday sun, yet purer and more piercing, enveloped him. He lifted his eyes and beheld a mighty angel standing before him, clothed in linen, his waist girded with gold from Uphaz. His body was like beryl, his face like lightning, his eyes like flaming torches, and his arms and feet gleamed like burnished bronze. The sound of his voice was like the roar of a multitude.
Trembling, Daniel fell to his face, his strength draining from him. But the angel stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, *”O Daniel, man greatly beloved, understand the words that I speak to you, and stand upright, for I have been sent to you.”*
At the angel’s touch, strength returned to Daniel’s limbs, and he rose, though his heart still quaked within him.
*”But you, Daniel, shut up the words and seal the book until the time of the end. Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall increase.”*
Daniel’s brow furrowed. *”My lord, what shall be the end of these things?”* he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The angel’s gaze burned with holy fire. *”Go your way, Daniel, for the words are closed up and sealed till the time of the end. Many shall be purified, made white, and refined, but the wicked shall do wickedly; and none of the wicked shall understand, but the wise shall understand.”*
Daniel’s heart ached with longing for clarity. *”How long shall it be to the end of these wonders?”*
The angel lifted his hands toward heaven, and his voice thundered like the rushing of many waters. *”From the time that the daily sacrifice is taken away, and the abomination of desolation is set up, there shall be one thousand two hundred and ninety days. Blessed is he who waits and comes to the one thousand three hundred and thirty-five days.”*
Daniel’s mind reeled at the numbers, the mystery of them pressing upon his spirit. *”But you, go your way till the end; for you shall rest and stand in your allotted place at the end of the days.”*
With those final words, the radiance of the angel’s presence began to fade, like the last embers of a great fire. The weight of the vision settled upon Daniel’s soul, a solemn promise and a warning intertwined. He knew that these words were not for his time but for a distant generation—a people who would face trials beyond imagining, yet with the hope of ultimate deliverance.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Daniel bowed his head once more in prayer, his spirit both burdened and comforted. The Lord had spoken, and though much remained hidden, he trusted in the wisdom of the Almighty. The scroll of time would unroll in the Lord’s perfect season, and the righteous would shine like the stars forever and ever.
And so, the prophet sealed the words in his heart, knowing that one day, all would be revealed.
