The Throne Room Buried in Desert Sand

In 1899, German archaeologist Robert Koldewey began excavating a series of mud-brick mounds along the Euphrates River in modern-day Iraq. After years of painstaking work, his team uncovered the throne room of Nebuchadnezzar II — the very king Daniel had served. The chamber stretched nearly 170 feet long, its walls once blazing with glazed blue bricks and golden lions. Visiting dignitaries had once trembled walking that long approach to the king's seat.

But Koldewey found no throne. No gold. No roaring lions. Just crumbling walls open to the sky, half-swallowed by sand. The mighty Babylonian empire that had conquered nations and dragged thousands into exile had been reduced to an archaeological curiosity, its throne room a tourist footnote.

Daniel had watched Babylonian power at its zenith. He had seen the banquets, the armies, the terrifying reach of imperial authority. Yet in his vision, God pulled back the curtain on a throne room that made Nebuchadnezzar's look like a child's sandcastle. The Ancient of Days took His seat — robes white as snow, throne ablaze with living fire, ten thousand times ten thousand standing before Him. And to the One like a Son of Man, He gave a dominion that no desert wind would ever bury.

Every earthly throne eventually becomes rubble. The throne Daniel saw has no expiration date.