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ANGELS AT WAR – PART 2 – CHAPTER 8

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 8

CRICKET KARR AND THE ROCK STAR

SULLY SAGE

FOR GOD MAY SPEAK IN ONE WAY, OR ANOTHER, YET MAN DOES NOT PERCEIVE IT. IN A DREAM, IN A VISION OF THE NIGHT. (Job 33:14, 15)

  “Why are you giggling?” Violetta asked. Her face was inches from mine as her eyes glared lazers at me. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming, but it already felt like she was going to break my arm as it twisted unnaturally behind my head.

  “I know something you don’t know,” I told her.

  “What?” she replied. Her large, lovely blue-green eyes squinted suspiciously.

  “I too have studied martial arts.”

  My words threw her off guard, and she relaxed just a little. Before what I told her could sufficiently sink in, our roles were reversed. She now found herself on her back with her arm twisting unnaturally. “How do you like it now?”

  “I like it just fine,” she replied with clenched teeth.

  She slipped out of it somehow, and we grappled for a minute. She was good, very good! She rolled away from me and sprung to her feet. She crouched in an attack position. I did likewise, and began to say, “Look, Violetta, lets…”

  Right when I began to speak this, she went where I was unwilling to go with punching or kicking. She came in fast and low right when I began to speak and rise from bended knees. She meant to slug me in the abdomen, but the blow went low and landed on my male reproductive system. The lightning bolt of pain felt like it blew the top of my head off.

  I hit the ground with a thud, and curled in a fetal position. One positive that came from this experience of excruciating pain was that it showed me a different side of Violetta for the first time. She crouched by my side and put a hand on my upper arm. She bent close enough to my ear that it tickled when she spoke. I guess she thought noise would add to my misery. “Sully, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you there… Are you alright?”

  “No,” I groaned.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing… Except… Stop… Being… Violent.”

  It felt like hours before the pain began to subside, but it was probably only minutes. I rolled onto my back, took a deep breath, and sighed. I looked at Violetta. Although her face looked very concerned, I said, “You’re mean.”

  Her hand covered her mouth, her eyebrows raised, and her eyes actually looked merry rather than the fierce gaze I had become accustomed to. She apologized again, but giggled as she did so.

  “You think it’s funny?”

  “You have to admit it is kind of funny.”

  “No, I don’t!”

  Now she outright laughed. Then like a switch was flipped, her fierce demeanor returned. “This all started when I saw you pointing a gun at yourself. How dare you contemplate something so selfish! Especially right before Callie and Jeremey’s wedding!”

  “Violetta, it had no bullets. And I was just looking at it, not pointing it at myself. I was gonna throw it into the river.”

  “Oh,” she frowned. There seemed to be genuine meekness in her countenance before she scolded. “You still should not handle a firearm so carelessly, regardless of whether it is loaded or not.”

  “Yeah, I know, you’re right,” I admitted, as I put one arm under my head and another over my eyes.

  “Is there anything I can do? I truly feel bad.”

  “Mouth to mouth resuscitation,” I replied mildly.

  “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” she replied testily. “In your dreams, fella.”

  “I need some type of resuscitation, that’s for sure,” I said, surprising myself.

  The physical pain must have caused my emotional pain to resurface. That unbearable feeling of being alone, especially in a crowd. Ever since my wife died, I had nobody to truly confide in. I was paranoid. I didn’t even fully trust my cousin Jeremey, even though he was the closest thing to a brother that I had. I had watched him eagerly ride the coattails of my celebrity too many times.

  But the Karr sisters were like a breath of fresh air. It seemed neither were impressed with my celebrity status. But they came at their indifference from two different angles. Violetta’s whole attitude toward me was hostile like, ‘you really think you’re something.’ Which made me ponder, do I? I suppose my obnoxious reaction toward her attitude only fed her harsh approach toward me.

  Cricket, on the other hand, treated me with subtle pity. This was actually worse. She also was so honest. But it came across with gentleness and meekness. Even the first time I spoke with her, I detected something different. I even hinted at my emotional despair. Now I just gave Violetta a similar hint and instantly regretted it. What was it about the Karr sisters that was urging me to open up?

  “What do you mean you need to be resuscitated?” Violetta asked.

  I sat up and hooked the crook of my arms around my knees. Her countenance was neutral, but curious. It had been a long time since I felt like I could trust somebody, like I did Poppy. Oh how I missed her! I couldn’t stop my eyes from welling. As a matter of fact, the effort only opened up the spicket. I felt embarrassed and tried to cover up. “Oh the pain, you throw quite a punch.”

  With a sympathetic tone approaching her sister’s, she asked, “Is it really from the punch?”

  I nodded.

  “Fair enough,” she replied, and picked up my gun. “Once again, I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean for our little sparring match to get out of hand. Since you’re incapacitated, do you want me to throw this in the river for you?”

  “Go for it.”     

  She threw it like a frisbee, and as it sailed through the air, it reminded me of a boomerang. It made me wonder when my dalliance with death would return. I had to stay strong for at least a few months.

  “I need to get going,” Violetta said. “You gonna be alright?”

  “Do you really care?”

  “Look, I meant it when I said I was sorry.”

  “Wow, so you do have a compassionate side. Must be Cricket’s influence.”

  She smiled. It wasn’t a warm and fuzzy grin, but pleasant enough. Especially since during or brief acquaintance, I had become accustomed to seeing her pretty lips pursed and her lovely eyes narrowed. “That’s truer than you realize.”

  In the midnight hour, my mind rotated back and forth pondering the Karr sisters as I laid in bed. No woman had moved me like my Poppy did. Now a pair of sisters both had come the closest, yet in different ways. I couldn’t sleep so I watched some reruns of ‘The Andy Griffith Show.’ Then I played some games on my phone. Some time after four I drifted off to sleep and ended up having the most profound dream of my life.

  I was walking in a beautiful meadow. Long grass shimmered and sparkled in the sunlight. I marveled at the majesty of the rich green grass with golden tips waving and twinkling in a gentle breeze with a powder blue sky above. A majestic mountain loomed in the distance.

  Suddenly I came upon Poppy’s tombstone. I was puzzled because this wasn’t the correct setting, as beautiful as it was. Then Cricket seemed to appear out of nowhere. She sat atop Violetta’s mare, Ivory Bell. She asked, “Would you like to see her again?”

  “Would I ever!”

  “You can, at the second coming of the Lord Jesus, when the righteous are caught up to meet the Lord in the air. The dead will rise first. Then we who are alive will be caught up with them. Therefore you will be with your beloved Poppy again. Isn’t that a comfort?”

  “Yes, yes it is,” I replied.

  I told Cricket about my dream. Keep in mind, at the time I was not a student of the Bible. I had only thumbed through it a few times. So I was absolutely blown away when she shared 2 Thessalonians chapter four with me. In particular, verses sixteen through eighteen.

  “Follow me to the mountain of panic and peace,” Cricket had said in my dream.

  “Panic and peace? That’s a contradiction.”

  “That’s because narrow is the road, and difficult is the way, and few make it to the top,” she explained, paraphrasing Matthew 7:13, 14.

  “Come,” she said, waving her arm in a follow her gesture.

  She galloped off and I began to run. I was surprised at how fast I moving, yet Cricket, on the back of Ivory Bell, began to fade into the distance. I ended up at a twenty foot gate made of wrought iron. I couldn’t get it open. Then I heard a deep soothing voice.

  “Would you like entrance?” a bearded man asked. His attire was that of a mountain man or maybe a lumberjack with red flannel shirt, tan Carhart pants, and work boots. His face was friendly, his gaze strong but gentle.

  “Did you see a young lady on a pale horse?” I asked.

  “I did. She’s at the top. Now would you like entrance?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Although I had pushed on the wrought iron gate to no avail, he pushed it aside with ease. “Who are you?”

  “Jack Querida is my name,” he replied. “Helping people negotiate the mountain of life is my game.”

  “Will I make it to the top?”

  “If you turn your eyes upon Jesus.”

  “Is this the mountain of life? Cricket called it the mountain of panic and peace.”

  “I suppose it could represent both. For now let’s call it an allegory of the mountain of life. Cricket is at the top. Go to her, and she will guide you to the Way the Truth and the Life.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ll find out. For now follow me. Stick to the trail and you will make it to Cricket. But there is one rule. That rule is to keep your eyes on the trail up the mountain. Do not look to the right or left. The farther we go, the narrower the road gets. Therefore the further you will plumet if you take your eyes off the path.”

  The journey began. The more distance we covered, the more narrow the trail became just like he said. When it narrowed to the point of needing to place one foot directly in front of the other, I stopped, placing my hands against the cool rock of the mountain. I fully understood why part of the name was panic. “Jack!”

  “I’m here.”

  He had been in front, but now he was behind me! How did he do that?

  “Keep looking up the trail. You are almost there.”

  I kept moving along, hating how high and precarious it seemed. Then I saw Cricket twenty feet away on plateau, sitting on Ivory Bell. How did they get up there? A halo of light was behind her, making her look angelic, but her countenance was somber. “Cricket.”

  She didn’t speak, only waved her arm in a come motion. The path was now so narrow I couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. I could only scoot. I was terrified! I was only ten feet away from Cricket when I came to a narrow opening, just wide enough for a body to squeeze through. Keep your eyes forward, Jack had instructed. But when a voice spoke, the unexpected sound caused my head to look in the opening.

  “Sully!” It was Violetta. She looked just like she did when we grappled in black running attire and her strawberry blonde hair in a single braid. Her arm stretched toward me. “Take my hand.”

  I did, and the next thing I knew I was in a small cave with her. I laid on my back with my breath coming in desperate gasps. It was so hard to breath! Violetta scowled at me. “Get a grip.”

  Her hand reeled back and she slapped me. But I didn’t feel a thing. She did it again, but once again I didn’t feel it. She sighed and said, “You poor thing. You do need mouth to mouth resuscitation.”

  Her head lowered toward mine and our mouths connected. She began to kiss me and it felt so real! I was kissing her back and it wasn’t unpleasant at all, quite the opposite. But we had barely begun when Cricket’s voice put a stop to the brief passion. “Sully, you were almost there!”

  I jolted awake and my eyes blinked at sunlight streaming through the cracks of the window shade. I was laying on my back, and my arm was covering my mouth. No wonder I was having a hard time breathing. Scowling, I grabbed a tissue and began to wipe away slobber from my arm. I wasn’t making out with Violetta; I was kissing my own limb as I dreamt.

  I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. It showed twelve twenty in the afternoon. I jumped in the shower, and at just before one PM, I made my way downstairs. To my surprise, Cricket was there by herself sitting at the kitchen table reading. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back with a clip. Her blue gray eyes seemed to twinkle. Not for the first time I marveled at the atmosphere of peace and brightness that seemed to always surround her. She wasn’t as pretty as her sister, but she was more beautiful, if that makes sense.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Good afternoon,” she replied with a giggle and a warm smile.

  “Yes, I suppose it is afternoon. You should have let me know you were here.”

  “No big deal. Callie said you would probably sleep past noon.”

  “I guess my body is still on touring schedule. Are you here by yourself?”

  “I am now. Callie and Violetta just left.”

  No sooner had she said this, when Violetta burst through the screen door saying, “I forgot my tea… Oh, hi Sully.”

  “Violetta.”

  She eyed me cooly, then picked up her travel mug. I watched her mouth connect with the container and take a sip. Then she licked her upper lip and said, “Hot.”

  “Yes,” I said, as I eyed her mouth. Kissing her in my dream felt so real! I perceived her aiming a frown at me. “Those insulated mugs hold heat rather well.”

  She nodded, said bye, and just like that her appearance was in and out like a lovely vapor.

  “Are you ready for our study?” Cricket asked. “Or do you want to wait awhile?”

  “I’m ready,” I said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her at the rectangular table. “But let me ask you something first. What do think of dreams?”

ANGELS AT WAR – PART 2 – CHAPTER 7

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 7

SULLY SAGE

WHILE WE DO NOT LOOK AT THE THINGS WHICH ARE SEEN, BUT AT THE THINGS WHICH ARE NOT SEEN. FOR THE THINGS WHICH ARE SEEN ARE TEMPORARY, BUT THE THINGS WHICH ARE NOT SEEN ARE ETERNAL. (2 Corinthians 4:18)

  The gun slammed into the back of my head, and I understood why cartoons showed stars circling a noggin after a blow. The gun was my own and the hand that whacked me was also mine. But I did have a little help.

  Right when I was rearing back to throw the unregistered gun I had been considering ending my life with into the river, Cricket hollered, “Sully, don’t!”

  When I raised the weapon to throw, Cricket assumed I had lifted it to cause self-inflicted harm. A couple nights previous that would have been the case. Then, I had pointed the barrel both under my chin and at my temple. But I was having a hard time squeezing the trigger. I just about had myself talked into it when my cousin called.

  Would I have gone through with it? I shudder to think I would have. But once my cousin reminded me of his impending wedding, I could not put a blight on it by ending my own life. I figured I would now have to wait at least a couple months before putting an end to what I considered a miserable existence. How bizarre. I was living what was supposed to be a dream existence, yet I hated it! Financially I was set for life, but I dreaded the future.

  Even though it was my intention to die in the near future, I didn’t want to hang on to an illegal pistol for several weeks or months. Besides, why die in such a violent fashion? Was I intrigued by drama I claimed to hate? Was I infected by rock star disease, wanting to go out with a bang, like Kurt Cobain? Subconsciously, did I actually want to go down in rock history by joining the notorious twenty-seven club?

  Yes, I did want to die. But no, I didn’t want to join the twenty-seven club. I would endure this world and tolerate my tormented mind for five and a half more months until I turned twenty-eight. Then Jeremey and Callie’s wedding would be sufficiently past as well. I also would die by an overdose rather than the violence of a hollow point bullet ripping through my squirming brain.

  As I winced and grabbed my head, the gun dropped into a clump of weeds. Cricket came rushing up. “Sully, shame on you! What a dark blight you would put on Callie and Jeremey’s wedding by what you were about to do!”

  “I wasn’t,” I began, but moaned at a throb of pain.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Sully,” Cricket said sympathetically. “I shouldn’t scold you when you feel so poorly that you want to kill yourself.”

  “Cricket, I wasn’t going to kill myself,” I told her, refraining from saying, ‘right now anyway.’ “I was about to throw that pistol into the river.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “To get rid of it,” I shrugged.

  “Why did you have a gun in the first place?”

  Another throb made me groan.

  “Sully, you’re bleeding,” Cricket declared. “Let’s get you back to the house. Grandma is a retired nurse.”  

  As we approached the house, Callie exited the front door carrying a travel mug. She stopped in her tracks, frowned and said, “Wow, and I thought Vi got rough with Sully.”

  “He was getting mouthy,” Cricket said with a shrug, making Callie laugh.

  I guess it should have comforted me that they weren’t all that concerned about my injury. But Callie’s face did turn serious as she asked, “What happened?”

  “He was throwing something into the river, but threw it into his head instead.”

“Is he alright?”

  “I think so,” Cricket replied. “But I want Grandma to see if he needs stitches.”

  “She’s not here,” Callie said. “Grandpa took Grandma out to breakfast for their lunarversary.”

  “What’s a lunarversary?” I asked.

  “Grandma and Grandpa were married on May fourth,” Cricket explained. “So Grandpa does something special like taking Grandma out to eat on the fourth of every month.”

  “Oh, nice,” I replied. “So how many?”

  “Grandma said this was their seven hundred and seventeenth,” Callie replied.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed.

  “It’s months, not years,” Violetta said as she walked up behind us.

  “Come on, Vi,” Callie said. “They are only three months away from sixty years of marriage. That’s something you’ll never experience.”

  “How do you know?” Violetta snapped.

  “You have to like guys first for one thing,” Callie shrugged.

  “What are you nodding about?” Violetta barked at me.

  Although the pain of my initial injury subsided, I winced to avoid the wrath of the redhead.

  “Violetta, take a look at Sully’s wound. Would you please?” Cricket asked.

  “What did you do?” Violetta sneered as if my injury was a result of idiocy. How did she know?

  Turns out Violetta was an EMT on the volunteer fire department. We moved into the house, and Violetta retrieved bandages and a plastic bottle of some type of antiseptic. She looked at my wound and then declared, “It’s not that bad. Sully’s just being a baby.”

  “Hey! What did I do to merit being called a baby? Do you see all this blood?”

  “The scalp has an extremely dense network of superficial blood vessels,” Violetta explained as if she were a professor. “They are anchored in tough connective tissue, preventing them from closing naturally when injured. That’s why a little cut on the head can bleed profusely.”

  “Regardless, I am not a wimp,” I said stoically.

  A malicious grin developed on Violetta’s face. “Good, then this shouldn’t bother you.”

  She dowsed my cut with rubbing alcohol and I bellowed. I’m sure my scream echoed through the valley. When the pain subsided, I admitted, “Okay, I’m a wimp.”

  The three ladies laughed, but it was Violetta I did a double take at. For the first time I thought her face looked pleasant, rather than hostile and bitter. I thanked Violetta, and she brushed it off as no big deal. Cricket pulled me aside and said, “Can I talk to you in private?”

  I felt a sense of apprehension. Now that my wound was doctored, it was full frontal on my mind that she wanted a broader explanation about my gun. I would simply tell her the truth. We went to the horse barn. The equine were happily munching their breakfast. I explained to Cricket what I was doing when she discovered me. “I promise you, I was not going to shoot myself.”

  Cricket studied me carefully. As she looked into my eyes, it was as if her gaze was siphoning  thoughts from my brain. It gave me an uneasy feeling. With a frown, I asked, “You don’t believe me?”

  Her demeanor became perky. “Oh I believe you, Sully. Sort of. It’s just, well, I had a dream about you. That’s actually why I came out here so early today. You may not have been intending to use that pistol against yourself when I saw you. But you have recently intended to use a pistol against yourself, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you are getting at,” I replied, feeling extremely vulnerable.

  “An angel of the Lord came to me in my dream. He said go to him who stands in front of a pale horse. Death and hades are following him. I’m ninety nine percent sure his message suggested that you have suicidal tendencies.”

  My mind reeled and spun. Was I in the Twilight Zone? “You were visited by an actual angel?”

  “Whether he was real or a figment of my mind, I don’t know. What I do believe is that the message of my dream was real, and that it was inspired by God. After all, I did find you in front of a pale horse.”

  I looked at Violetta’s light colored Palamino, contentedly munching on hay. I was agnostic at best, atheist at worst. But I had to admit, something supernatural was going on here. With a baffled expression, I looked back at Cricket. She said, “I believe God has a purpose and a plan for you. I was instructed to bring you the words of life.”

  “I see. And what are these words of life?”

  “Christ and Him crucified,” she declared, quoting 1 Corinthians 2:2.

  “What does that mean for me?”

  “Salvation.”

  “Cricket, I’m somewhere between atheist and agnostic. So how can God have a plan for me?”

  “I’m an atheist, too,” she replied happily.

  I folded my arms. “Up until now, you have struck me as one of the most honest people I have ever met. But you just spoke the biggest contradiction ever. You tell me about dreaming of angels, words of life, and Christ. Then in the next breath you say you’re an atheist. Explain that!”

  “Why don’t you tell me about the God you don’t believe in?” she said.

  So I did, with my main point being how did she justify a God of love burning people in hell for eternity for just not believing in him?

  “I don’t so that’s why I said I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in the God you just described either. I believe in the God of the Bible. And a thorough examination of the scriptures prove eternal torment is a false doctrine.”

(For a free, well done Bible study guide on this subject, you can go to Amazing Facts online and click on study guides and find the one entitled ‘Is the Devil In Charge of Hell?’)

  “Well, there arises another problem. I don’t believe the Bible. How can you trust a book two thousand years old?”

  “Because of the sure word of prophecy,” she said. “The prophecies about Jesus. The prophecies of a persecuting power that would be fulfilled during the dark ages, to name a couple. Look, I don’t have much time. I need to get to work. How about you and me have a Bible study?”

  “You want me to study something I just said I don’t believe in?”

  “That’s where we will begin. We will discuss why you can trust and rely on the Holy Bible.”

  I have to admit that I was intrigued by everything she said. From her dream to suggesting I could count on the Bible. I had met thousands and thousands of people in my line of work. But I had never met anyone quite like Cricket Karr before.

  She wasn’t exceptionally pretty. Not like her volatile sister anyway. But she had this brightness in her personality, a light that shone from her character. So I said, “Alright, when?”

  She said her mother was scheduled to run their flower shop the next day, so we agreed on tomorrow afternoon.

  I got something to eat and took a long nap. Later that afternoon, I went after the gun I had tossed into the weeds before somebody else found it. I found it and dug it out of the clump of weeds. I don’t know why, but before tossing it into the river, I sat on a bank and looked the gun over as I contemplated the conversation I had with Cricket.

  After several minutes, I stood and began to raise the gun to throw it into the water. Recalling my bonked head, I began to lower it into position to toss it like a frisbee. Suddenly two hands were on my lower arm that held the gun. My limb twisted in a painful position that had me both frozen in place and groaning in pain.             Then Violetta’s pretty face with an ugly expression was inches from mine. Her large blue-green eyes looked fierce. Her red-gold hair was pulled back tight and into a braid that fell over her left shoulder. She looked every bit the part of a female warrior. With clenched teeth, she said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

ANGELS AT WAR – PART 2 – CHAPTER 6

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 6

CRICKET KARR AND THE ROCK STAR

CRICKET

EVEN IN LAUGHTER THE HEART MAY SORROW, AND THE END OF MIRTH MAY BE GRIEF (Proverbs 14:13)

  “Oh, it’s you,” Violetta said to Sully as a less than friendly greeting.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Sully replied as he sat on an upside down bucket.

  “Is it?”

  “Not really.”

  “Get off that bucket. I need to feed the horses,” Violetta ordered.

  “Get a different one.”

  “I want that one.”

  “Too bad.”

  Well this wasn’t starting off too well. They began to have a standoff as they both gave each other stink eye. Correction, half of it was a sit off.  “You pompous jerk,” Violetta finally barked. “Why don’t you go back across the road? You’re Jeremey’s guest, not ours.”

  Sully had told me he wanted to get along with Violetta, since they were going to be paired up as bridesmaid and groomsman at our cousin’s wedding. But it sure didn’t seem like he was helping himself. I curled and uncurled my toes in my New Balance sneakers. I silently prayed, ‘Lord what do I do?’

  “I’m going fishing,” I said, thinking of the Apostle Peter’s words in John 21:3.

  “What?” Violetta and Sully said at the same time. Then Violetta added, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You’re supposed to say I’m going with you.”

  “When’s the last time you went fishing?” Violetta asked.

  I looked up at the rafters as I tried to recall. “Last summer with Grandpa.”

  “Is Mom running the flower shop today?”

  “No, but I got a few hours before we open.”

  “I need to feed the horses,” Violetta said as if it were an all-day endeavor rather than the approximately thirty minutes it actually took. “Now get off that bucket. It’s the one I like to use.”

  “I’m quite comfy,” Sully said with a little smirk. He seemed to be enjoying getting Violetta riled up, but I was cringing inwardly. He didn’t know one of Violetta’s biggest weaknesses was a quick temper, ESPECIALLY when in conflict with a macho man prone to cockiness.

  “I said get off!” My sister demanded and shoved his shoulder.

  “Make me,” Sully said, folding his arms.

  “Make you? What are we ten?” she replied fairly calm. This remark gave me momentary false hope.

  Sully stuck his tongue out at her, and she shoved him with two hands this time. “Get off!”

  “Children, it’s only a bucket,” I playfully scolded. “Violetta, I’m going to the tack room to get you another one.”

  “I want the one he’s sitting on. It has a mark, so I know how much grain to put in.”

  Sully laughed mockingly, causing her to really get her ire up. My mouth dropped in surprise when she tackled him. They rolled a couple times on the dirt floor. Now Violetta is a martial artist, specializing in Brazilian Jujitsu. In seconds she had him pinned. His eyes were wide as he said, “Wow, you’re strong.”

  “Yeah, well I wouldn’t test me any further.”

  Violetta’s eyes were like lazers boring into his as she sat on top of his belly. He held her gaze, but his eyebrows raised comically meek. He said, “This is weird, people typically adore me.”

  This was where I saw the icy hostility in Violetta begin to break just a little. I could see a smile try to curl upward from her pursed lips. I could also see by her clenched jaw and narrowed eyes that another part of her was resisting the merriment she was beginning to feel. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  The barn door opened and Cousin Callie came in. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped when she saw a fierce-looking Violetta sitting atop Sully with his hands and arms pinned behind his head. Callie attempted to come to Sully’s rescue. “Vi, what are you doing?”

  She hooked Violetta under the arm pits and pulled her off of Sully. Violetta demanded through clenched teeth, “Let me go!”

  The two best of friends, who were also cousins, now began to grapple. Callie too had been a martial arts student. I tried to stop them. “Children, children!”

  The door opened and Callie’s older sister Cecielia entered. When she saw her sister and cousin rolling on the dirt floor and me looking like I was doing a funky dance around them, she became my tag team partner. C. C. was a year older than me and five years older than Violetta and Callie. Although a laid back hippie-like art teacher, she was also the oldest of the Karr cousins and grew up being our boss at family gatherings.

  C. C. clapped her hands a couple times, and horse bodies came to attention along with my sister and her sister. When she ordered the two women to stop, they obeyed immediately. After sorting out the situation, she gave another order. “Vi, tell Sully you’re sorry.”

  Like a five year-old being scolded for taking a toy from someone, Violetta looked at her feet and said, “Sorry.”

  “Sorry for what and to who, Vi?” C. C. said, not satisfied with Violetta’s apology.

  “Sorry for tackling you,” she said, then looked at him and said his name rather snarky, “Sully.”

  “You should be,” Sully replied with mock indignation. “But I’ll take the high road and forgive you.”

  “Mr. Sage,” Cecelia now addressed Sully. A smile played at her lips. Although she had a bossy side, and I’m sure she kept her high school students in line, she was also fun loving and detected that the skirmish just broken up was likely not all that serious.

  “Ma’am?” Sully responded.

  “You should apologize to Violetta as well,” Cecelia suggested. “It sounds like you were provoking her.”

  “Sorry.”

  Cecelia sighed and said, “For what and to who?”

  “Sorry for provoking you, Violetta.”

  “Now you two shake,” Cecelia ordered.

  Violetta actually offered her hand first. But Sully smiled warmly and opened his arms. “We can even do better than that. How about a hug?”

  Violetta’s eyes narrowed and she took a step back. Cecelia suggested, “That’s a nice gesture, Vi. Now give the fella a hug.”

  My lips parted in surprise as I watched Violetta step into Sully’s embrace. Although Violetta had a general dislike, bordering on hatred for a certain type of male, she had in fact dated a few guys. However, just to be clear, they were guys that were not her type. But I had never seen her participate in something resembling physical affection, as in a hug with a man she was not related to.

  I felt a twinge of something as I watched their arms go around each other. I don’t think it was jealousy. But Sully was a great looking guy. He reminded me of a feral version of Ashton Kutcher. He also had a charm and cool about him that had probably developed over countless performances as a musician.

  When I observed the two step toward each other, I thought it would be a two second pat-pat on the back. But again to my surprise, Violetta’s arms looped around his neck. Sully’s hands clasped around the small of her back. They did make a gorgeous couple.

  Believe it or not, I was never jealous that Violetta was prettier than me. I was actually pleased that I had the same parents as someone so lovely. Besides, it’s hard to resent a person who you know would not only give you the shirt off her back, but lay down her life for yours.

  The harmonious feelings between the previously bickering pair wouldn’t last. An eruption was on the horizon of peacefulness. Sully, a few inches taller than Violetta, bent his head and kissed her cheek. She pushed away from him. “What’d ya think you’re doing?”

  “Making peace,” he said with a smirk.

  I think it was the smirk that motivated Violetta with her next spontaneous move. Behind the grin was, dare I say it, a demeanor of cockiness. With both hands she shove him hard in the chest as she bellowed, “Creep!”

  Sully stumbled backwards and tripped over the bucket he had been sitting on. He fell hard on his rearend. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but I think I felt the reverberation. Even Violetta’s lovely large blue green eyes widened, and a hand went to her mouth.

  “Violetta!” Cecelia scolded. “Help him up.”

  Violetta offered her hand and Sully took it. But instead of allowing her to assist him, he yanked her down and she landed on top of him. Laughing gleefully, and beginning to roll her backside to the floor, he declared, “Who pins who now?”

  Sully was over six feet tall and probably approaching two hundred pounds. He appeared surprisingly fit for someone who seemed to be a self-indulgent rock star. Violetta was five foot nine and maybe one forty soaking wet. But she was strong and knew self-defense. She rolled along with Sully rather than resist him, then rolled halfway around again and she pinned him again. But this time she began to twist one of his wrists in an unnatural position. His vocal emission went something like this, “Ow, ow, ow!”

  I squinted my eyes to make sure I was seeing correctly. Violetta was smiling, then giggling. But Callie grabbed her left arm, Cecelia grabbed her right arm and hoisted her off poor Sully. When the dust settled and was brushed off as well as possible, Cecelia tried making peace once again. This time she held a fly swatter and waved it back and forth. “You two shake hands and only shake hands. Any deviation will garner a slap with this bug terminator. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sully said. Violetta nodded.

  As they shook, Sully said in a very debonair manner, “I do apologize for provoking you, Miss Karr.”

  “And I apologize for getting a little violent.”

  Sully chuckled. “If that was a little, I better not ever provoke you to a lot. Cricket called you a pistol, but I’d say you’re more like an assault rifle.”

  Violetta frowned so I piped up. “I believe that was a compliment, Vi.”

  “It was,” Sully confirmed. But then sort of disqualified his statement saying, “For the most part.”

  The four of us Karr women all pitched in and had the half dozen horses fed and watered in under ten minutes or so. When we finished, I didn’t see Sully in the barn. He wasn’t outside either.

  Querida, via visiting me in my dream, had instructed me to share God’s love with Sully. But I had barely got started when Violetta, and then the other two Karr sisters, interrupted us. I was about to begin a search for Sully when my sister grabbed my arm. In a low, secretive tone she said, “Cricket, come here.”

  “What for? I need to find Sully.”

  She frowned. “What for?”

  I shrugged. “I want to talk to him about God.”

  “Him? God?”

  “Yes, so please be quick. What do you want?”

  “Come over here,” she instructed, leading me over by the corner of the horse barn. “Come close. Now sniff.”

  She began to flap her arms like she was doing the chicken dance. “Vi, what are you doing?”

  “Sniff,” she ordered. “Do I stink?”

  Reluctantly I did as requested. “Not really.”

  “Not really? That’s not a NO.”

  “Well, you don’t smell good. You went for a run, and then tried to beat up Sully in a horse barn. You’re all sweaty. Do you expect to smell like you just stepped out of the shower?”

  “I didn’t try to beat him up. We just had a playful skirmish. Now how bad do I stink?”

  My brain momentarily got stuck on the word playful before the word skirmish. Why playful skirmish instead of just stand alone skirmish? Why was she concerned with body odor?

  “Cricket, how bad?” She inquired impatiently.

  “You smell… Earthy.”

  “Earthy? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you went for a horse ride, then a run, and then rolled around on a dirt floor. Trust me, he was probably preoccupied with your skirmish. I don’t think he noticed any possible B.O.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “PROBABLY, you don’t THINK, any POSSIBLE. You’re not giving me a definitive answer.”

  “Vi, what’s the big deal? You don’t like him anyway.”

  She bit her lip, nodded, then said, “Alright, thanks, I’ll talk to you later.”

  I grabbed her hand. “Vi, I was just inches from your fanning armpits, and I didn’t think, ewe gross, that reeks… It was just earthy.”

  She smiled and gave my hand an affectionate squeeze. “Thanks.”

  She turned to catch up to the other Karr sisters. They were working on another barn, preparing it to host Callie and Jeremey’s wedding. I looked around for Sully, and noticed Grandma was still on the porch. “Grandma, did you see where Sully went?”

  She frowned. “Who?”

  “The strange young man.”

  “Oh him. First he went over to Jeremey’s for a couple of minutes, then he went that way, toward the river.”

  The family farm was bordered on the east side by a river. There was a low maintenance road between a corn field and some woods that led to the water. It was about a half a mile or so mile from the house. I pursued.

  I saw Sully standing on a bank of the river with his back to me. I stopped and gave pause with what I noticed in his hand. It was a gun! I began to step toward him again and prepared to call out. Then he began to lift the gun up toward his head!

  “Sully, NO!” I bellowed as adrenaline surged through me.

ANGELS AT WAR – PART 2 – CHAPTER 5

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CRICKET KARR AND THE ROCK STAR

CHAPTER 5

CRICKET

AND IT SHALL COME TO PAST IN THE LAST DAYS, SAYS GOD. THAT I WILL POUR OUT MY SPIRIT ON ALL FLESH; YOUR SONS AND DAUGHTERS SHALL PROPHESY, YOUR YOUNG MEN SHALL SEE VISIONS, AND YOUR OLD MEN SHALL DREAM DREAMS (Acts 2:17)

            Querida came to me in dreams. When he did such, it was in an angelic form, albeit mostly veiled, and he called himself only Querida. It was his voice that was distinctive. Clear and melodious, comforting, strong, and soothing, like a rippling brook.

            The couple times I think I met him in person, it was the voice that made me wonder, is this Querida? When I encountered him in my dreams, he always announced himself. Every time I was instructed to minister to someone in need. Every time the situation turned out to be real. Every time he gave me scripture to look up. The day after Sully Sage arrived in a Lear jet was no exception.

            That night Querida came to me in a dream. It was as if he were standing in front of my open bedroom window. A breeze was blowing the curtains and obscuring the white glow of his form. He said, “Behold, he stands with a pale horse and death and hades follow him. Go, give him the words of life.”

            “Who stands with a pale horse?” I asked. “Do you mean Ivory Bell?”

            Ivory Bell was Violetta’s beloved light colored Palomino mare.

            “He who metaphorically used to ride a white horse wearing a crown, conquering and to conquer, now stands with a pale horse, contemplating death.”

            “Don’t you mean sits on a pale horse?”

            “Like I said, I’m metaphorically speaking, just borrowing from Revelation chapter six,” he replied, specifically using parts of verses two and eight.

            “What does this mean?”

            “Go to Sully Sage.”

            “Where?”

            “Your aunt and uncle’s farm.”

            “When?”

            “Now.”

            His word NOW was like a snap of the finger. I sat bolt upright in my bed; my nightgown slightly damp with sweat. My window appeared the opposite of my dream. Whereas my dream had it open and the curtains blowing, reality had it closed and the curtains drawn. Dawn’s sunlight streamed between the sides of the curtains.

            I looked at my clock, and it read five minutes before six. I dressed, ate a quick breakfast and headed to my cousin Callie’s family farm. Jeremey, Callie’s fiancée, lived on an acreage right across the road. That’s how the two met. Friendly neighborly banter quickly turned into a special chemistry leading to romance.

            My Auntie Emma and Uncle Walt’s farm had been my grandparent’s homestead at one time. As a matter of fact, Grandma still lived with them. So I was very familiar and welcome there. Grandma was sitting on a bench swing on the front porch reading her Bible. Her eyes rose in surprise as I climbed the five steps in front of the renovated farmhouse. “What are you doing here so early, Dear?”

            I bent down and kissed her check. I refrained from saying that I was on a mission from God. Instead I told her, “I woke up early and felt compelled to see the horses.”

            “Oh dear,” Grandma frowned. Then with a conspiratorially low voice, she said, “That strange young man staying with Jeremey just asked if he could go into the horse barn. He told me he used to have horses. Why don’t you sit and, how do you youngsters put it? Hang out until he leaves.”

            I marveled that Sully was in the horse barn, even though I never doubted Querida’s messages in my night visions.

            “It’ll be okay, Grandma. I’ve met him, and I’ve already talked to him a little bit about God. I’m hoping to share some more.”

            Grandma was all about sharing her faith. “Well then by all means go. I’ll be praying for you, Dear.”

            “Thank you Grandma.”

            I don’t know why I behaved sneakily. But I slowly opened the horse barn’s door and winced when it squeaked a little. But in the early quiet morning, a little was a lot. Just as Querida had said, Sully stood in front of a pale horse, Violetta’s beautiful light colored palomino Ivory Bell.

            With the noise of the door, Sully turned to look at me. I was surprised to see tears running down his cheeks. The thing that took me off guard was his being alone, gently stroking the nose the horse in front of him, and weeping.

            Violetta had shown me a video of Sully singing one of his songs live. It was a heart wrenching rendition of dark and depressed lyrics with loss, but ending with a tiny glimmer of hope. His voice was deep, powerful, but anguished. Yet his face was stone cold, his eyes were dry.

            I had a lump in my throat as I listened and watched the video. My eyes were welling. When I glanced at my sister, her eyes glistened. But she chewed her lip, fighting back any more moisture coming to her windows to the soul. So I was amazed that Sully could sing so emotionally, yet appear emotionless.

            I opened my mouth to speak. What words were to come out I don’t know because Sully spoke first as the sleeve of his t-shirt assisted with eliminating the fluid from his cheeks. “Man, my allergies! Lots of hay and dust in here.”

            “Yes, high pollen count right now, too,” I added, feeling compelled to help him save face with his embarrassment. My own allergies were in fact affected by the pollen.

            “Yeah, boy,” he said, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

            “Yes indeed,” I said, and feeling awkward, I mimicked his gesture of hands in back pockets by jamming my hands into mine as well.

            “Beautiful sunrise,” I said after several seconds of uncomfortable silence.

            “I suppose so.”

            “Out for a morning stroll?”

            “Something like that,” he said. Then he looked at Ivory Bell, then back at me, and then back at the palomino. “I saw a woman riding her this morning out of my bedroom window. The sight of it reminded me of… something.”

            “What kind of something?”

            He looked at me with a concerned expression, as if he was wondering if he could trust me with a secret. He attempted to change the subject. “So, Callie lives here with her parents?”

            “For the time being. Jeremey proposed not long after she graduated from college. So she figured she might as well keep living here until they tie the knot and move in together.”

            “That nice old lady on the porch, surely that’s not her mother?”

            I found it interesting he called her a nice old lady, and Grandma referred to him as a strange young man. Although she did so not mean spiritedly. “Her grandmother. Mine too. She lives with my Aunt and Uncle as well, which would obviously be Callie’s parents.”

            “I see. Do you know who was riding this horse?”

            “It had to be Violetta,” I told him. “That’s her side by side parked outside the barn since she only lives about two miles from here. And Ivory Bell is her horse.”

            “Oh,” he replied, pulling his hand off her horse’s nose as if it were hot.

            I giggled. “She’s not gonna care if you pet her horse.”

            He shrugged nonchalantly. “She clearly doesn’t like me, so I don’t want to take my chances.”

            “Trust me, she doesn’t dislike you.”

            “Could have fooled me.”

            “You just have to understand her.”

            “Okay, so help me understand her. Jeremey tells me she and I are gonna be paired up.”

            “Paired up?” I frowned. “Paired up how?”

            “You know, in Jeremey and Callie’s wedding the week after this. I’m a groomsman and she’s a bridesmaid. We’ve been paired with each other to walk her down the aisle together. You know, her hand on my arm and what not. So it would be kind of nice if she didn’t look at me like she wanted to vomit.”

            I didn’t really know what to make of all that. Was it significant? Anyway, Querida came to me in a dream instructing me to give him words of life. But I felt the need to understand his tears. I didn’t buy allergies. I also wanted to know what was behind SOMETHING. Sometimes to get people to open up, you need to share something of yourself.

            “Violetta and I lost our brother a few years ago,” I told him. “She’s been pretty bitter ever since.”

            “Jeremey mentioned something about Callie having a cousin who died,” Sully acknowledged. “I’m sorry. How did he pass away?”

            “It’s complicated, but it was ruled a suicide. Personally, I suspect an accident, but Violetta believes it was murder.”

            “Who does she think murdered him?”

            “I’m not gonna say who she suspects, because that’s all it is, her suspicion.”

            “Could she be correct?”

            “Yes, it is possible, but not likely. Like I said, I believe it was an accident. Or maybe negligence would be a better description. He was quite intoxicated.”

            “Can I ask how he died?”

            “A running car in a closed garage.”

            “I see.”

            “Our brother was bullied because some people, mostly popular jocks, thought he was gay.”

            “Was he?”

            “I don’t know, he never talked to me about it. But there was an incident that got him labeled as such. But when he talked to me about that, he said it was something that never happened, It only looked like something happened.”

            He opened his mouth to ask me about the something with my brother. But I asked him about his something with Ivory Bell first. I was quicker at the verbal exchange. “Can you tell me about the SOMETHING when you saw a woman on Ivory Bell?”

            He shrugged, yet eyed me a little cautiously. “My wife… I mean my former wife… Actually, you see, I was married; but Poppy, my wife was killed in a car wreck a couple years ago.”

            “Yes, I was aware of that. I’m so sorry.”

            He nodded. “She always wanted a pony or a horse as a girl. When I, ya know, made the big time so to speak, I bought her a couple. They both looked similar to Ivory Bell here. When I saw the woman wearing a running outfit riding out there, it felt strange.”

            “I’m sure it was Violetta,” I said.

            He nodded, but his expression showed distaste. I perceived it had to do with Violetta reminding him of his wife. It seemed the resentment, animosity, or whatever it was between them, was mutual.

            “For some reason Poppy liked to wear running attire when she rode, even though I bought her actual horse riding outfits. Then when I saw, you know… Violetta…”

            “Violetta frequently likes to go for a run right after a horseback ride.”

            “I see.”

            “Can I ask you something about a song of yours?”

            He arched an eyebrow. “You listen to my music?”

            “No, not usually,” I said. But before I could continue, he started laughing. “What?”

            “You are so genuine, Cricket. Have you ever told a lie?”

            I bit my lip and looked at the rafters. “I don’t recall a lie I’ve told off hand. But I don’t want to tell you I haven’t, only to have the Lord bring one to mind I need to confess.”

            “You fascinate me,” he said, then picked up a nearby bucket, turned it upside down and sat. “I figured you were a Christian right off the bat. Not just in name only either. My Poppy became a Christian a couple months before your Lord let her be violently killed. She supposedly gave her life to Him… So let me ask you something. Where was God when a drunk driver plowed into her car?”

            I felt his pain. So I didn’t try to hide a tear that leaked from my eye. “The same place He was when His Son sweat great drops of blood, was violently beaten, whipped, spit on, and nailed to a cross.”

            I could tell he was affected by my response. Which way or how much I didn’t know. But I would have to wait to find out as a familiar voice interrupted our dialogue.

            “Cricket, are you in there?” Violetta said as the walk in barn door opened. Violetta entered, wearing dark blue stretch pants with matching sports bra. A baseball cap was backwards on her head while her face and arms were slick with sweat as she returned from a run.

            “Good morning, Sister,” I greeted cheerily.

            “Morning,” she said with a little smile. “What are you doing out here so early?”

            No sooner had she said that when she spotted Sully sitting on the bucket. She stopped in her tracks, her smile evaporated and her eyes narrowed when she looked at his hand scratching Ivory Bell’s chest.

ANGELS AT WAR – PART 2 – CHAPTER 4

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CRICKET KARR AND THE ROCK STAR

CHAPTER 4

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

RECKLESS WORDS PIERCE LIKE A SWORD, BUT THE TONGUE OF THE WISE BRINGS HEALING (Proverbs 12:18)

            “Tricky triangles sure are helpful,” Vermillion told me with glee as he and I, along with Cricket and Violetta, watched Sully Sage exit a Lear jet. With his Prada Cashmere polo shirt and Brunello Cucinelli shoes, he could have passed for a successful businessman.

            But with his shaggy dark hair, faded ripped jeans, along with tattoos and sunglasses, not to mention a half smoked cancer stick hanging from his lips, he looked like the vain rock star that he tended to be.

            “They can be,” I replied and my former friend’s mirth diminished a little bit.

            “You know as well as I do that the odds are on my team’s side,” Vermillion added.

            I tried to have as little dialogue with my opponents as possible. Yet sometimes it was helpful to find out what they were thinking. Just as with fallen humanity, the tempters of souls, AKA demons, had the same self-centered tendencies. like being unable to withhold anger and vengeance, as well as bragging and gloating.

            “Percentages have been on your side,” I admitted. “But typically your tricky triangles, as you called them, don’t have somebody like Cricket as one of the three.”

            “Have you considered my servant, Job?” Vermillion mocked, quoting part of Job 1:8. Then he chuckled maliciously. “She doesn’t have to actively participate to cause ole Sully to be torn between the two sisters.”

            “Judging by Violetta’s facial expression, getting her to be drawn to Sully will be a tall order.”

            Vermillion laughed diabolically. “And you know as well as I do the contradictions within human nature. The very guys Violetta despises, she finds physically desirable. Sex is such a powerful, powerful weapon for my team!”

            “You are aware she’s never given in to those desires.”

            “Yet, my former friend,” Vermillion said and laughed sadistically. “Violetta has never been more enthralled with a guy than she is with Sully, yet they have never actually met. But she has become addicted to looking at the countless things about him on YouTube. Like many addicts, she hates herself for it. So I’m really, really anxious to see how she reacts meeting him in person. Will she be enthralled and unable to hide her adoration? Or will she be hostile toward  a guy she has never met stirring her emotions so intensely?”

            My adversary declared this just seconds before they did meet. Sully took a last drag on his cigarette and flicked it away. He hooked his Louis Vuitton sunglasses in the V of his polo shirt. As he strode toward his two hosts, he gave them both a quick study.

            One looked like she stepped out of an Amish country store in her long denim skirt and light brown hair in a bun. All that was missing was a bonnet. The other looked like a cowgirl. She was exquisitely beautiful, even in the plain attire of a baseball hat with a strawberry blonde ponytail threaded through the back. She wore a flannel shirt and jeans tucked into cowboy boots.

            He noticed a resemblance in the sisters, despite one being prettier than the other. He had seen thousands and thousands, maybe even a million pretty females, but there was something extra special about Violetta. Maybe it was the way she looked at him with contempt rather than adoration. That rarely happened. Yet he could tell his presence also unsettled her for some reason.

            He had noticed the cowgirl get out of the driver’s side of a huge pickup truck.  As he approached the duo he asked, “Is this your truck?”

            “No, I stole it,” Violetta replied.

            Sully eyed her calmly, but was a little taken aback by the snide comment. Violetta cooly held his gaze. Cricket quickly alleviated the tension. “I told you she was a pistol.”

            Sully looked at Cricket and a corner of his mouth curled into a grin. “You must be the sling shot.”

            “I suppose I am,” she replied as she extended a hand in greeting.

            Sully was pretty good at reading people. He marveled at what he detected was an extreme contradiction with Cricket. She seemed gentle but strong, meek yet confident. Even her handshake was firm, but not overbearing. Her hand itself was dainty, yet mildly calloused from labor. “I’m Sully Sage.”

            “Cricket Karr.”

            “That’s right,” he said and put his hands on his hips. “Please tell me how you got named after an insect.”

            “My legal name is Jimena, and…”

            “I get it,” he interrupted with delight. “Jimena Cricket, like the cartoon Jiminy Cricket.”

            “Very perceptive. My grandmother started calling me Cricket before I can even remember. I have frequently forgotten my real name myself.”

            “Interesting,” Sully responded, continuing to stare into Cricket’s eyes.

            His gaze began to make Cricket feel uncomfortable, so she turned his attention to the woman he seemed to be ignoring after her snotty comment. “As you’ve probably guessed, this is my sister, Violleta.”

            Sully offered his hand, and due to her western attire, he spoke like an old TV cowboy. “How do, Ma’am?”

            Sully was surprised at the limp handshake of this fiery woman, especially compared to her meek, not quite as pretty sister. “Very well.”

            “I bet you do.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Violetta said testily as she jerked her hand out of Sully’s gentle grip.

            Sully’s brow furrowed and he showed her an open palm. “Nothing, I’m reaffirming what you said. You know, agreeing with you.”

            “Sounded to me like you were getting fresh,” Violetta said.

            “My, aren’t we full of ourselves?”

            “You ought to know full of yourself. Come strutting off a private jet like a…”

            “People, people,” Cricket interrupted, attempting to diffuse a possibly hostile situation. “Why are we making a simple task complicated? Violetta, I have to admit, you’re being rude. What did you want Mr. Sage to do, crawl off the airplane?”

            “Was I strutting?” Sully asked Cricket with a frown.

            “A little bit,” Cricket winced as she pinched her thumb and index finger together indicating a small amount. “But let’s not make too much of it. I would venture to guess the vast majority of people with the means to fly on a private jet tend to swagger or feel proud.”

            “So I was swaggering with pride?” Sully asked.

            “Ya think,” Violetta piped.

            “Hold it,” Cricket demanded, putting a hand up like a traffic cop. “Now we just got off on the wrong foot. I want you two to shake hands again.”

            “Gimme a break,” Violetta said and sighed.

            “Violetta, play nice,” Cricket scolded, then attempted a little humor to create a little levity. “Or I’ll tell Mom.”

            Violetta snorted. “What, are we ten?”

            Cricket aimed a sweet smile at her sister. “Well, the behavior is seeming to fit. Why are you acting so immature?”

            “I do apologize if I’ve somehow offended you,” Sully told Violetta with surprising meekness as he offered his hand again. “Sincerely.”

            “I’m the one who should apologize,” Violetta admitted as she took his hand, shook it quicky and pulled hers away. “Cricket is right, I was being rude.”

            “There, don’t we all feel better,” Cricket said happily. “Now let’s get our human cargo delivered.”

            “Human cargo?” Sully smirked with an arched eyebrow.

            “No offense,” Cricket said sweetly.

            “None taken,” Sully chuckled. “I suppose that’s just what I am.”

            One of the personnel from the airplane brought a couple suitcases. Violetta directed him to put them in the bed of her pickup. As they began the twenty minute drive to Jeremey’s place, Sully asked, “I’m starved; I haven’t eaten today. Can I buy you two ladies dinner?”

            “Smells like you’ve had plenty to drink though,” Violetta said.

            Cricket’s toes curled. She thought she had smelled alcohol, but had been around people drinking adult beverages so infrequently she wasn’t sure. Violetta’s comment confirmed her suspicion. She wasn’t sure how to diffuse her sister’s snide comment this time, especially since he offered a kindness by inviting them to dine. So she merely accepted. “I’m kind of hungry. How about it, Vi?”

            “No thanks,” she replied cooly. “I’ve got things to do.”

            “That’s fine,” Sully said. “I’ll wait and have dinner with my cousin.”

            “But you said you were starved,” Cricket commented with concern.

            “No problem, I have something to help tide me over,” he declared and a tiny bottle of whiskey manifested in his hand. He screwed off the top and downed the brown liquid.

            “How dare you open a container of booze in my vehicle,” Violetta barked. “That’s illegal!”

            “No worries, ma’am, it’s empty.”

            Cricket’s toes uncurled and curled again. They rode in awkward silence all the way to Sully’s cousin’s home. When they arrived, Sully thanked the ladies. Cricket said, “You’re welcome.” But Violetta just snorted.

            Sully flashed three crisp one hundred dollar bills in front of Violetta. “For your trouble, ma’am.”

            “You know what? Since you opened booze in my truck without even asking, I’m gonna take them,” she told him and then snatched them out of his fingers.

            Sully chuckled. “You are a pistol.”

            “And you’re arrogant,” Violetta barked.

            Sully shrugged and Cricket noticed how sad and lonely his eyes looked, despite his bravado. She said, “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Sage.”

            “Please, call me Sully. It was nice to meet you too, Cricket,” he replied, then addressed Violetta. “Thanks for the lift, Miss Karr.”

            She didn’t reply. After he retrieved his luggage from the back, Violetta drove off. Despite her stern expression, and knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so tight, Cricket couldn’t help scolding. “Violetta, you were very rude to Sully right from the start. And for no good reason.”

            “Oh, I had good reason,” she said with surprising meekness, especially given her angry expression.

            “Would you care to enlighten me?”

            “No.”

            “Pretty please, little sister,” Cricket said with a sing song voice. “I sure would like to know why you put me in such an awkward position.”

            Violetta glanced at her with an exasperated expression. Then she looked at the road and chewed her lower lip for a couple seconds. “I’ve never been so drawn to a man in my life.”

            Cricket looked at her siter like she had two heads, maybe three. “You could have fooled me by your behavior toward him. He seems the epitome of the type of guy you don’t like.”

            “I know… And that scares me.”

ANGELS AT WAR – PART 2 – CHAPTER 2

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

PART 2

CRICKET KARR AND THE ROCK STAR

CHAPTER 2

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

WOE TO THE INHABITANTS OF THE EARTH AND THE SEA!  FOR THE DEVIL HAS COME DOWN TO YOU, HAVING GREAT WRATH, BECAUSE HE KNOWS THAT HE HAS A SHORT TIME. (Revelation 12:12)

            Throughout earth’s history, I didn’t take on the form of a person very often. But as the time of the end drew near, I appeared as a human being more frequently. Of all the assignments where I met my subject face to face, Cricket Karr is right up there with the most special. Not only because her devotion to the Savior was exceptional, but because she was the main focus of my last task before the end of time and the second advent of Jesus Christ.

            As with the brief account of Enoch in the book of Genesis chapter five, Cricket walked with God. However God did not take her as He did Enoch because He had a special work for her to do. Her culminating work had to do with Sully Sage. Without Cricket’s influence, Sully most likely wouldn’t have become the loudest voice during the loud cry of the three angels proclamations of Revelation chapter fourteen.

            My adversary, Vermillion, along with his team had all but destroyed Sully Sage. The biggest blow had come with the death of Poppy, Sully’s wife. Already under the control of chemical addiction, Sully had fallen deeper into self-destruction. Almost to the point of death. Then he met Cricket.

            Vermillion also sought to destroy Cricket. She often put herself in danger ministering to those in need. But her full confidence in and submission to God was rewarded. As she worked for God, we worked for her. I had to step in personally after a down and out prostitute who went by the name Bambi had visited Cricket’s church. With Cricket’s help, the young woman had begun to get her life turned around. But her demon possessed boyfriend tried to force her back to her own vomit. But guided by the Holy Spirit, she refused his demands.

            Fueled by demonic passion turned to rage, her boyfriend placed his hands around Bambi’s neck and squeezed. Although her earthly life was snuffed out, her soul was safe with Jesus (Matthew 10:28). The scoundrel couldn’t touch that soul which was submitted to God.

            But an evil tranquility came over the killer. He was sedated by an unholy arousal. His Satanic leaders had him calmly wait for his next prey. The potential victim of murder, and likely torture, was none other than Cricket. As she entered the dingily apartment, intent on Bible study and a conversation with Bambi, she softly sang, “What a friend we have in Jesus.”

            It was then that I was given permission to manifest in human form. As Cricket began to climb the steps in  the eight apartment building, I rolled down the steps toward her. Cricket shrieked in alarm. Whoever was home in their apartments were either too absorbed in their personal entertainment, or too inebriated to care about the noise. Arguments, shouts, and door slams were not uncommon in the building or neighborhood.

            “Your head is bleeding,” Cricket declared as she crouched by my side. She pulled a light pink hanky from her purse.

            “Oh, ma’am, don’t mess up your handkerchief,” I told her. “I’m alright.”

            “Are you kidding! Blood is running down your cheek and dripping off your chin! I need to get you to the emergency room!”

            She took my arm and led me to her car. Cricket looked a little frantic as she negotiated the roads to the hospital. I tried to reassure her. “Ma’am, I believe I’m okay. The bleeding has stopped. Just like it never happened.”

            “Well, I’ll be,” she said with surprise. “By the way, my name is Jimena. But people call me Cricket.”

            “You can call me Jack.”

            “Glad to know you, Jack. Ya know, you still should get checked out for a concussion or something.”

            “Trust me I’m fine. I’ve been through enough battles to know.”

            “Are you a veteran?”

            “In a manner of speaking.”

            “Thank you for your service.”

            I nodded. She pulled her car over and said, “I better call my friend and let her know why I’m late.”

            “Actually, we need to call the police. I believe your friend has been harmed.”

            “How do you know who my friend is?” Cricket frowned. “You and I just met.”

            “I’ve seen you go to Bambi’s place before.”

            “Oh,” her frown deepened. “Do you live in her building?”

            “No, but people I care about do.”

            I did indeed care about Bambi. Why my team wasn’t allowed to intervene I do not know. But I believe she will inherit eternal life and I trust God implicitly. God’s timing is perfect timing regardless of how it looks to fallen, flawed people. Like Job, a person’s attitude should be, ‘though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.’ (Job 13:15)

            I got Cricket to focus on calling the police. I convinced her to call a friend as well. I calmed her as much as possible when it was discovered that Bambi was dead and her boyfriend arrested. Thankfully it didn’t take long for Destiny Knight-Storm to arrive at the crime scene, with her large, muscular husband in toe. I slipped away as Cricket hugged the handsome couple from her church.

            Vermillion’s team was outraged, and I needed to get back to the spirit realm. In simple terms, I can see and protect better there. Although I have complete trust in my team, I like to have the full scope of what’s going on.

            I had two more encounters in human form with Cricket over the next couple of years. Once when she went to an old warehouse in a drug infested neighborhood looking for a runaway girl. And another time when she went to a seedy bar to reason with a former church member.

            It was shortly after our last in person encounter when I helped lay the ground work for Sully Sage to come to Iowa. When he  arrived he didn’t ask, ‘Is this heaven?’ Only to be told, ‘No, this is Iowa.’ But if you believe Jesus’s words that the kingdom of God is within (Luke 17:21). Then Sully did indeed find a piece of heaven in Iowa.

            Sully had spiritually and emotionally hit rock bottom. Like a modern day Solomon, he could write a contemporary version of Ecclesiastes chapter two. And as he sat at a table with a bottle of whiskey to his left and a pistol to his right, his thoughts summed up his life with verse eleven. ‘Indeed all was vanity and grasping for the wind. There was no profit under the sun.’

            Sully took a slug of booze, and picked up the revolver. For a third time he pointed the barrel at his temple. He gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes, squeezing a couple of tears out. Vermillion whispered lies into his mind. “Come on, just do it. Third time is a charm. No more sleepless nights. No more substances that give you both pleasure then pain. If you pull the trigger ‘you will not surely die’ (Genesis 3:4), you will be reunited with Poppy.”

            Will I? Sully wondered.

            I tried to speak to his mind as well. But he wasn’t acquainted enough with scripture. So trying to bring forth Bible truths like the last half of 1 Thessalonians chapter four was fruitless. So I ran interference instead. I impressed his cousin to call him.

            Sully’s ring tone was set as an old fashioned train whistle. As he squeezed the trigger to a millimeter away from death, his phone spoke to him. “Hoo, hoo.”

            Vermillion pleaded with him. “Ignore that. Come on, just a little more pressure!”

            But Sully froze. When the phone went ‘hoo, hoo’ a second time, it brought his mind to simple, pleasant things in life. That’s why he chose the whistle as a ring tone in the first place. He gently placed the pistol on his thigh and picked up his phone as it went ‘hoo, hoo’ for a third time. It was his cousin Jeremy. He hit answer and said, “Hey.”

            “Hey, what’s up?” Jeremy asked.

            “Not much,” Sully replied and then glanced at his right hand holding the pistol against his upper leg. He rolled his eyes at the absurdity of his answer.

            “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you,” Jeremy said eagerly. “My wedding is in two weeks. Are you gonna be able to make it? Or do I need to find another groomsman to take your place?”

            “Oh dude, I forgot about your wedding,” Sully said and then made to slap a hand to his forehead, but it held the pistol. The metal thunked against his skull. “Owe!”

            “What happened?” Jeremy asked.

            “Oh, I, um, stubbed my forehead.”

            “How do you stub your forehead?”

            “I mean, I bumped my head.”

            “How?”

            “Look, when do I need to be there?” Sully asked, hoping his cousin didn’t enquire further how he hit his head.

            “Did more dates get added to your tour? According to what you told me, it was supposed to end a couple of days ago.”

            “No, no, it is over.”

            “Okay, good.”

            “Look, how about I fly out tomorrow?”

            Jeremy paused. “You don’t need to come two weeks early, just two days.”

            “What, you don’t want me around?”

            “No, no, that’s not it. What are you gonna do in Iowa for two weeks?”

            “Well, you live there. What do you do?”

            “I have simpler tastes than you. Plus my job is here.” Then he laughed. “Unless you want to slip me a cool million.”

            “Do you need money? I’d be glad to help you out… Retire you.”

            “No, no, I’m joking.”

            “I’m not. I don’t have much family.”

            “Sully, no! I was kidding. I make a very decent living. I’m just not a jet setting rock star.”

            Sully snorted. Then he said, “I’m coming out tomorrow. I could use a nice quiet place to recoup from months on the road.”

            Unheard to human ears, Vermillion roared angrily, as did his leader. Getting rid of Sully Sage was a big deal to them. They wanted to devour him like a roaring lion. (1 Peter 5:8) Sully encountering Cricket Karr was dangerous to their cause. With this new development, they needed to play their cards right. Violetta Karr just might be needed in counteraction to her saintly sister.

            “Well, if you’re sure, I’m glad to have you. I’ve got plenty of room,” Jeremey invited.

            “No, I’m used to hotels.”

            “I guess you’re also used to people wanting pictures and autographs.”

            “You’re sure staying with you won’t be an imposition?”

            Jeremey laughed. “Not at all.”

            The next day Callie, Jeremey’s fiancée, called her own cousin, Violetta. “Vi, are you off work?”

            “Yeah, why?”

            “Are you busy?”

            “No.”

            “I was supposed to pick up Jeremey’s cousin at the airport, but something came up and I have to work late.”

            “Yeah, that’s no problem. What time does Lindsey’s plane get in?”

            “Lindsey’s not due until tomorrow,” Callie replied. Then she winced and bit her lip. She knew Violetta and Sully would be like mixing oil and water. Or more like Mentos and Diet Coke. “I need you to pick up Sully Sage.”

ANGELS AT WAR – CHAPTER 23

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 23

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

BE KIND TO ONE ANOTHER, TENDERHEARTED, FORGIVING ONE ANOTHER, EVEN AS GOD IN CHRIST FORGAVE YOU. (Ephesians 4:32)

            Vermillion approached me as I watched Jenny and Jimmy exchange a brief hug. “What are you up to?”

            “What do you mean?” I asked as I refrained from giggling. The merriment I felt wasn’t in any way trying to gloat over my adversary. I was pleased because the arrangement I assisted on  worked out better than I hoped.

            “I know you impressed Jimmy to go to that night club. Isn’t that against your principles?”

            “It wasn’t for the sake of self-indulgence. Jimmy hasn’t had an adult beverage in more than a quarter century. He simply went with some business associates to support their friend in his new band. He stayed for the first set and now he’s leaving.”

            “I don’t get it. You knew Jenny was going to be there with her latest fling.”

            “Jimmy wasn’t all that jealous. It’s been four years since Jenny moved out.”

            “I notice you qualified it with ‘all that.’

            “I know you had the green eyed monster give him a slap. But I followed up with feelings of fondness for her.”

            “Why?” Vermillion snorted sarcastically. “She’s become nothing but a whore, only she doesn’t get paid. Why she’s gotten down to her birthday suit with as many partners as Jimmy did as a swinging single playboy. Only she’s done it while legally married.”

            “That’s why I had her cross paths with Jimmy. Deep inside she wants the stability and peace she once had with him.”

            My opponent looked surprised, then irritated. “Do you really think this encounter is gonna initiate a reunion? You gotta be kidding. They only spoke for a couple minutes.”

            “It wasn’t the duration of the brief conversation, but the spirit.”

            “Bah,” Vermillion replied and then laughed spitefully. “Her date had his hand on the small of her back the entire time. Other than when the man she’s gonna go to bed with tonight shook her HUSBAND’s hand.”

            “She initiated the hug.”

            “Only because Jimmy brokered peace between Jenny and their son the other week. But you noticed that didn’t stop her from meeting a guy online.”

            “We’ll see,” I replied as we both watched Jimmy leave. Jenny watched the familiar gait of her husband until he disappeared through the door. She bit her lip as she noticed he had lost weight and was looking rather fit. She had a surge of remorse over ruining things between her and Jimmy.

            Jenny had been surprised when a familiar voice said, “Hey there, Grandma.”

            She looked to her right and into the beaming face of her husband. The twinkle in his eyes she remembered even from their high school days caused a grin to grow onto her own face. “Hey yourself, Grandpa.”

            Two weeks earlier their son Jason had called her to tell her that he and his wife were expecting their first child. It was the first time they had spoken since her infidelity had come to light. The birth of two children by their daughter had somewhat repaired the breach between them. However, Kelsey not once had asked her to babysit.

            “Thank you for Jason,” she said sweetly, and that’s when they shared a brief hug. “He told me you put him up to calling me.”

            “It’s nothing,” Jimmy shrugged.

            “No, it’s something, something pretty special,” she  replied. Then she glanced at her date. “Oh, Jim, this is Tim. Tim, this is my ex-husband, Jim.”

            “Nice to meet you, Jim,” Tim lied.

            Jimmy, not wanting to lie, repeated his wife’s paramour’s name as pleasantly as he could muster. “Tim.”

            The next day Jenny picked up her phone a half a dozen times as she thought of Jimmy. Then it came to her mind that Jimmy approached her last night, so she should make the first move now. She texted. ‘It was nice to see you last night. It’s been a while.’

            ‘Good to see you, too!’

            His exclamation point inspired her to shoot another text. ‘You look well.’

            ‘So do you.’

            She waited a few minutes, not wanting their dialogue to end. ‘Thanks for not refuting me calling you my ex-husband.’

            After she hit send, she scolded herself. What a stupid thing to say!

            ‘What’s to refute you are my ex?’ he replied.

            ‘Technically we’re still married.’

            ‘I haven’t shared a bed with you in almost a half-decade. I think that constitutes us as ex’s.’

            She typed, ‘Would you like to change that?’

            Her thumb hovered over send. Then she shook her head, deleted it and typed instead, ‘How come you never filed for divorce?’

            Instead of answering her question, he posed his own. ‘Jenny do you want to go have lunch? Call me old fashioned but I prefer a face to face conversation.’

            ‘Sure I’d like that!’

            After they agreed on a time and place, Jenny hurriedly shoved her sexy skirts and dresses aside in her closet, digging out an old denim skirt that fell just below her knees. She put on a conservative long sleeve black blouse with lace trim, black tights with black boots that reminisced the 1800’s. She applied subtle makeup and secured her shoulder length hair with blonde highlights with a hair clip.

            A half hour later Jimmy’s breath caught when he saw Jenny get out of her car in the Olive Garden parking lot. She looked like the woman who accompanied him to church hundreds of times during the first two decades of their marriage. It was a far cry from the hot to trot attire she wore on her date the previous night of leggings that were painted on and enough make up to decorate a clown.

            Rather than going in right away, they stood by Jenny’s car and talked. Jimmy asked with a sly smile. “I hope your boyfriend doesn’t mind you having dinner with your ex.”

            She snorted. “He’s hardly my boyfriend.”

            “How long have you been seeing each other?”

            “Just since last night, but never again.”

            Jimmy couldn’t help feeling pleased that her date didn’t go well. “Where did you meet?”

            Jenny felt her face flush. “On a dating sight.”

            “So what went wrong?”

            “Let’s just say we had a chemistry problem,” she replied quickly and then sought to change the subject. “So Jimmy, you didn’t answer my text when I asked why you haven’t divorced me.”

            He shrugged. “Why haven’t you filed for divorce?”

            She shrugged. “To be honest, I figured the longer we stayed married, the more money I’d get when you did file. You’re rather astute at business… Now your turn. Why haven’t you divorced me?”

            “I always hoped you would repent and return to me.”

            Jenny was stunned as she stared wide eyed at him “You would have taken me back after all I have done?”

            “Yes.”

            “Why?”

            “I love you.”

            “You love the woman that betrayed you and made a spectacle of herself on the internet?”

            “I love the woman, not the behavior.”

            “But how?”

            “You’re the mother of my children, the grandmother of my grandchildren. We had a good life, a happy marriage before you went astray.”

            “I don’t even know how it happened,” she said and then laughed without humor. “I asked myself a hundred times, how did I get in this cycle? Now I’m, I don’t know, stuck. I’ve tried reading my Bible, but I only end up feeling lost and ashamed and end up putting it back on the shelf.”

            “He that began a good work will in you will complete it until that day of Jesus Christ,” Jimmy told her, quoting Philippians 1:6.

            “Then why do I feel so empty?”

            “I suppose you haven’t fully repented and surrendered yourself to Christ.”

            “I’ve tried,” she said and then frowned. “Well, sort of.”

            Jimmy smiled kindly and gently said, “Sort of isn’t a full commitment. Jesus said take up your cross and follow Me.”

            “Yeah,” she said with a sad smile and looked at her husband with longing. “I wish I could go back and stop myself before I got started down this road of rebellion.”

            Jimmy took hold of his wife’s hand. “You might not be able to go back and change the beginning. But you can start where you are and change the ending.”

            Jenny put her hands in her face and wept. Jimmy began to do circles on her back. As the tears began to subside, she went into his arms and quietly asked, “Can I change the ending with you?”

            “Absolutely.”

            “So you forgive me?”

            “One hundred percent.”

            “So if you forgive me, does God?”

            “One hundred percent. God tells you so in 1 John 2:1. If anyone sins we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.”

            By the grace of God, Jenny indeed changed her ending. She repented, was rebaptized, and she and Jimmy renewed their wedding vows. She also retained the good graces of her children. Thus making for one of her and Jimmy’s favorite activities going forward as grandparenting together.

(Writer’s note: Dear Reader, I am posting early because I will be unable to write this weekend as well as the following week. The Lord willing, my next post will be Sunday evening August 22 with something fresh. I’m still deciding on three different stories, most likely with Querida once again. Thank you for your interest! May God Bless!)

ANGELS AT WAR – CHAPTER 19

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 19

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

“I SAY TO YOU THAT WHOEVER LOOKS AT A WOMAN TO LUST FOR HER HAS ALREADY COMMITED ADULTERY WITH HER IN HIS HEART.” (Matthew 5:28)

            “You’re too late, my former friend,” Vermillion gloated.

            “Am I?”

            “You are indeed,” he taunted. “The covenant is broken, the indiscreet affair consummated, adultery completed. Never to be undone.”

            “No, they can’t undo it. But it can be forgiven.”

            “Oh wait, I spoke amiss. I suspect that the affair is just beginning not completed. Oh, I know they both tell themselves, ‘just this once.’ But human hormones are a powerful drug, especially when locked into illicit thoughts. You should have been here to stop it, Querida.”

            “You know better than that. We can impress, we can protect, but we can’t get in the way of freewill.”

            He chortled. “Ah freewill, tiz a wonderful thing when coupled with a sinful nature.”

            “It’s a beautiful thing when submitted to God in love.”

            He snorted. “You say trust and obey, I say lust and give way. To the carnal instinct that is. Look how much fun they just had! That was the biggest thrill in years for both of them!”

            “Well, the biggest thrill in years is gone now. They are experiencing guilt and shame on a level like never before.”

            “That’s your side’s fault. We provide the party; you guys are the poopers.”

            “We provide peace and contentment when following God. The law of the Lord is perfect converting the soul. Through the conscience, humans have an instinct leading to a higher purpose.”

            “It’s funny how that works, Querida. When that instinct is ignored, and a person gives themselves over to the forbidden, their doom is sealed.”

            “Not so, they…”

            “What do you mean not so?” Vermillion interrupted. “What about the mark of the beast or the seal of God? When a person gives themselves over to us, we have a seal as well.”

            “As long as they have breath, they have time to repent.”

            “Bah!” Vermillion barked, then laughed maliciously. “You just wait. They’ll rinse and repeat. Speaking of rinsing, look at the extra friendly neighbors now. They are both in their own showers trying to scrub their sin away before their spouses arrive home. Is that how one repents? With soap and water?”

            “It’s a start. They both are aware they have sinned.”

            “They’ll be back at it when the hormones rebuild. Then they will be aware that they tapped into something magical. Illicit brings excitement. Right now they are more worried that they might get caught than sorry that they sinned.”

            “Look at her tears. That’s not worry of being caught, that’s sorrow over betraying a sacred trust.”

            “It’ll pass. Then the recollection of his touch and the sensual sensations she felt will overrule her conscience. The first encounter is in the books after months, yeah years, of resisting. The next encounter will come much, much easier.”

            “We’ll see. There’s a reason for guilt. If she confesses, God will forgive.”

            “What about her husband? Shouldn’t she confess to him as well? Will he be harmonious with his next-door neighbor given such a revelation? Smile and wave as they both mow their lawns? No, Querida, my bet is she will figure what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And that reluctance will ultimately make the second encounter much easier. Then a third and a fourth and a fifth, etc, etc. Despite their aggressive cleaning now, it was quite the start a half hour ago.”

            “You know as well as I do that it started with that first look of lust.”

            “Ah, like I said, lust and obey the carnal instinct. Sometimes it just takes time and patience. But a lot of resisted longing makes the coupling all the more intense when it finally happens. Were you here the first time the new neighbors, now lovers, met four years ago? I don’t believe you were, so let me fill you in.”

            “I was made aware,” I cut in.

            The older, established neighbors brought a welcoming gift to the new neighbors sixteen years their junior. The fresh names on the mailbox declared them to be Justin and Jill Phillips. The new neighbors invited their brand new friends in for a beverage. They accepted but said only for a few minutes because they had a golf engagement with some friends.

            As the older female neighbor sat next to her husband on a love seat, that’s when the first looks and thoughts in the secret recesses of the eventual lover’s minds began. Her short golf skirt revealed a lot of shapely leg, and as the younger man approached with a glass of lemonade, his mind told him, ‘She’s got to be forty plus, but she’s in better shape than your wife.’

            The older woman admired the lean, toned runner’s build of the younger man. His stomach was flat behind his gray tucked in polo shirt. She glanced at what looked like a small pillow behind her husband’s green polo shirt.

            The younger couple’s five and three year old sons were tearing around the living room. This motivated the older couple to down their lemonades more quickly than necessary. Then they looked at their watches and excused themselves.

            Although the two neighbors exchanged several waves in the following weeks, it would be a couple months before they actually spoke again. It was on a hot summer day when the older female returned from a run. The younger male had been operating an edger on the sidewalk as she approached. He stopped his work and stepped aside so she could pass. He smiled warmly and said hello.

            Instead of running past, she stopped. Huffing slightly and sweating profusely, she said, “How are things in the new digs?”

            “Great,” Justin replied.

            When she glanced down at her watch, apparently checking her running time, he glanced down as well. He took in her black spandex shorts with matching sports bra that seemed to be painted on. His mind told him, ‘Man, she’s smoking hot, and not just from the run. Yet she’s probably not much younger than my mom.’

            His eyes averted back to her face before her eyes averted back to his. He asked, “Do you run quite a bit?”

            “I do,” she admitted. “It’s become quite an addiction.”

            “I like to run, but between work and the family, it’s hard to find time.”

            “Well, if you ever want to join me, I run almost every day at around this time. Sometimes it makes it easier to get motivated if you have a running partner.”

            “Yeah, I should do just that,” Justin replied nodding. “You sure you wouldn’t mind company?”

            “Not at all, I’d love to have you join me,” A little sultry added to her smile. Her subconscious nagged her mind a little bit after her reply. There was a chemistry between them that she couldn’t put her finger on that Vermillion’s team was pushing. Our side motivated distance.

            “My husband used to run with me, but he has knee problems now.”

            Vermillion inspired Justin’s first bold flirtation, that was encouraged by her sexy smile. “Are you sure your husband won’t mind me getting sweating with his gorgeous wife?”

            She smiled warmly, liking the compliment. Then our side caused caution to enter her mind. Her smile faded and she said, “Considering I’m old enough to be your mother, he won’t mind at all.”

            “There’s no way you’re as old as my mother.”

            She couldn’t help grinning again. She liked the younger man. He had a friendly charm that was appealing, and he was so good looking. Tall dark and handsome was what came to mind to describe him. But she felt ancient in his presence and was sure his mother had him late in life. “Well, let’s see, how old was she when you were born?”

            “Seventeen.”

            Her smile faded again. His mother was only a year older than she was. Yet he had said there was no way she was as old as his mother. That was good, right? But then dawning recognition set in. The younger man had reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t put her finger on it until now. That dark wavy hair and the shape of his blue eyes. She remembered a girl a grade ahead of her who had gotten pregnant the summer between her junior and senior year. “Is your mother’s name Becky Russo?”

            A look of astonishment came over his face. “Well it was. It’s Becky Adler now, but how did you know? Were you high school classmates?”

            “Well, she was a grade ahead of me. I didn’t really know her, I just knew of her.”

            He smiled coyly. “You knew of her because she was a pregnant high schooler.”

            She shrugged and nodded. “Pregnant with you no less, my new neighbor.”

            Then a week later, the younger couple discovered they were expecting again themselves.

            “Like I said, patience, the long game,” Vermillion had told me on numerous occasions throughout our association as opponents.

            I hate to admit it, but he was right. Finding out that Justin’s mother was almost her same age quelled her flirtations with Justin for the time being. His wife being with child again postponed his own feelings of amour.

            Then things shifted over time. Justin’s wife was at one time a cheerleader to his quarterback, and homecoming queen to his king. After two kids she struggled to get into a semblance of shape. After the third child, who they would refer to as an ‘opps,’ she didn’t even try. Yet his frequent jogging partner next door became more sleek and lithe by running religiously.

            Then things shifted again. Not long after the older woman turned fifty, she won first place in her age category in a 5K. The next day Justin called the older neighbor to see if she wanted to go for a run. He went next door, taking his phone with him. “I never got a picture of you wearing your medal.”

            “Oh, it’s no big deal,” she replied modestly. She had only been running in 5K’s for two years with the first one at the younger neighbor’s instigation. “I never won first place in the forties category. Since my birthday was only two months ago, I was probably the youngest in the fifties bracket.”

            “Nonetheless you won first place and I want a picture.”

            She struggled to clasp the medal around her neck, so Justin offered to help her. Then a miscommunication opened the door for their not so secret desires for each other to come to fruition. Although they had always behaved physically, never even exchanging a hug, they often teased each other. This teasing evolved into flirting.

            The older woman handed the medal over to Justin. She had a stiff neck, and when she pulled her ponytail aside to make way for him to clasp the medal, she tilted her head to the left to stretch the tight muscles. The younger neighbor mistook this as an invitation to place his lips on the soft skin just below her jaw.

            She froze with my side telling her mind to tell her mouth to stop this right now and obey the Spirit. But Vermillion’s side kept her locked in indecision. They kept her tantalized with intense carnal sensations. The long standing attraction to each other that they both allowed their minds to indulge in fantasy was now rearing its ugly head in reality. My side sent a hard jab at her conscience. She pushed away from her younger neighbor and said, “We better stop.”

            But her shaky giggle, along with her hands still on his chest communicated something other than her words. Then she allowed herself to waver. “Don’t you think?”

            Justin countered her suggestion. “I saw your husband leave with golf clubs twenty minutes ago. My boys won’t be back from Cub Scouts, and my wife and daughter from play group until seven. Just like you, it crossed my mind that this was our chance.”

            “What do you mean ‘just like me?’”

            He smiled coyly. “You know, offering your neck like that. I got the hint and went with it. Don’t change your mind now.”

            “But I…,” she said as my side tried reasoning with her.

            But Vermillion overwhelmed her with carnal desire. All of her impure thoughts about her younger neighbor came to a boil. But an hour later her shower lasted twice as long with twice the amount of soap than if she would have actually went for a run in the July heat. Her hands trembled off and on as she prepared supper afterward with her mind reeling with anxious, guilty thoughts.

            She kissed her husband when he came home and they hugged. He frowned when they separated. “Why are you shaking?”

            “Oh, am I?” she stammered, then lied. “I don’t know, I guess I over did it this afternoon running so soon after the 5K.”

            “Did Justin go with you?”

            “No,” she blurted. “I mean yeah.”

            “No, yeah,” he laughed. “What kind of answer is that? Either he went or he didn’t.”

            “Well, he wasn’t gonna, but then he changed his mind.”

            She could feel her heart pounding, and it reminded her of the Edgar Allan Poe story, ‘The Tell Tale Heart.’ It was a tale of man who killed an old man and hid him under floorboards. Then his guilty conscience kept hearing the old man’s heart beating louder and louder, even though he was dead. But she didn’t kill anybody. Maybe just her marriage.

            Her husband leaned in toward her, sniffed and frowned. “What’s that smell?”

            Her heart beat still faster! Lies, betrayal, adultery! Just confess right now! Her husband was a reasonable man. They had been married for more than a quarter of a century, and until today she had never so much as kissed another man. She made a mistake; her husband would forgive her. Wouldn’t he? They had built a life together, a good life. She just needed to get serious about God again.

            Okay, she might as well own up to it since he clearly suspected. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

ANGELS AT WAR – CHAPTER 2

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 2

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

THE ANGEL SAID TO THE WOMEN, “DO NOT BE AFRAID, FOR I KNOW THAT YOU SEEK JESUS WHO WAS CRUCIFIED. HE IS NOT HERE, FOR HE IS RISEN…” (Matthew 28:5, 6)

            I had never known such despair as Vida and I watched the Son of God cry out as he hung upon the cross. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

            We wanted more than anything to take Him down from the cross and minister to Him. Just like we did after His forty days and nights in the wilderness. After this extreme trial, the devil fled and we strengthened and encouraged Him. (Matthew 4:11)

            “Querida, we have to do something!” my companion said as we watched the Savior on the cross.

            I understood his desperation, but there was a clear message from on High. “I know how you feel, Vida, but we must let Him be.”

            “I can’t stand this, Querida!”

            I turned to speak to my dear friend, but a demonic roar interrupted me. I saw Vermillion and his companion, Adbeel with a company of about two dozen demons celebrating. The gaze between my one time close friend and I connected. The ugliness in his vindictive grin made witnessing the scenes of Calvary all the worse. It was hard to believe he and I had been so tight before the cosmic conflict had begun. Now he was a major nemesis.

            Ironically, Vida and Adbeel were once as tight as Vermillion and I had been. After the fallen angels were cast out of heaven, Vida and I had discussed our similar situations with our former friends. He, like me with Vermillion, had tried to council Adbeel against siding with the Luciferians. However, Vermillion had a more persuasive effect in Adbeel’s ear than Vida. So the four of us had inadvertently switched roles as best of friends.

            Have you ever thought certain sporting participants looked crazed and even evil as they lorded over their opponents? The shouting, flexing, and pounding of chest. Well, that had nothing on the fallen angels as they celebrated the violent, cruel death of the Son of God.

            There’s no point in me trying to describe the demonic seen. Both good and evil angels are invisible to humans unless we purposely manifest to the physical. The best I can suggest is to imagine what I said about poor sportsmen and multiply it tenfold.

            I really loathed the phrase ‘lesser of two evils.’ But that was exactly the position Vida and I were in. Either witness the bloody, beaten form of the Son of Man dying on the cross, or watch a demonic host gloat over it. Something occurred to me as I painfully watched the Prince of Peace in torture. “Jesus can’t see through the portals of the tomb, Vida.”

            “What do you mean?” Vida asked.

            “He’s tasting, not just physical death, but eternal death for humankind. He’s thinking His separation from God the Father will be permanent. Yet He’s submitting to it anyway. What wondrous love!”

            “We must have misunderstood Jesus when He said the third day He will rise again,” Vida replied.

            “It’s not the third day,” I told my companion as I also felt the first glimmer of hope. “He just can’t see it right now. What amazing love!”

            “Absolutely amazing!” Vida agreed.

            The diabolical roar intensified and Vermillion, Adbeel and their fiendish host charged Vida and me. Like the rush of a powerful storm, they came at us. Had things changed with the death of the Son of God? So far we had been untouchable to the fallen angels. Our warfare had been spiritual. We fought over the souls of human beings.

            Vida and I held our position, trusting in God’s protection. It wasn’t in vain. Several of our angelic colleagues rushed up to us like a mighty wall, and the evil forces reeled back. They retreated as if a great tsunami were about to crash down upon them.

            Gabriel, a superior of ours, approached Vida and me with a greeting humans would consider a hug. Then he said, “Vida, Querida, come with me.”

            In a flash we were at the temple, a dozen of us in total. Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up His spirit. Then Gabriel gave the command, “Tear the curtain in two, from the top to the bottom!” (See Matthew 27:50 and 51)

            One of us could have completed this task, despite the veil of the temple being about five inches thick. But it was assigned to several of us so the great honor could be felt by more than one. For the gesture signified an end to sacrifices. For Jesus Christ, the perfect sacrifice, accomplished an end of the old covenant and the beginning of the new covenant. The beginning of righteousness by faith.

            The earth quaked and a centurion that had been guarding Jesus declared, “Truly, this was the Son of God!” (Matthew 27:54)

            “Vida,” Gabriel petitioned. “Go to the Roman guard that just acknowledged Jesus as Messiah. His heart has opened to truth. Do what you can, Adbeel is trying to close in on him.”

            “Aye, aye,” Vida replied enthusiastically, and my partner in righteousness was off.

            Gabriel then assigned some more angels to the women who had been ministering to Jesus. (Matthew 27:55, 56)

            Then he sent another to Joseph of Arimathea to inspire him to ask for the Savior’s body. I was starting to feel left out, yet I knew I wasn’t. I was simply anxious to serve the Son of God however was seen fit. Gabriel’s gaze turned to me. “Querida, I need you to return to heaven briefly.”

            I would have been disappointed if it hadn’t been for the word briefly. This told me I was to be assigned an important task and was going there for a special blessing. When I came back to earth, I did it with such gusto that the earth quaked. I rolled away the large stone that blocked the entrance to Jesus’s tomb. He had risen from the dead!

            I caught a glimpse of Vermillion, Adbeel, and a few of their cohorts. They were singing a different tune now. It was a song of silence, confusion, even despair. I didn’t gloat as they had done. But my heart, if you please, rejoiced over the Son of God’s victory over death! Imagine that, the only human being in history that raised Himself from the dead!

            I was sitting on the large stone when two women close to the Savior’s heart arrived. They looked beyond stunned to see me. I couldn’t help grinning as I reassured them. “Don’t be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for He is risen as He said He would. Come see the place where the Lord lay. Then go quickly and tell His disciples that He is risen from the dead, and indeed He is going before you into Galilee. There you will see Him. Behold I have told you.”

            Trembling with excitement, they ran from the tomb to tell the disciples.

            (Matthew 28:2-8)

            Different perspectives on the resurrection are given at the end of all four Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. At the end of Matthew, Jesus gives The Great Commission, to take the Good News into all the world.

            John sums up his Gospel by expressing a thought about the amazing existence of Jesus.  ‘There are also many other things that Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. Amen.’ (John 21:25)

            Forty days after Jesus’s resurrection, He ascended up to heaven in a cloud. (Acts 1:9) Just before He parted ways with His disciples, He gave them some words of encouragement. Mainly He promised them the gift of the Holy Spirit with power.

            As Jesus arose from the earth, Vida and I stood by not far away and watched a couple of our colleagues. They assured these followers of Jesus of His eventual return, which was to be recorded for posterity in the Word of God.

            “Men of Galilee,” the two men in white apparel said. “Why do you stand gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will so come in like manner as you saw Him go into heaven.” (Acts 1:11)

            It’s been more than two thousand years since God became a man. As a ministering spirit (Hebrew 1:14), I have experienced many victories. Unfortunately, working in a fallen world, with sinful humans, thereby competing with demons, I have also experienced numerous defeats.

            One of earth’s gifted writers said this quote. Actually he wrote a lot of brilliant things under the inspiration of God. But this particular quotation pertains to the battle human beings faced with sin. His name is C. S. Lewis, and I quote, ‘There is no neutral ground in the universe. Every square inch, every split second, is claimed by God, and counter claimed by Satan.’

            I could use up your whole lifetime telling stories spanning several thousand years. So where do I begin? I’ll start off with a young woman close to the present time who gave in to a few too many of Satan’s counter claims.

            Using the hope of love, Vermillion led her to a state of despair. I in turn led her to something that ultimately gave her hope in Christ. You could say we angels lead a person to the water, while the Holy Spirit motivates them to drink. But it is up to the person to say yes. For God is a gentleman. He doesn’t barge in unwanted; He stands at the door and knocks (Revelation 3:20).

            Words are powerful. That’s one reason why Jesus is called the Word (John 1:1). What I put in front of the young woman’s eyeballs was another quote from C.S Lewis. It came at a time when I knew she was despairing of crossing some spiritual line into eternal ruin. She felt her sins were too grievous to go on. She thought to solve her problems by breaking the sixth commandment. (Exodus 20:13)

            The quotation I put in front of her was just the spark needed to light a fire in her soul. The quote said, ‘You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.’

ANGELS AT WAR – CHAPTER 1

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 1

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA (Pronounced Kay-Reeda)

JESUS SAID TO THEM, “I SAW SATAN FALL LIKE LIGTHENING FROM HEAVEN.” (Luke 10:18)

            “Yes, my Lord,” I said as I bowed before the Son of God. “You wish to speak with me?”

            With a gentle touch, He bid me to arise and look at Him. His countenance was pure peace, pure love. “I give you the name Querida, which means beloved,” He told me.

            My eyes turned downcast from His gaze as I replied. “Dear Lord, I don’t deserve that title.”

            “Yes, you do,” He corrected. “You did everything you could to convince the rebels of the heavenly throne of their error.”

            This encounter I had with the Son of God came on the heels of Lucifer becoming Satan. It happened right after he was cast out of heaven with one third of the angels who sided with his position. His view, simply put, being that God was unjust. That God’s law was too restrictive and prohibited liberty.

            But that was a turning point for me. God unjust? No way! And what law? Before Lucifer’s campaign to overthrow the government of God, we were so in harmony with our Maker that I didn’t even realize there was a moral law. This law I speak of would basically become known as the Ten Commandments on earth.

            “But Lord, I was one of the first to petition my fellow angels that they ought to give Lucifer a chance to explain his position,” I admitted.

            “But then you saw the light and walked in the light,” He countered. “You then influenced ten times that number to remain loyal to the Godhead after you discovered the nature behind his agenda.”

            Like most I was dazzled by Lucifer’s majesty and his rank. He was second only to the Son of God. He was charming and very persuasive. One in particular that I had persuaded to listen to Lucifer was my closest friend, Vermillion. And listen we did. But with opposing results.

            Vermillion’s first time listening to Lucifer was my second. Before speaking, the anointed cherub dazzled us with incredible music. But something was different with this second speech I heard.

            The first time around he spoke of a recent meeting the Creator had had with the heavenly host. During this meeting God the Father established something that we had already known. That being, His Son was equal with Him and would be prominent in carrying out God’s purposes. Lucifer’s critique of the declaration regarding the Son of God seemed to be favorable. And I do say ‘seemed.’ With this next go around, there was an air of slyness in his banter. Later, watching him with Eve in the Garden of Eden, reminded me of his early campaign in heaven.

            Not long after Creation came the temptation and fall of man. Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field (Genesis 3:1). And that is what I’m talking about. Even as Lucifer, he was more cunning than any angel in the heavenly host. But that was after iniquity was found in him (Ezekiel 28:15). That is what took me off guard. Not only had there been perfect harmony in heaven, there had been no deceit.

            Lucifer was the first to bring about iniquity. This transgression was all foreign to us. We didn’t know what sin was, let alone all of the different aspects of sin. We didn’t know what deception was. We didn’t know what vanity was. We didn’t know what envy was. We didn’t know what greed was. We didn’t know what violence was. I could go on, but this should get the point across.

            My first clue came when he insinuated that he would have been better at the position than God’s Son. He implied that the working out of God’s purposes was assigned to the Son of God  only because He was, well, God’s Son. He then suggested that God’s government denied us liberty and freedom. He indicated that God’s low key, benevolent Son would only make things worse. He couldn’t have been further from the truth!

            As we parted from what would have been a spectacular political campaign speech on earth, I apologized to Vermillion. “I’m sorry.”

            “For what?” he asked with surprise.

            I returned with my own surprised expression. “For what! He openly defied the Son!”

            “Not really.”

            “How can you say that? That last thing he said. That if he can get at least half the angels to side with him, God will have to let him prove his ways are better.”

            “What’s wrong with that?”

            “What’s wrong with that! It’s disrespectful! Lucifer is a created being like us…”

            “But much more exalted, much more intelligent.”

            “I’ll give you that,” I acknowledged. “But not more than God or His Son!”

            “Look, all he’s asking for is to be given a chance. If God’s fair, he will allow it.”

            And God was fair. He allowed the debate to continue. At one point Lucifer almost did have half of the angels on his side. But as the war of words continued, the Son of God, who would astound all of the holy angels in the future by becoming the Savior of fallen mankind, never lost his cool. Lucifer on the other hand became increasingly testy, and then violent.

            Early on in the scriptures, readers are told of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (Genesis 2:17). This forbidden knowledge would be the plague of humanity. During this war in heaven (Revelation 12:7), the angelic host also learned of good and evil as well. The fallen angels firsthand, and the unfallen by observation.

            God bore long with the rebellious. But being God, He knew what was best. He declared deviation from his government would ultimately bring about degradation, strife and discord. He pointed out that we could already see this with the attitude of Lucifer and his sympathizers. And could we ever!

            I made one last plea with my dear friend Vermillion when I could tell God’s forbearance with the rebellion had culminated. “God’s right, you can see already the unrest that Lucifer’s agenda is bringing, and it hasn’t even been implemented.”

            “There’s unrest because the master hasn’t been given a chance.”

            “Did you just call Lucifer the master?”

            “That’s right,” he said defiantly, wearing an angry countenance I had never seen on him before. We were all becoming aware of so many new concepts and characteristics, and none of them were good.

            “You know you’re gonna be cast out,” I warned.

            He snorted. “So much for freewill.”

            Freewill. Although this was a concept we had been vaguely aware of, it was now foremost in everyone’s mind. We had always had the God given right to choose. But living in harmony with God’s government had been so natural, we never gave freewill a second thought.

            Oh how I wish this discord had never come about! What a sad moment when Lucifer, who had been the ‘morning star’ the ‘light bearer,’ but now brought darkness, was cast out as Satan (Revelation 12:9). And a third (verse 4) of the angels were cast out with him.

            God could have destroyed them with a word. But wouldn’t that have proven Lucifer’s argument correct? After all, he said God was a tyrant that restricted liberty. No, Satan and his evil host would have their chance. Unfortunately, the inhabitants of earth would have to live under his rule after their first parents failed the test of obedience described in Genesis chapter three.

            The result of sin soon showed its colors when one of Adam and Eve’s sons killed another in Genesis chapter four. The ripple effects of sinful natures passed on since the first parents down through the ages has been catastrophic.

            But after the rebellion in heaven, we soon found out that God and His Son had a plan. The Son Himself would become a human being! A baby no less! And this four thousand years after sin had entered the planet. The Gospels not only tell the most remarkable story ever told, God becoming a man to redeem a fallen race, it is the greatest story that ever COULD be told!

            It has been an honor and a privilege to serve The King of Kings for more than six millennium, going to and fro from the earth as a ministering spirit (Hebrews 1:14). But that’s according to your time. For with God a thousand years is like one day (2Peter 3:8 and Psalm 90:4).

            We of heaven truly do rejoice over one sinner who repents (Luke 15:7). We long for this nightmare of a sin experiment to over with like you do. But I have to admit that there’s been an adventurous side, and I’ll tell you what I can.

            Like most soldiers on earth, we ministering spirits will be glad when the war is over. This ‘battle against the rulers of the darkness of this age’ (Ephesians 6:12). With our earthly family that serve God, we agree, come Lord Jesus, come!