ANGELS AT WAR – CHAPTER 6

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 6

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

THE EYES OF THE LORD ARE IN EVERY PLACE, KEEPING WATCH ON THE EVIL AND THE GOOD (PROVERBS 15:3)

            Vermillion and I watched Jimmy Stetson intently as Jenny Oakley knocked on his door. It had been a few weeks since they ran into each other in a bar. Previously it had been a few years since their last encounter.

            They both had had multiple adult beverages that night they mingled in the smokey tavern. With inhibitions lowered and libidos risen, they had engaged in an activity that should be reserved for the marriage bed.

            Jimmy peeked through a gap he made in the curtain. Jenny saw his eyeball staring at her. This made the decision for him and he opened the door. I tried to make him feel self-conscious with his shirt off. But Vermillion inspired Jenny to take in his midriff. He liked it when she shyly bit her lip.

            “Hey Jenny, what’s up?”

            “Um, can we talk for a minute?”

            “Of course, come in.”

            I touched his mind with guilt. I reminded him that he took advantage of a sweet vulnerable young lady. “Let me get a shirt.”

            Vermillion went to work throwing a few temptations into Jenny’s mind. First was the unspoken petition of ‘please leave your shirt off.’ Then, ‘did I really make love with that tanned muscular man that looks like MacGyver’s younger brother?’ ‘ No, you made lust,’ I reminded her. ‘You had a one night stand that left you feeling dirty and cheap.’

            ‘Let desire give you relief from the anguish of your predicament,’ Vermillion encouraged. ‘You already had sex with him.’ Then to me he said with a malicious grin, “Sin is always easier a second time. Even easier as you continue to indulge.”

            Oh how the mighty have fallen! If you’ve noticed how depraved a human being can become when ensconced in sin and rebellion, it is multiple times worse with a fallen angel. I marveled at Vermillion’s desire to destroy someone like Jenny, whose sexual sin stemmed more from insecurity than rebellion.

            I kept guilt and shame forefront on Jimmy’s mind as he went to his dresser and pulled a t-shirt over his head. He exited his bedroom and said, “Look, Jenny, I’m, ah…”

            “I’m pregnant,” she blurted, interrupting him, but wanting to get the news over with.

            Jimmy froze, mouth agape. Jenny turned toward the door and began to make a hasty exit. As she reached for the doorknob, she said, “I just thought you should know of the possibility.”

            Jimmy’s hand covered hers on the doorknob. “Jenny wait… What do you mean I should know of the possibility? You’re not sure you’re pregnant?”

            “Oh no, I’m sure I’m pregnant,” she replied, then cringed. “I just don’t know if you’re the father or not.”

            “Well, that’s dandy,” he responded, running a hand through his hair in disgust. He was always as carful as a philanderer could be. He almost always carried a condom in his wallet. But a key word here was ALMOST always.

            He had failed to replace it after his encounter with a woman the night before his dalliance with Jenny. When Jenny asked him to take her home, he thought about buying one from a machine in the restroom. But then told himself no, he wasn’t going to take advantage of Jenny Oakley in her inebriated state. His motive was to make sure she made it home safe, and without some other guy. At least that’s what his buzzed brain told himself.

            But then, back at her place, she started to do a clumsy dance, imitating the stripper she was dressed like. He found it oddly alluring, this girl who had been so modest, behaving so immodestly. Then when she blatantly…

            “Jenny,” he had drawled. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by turning her down. So he told her he didn’t have protection.

            “I’m on the pill,” she had breathed huskily into his ear.

            STD’s were another motive of his with the twofold reason for using protection. But Jenny had revealed her sexual history when they were at the bar. She had only been with one guy, her long term relationship. Well, a two year relationship was long to Jimmy.

            “You said you were on the pill,” Jimmy said as they stood in his living room.

            “I was,” she said and then groaned. “But when I had relationship troubles with Devin, I became depressed and lackadaisical. I started to forget to take them from time to time.”

            “Wonderful!” Jimmy said sarcastically. Vermillion was starting off successfully by having Jimmy focus on himself and how this affected him rather than Jenny, who obviously was carrying the tiny child. I needed to counter somehow.

            “Sorry,” she said, hanging her head meekly.

            “Come on, Jimmy, one of the things that always drew you to Jenny was your noble, manly desire to protect those that are weak,” I said.

            “But his sexual instinct is even stronger than nobility,” Vermillion said. I didn’t realize I was verbalizing the thought I put into Jimmy’s head. Vermillion grinned maliciously. “Jimmy likes his freedom, doesn’t he? His freedom to party and pursue. Pursue skirts that is.”

            I ignored my counterpart. One of things I knew that Vermillion didn’t know was that Jimmy  recently began to feel dissatisfied with his philandering lifestyle. He was starting to feel like a dog chasing its tale. It was exciting during the conquest, but empty in the aftermath.

            This dissatisfied feeling of sleeping around began with Jenny a couple weeks ago. As wrong as a night of inebriation and fornication is, he experienced something with Jenny he had never felt before. Love. But because this knowledge was foreign to him. And because these feelings confused and even scared him. And because he felt like he took advantage of her. His response was to run and hide.

            Now she was pregnant and there was a new feeling Vermillion was putting upon him. That feeling was trapped. A second was frustrated. This child might or might not be his. This thought pushed forth the question. “So this other guy, is he a dark man so you’ll know which of us that way?”

            She shook her head. “He has light brown hair and blue eyes.”

            He threw up his hands in frustration. “So it’s a fifty, fifty chance it’s mine or his?”

            She winced. “More like eighty, twenty.”

            “What’s that mean?” he frowned.

            “I mean I was with Devin five or six times to your once, you know, that month.”

            Jimmy gazed cooly at her, bordering on cold. Then he said, “I don’t know whether that’s better or worse.”

            First her mother, then Devin, and now Jimmy. Three negative responses, strike three. She bit her lower lip as she felt tears burn the back of her eyes. Jimmy noticed the glassiness in her windows to the soul. “I’m not holding you responsible in anyway. I almost wasn’t going to tell you, but I thought you had a right to know of the possibility. Goodbye, Jimmy.”

            For a second time she urgently reached for the doorknob. For a second time he covered her hand with his. “Jenny, wait.” She waited. “So I take it you’re having it.”

            “Stop calling my child it!” she said harshly.

            Jimmy felt his eyebrows raise. He had never witnessed Jenny hostile or angry. He raised his hands. “Sorry.”

            “I’m sorry for snapping,” she said, then rubbed her temples.

            “So,” he asked, then unable to say Devin’s name. “Have you told the other guy yet?”

            She nodded.

            “How did he respond?”

            “By giving me two hundred dollars toward an abortion.”

            “Does he know there’s a chance the child is someone else’s?”

            She shook her head.

            “So he didn’t even consider doing the right thing and asking you to marry him?” Jimmy asked and then frowned. When had he himself cared about doing the right thing in relationships?

            “Did you put that thought there?” Vermillion asked me with a smirk.

            “Why, are you concerned?”

            “Hardly. What is Jimmy Stetson’s longest relationship? Four months at the most.”

            “So you’re saying you’d ask me to marry you if I knew for sure it was yours?” Jenny asked as a scold, with sternly folded arms.

            “Well, now, Jenny. You said this other guy and you were together two years, while we only knew each other three months. And that was from one class, an hour a day.”

            “Plus one night for at least six hours between bar and bedroom,” she said bitterly.

            Jimmy was dumbfounded. Although he had been intimate with dozens of women, this was the first accusation of impregnation. “So… What are you gonna do? I mean, you know, what’s your plan?”

            “Right now I’m considering adoption.”

            “Is that what you want?”

            He noticed her eyes get glassy again. Then her lower lip began to quiver. “What I want is to not be pregnant.”

            Jimmy almost put his foot in his mouth and suggested an abortion. But she had already insinuated that wasn’t an option by the disgust at her ex-boyfriend. Plus he knew from their high school days she had been religious.

            “I better go,” Jenny said nervously as she wiped at a tear that leaked from her eye. Then she quickly turned toward his door.

            For a third time Jimmy placed a hand over hers on the doorknob. “Jenny, wait.”

            “Just let me go,” she squealed with a high pitched sob.

            Jimmy reeled back, and she fled through the door and trotted to a rusty yellow Ford Pinto.

            “Go after her,” I urged Jimmy. “If ever a person needed a friend, it was now.”

            “You feel trapped Jimmy,” Vermillion grinned. “No way you want to be involved in  raising another man’s child. Because it likely isn’t yours, just could be.”

            “There’s a reasonable chance it’s yours,” I petitioned.

            But Jimmy just stood there. I suppose it might seem like Vermillion and I were a cartoon. A little red devil with a pitchfork on one shoulder, and an angel in white with a halo on the other. The demonic realm would like you to think that. For they are masters of diversion, temptation and manipulation. For their supreme leader is the father of lies. (John 8:44)

            He told his first lie to the human race in the Garden of Eden, when he suggested to Eve, “You will not surely die.” (Genesis 3:4) Fallen angels are cunning, intelligent, while humans, apart from God, are no match. The Bible warns in Ephesians 6:12 that humanity spiritually wrestles against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in high places.

            But the remedy is sandwiched between this text in Ephesians 6:12! Verse eleven says—Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.

            Verse thirteen says—Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. The verses that follow thirteen describe your weapons of spiritual warfare.

            Not even a half an hour after Jenny left, Vermillion gloated. “Now, watch me decisively win this battle for Jimmy’s soul.”

            A knock at Jimmy’s door this time revealed Lexi. She beamed a greeting at him. He grinned back at the beautiful girl. But puzzled, he asked, “How’d you know where I live?”

            “Phone book, silly.”

            She was hotter than ever in Daisy Duke style jean shorts. He could see she was wearing the same red bikini top from earlier in the afternoon. Only she made a feeble attempt at modesty by wearing a large white men’s tank top over it. It was so big for her petite frame that it only made the partially covered bikini top all the more alluring.

            “I was wondering if you would do me a favor?” she asked with a teasing smile.

            “Depends,” he replied with a coy grin.

            “So, the party this evening is a pool party. There’s supposed to be at least two girls per one guy. I don’t feel like competing for male companionship right now, but if I show up with someone who will be the hottest guy there, I won’t have to.”

            Jimmy’s vanity was flattered. His occupation in construction left him with a deep tan and muscular without needing to workout. Plus, if sexy Lexi felt she needed to compete for male attention, what must her bikini clad friends look like? Not to mention her earlier promise, ‘I’ll make it worth your while!’

            “I suppose I could help you out,” Jimmy responded with a sultry smile. He figured this would very much be worth enduring being, at twenty-two, the old guy there.

            “Cha-ching!” Vermillion triumphed.

ANGELS AT WAR – CHAPTER 5

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 5

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

FOR WHO KNOWS WHAT IS GOOD FOR A MAN IN LIFE, ALL THE DAYS OF HIS VAIN LIFE WHICH HE PASSES LIKE A SHADOW? WHO CAN TELL A MAN WHAT WILL HAPPEN AFTER HIM UNDER THE SUN? (Ecclesiastes 6:12)

            “That a boy,” Vermillion said with malicious delight as Jimmy Stetson eyed the pretty blonde. Only he was studying her back side, not her hair follicles.

            “Christians like to talk of being thankful,” Vermillion told me. “Well Querida, I’m thankful for the sexual instinct. It is so easy to get humans to stray from the intended purpose of love and procreation, and into the ecstasy of lust.”

            Jimmy had just departed a record store at the mall. Music stores were quite prevalent in 1990. Lexi Bennet and her bestie had exited the clothing store directly across just a couple seconds ahead of him. Jimmy knew Lexi because she had lived next door to his sister for the last eight years. Vermillion encouraged him to become hypnotized by her Calvin Klein Jeans as she walked. Several times my former friend encouraged with the quiet mantra, ‘Little Lexi is now sexy Lexi.’

            As they left the mall, Lexi held the door for Jimmy. They made eye contact and her face lit up. “Oh hey! You’re Jill Kennon’s brother.”

            “I am,” he replied with a charming smile.

            “Jake, right?”

            “Jake’s our brother, I’m,” he almost called himself Jim, but wanted to appear closer to her age. Not that his twenty-two to her eighteen was that big of a difference. Not now anyway. But when he was eighteen and she was fourteen? Out of the question. “I’m Jimmy.”

            “Cool.”

            “So I understand you graduated high school last month.”

            “I did,” she beamed.

            “So what are you gonna do with your life?” he asked as they walked onto the parking lot.

            She giggled. “Now you sound like my dad.”

            Oh no, he didn’t want to go that direction! “I’m not prying, just curious.”

            “I’m gonna go to Kirkwood part time for now, until I decide what I want to do,” she said, referring to the local community college. “Plus I work at Younkers,” she told him, referring to the department store at the other end of the mall.

            “Nice,” he said as he threw a leg over a maroon Yamaha Vmax.

            “Wow, is this yours?”

            “No, I’m stealing it,” he joked.

            She gave his upper arm a playful shove, then aimed a flirtatious smile at him. “Will you give me a ride sometime?”

            “Absolutely. When?”

            “How about now? Give me a ride home? I’m sure you know where I live.”

            “Sure,” he replied happily. Oh how he loved his motorcycle! It sometimes picked up girls for him.

            She looked at her dark haired dark eyed friend. “Do you mind?”

            “Go for it,” she replied with a coy smile. “I’ll call you later about the party tonight.”

            “Awesome,” Lexi replied as she climbed on behind Jimmy. She was a little clumsy, having never ridden on a motorcycle before.

            As Lexi hugged Jimmy’s back side, he grinned at what a wonderful tool a motorcycle was for making time with the ladies. But as he cruised down Lexi’s street, his smile faded when he spotted his sister in her flower bed in front of her house. What was she doing home from work? Was it possible she wouldn’t notice?

            “Did you arrange that with Jimmy’s sister, or was it just chance?” Vermillion asked me as we watched the mini drama play begin.

            I just responded with what humans would consider a shrug. It’s impossible to explain the invisible realm. As deep as the Bible is, The Good Book is only a glimpse of the depths of God. ‘Can you search out the deep things of God? Can you find out the limits of the almighty? (Job 11:7). Even the sharpest people have a dim comprehension of spiritual things. ‘For they see through a mirror dimly.’ (1 Corinthians 13:12)

            “That was fun!” Lexi cooed into Jimmy’s ear. “Hey, do you want to go to a party tonight?”

            Perspectives could be hard to figure out. Twenty minutes ago Jimmy figured that Lexi’s and his age difference wasn’t much. But now, the thought of a party with a group of recent high school graduates would make him feel like a grandpa. “Thanks, but I don’t think so, Lexi.”

            She had climbed off his bike as he made his reply. She leaned in and placed a hand just above his knee. With a low sultry voice, she said, “Are you sure? I’ll make it worth your while.”

            Carnal desire stirred within him. Talk about a subtle, but not so subtle hint. She seemed to stick out her chest which was wrapped in a tight spaghetti strap top. His eyes wanted to feast on the lustful sight, but he glanced toward his sister in the neighboring yard instead.

            Vermillion caused her to focus on the weeds in her flower bed. I tried to have her ear catch her brother’s motorcycle as it pulled into Lexi’s driveway. Vermillion won. But a friend of Lexi’s passed in a car. Vermillion caused a glitch with her radio, trying to distract her from Lexi and her suitor. But right before her eyes diverted to the audio device, she caught sight of her gal pal with the studly fellow and honked.

            Jill Kennon glanced at the noise, and then back to her flower garden. Then her brain registered the familiar sight in her neighbor’s driveway, causing her to do a double take. She saw little Lexi Bennet leaning in close to her brother. Jimmy, wearing a sheepish smile, waved at his sibling.

            Jill stood, faced the couple, and began to march toward them. But instead of using one of her hands to return the greeting, she placed them on her hips. Lexi grinned happily and waved vigorously. “Hi, Mrs. Kennon. I ran into Jimmy at the mall and he was nice enough to give me a ride.”

            “So I see,” she replied with a fake smile. “He is so incredibly nice and thoughtful… Say brother dear, would you mind coming over and help me start my lawnmower? It pulls hard.”

            “I’ll be seeing you, Lex.”

            “I hope so,” she said with a coy smile.

            Did he hear his sister say, ‘No, you won’t.’

            Jimmy started his motorcycle and drove it one hundred feet and into his sister’s driveway. As he walked toward her garage, he said, “It doesn’t look like your lawn needs mowed.”

            “It doesn’t. Can you do me a favor and keep your hands off my young neighbor?”

            “My hands weren’t on her.”

            “Hers were on you?”

            “What can I say?” he grinned.

            “You can say you’ll stay away from my young neighbor. There are plenty of fish in the sea, so please keep away from little Lexi.”

            “Little Lexi is now sexy Lexi,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

            Jill glared at her brother with hands on hips once again. How is it you could love somebody, but often dislike them, she wondered?

            “Come on, maybe I’m looking for love,” he grinned.

            “Looking for love in all the wrong places,” his sister sang the once popular country song. She had a good voice. The grin left his face. Why did he suddenly think of Jenny as she sang?

            “You just made him think of Jenny,” Vermillion declared, then shrugged. “I’m okay if he fornicates with her some more. Lead her even further away from the God she once knew.  But watch this. Guys are so easy to switch from feelings of love to lust.”

            Through his sisters garage window, Jimmy caught movement in Lexi’s back yard. His sister’s eighteen year old neighbor, in the fresh flush of womanhood, walked into her back yard wearing only a tiny red bikini. How did she change so fast? She kicked off her flip flops and lay on a fold out lawn chair. She almost seemed to aim her body at the garage window.

            Jill noticed her brother’s trance and said, “Let’s go in and have some lemonade.”

            “I’m good.”

            “I said lets go inside and have some lemonade!”

            “Yes, master,” Jimmy mocked.

            Jill cleared some newspapers off her kitchen table. I thought about telling Vermillion to ‘watch this’ but didn’t. My job was to minister to souls, not exchange banter with my opponent in the task. A colorful paper fell to the floor, catching Jimmy’s eye.

            He frowned after he picked it up. Prominently displayed was a strange looking creature from Revelation chapter thirteen. It had seven heads and ten horns. Above and below this beast stated ‘Who is the antichrist? Is hellfire a place or an event? Are we living in the end times? Can the Bible be trusted? Do you want to understand Bible prophecy? Please join us for a ten part series at Kennedy High School auditorium.’ Then it listed dates, the first beginning that very evening at 7pm.

            Vermillion looked concerned at first. But then he nodded happily when Jimmy showed his sister the paper. “No don’t,” I petitioned. “Do,” Vermillion countered.

            “What’s this?” Jimmy asked Jill.

            She shrugged. “I don’t know, I found it in my door the day before yesterday. Just something from some religious fanatics I suppose. I meant to throw it away.”

            Jimmy tossed it back onto the table. If his sister thought it was bogus, it probably was. She was a much better person. Although he never knew her to study a Bible, she did religiously put an hour a week in at church with her family. She grabbed the brochure her brother discarded, crumpled it, and tossed it into the garbage.

            “That’s it,” Vermillion beamed. “Good job, Jill.”

            I shrugged. At least a seed might have been planted. The best hope for germination was with Jenny. But it was a precarious situation, what with her pregnancy and all. Not to mention her back slidden state of mind. It was a long shot to be sure.

            That same afternoon, Jenny laid down for a nap. She hadn’t been sleeping good ever since her pregnancy diagnosis. One of the things that kept her up at night was thoughts of Jimmy. She had such remorse about her behavior that drunken night. The way she seduced him. The way he was so hesitant when she threw herself at him in her apartment. She vowed to herself never to drink again.

            She wondered if she wasn’t pretty enough for him, and that’s why he was so hesitant. She had seen some of his girlfriends. They were gorgeous, like they stepped out of a men’s magazine. But that night after Trixie dressed her in some of her clothes, she looked at least close to the girls Jimmy dated, maybe even on par. After all, plenty of other guys noticed. Liquored up men don’t seem to hide their leering.

            So why was he so reluctant when she practically threw herself at him? Actually, no practically about it, she out right threw herself at Jimmy. Then he frowned, groaned, rubbed his face and said her name like a regret. Regardless, he slowly undressed and he became one of two possibilities as the father of her child. She wondered if he slept with her out of some perverse form of pity.

            She rolled onto her side and Vermillion began to give her a nightmare, although it was daytime. I caused a car to backfire and she awoke, lifted her head for a moment, then rolled onto her other side, and muttered ‘Lord help me.’ I blocked a second attempt by Vermillion with a dream of my own.

            Jenny had been absorbed with the negative that happened with Jimmy. In her night vision, although it was day, I had her recall a few of his words when they were reacquainted and then had them echo in her head. “I liked the old Jenny better.”

            The dream gave Jenny the resolve she needed to face Jimmy. Instead of a mini dress that rode high up her thigh and low on her chest, she put on a knee length tan and white gingham dress. Tennis shoes and ankle socks replaced the black stockings and pumps. Instead of poofy hair like an 80’s hair band, she pulled it back and secured it with a hair clip. Instead of makeup plastered on like cake frosting, just a little lip gloss.

            Twenty minutes later, with her heart thumping a little faster than usual, she stood on the steps of the mobile home Jimmy shared with a buddy. Jimmy was laying on his back on his bed, hands behind his head when he heard the knocking. His roommate wasn’t home to answer, but he didn’t feel like getting up. Probably just some type of soliciting.

            His mind was tormented. He kept hearing sexy Lexi say, ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’ Then he would think of his encounter with Jenny Oakley the previous weekend. Every time it made him a little sick. How could he have taken advantage of her like that? He knew she was drunk. She sure had changed, a complete one eighty. She wasn’t who he thought she was.

            Jenny had been the most beautiful girl he had ever known. At a casual glance, she was a plain Jane. But in reality, she had a wholesome beauty. And it was the things that were the opposite of the norm that made her so appealing. Her milky white skin, so feminine and lush, yet always modestly covered, only providing a mysterious glimpse of a calf, ankle, forearm or occasionally a shoulder. Her silky hair was too sandy to call her a brunette, but too dark to be blonde. Her round grey eyes, always so serious, making her cute rather than striking.

            But it was her personality that had made her so compelling, coupled with her loveliness. She was so sweet and unassuming. She had such a quiet dignity and inner strength. He knew she had been teased about the conservative way she dressed. They called her things like Laura Ingalls, or Amish girl. Yet it seemed to roll off of her like a duck shedding water. But apparently it hadn’t.

            How did she change so drastically? That sensible girl, who looked like she walked off the set of the Walton’s or Little House On the Prairie. He thought for sure that she was the type to hold out sex for marriage. Instead, she’s now a party girl who dresses like a stripper and apparently has no problem with one night stands. What a shame, what a waste! But what was he?

            More knocking. He mumbled, “Just go away.”

            He thought of a clothing incident when he shared a lab table with her in science class the last trimester of their senior year. It came with only days left in the school year. A split in her long denim skirt had shifted, and as she sat with her leg crossed over the other, it exposed most of her leg and more than half of her thigh.

            It was much less skin revealed than a cheerleader exposed, yet to him it was more alluring. Why? He supposed because it had been a mystery hidden for almost a dozen weeks. She also looked more lovely than lustful as she concentrated on finals, her soft lips gently nibbling on her pencil.

            He had never known a more beautiful woman than eighteen year old Jenny Oakley. Even more so than eighteen year old sexy Lexi. Yet if the two were walking down opposite sides of a street, probably ten out of ten guys were checking out Lexi.

            Now the twenty-two year old Jenny Oakley was another story. It would probably be fifty, fifty. It all depended on whether a guy preferred a toned Sports Illustrated swim suit model with Lexi. Or if a guy preferred a curvy, sexy stripper type with Jenny. Oh Jenny, why? How could you change so drastically?

            More knocking. When would they go away?

            Something occurred to him. “Hey, maybe it’s Lexi!”

            He sprang from his bed. She could make it worth his while now! Then he wouldn’t have to endure a party with a bunch of teenagers. He peeked out of the window to see just who the knocker was. He reeled back a couple steps when he saw it was Jenny! And she was dressed like the old Jenny rather than the sexpot from last week.

            What was she doing here? He figured she would be more ashamed than he, at least at facing each other again. He had never felt anxiety about facing a former fling until Jenny. He was torn about how he felt. He didn’t understand what he felt. Why did he both want to go back to his bedroom and wait her out, and open the door to see what she had to say? He wondered if she was here for another romp in the sack, or to scold him for taking advantage of her inebriated state? Since she was dressed similar to their high school days, rather than a hooker, probably the latter.

            He went to a closer window to get a better look. Ever so gently he peeled open the curtain about an inch. When he peered out, a wave of anxiety soared through him as her two wide round gray-blue eyes were looking right at his lone eyeball!

            Vermillion laughed as we watched Jimmy. The cackle was as if my opponent was saying checkmate. He felt confident their dialogue would lead to one of two possibilities. If Jimmy encouraged abortion, then maybe that would lead to Jenny ending her own life as well.

            If adoption, Vermillion would brew a stew of emotional support with a main ingredient of lust. This would get them fornicating some more. Then he would somehow get sexy Lexi in Jimmy’s path and cause a terrible triangle. With Jenny feeling so vulnerable, either direction could put her over the edge of despair. It looked like a win, win for my diabolical opponent.

            ‘The devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.’ (1 Peter 5:8)

            But we angels never give up. In other words, it ain’t over till it’s over. Besides, I had some intel that my former friend wasn’t aware of.

ANGELS AT WAR – CHAPTER 4

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 4

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

WHY ARE YOU CAST DOWN OH MY SOUL? AND WHY ARE YOU DISQUIETED WITHIN ME? HOPE IN GOD. (Psalm 42:11)

            “Productive moves,” I told Vermillion.

            “I thought so,” he replied confidently.

            “But all things work together for good to those who love God,” I quoted Romans 8:28.

            “The Son of God said if you love me keep my commandments,” Vermillion challenged. “But does Jenny keep God’s commandments?”

            The demonic realm knows scripture better than humans. That’s why they have been so successful in diverting people away from the truths in which the Bible actually teaches. Often through traditions and religion itself.

            He continued, “No, your little angel, pun intended, was on the verge of self-murder. When I get through with her and the people she looks to for support with the tiny urchin in her womb, she will at a minimum execute him. Then the guilt will put her back into a frame of mind to execute herself as well.”

            “We’ll see.”

            “You even admitted I set her up just fine for destruction.”

            “On the contrary, I believe your arrangement will ultimately give her resolve, not despair.”

            He had seemed self-satisfied but now looked dubious. Satan and his demons are experts at reading body language. They also specialize in knowing just what buttons to push for everyone’s particular temptations. But they can’t read the mind. They can’t force a person to sin.

            ‘Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you’ (James 4:7). Verse 8 is key. ‘Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.’

            Righteous angels also can’t read the mind. But we do have an advantage. God, in whom we ultimately take direction from, can. The advantage the dark side has is fallen human nature and the selfish desires that go along with it..

            Vermillion worked to do, not just a double whammy on Jenny Oakley, but a triple whammy. As painful as it was for me to see her in pain, I needed to stand by and allow it. For I knew something Vermillion didn’t.

            As much as she dreaded it, Jenny felt the need to inform the potential fathers. But first she felt the need to inform her mother. Vermillion paved the way for this encounter by giving her mother trouble with Jenny’s two older half siblings.

            Three days earlier, Jenny’s twenty-five year old sister was sentenced to two years in prison after yet another arrest for theft. Two days later her twenty-six year old brother was fired from yet another job. Then only an hour before Jenny’s arrival, he had asked to borrow money to pay his rent. When it rains it pours!

            Jenny’s mother was clearly stressed. So she decided to postpone informing her mother about her dilemma. But her mother knew she had paid her a visit for a serious reason, so she coaxed it out of her youngest child. Her reaction couldn’t have caused Jenny more pain.

            It was one of those situations where a person would rather have a response of anger. With tremendous remorse, her mother began to weep. A pitiful whimper escaped from her lips as she lamented, “Oh, Jenny. You were my one hope.”

            As bad as she felt as she left her mother’s place, Jenny intended to still tell the two potential fathers. She not only wanted to get it over with, she wanted to know what their reactions would be.

            By the time she got to the front door of Devin’s condo, she felt defiant. Normally meek and timid, her mother’s reaction made her, at first sad, then angry. Angry at Devin. Two years of dreaming about a white picket fence and two or three kids shot down. And why? Was she not pretty enough? Was she not smart enough? Was she not witty enough? Was she not charming enough? Was she not driven enough? Was she too clingy and needy?

            There were eight units in Devin’s condo. He was on the bottom floor in the rear corner of the building. Her finger hovered over the intercom button for unit three. She hated the sound of hearing his mechanical ‘yeah?’ coming through the device. She disliked replying ‘it’s me.’ Then without a word of greeting from him, there was the sound of a buzz as if opening the door in a prison.

            She decided to go around to his back patio instead. What did it matter if he didn’t like it and threw a fussy fit? She would just blurt out, I’m pregnant and you’re… Oh my! She stopped and bit her finger nail. You are the father? You might be the father? How should she put it, what with not being certain of the parentage?

            Then she visualized him crossing his arms and giving her that squinty eyed glare of his. Then asking, who else have you been with if she said might. But who cares? Wasn’t he with someone else himself! After all it was he who wooed her back for a half dozen intimate encounters. It was he who strayed not once but twice. But boy, what a mess not knowing exactly who the father was!

            Six foot tall hedges surrounded the ten by ten patio. There was actually a chain link gate blocking the entry. She had always thought that was silly since a burglar could just plow through the hedges, if he was willing to risk a couple scratches that is. She had only seen Devin work the three digit combination a few times, but she had remembered it.

            Once past the gate she took tentative steps toward the sliding glass door. She raised a hand to rap and then froze. She noticed the tops of two heads that appeared to be joined sitting on the sofa. Why hadn’t she considered that he could be with the other woman? Now she was spying on the pair making out on his couch.

            She took a couple steps back as she prepared to slink away. This obviously wasn’t the right time. She tripped over a patio chair, lost her balance and fell onto a second patio chair. She inadvertently shoved the second chair and with a loud bang it slid into the sliding glass door.

            Thankfully the glass didn’t break, but the couple on the sofa shot up like a couple jack in the boxes. Jenny was mortified! Then stunned! Devin apparently didn’t leave her for another woman after all. The partially dressed person that had been on the sofa with Devin was a guy.

            Devin seemed to shove his companion toward his front door as the two rapidly buttoned up their clothing. Devin moved quickly to the sliding glass door and opened it. Although he used expletives as he asked Jenny what she was doing, he seemed more confused and discombobulated than angry.

            “Jenny, what are you doing here!” he said, more as an accusation than a question.

            “I need to talk to you about something.”

            “Why didn’t you go to the front like a normal person?” he asked with hands on hips.

            Vermillion was inspiring Devin the way he had during most of their association. He was taking control, making her feel she was unworthy and that she should feel grateful to simply be in his presence. He had been the boss in their relationship, and he needed to take charge now. Especially with what she might have seen as she snuck up to his back door and spied.

            I, on the other hand, reminded Jenny of how often she felt humiliation with his condescending ways. I gave her recollection of why she was there in the first place. The pair of thoughts gave her the boldness needed to stand up to him. He had twice dumped her and left her pregnant after coaxing her into satisfying his lust.

            She shrugged and mirrored his hands on hips. Then she spoke loud enough he feared the neighbors overhearing. “I didn’t want to hear your pathetic voice through that squeaky intercom.”

            His frown turned into arched eyebrows. Jenny had never spoken to him like this before. Her reaction to the break ups had been crying and blithering. But then he frowned again. “So what did you feel the need to talk to me about? I’m not taking you back again!”

            “Taking me back? Ha! You’re the one that came crawling back several weeks ago, telling me you made a mistake with…” Now Jenny’s frown turned into arched eyebrows. “That guy.”

            “What guy?” Devin replied, seeming rattled. He turned and looked into his condo, and then back to Jenny. “There’s nobody here.”

            “I know what I saw Devin. You were sitting on the couch with some guy.”

            “Oh him… We had been working out together, then watching a ball game, but he had to leave.”

            “You two appeared to be kissing. You were half undressed when you stood.”

            “What are you talking about!” Devin said testily, but clearly nervous. “I told you we had been working out. Come sneaking up spying on me and then making phony allegations. How dare you!”

            Jenny put her hands up. She wisely realized he was only gonna get angrier if she pushed it. “Look, Devin, let’s just forget about it. There was glare on the glass, I must have been seeing things. Okay?”

            He eyed her suspiciously, Then wanting to move away from what she may or may not have seen, he asked belligerently, “So what did you need to tell me that a phone call wouldn’t have sufficed?”

            “I’m pregnant?” she blurted.

            He looked stunned. Then his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted. Then he sarcastically replied, “Really?”

            “Really,” she responded quietly.

            He began to pace and breath hard in and out of his nose. Then he stopped. “I thought you were on the pill?”

            “I am,” she replied. “But in the aftermath of our break up, I wasn’t eating, I wasn’t sleeping, and I became lackadaisical and forgot to consistently take them.”

            “So what now, are you trying to trap me?”

            “No, not at all. I just thought you had a right to know.”

            Devin still eyed her skeptically. Although he knew she wasn’t the type to sleep around, he had to ask. “So you’re saying I’m the father, and you’re one hundred percent sure?”

            She shook her head and then hung it in shame. “No, just most likely. You and I were together a half dozen times, but I did have a one night stand a couple days after you left me the second time.”

            “You had a one night stand?” he laughed without humor. “Maybe you should tell him too. Or was it some low life who you don’t even know?”

            “I know him and I plan to tell him.”

            “Who is it?”

            “You don’t know him. He was an old classmate I ran into when I went out with some friends.”

            “Wait here a minute,” he said cooly. He returned and placed two one hundred dollar bills into her hand and closed her fingers around it.

            “What’s this?”

            “It’s for an abortion.”

            “I’m not getting an abortion,” she said, shoving the money back at him, but he ignored the gesture.

            “Yeah,” he laughed sarcastically. “So you’re too moral to get an abortion, but not too moral to get naked with a guy you don’t know.”

            “I told you I knew him.”

            “Oh yeah, how long have you been dating?”

            She dropped the bills on the patio. “Have a nice life.”

            “Jenny wait,” he ordered. She kept going. Then with frightening hostility, he spoke to her back. “If you spread any lies about me, you’ll regret it! Big time!”

            Jenny stopped her hands from trembling by gripping the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. Maybe she should get an abortion, she thought. Did she really want to have a child that was half Devin? But there was a chance it was Jimmy’s baby, small though it might be. For it was only the one time and on the back side of her monthly cycle when she was probably done ovulating.

            Since the odds favored Devin being the father, she decided to procrastinate telling Jimmy of the possibility. Between the ugly encounters with first her mother and then Devin, she didn’t feel she had the fortitude to face a third confrontation that day. So she planned to wait at least until tomorrow. But her meetings with her mother and ex-boyfriend left such a bad taste in her mouth, she ended up waiting a week.

            Like a spiritual chess game, Vermillion and I maneuvered our pieces in the time before Jenny sought out Jimmy. He put into his path a woman that looked like she stepped out of the pages of a men’s magazine. While I caused his eyes to be cast onto something that at one time was a simple piece of blank white paper but now carried a meaningful message.

ANGELS AT WAR – CHAPTER 3

ANGELS AT WAR

CHAPTER 3

ARCHANGEL QUERIDA

THEY WHO SIN AGAINST ME WRONGS THEIR OWN SOUL (Proverbs 8:36)

            Jenny Oakley lay sprawled on her bed; her position reminded her of making snow angels as a little girl. She glanced at the bottle of pills on her nightstand and then back at the ceiling. What was she to do? Twenty-two, single, poor and pregnant. She turned her head back to the nightstand, recalling the haunting words from Becky yesterday. Then she watched her hand move toward the bottle.

            “Jenny,” Becky had begun her judgement with a soft tone. Her condemning words ironically sounded soothing, sweet and dripping with honey. “Given what you confided to me the other day, I’m afraid I had to make a tough, tough decision. But as head deaconess, it’s my responsibility to uphold integrity… I’m afraid I can’t allow you to teach the children’s Bible  class going forward.”

            “Stop tempting her with the pills,” I told Vermillion.

            “She has free will,” he replied menacingly. “You put things in her way; I put things in her way.”

            “Why are you so filled with hate? Why do you want to destroy a sweet, innocent girl?”

            “Innocent? Ha! She’s a fornicator. She doesn’t even know if the daddy of her love child is Devin Hart or Jimmy Stetson.”

            “No thanks to you taking advantage of her desperation.”

            “Oh poor little heartsick Jenny. The Christian Bible tells its believers to come out of the world, not adopt its philosophies. She should have kept her skirt on until she was married, right? Not only that, she became intoxicated and had a one night stand with Jimmy Stetson.”

            “If anyone sins, they have an Advocate with Jesus,” I told him, paraphrasing 1 John 2:1.

            “Oh yeah? So apparently she had to use that Advocate over hundred times during the last two years. Every time she climbed into bed with old Devin baby.”

            “In her mind she was committing to him for life.”

            “Really?” he drawled sarcastically. “Funny, I never heard any vows. Never saw a wedding band slipped onto her finger. As matter of fact, in the beginning, as I’m sure you recall, he told her a man has needs. He suggested he would move on if those needs weren’t met. Shouldn’t he have at least suggested establishing a home together one day? She gave into ‘a man has needs’ without so much as a hint of commitment.”

            “They met in church, so she assumed he was in it for the long haul.”

            “Are you excusing sin?” he taunted.

            “Of course not! But I am trying to keep a desperate young woman from destroying herself for eternity.”

            “Too late, old friend,” he replied, emphasizing old and our former friendship before he became part of the third of angels cast out with their leader.

            “Why are you so cruel? Jenny’s done absolutely nothing to you.”

            “Oh yes she has, by default. We were kicked out of heaven for what you call sin. She’s a sinner. Jesus called Satan a murderer (John 8:44). Well old friend, this little hussy considerers herself a believer, while at the same time she’s contemplating murdering herself along with that little bun in the oven.”

            “You seem to be ignoring a huge difference.”

            “Am I? Or is sin not sin then?”

            “You and your cohorts sinned in the light of God’s glory. Without a fallen supernatural being taking advantage of weak human nature.”

            Vermillion grunted angrily and coaxed Jenny to not only reach for but grab the pills. I blocked and countered by causing her to notice the mail she had thrown onto the nightstand before she crashed onto her bed. Of the three pieces, two were junk mail. Then she frowned at the anonymous note I had arranged to arrive in her box.

            I might have had a text sent, but this was the summer of 1990, several years before cell phones. The brief communication simply said, ‘You can’t change the beginning, but you can start now and change the ending. Before you do something desperate, go talk to the two potential fathers. And I do mean both! They have a right to know.’

            Her frown deepened as she reread the note. She unconsciously opened the drawer of the nightstand and pushed the pills inside and closed it. Vermillion expressed frustration. He called me a few unflattering names and threatened to double down.

            Jenny wondered who of the two women she had confided in had sent the note. But wait, she thought, as an old saying came to mind. ‘Can three people keep a secret? Yes, if two are dead.’

            Maybe Trixie had told the other two girls she went out with during that night of indiscretion with Jimmy Stetson. What was she thinking that day, before it turned into night? But she had been curious.

            Curiosity is one of the most successful tricks my counterparts use, curiosity of the forbidden. What would it be like to smoke a cigarette or even a joint? What would it be like to experiment with some form of forbidden sex? What would it be like to try a beer or wine cooler?

            In hindsight, Jenny spending an evening with wild young women, who went by the names Trixie, Roxy, and Skippy, was poor judgement. Especially when Trixie declared happily, “We’re virtually the same size!” She then proceeded to dress Jenny like her peers. Complete with a low cut top, high rising skirt, black stockings, and shoes with three inch heels. Then they decorated her head with what seemed like a whole can of hairspray and gaudy make up.

            She felt like a clown and could hardly walk in the shoes. She regretted accepting the invitation Trixie had regularly offered her. The two women worked together as waitresses at a diner. Trixie was always sharing stories with her coworkers about carnal adventures she experienced with her girlfriends. And, well, Jenny was curious, telling herself she was just going to be an observer.

            Jenny rarely drank alcohol and had never had more than one in a sitting before that night. But she had downed two wine coolers before they even had left Trixie’s apartment. She was buzzed and kind of liked it. She also felt quite sexy for a clown.

            By the time they stopped at a third bar, Jenny was feeling no pain. She was also starting to feel no coordination, and before they exited Roxy’s car, she ditched the three inch heels for her own flats.

            Guys were hitting on her left and right! But she just giggled and replied ‘no thanks’ to offers of drinks or dance. Trixie playfully rebuked her. “Honey, when you dress hot, guys tend to want to keep you cool.”

            “What do you mean?” Jenny asked naively.

            Trixie emitted a throaty laugh. “I mean you drink for free.”

            “Check it out, Jimmy Stetson just came in,” Skippy declared as she pointed to three guys who came in together and sat at the bar.

            “He’s just a tease,” Roxy lamented. This comment made Jenny frown. She had only ever heard of girls labeled teases.

            “Tell me about it,” Skippy lamented. “I practically told him I wanted to go to bed with him and he blew me off.”

            “I guess all three of us have struck out with him in one way or another,” Trixie said.

            “Not many guys in the bar scene are out of our league,” Skippy drawled. “But Jimmy Stetson’s in a league of his own.”

            “Now don’t give him so much credit,” Trixie differed. “He’s just a hot construction worker, not some millionaire playboy.”

            “Maybe so,” Skippy said. “But I’ll make out with a Sting look alike any day.”

            “I think he looks more like a modern James Dean,” Roxy differed. “All cool and brooding.”

            “I say he looks like MacGyver,” Trixie added, then turned to Jenny. “What do you think?”

            “I agree with Trixie, when I knew him he always reminded me of MacGyver.”

            All three stopped with drinks half way to their mouths. Skippy asked, “What do you mean when you knew him?”

            Jenny shrugged. “Jimmy and I shared a lab table in science our senior year of high school.”

            “Go say ‘hi’ to him then,” Skippy challenged, seeming a bit jealous.

            Roxy pointed at Trixie, Skippy and then herself. “One, two, three strikes, we struck out.” Then she challenged. “Batter up!”

            If Jenny hadn’t been so buzzed, she would have sunk down in her chair, or maybe even have fled. On the other hand, she never would have admitted knowing Jimmy if she had been sober. But with her inhibitions down, she boldly arose and went to her former classmate and immediately teased him about a little accident he had. “Hey big fella, break any beakers lately?”

            He squinted at her with a smirk as his brain processed who the woman in front of him was. Then he grinned, “Jenny Oakley?”

            “One and the same,” she said a little drunkenly as she spread her arms.

            “I beg to differ,” he replied.

            She frowned. “What do you mean?”

            “You’re not the same Jenny I remember.”

            Understanding his implication, she cocked a hip, put a hand on it, and flipped her hair with her other hand. “You like my new look.”

            He turned to fully face her on his bar stool and folded his arms. “No offense, but I liked the old Jenny better.”

            Her face held a dumbfounded look as she gazed at him. He laughed. “Sorry, that was cold. I had few beers before we got here, it must have given me diarrhea of the mouth.”

            “No, that’s okay,” she giggled and actually touched his arm. “Would you mind telling me why? Just tonight with this little experiment, I’ve had more guys, um, checking me out, than I ever have before in my whole life. So I find it a little puzzling that you preferred the old me, so to speak.”

            “Believe it or not, I prefer a pretty girl who dresses wholesome. Keeps a guy guessing.”

            Jenny’s buzzed brain had trouble comprehending. She didn’t mean to make audible her thought. “Me pretty?”

            “Yes, you pretty,” he grinned.

            Despite the effects of adult beverage, she now blushed. Jenny had always felt filled with not quite. Her sandy hair was not quite blonde. Her gray eyes were not quite blue. Her eyes were not quite good enough to avoid glasses. Her teeth were not quite straight enough to avoid braces. Her grades were not quite an A average. Never interviewed quite well enough to get a good job.

            “So you don’t typically dress like this?” he asked.

            “No, never, I mean until now, you know tonight,” she pointed at her girlfriend’s table. The three were staring but looked away as soon as Jimmy’s gaze turned on them. “Trixie talked me into it.”

            “Oh yeah, how come?”

            Inhibitions loosened her tongue some more. “My boyfriend of almost two years dumped me for someone else a couple months ago. A few weeks ago he pleaded with me to take him back, saying he made a big mistake. I gave in and took him back. Long story short, a couple days ago, not even a month into our reunion, he tells me he and his wench got back together.

            “So, at work. Trixie and I are both waitresses at Grandma Em’s Diner. I was crying on Trixie’s shoulder about being played, or whatever it was he pulled… By the way, I wasn’t literally crying on her shoulder, it was ah, um, what do you call it?”

            “A figure of speech.”

            “Yes, a figure of speech. So Trixie convinced me that the best medicine would be a fun girl’s night out. Then before we left her place, she talked me into wearing some of her clothes.”

            “So you’ve never dressed like a stripper before?” he asked bluntly, almost insultingly.

            “No, never,” she said wide eyed. “As a matter of fact, I was wearing her shoes with three inch heels, but I put back on my own shoes that have none.”

            She kicked up a leg to reveal her low heeled pumps, and the shoe slipped off her foot and sailed off in an arch ten feet away. “Opps.”

            Jimmy retrieved the shoe. As he sat back down, he asked his buddy, “Don, will you slide down another stool so Jenny can sit down next to me?”

            “No problem,” Don grinned maliciously through a weeks’ worth of stubble and winked.

            “Sit down and give me your foot,” Jimmy ordered.

            Jenny obeyed with her eyes still wide and placed her foot on Jimmy’s lap. What happened next is why alcohol is called spirits. The more you use and abuse the substance, the more a being like Vermillion has a door open to tempt or even destroy a soul. Due to their inebriated state, coupled with lust and desire, my enemy’s work was made easy. I, on the other hand, was pretty much a helpless witness.

            Jenny was so enraptured by Jimmy holding both her foot and her shoe, she was oblivious to how high her already short skirt had hiked. I made her aware of his pause as he replaced her shoe on her foot, and she noticed where his eyes were transfixed. She wiggled on the stool as she worked her skirt back down to mid-thigh. Jimmy found this act of modesty in her immodest attire all the more alluring.

            “You must be Cinderella,” he grinned as the shoe fit.

            She giggled. “Then you must be my prince.”

            He kissed her and the table of three applauded. Their applause rippled into more clapping and cheers throughout the tavern. Jenny looked embarrassed, but Jimmy somehow looked both annoyed as well as amused. “Why can’t people mind their own business?”

            The night quickly became a blur. She vaguely remembered her and Jimmy stumbling into her apartment. She recalled their passion as if it was a dream. She with skin crawling remembers the morning quite well though. She was so nauseous she couldn’t make it to the bathroom and threw up in her garbage can. Thankfully, Jimmy had slipped out before she woke, so she at least didn’t have the embarrassment of him watching her hurl.

            Jimmy never called and Devin was back with the other woman. What should she do? Who sent the note? What did it matter? She read it again. Start where she was? She could change her ending?

            So start as single pregnant woman who was beyond broke with almost a thousand dollars debt on one of her credit cards and six hundred on another? Vermillion had her considering abortion, so I devised a plan of my own.

            Emma, the older lady that lived below Jenny on the ground floor, hated to impose on people. Let’s just say I persuaded her to call Jenny. “Hi Honey, I hate to bother you, but my brother is coming for supper tonight and I discovered I have a mouse nest in my little grill. With my recent hip replacement, I’m skittish about walking it down to the edge of the woods to get rid of it.”

            “Oh, Mrs. Vargus don’t you dare try to do that,” Jenny told her kindly. “It’s no problem at all. I’ll be right down.”

            Jenny gave a little squeal of surprise when she cleaned out the grill. She had expected the little pile of fluff to be empty. But as she dumped it at the edge of the woods, four hairless babies and the mother fell onto the ground. The mother began to hall her baby mice away one by one.

            Despite the monster a thousand times bigger a few feet away, the brave little creature came back for all four of her offspring, hiding each one safely, in her tiny mind, under some leaves. Jenny put a hand to her mouth and whimpered as tears flowed down her cheeks. “Lord, please forgive me for what I was considering. A mouse is a more devout mother than me.”

            She resolved to contact Devin Hart that very day. As a matter of fact she would call him as soon as she was done helping Mrs. Vargus. He did have a right to know he was likely going to be a father.

            She bit her lip. Likely! Why did she have to have that one night stand with Jimmy Stetson? That was so unlike her! Now she couldn’t be one hundred percent certain that the child was Devin’s, just mostly sure.

            “Hello?” A male voice droned over the phone line.

            “Hey Devin, it’s me,” Jenny said evenly. “We need to talk about something.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 28

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 28

SEVEN SALLIE

THERE IS A GOD IN HEAVEN WHO REVEALS SECRETS (Daniel 2:28)

            I had just opened my mouth to speak when a majestic voice from the heavens filled our ears. It was like the sound of rippling water, deep and melodious. There were a half dozen of us on the deck overlooking C. S. Lewis’s back yard. My companions all looked at me with surprise, as if the words had come from me. But then they turned to the sky, knowing that someone as puny as me could ever vocalize in that manner.

            “It is done!” the sky seemed to declare. But we all knew it was a fulfillment of Revelation 16:17 as the seventh and final plague fell. So none of us were surprised when verse eighteen was fulfilled moments later.

            Yet we were not afraid as the longest, loudest peels of thunder roared across the blue- charcoal gray sky. We gazed around in awe, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up and my skin prickle. Then lightening like nothing we had ever seen, a light show no earthly technology could ever duplicate strobed to and fro.  

            Then came the biggest earthquake in earth’s history. The trees began to sway and the ground trembled. The groaning of the earth made me think of the Jolly Green Giant with indigestion. We all gripped the sides of our chairs as if on an amusement park ride. Yet we were not afraid.

            Our faith was such that we knew we were protected. We were all on the archetypical Ark, if you please. So we were the opposite of afraid, we were in awe, even excited! We had preached the second coming of Jesus for years. Many accused us of crying wolf. Most trusted in their traditions rather than Bible truth. Most followed the teachings of man rather than studying the Word of God themselves like the noble Bereans (Acts 17:11).

            One man had told me a year or two earlier. “You’re waiting for a show that is never gonna happen. The Bible is mythology.”

            Well sir, the lights have just gone down, and the curtain is about to go up! 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 was on the verge of being fulfilled, and we had been exercising verse eighteen which instructed ‘Therefore comfort one another with these words.’

            We did this right up to the voice, the thunder, the lightning and the earthquake. Mostly by sharing testimonies. We heard one more only moments before the last plague fell. This one was more about enduring love rather than the sweetness of a beautiful dog playing matchmaker. The miracle of this enduring love is that neither of the two individuals knew they were inadvertently waiting for the other.

            Like Mick, Luke Daniels was the lead singer of a Christian band. Like Mick and Lindsey, Luke and Hannah’s romance began in full force after one of Luke’s shows.

            “My dad was career military, so we moved a lot,” Hannah said. She had long, nut-brown hair and large, doe like amber eyes. “What made it both better and worse for me was being an only child.”

            “What do you mean by better and worse?” Zella asked.

            “Are you skipping ahead to your wedding vows?” I asked with a little smile.

            Zella smirked at me as she gave me a sideways glance. “Do you think you’re funny?”

            “It was part of our vows.” I defended because I was indeed trying at a little humor, albeit unsuccessfully.

            “Hannah was referring to moving frequently and being an only child,” Zella explained to me as if I were a child. “She hadn’t even gotten to meeting Luke yet. Let alone marriage vows.”

            “Gotcha,” I replied feeling a little dumb. Trying to be funny is an odd thing. You feel brilliant when everyone laughs and like an idiot when it falls flat. “Sorry Hannah, please proceed.”

            “No problem, Seven,” she smiled. “What I meant by worse, was obviously not having a sibling to share and comfort with the anxiety of moving to new places and in particular new schools. What was better was learning to find comfort and solace in God. A friend that sticks closer than a brother, if you please (Proverbs 18:24).

            “When I was twelve, in anticipation of yet another move, I prayed like never before,” Hannah told us with such earnestness I perceived she was back in the moment, experiencing the emotions she felt back then. “The thing that made it extra worse this time was adolescence. It wasn’t very kind to me. I was gangly and clumsy. I had braces, glasses, and a bit of acne.

            “Whenever we moved, my parents tried to find a conservative, non-denominational church.  My dad got stationed in Georgia, and we moved into a small town ten miles from the base. He rented a house from a guy who in turn turned him on to his church, a place called Meadowvale Church of the Open Bible. That’s where I met Luke and his brother Matt for the first time.

            “I actually had a huge crush on Matt when we first started attending,” Hannah laughed. “He was fifteen, spiky blonde hair, blue eyes, and an amazing guitar and piano player. He gave lessons at the local music store.

            “Although younger, my age actually, Luke was out going and athletic. I guess you could say he was a more macho image of his older brother. They were both nice to me, but Luke intimidated me. My first impression was that he was the popular type. The type that often would tease and bully me.”

            A look of sadness came into her eyes. “I never understood why so many popular kids pick on the less fortunate. They seemingly had so much going for them, why did they have to make life more difficult for those that didn’t? I suppose it just proved that in reality they didn’t have so much going for them after all. It’s like their image was a facade and at heart they were every bit as insecure as those they picked on. Probably more so.”

            “Immaturity plays a role also,” Luke added.

            “We moved to Meadowvale in the middle of the summer,” Hannah continued. “So I had a few weeks to adjust before the start of sixth grade. And the adjustment was an answer to prayer. There were a couple other kids at the church that were our age. Luke and Matt’s cousin John and a spicey redhead named Cassidy. John’s brother Mark was Matt’s age, and the four cousins ended up forming a band together.

            “For the first time I started a new school with friends. Then I had an immediate hiccup. Two days into school, we were playing dodgeball in gym class. It was scary for me. Other schools didn’t play dodgeball, let alone using actual playground balls instead of nerfs.”

            “One of the benefits of a smaller community,” Luke interjected.

            “Some benefit,” Hannah added dryly. “Right off the bat I got hit in the forehead. My glasses went flying, and I stumbled and fell. But the worst part was the panic of embarrassment. I was sure I was gonna be laughed at. Also, if I wasn’t already classified a nerd, I would be now.

            “But I only heard a few snickers before Luke was by my side, putting an arm around me and asking if I was alright. He helped me up and retrieved my glasses. Unfortunately I wasn’t out, the boy who threw head high was. But then Luke told me to stay by him so he could protect me.”

            Hannah smiled fondly at Luke. “So, I wasn’t out, and my crush on Matt Daniels transferred to falling in love with Luke Daniels. And that love only grew as he and I, John and Cassidy became weekend pals, playing in the woods behind the church, going for horseback rides on the Daniels’ family farm, and my favorite, getting rides on Luke’s dirt bike motorcycle, where I got to hug Luke from behind, and hold him tight as we zipped up trails and down ravines.

            “But then two years after we moved to Meadowvale, my dad got transferred to Fort Hood Texas. I had never been so disappointed in life. Those two years in Meadowvale were the best years by far, until I met Luke again seven years later.”

            “You two didn’t keep in touch?” I asked before Zella could.

            “I tried,” Hannah said, giving her husband a scornful, yet playful look. “But Luke only responded a few times and I eventually gave up.”

            “What can I say, I was fourteen,” Luke shrugged. “But I gave her a sendoff that kept us subconsciously bound for all our years of separation.”

            I opened my mouth, but sound came out of my wife’s instead. “What kind of sendoff?”

            “They had a going away party at the church,” Hannah related happily. “Luke took me out to the woods and kissed me for the first time.”

            “Then a second, third, and fourth,” he laughed.

            “Those kisses sealed the deal for me,” Hannah said. “My time in Meadowvale must have given me confidence. The rest of my school career finished with very little harassment. I ended up going to a college in the Pacific northwest. I was a late bloomer and by then I was getting quite a bit of male attention, of which I mostly ignored.”

            “Because of Luke?” Zella interjected.

            “I think it was a couple things,” Hannah explained. “Mostly nobody ever came close to matching the popular preteen that wasn’t afraid to comfort a distraught nerdy girl after she was embarrassed. But then also, I became cynical. I mean, so many guys mocked and made fun of me as a girl. But then after I transformed into a, forgive me for sounding vain, an attractive woman, the same type of guys tried to charm and sweet talk me.

            “Anyway, let me get to meeting Luke again. The seven years in between are not all that fascinating. I studied a lot and socialized a little. But I did become good friends with a girl I met in Texas, where I finished high school. She went to a Christian college in Washington, so I tagged along.

            “We became friends with some other girls we met, but I usually stayed aloof from going out. They were good girls as far as that goes, but their primary interest was doing things where the opportunity to meet the opposite sex was prevalent.

            “So during our junior year this Christian rock tour was stopping by our campus. Mick’s band Cornerstone was going to be there, and so was Luke’s. I just didn’t know it at first. I didn’t even know Luke was in a band with his brother and two cousins. So when my girlfriends tried to get me to go, I initially declined.

            “Then three days before the show, I’m walking past my roommate’s dresser, and she has half a dozen C.D.’s sprawled out on top. One of them caught my eye. It was called ‘The Band of Daniels.’ And on the front were four guys who looked older but familiar.”

            “Obviously the name of our band was both a play of our name, combined with the book in the Bible,” Luke cut in. “And obviously we knew the famous stories. Daniel and the lion’s den, and Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace. But I didn’t understand the deep prophetic meeting of the book until we met Arlo Aldo several years ago.”

            Then he looked at his wife. “Sorry Hon, go ahead.”

            “Rhonda, my best friend from Texas and college roommate didn’t know that one of the C.D.’s she had was the guys I knew in Georgia. One in particular the boy I loved. The guy she had heard me talk about countless times as I reminisced about my glorious days in Meadowvale.

            “But I kept my mouth shut about knowing them, in particular Luke. I was a fourteen year old middle school student when I moved away. I was now a twenty-one year old premed student living clear across the country. I was sure I was no more than a distant memory.”

            “She couldn’t have been more wrong,” Luke said. “I mean, I did think I’d never see her again. But a distant memory? Far from it. She left an impression on my soul that would last a life time. I often felt no girl could fill the void she left in my life when she left. But I believe it was the Holy Spirt that caused her to brand my mind until we met up again. I think that’s why I was so picky when entertaining the possibility of the opposite sex.

            “Hannah’s sweetness and wholesomeness drew me in like a bear to honey. Plus she had the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen, and very kissable lips. The rest of her was just like she said ‘nerdy beyond compare.’”

            Hannah gave him a playful whap, and they both laughed.

            “You’ve heard of guilt by association?” Hannah asked.

            “Sure I have, “Zella replied. “I’ve experienced it time and again by being married to Seven.”

            They all laughed, but I held mine in so I could give my wife quality stink eye. She mouthed ‘sorry’ and I couldn’t help giving in to the smile I repressed.

            “Anyway, knowing the Daniels’ from church was like credibility by association. They were like the noble four guys in the Bible book of Daniel that their band was sort of named for. They set a precedent for our school. Bullying was pretty much nonexistent.”

            “Keep in mind it was a small school,” Luke said. “Only about forty in our graduating class.”

            “So we were standing outside in line for the concert,” Hannah continued. “I was feeling anxious about seeing Luke as well as my secret. Then I saw a fellow nerd from my Meadowvale days come out of a trailer pulling a black crate that had Matt Daniel’s name stamped in white. So I hollered, ‘Grant.’

            “He turned his head briefly, but assumed he wasn’t the Grant being called for by a female in line. After all he was two thousand miles away from Meadowvale. So I tried again using his last name, ‘Grant Sims.’

            “Then he stopped and looked my direction. I waved. He was, I don’t know, fifty feet away. He began to walk toward me and stopped ten feet away, squinted and put hands on his hips. ‘Hannah? Is that you?’

            “One and them same, I told him with a big smile. He took of his baseball cap and laughed. ‘Well, I’ll be.’ I went to him and we hugged. He reminded me of chubby Chet Morton from the old ‘Hard Boys’ series.

            He told us the guys were about to start sound check, and asked me and my girlfriends if we wanted back stage passes and to come watch. All three of my girlfriends stood with their mouths hanging open in disbelief.

            “Let me take Matt his extra guitars and I’ll get y’all back stage passes.”

            “My girlfriends looked at me like I had two heads. So I shrugged and explained that I knew the band when I was in middle school. None of them were ever prone to violence, but Rhonda grabbed me by the shoulders and scolded me for not telling them I knew the guys in ‘The Band of Daniels.’

            “It was general admission, so we got the best seats in the house. The band was in the midst of a song that would end up on their second CD. When they finished, I noticed Grant walk on stage and say something to Luke. His head whipped in our direction and my heart fluttered. Then it pounded when he moved in our direction, climbed up on a riser, put hands on the railing by where we were sitting and stared at me in disbelief.

            “I smiled and waved, then he grinned and vaulted the railing. As if on cue I stood. The cute boy who kissed seven years earlier was now a gorgeous man who hugged me tight to himself. Even after all those years I felt the love. I also felt eyes on me.

            “When we separated from our embrace, my three girlfriends were watching in incredulity. Three months later ‘The Band of Daniels’ finished their tour. Three weeks after that, Luke and I were married and my three girlfriends who witnessed our reunion were my three bridesmaids.”

            “Wow,” Zella said. “So the vast majority of your courtship happened when you were in middle school.”

            “It did,” Hannah giggled, shrugged. “But when you know you know.”

            “That’s the way it was with Zella and me. When we knew we knew.”

            “Welllllll,” Zella drawled with a wince, but then she laughed when I made a pout lip.

            I opened my mouth to speak, but another voice was heard. Something beyond human utterance. Followed by thunderings and lightenings like nothing we had ever seen!

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 27

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 27

SEVEN SALLIE

THEN JESUS SAID, “FATHER FORGIVE THEM FOR THEY DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY DO.” (Luke 23:34)

            “Jared, hi,” Lindsey said cheerfully and jumped up to greet a gentleman who had just arrived.

            “That was quite a story,” I told Mick Wadena. I had been a silent observer as my wife questioned him and his wife Lindsey about her dog playing match maker with the couple. Zella would later tease me about calling myself a silent observer. In my defense, TALK show hosts tend to talk, even when they are not on the air.

            “The miracle of Jitts bringing Lindsey and me together actually isn’t the most remarkable part of our story,” Mick told me, pointing to his wife and the guy she was now hugging.

            Lindsey and Mick had just finished telling us about their second meeting after Mick’s band finished their show in Madison, Wisconsin. That’s when a lone man made his way onto the deck that over looked C. S. Lewis’s back yard on a remote acreage, only a few miles from Lake Superior.

            The guy appeared to be about fifty, give or take, as with most of us on the deck. He had a shaved head, a sun weathered face, sunglasses, and a goatee with a light sprinkling of salt. He also was missing half of his left arm, and his left leg was a prosthetic.

            “Do you see that guy Lindsey is hugging?” Mick asked.

            Zella and I glanced at Lindsey embracing the lone man I had just described. “Yeah.”

            “That’s the guy that raped her sister.”

            “What?” Zella and I both replied, stunned. I recalled that because of her sister’s ordeal, Lana had ended up taking her own life. As a result, Lindsey developed a subtle vendetta against men. She also developed a not so subtle hatred of the man that violated her sister! So what happened that a rapist not only avoided the plagues, but was in an embrace with his victim’s sister? I asked as much to Mick.

            “Yeah, their friendship surprised me too,” Mick admitted. “Kind of ironic that he showed up when we were getting to his part of Lindsey’s and my story.”

            “Did he play a role with your, um, romance?” Zella asked with a frown.

            “Actually he turned out to be a major obstacle,” Mick explained. “I perceived early on as Lindsey and I got know each other that her hostility toward him was slowly eating her alive. After a few months of virtual dating, she…”
            “What do you mean by virtual dating?” Zella interrupted.

            “I don’t know if that’s the right way to put it,” Mick replied. “What I mean is, that after Lindsey and I initially met, I was in the middle of a nationwide tour for our second album. So most of our time spent together over the first few months was over the phone.”

            “Okay, I see,” Zella said. “How far apart did you two actually live from each other?”

            I shook my head a little at my wife. I wanted to hear about Lindsey forgiving her sister’s rapist, not geography. Later for sure, but not now. But Zella only frowned at me and continued, “I mean when you weren’t on tour, where did you call home? She mentioned being from Duluth.”

            “Milwaukee,” Mick said. “Three hundred plus miles, but it could have been worse.”

            “Why is that?” Zella asked and I shook my head some more.

            “Actually what was worse than the long distance relationship in the beginning, was our sports rivalry. Mainly she was a Vikings fan while I was for the Packers. Baseball wasn’t so bad since her team, the Twins is in the American League and mine, the Brewers, is in the National League.”

            “I notice you say was,” Zella said, and I just sighed and then chuckled to myself. I needed to exercise the patience of the saints.

            “Yeah, well, we still liked our teams, but the closer we got to Christ the less sports mattered. It turned out we actually enjoyed our teams more when we didn’t take it so seriously.”

            “Amen!” Zella smiled.

            “Now we’re on the verge,” I began, and Zella shook her head. Her wide brown eyes mocking me playfully. “We are on the verge of Christ’s return and sports seem to be a thing of the past. A shadow of our time on earth.”

            “True enough,” Mick agreed.

            “Games people more often than not took too seriously,” Zella added. “When I used to see fans in the stand with their hands earnestly clasped over a close game, I used to think ‘if they only sought the Lord with that sense of urgency.’”

            Lindsey returned, making our threesome a foursome. Mick inquired, “Where’d Jared go?”

            “He just stopped by to see how we were all doing,” Lindsey replied. “He’s on his way to check on a guy that’s from his disabled veterans group.”

            “Mick was just telling us about your long distance relationship,” Zella said.

            “And he was just about to tell us about you and Jared,” I interrupted.

            Zella smirked at me. I knew she wanted to know just as badly as I did. But she knew I struggled more with patience than she did.

            “Yeah, me and Jared,” Lindsey sighed and then looked fondly at her husband. “The subject of Jared almost ended Mick and me before we really got started.”

            “But not for the usual reason another man causes a hiccup with a couple falling in love,” Mick interjected.

            “Yeah,” Lindsey chuckled. “I guess it’s not typical for a boyfriend to tell his girlfriend to seek out another guy.”

            “Here’s the thing,” Mick said. “I tried to convince her that she didn’t have to see him in person. Just call him or even simply write him a letter. I emphatically told her that just because you forgive someone, it does not mean you have to have a relationship with them, or associate with them afterward in anyway. Forgiveness is actually more for yourself.”

            “I was so torn,” Lindsey said solemnly. “I was angry with Mick for making me feel guilty over my sister’s rapist of all people. But what saved our new relationship was he didn’t push it. He gave me time to think on it. But for two or three months, it impeded our progress in becoming close. I had heard that Jared was a wounded war veteran. But I didn’t know the extent. Do you remember me mentioning my girlfriend, Tina Janis?”

            Zella and I acknowledged that we did.

            “So her sister Taylor was a nurse in Minneapolis. All of my girlfriends knew I had a vendetta against Jared. So Taylor calls me and asks me to keep something between us because she didn’t want to get in trouble for violating any privacy policies. I couldn’t fathom what kind of conspiracy she was going to reveal. Part of me wanted to tell her ‘no thanks.’

            “Tina had been my best friend at one time, but her younger sister Taylor was a pest and a busybody. But my nosy side won out, and I told her I would keep whatever it was to myself. That’s when she told me Jared had been admitted the previous night over a suicide attempt. Her tone as she told me was one that expected me to be delighted. But I felt sick to my stomach.

            “I think I remained neutral in my response, and I did thank her,” Lindsey had a tear float from her eye, and she swiped it. “I remembered something Mick had told me about our human condition…”

            Mick gave her a few seconds to make sure she wanted him to speak. Then he said, “I told her we humans are vessels that are either controlled by Satan or God at every moment. I had quoted C. S. Lewis where he said… By the way, I mean Clive Staples Lewis, the author, not Charles Scott Lewis, our friend that lives here.

            “Anyway to quote the author, ‘There is no neutral ground in the universe. Every square inch, every split second is claimed by God and counterclaimed by Satan.’”

            “And that was forefront on my mind when Taylor told me about Jared,” Lindsey said, having composed herself for the moment. “That and his suicide attempt. I actually felt bad for him. For the first time. When I heard he had been badly wounded about a year before, back then I thought good he deserved it. But after meeting Mick, I began to read the Bible again.

            “After my sister’s demise, which I did blame Jared for, I often thought about the mental, spiritual state of victims of their own hand. I have been at some pretty dark places in my life. I’ve had countless bouts of depression. But I never got so low that I considered ending my life. So this gave me perspective. What must that immense darkness be like? I didn’t want to know. But that reality gave me empathy for even, dare I say it, for Jared.”

            Lindsey stared off into the distance. Her breathing became rapid and a couple tears leaked from her eyes. She turned to Mick. “Honey, you know the story almost as well as I do. Will you finish telling the Sallie’s? I’m getting a headache.”

            “You bet,” he replied, as Lindsey stood and walked quickly toward the house. After watching her go, he said, “Knowing it almost as well as she does is a stretch. But you have to understand. Her testimony about forgiveness is powerful. But more often than not, it zaps her emotionally. What with seeing Jared just now, it doesn’t surprise me that she wasn’t in a good place to share how her change of attitude came about.”

            “It’s understandable,” Zella said. “I noticed she watched him as he limped away.”

            Mick nodded. “So, she went to see him in the hospital. She wasn’t sure if she could muster the compassion she needed to forgive him. As she made her way through the hospital, she prayed and quoted scripture to herself. Still she had a supreme battle with self and the hostility she felt. Then she saw him.

            “He wasn’t the handsome all-American teenager she remembered. Although on the later side of his mid-twenties, he looked war weary and twenty years older than his actual age. He wasn’t long out of high school when 9/11 happened. He joined the Marines and served in both Afghanistan and Iraq. Three tours of duty in all, and on the last one he had a devastating encounter with a road side bomb.

            “He was drugged and a bit delirious when she saw him. When he saw Lindsey, he called her Lana and began crying and apologizing. He said he loved her and thought she loved him. She let him blubber for quite a while, then he fell asleep. She left him a note saying she was Lindsey and that she forgave him.

            “She left the hospital feeling both lighter for having gone through with it, yet sick at how broken such a young human being was. She hoped that was the end of it. But she didn’t realize during the stress of the meeting that she had written her phone number on the note she gave him.

            “He called her a few weeks later. They met for coffee and spent a long time talking. Lindsey saw how remorseful he was about Lana’s fragility and the role he played in her demise. He said he felt like a pervert due to his sin. He wanted to do something noble by joining the Marines. This aspect played as big of a role as patriotism had in his motivation to join.

            “Something else occurred to her that she had always purposely overlooked. Although no means no, no matter what! The young, immature couple had been participating in foreplay for a lengthy period of time. Then on the verge of consummation, Lana wanted to stop. As wrong as his actions were, it didn’t seem the same as if he had drugged her or was some guy that yanked her off the street and into some bushes.

            “The thing is, Jared didn’t truly feel forgiven by just reading the note Lindsey left in the hospital. Lindsey’s nurse friend told her that when Jared woke up in the hospital and discovered he was still alive, he was out of control angry. That’s why he was sedated when Lindsey visited him.

            “Lindsey found out later that when Jared called her, he had a phone in one hand and a gun in the other. Like Lana, he had been sort of considering others when he had taken an overdose of pills, only to have his stomach pumped. Also like Lana, he was gonna make sure with round two, regardless of the gory mess. He had made up his mind on a direction. If Lindsey agreed to get together, he would postpone his death so he could apologize in person. If she  wouldn’t see him in person, he was prepared to say a permanent goodnight to the world.”

            “So what changed Lindsey’s attitude that actually made her and Jared friends?” I asked. “I mean it seems one of the main things you said to convince her to forgive, was that forgiveness didn’t mean a relationship.”

            “When I noticed she was having regular contact with Jared, I asked her why. She said Jared asked about her faith, because he was surprised at the love she was showing him. He ended up giving his life to Christ, rather than ending it. She said she saw that he was a new creature (2 Corinthians 5:17). He wasn’t the same person that date raped her sister. Behold, all things were new. ”

            “Amazing grace!” Zella said.

            “Amen, Sister Wife!” I added, and Mick arched an eyebrow.

            “Sister Wife, I like that,” he grinned. Then he added with a look of awe on his countenance. “She also shared another C. S. Lewis quote that moved him like nothing else. Especially coming from Lana’s sister. ‘You can’t go back and change the beginning. But you can start where you are and change the ending.’”

            “I love that,” Zella said.

            “It just goes to show you the ripple effect of good and evil,” Mick continued. “Because of how Lindsey forgave and then ministered to this one soul, he in turn has ministered to countless other fellow veterans.”

            “And all that hung in the balance with that one call,” I said. “A phone in one hand and a gun in the other. We often don’t realize how often life is only a matter of inches.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 26

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 26

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

CAN YOU SEARCH OUT THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD? CAN YOU FIND OUT THE LIMITS OF THE ALMIGHTY? (Job 11:7)

            “Back up,” I petitioned Mick. “Didn’t that scare the daylights out of you to suddenly see a dog rushing toward you when you lifted your head?”

            “Sure it did,” he shrugged. “But it all happened so fast. Kind of like a close call in traffic. But after the first couple seconds, I could tell Jitts wasn’t mean.”

            Mick had just expressed reeling emotions after he had been praying in a remote area of some woods. He specifically had been praying for a Godly companion who could possibly be his future wife. As he was concluding his prayer, he was startled at movement to his right. It was a dog of German Shepard decent galloping toward him.

            “Self-preservation instinct produced a healthy shot of adrenaline through my system,” he continued. “But as I began to take a protective position, the canine slowed and I noticed the tail vigorously swaying back and forth. Also, rather than barking or growling Jitts was whining excitedly. He also seemed to be smiling.

            “So instead of exercising fight or flight, I greeted the fury creature. I accepted an invitation to pet and scratch the animal as he lay in front of me and exposed his belly. I remember his right front paw dangled to allow room for my hand to perform ministrations of doggie delight. Then all of a sudden this stunning vixen came charging up the trail hollering ‘Jitt’s!’

            “She stopped in her tracks, wide eyed and mouth gaping when she saw her dog and me. Her face looked like Bigfoot had just stepped out onto the trail in front of her. Her red-gold hair was pulled back tight against her scalp into a ponytail. I took in her black spandex which seemed to be painted on. So I averted my eyes back to the dog and frowned. My mind asked, “Is this an answer to what I had just been praying about?”

            “Time out,” Lindsey said. “Painted on? They were running shorts with top. Standard attire for women who run.”

            “And standard intrigue for guys who lust.”

             “Sounds like a guy problem.”

            “I suppose it depends on the guy as to whether it’s a problem or not. Anyway, I disciplined my eyes to stay above her neck and…

            “Gimme a break,” Lindsey interrupted again with a roll of her eyes.

            “Break me off a piece of that Kit Kat bar,” Mick sang.

            Lindsey and I laughed. Then she ordered, “Just tell the story. But I will make corrections if needed.”

            “Fair enough, so our dialogue went something like this. I said, “Hi.”

            “Hi,” she replied quickly, spitting out the greeting as if it tasted bad in her mouth.

            “I seem to have met your dog,” I said.

            “So I see,” she replied, crossing her arms abruptly and scowling, as if I had called Jitts away from her. But I thought she had called him Jet and said as much.

            “Oh, no, it’s Jitts. Actually Jitterbug. I call him Jitts for short,” she replied, losing her stern demeanor.

            “Jitterbug? That’s an interesting name.”

            “He’s a rescue dog,” she explained. “He shook uncontrollably when I first got him and, I don’t know, I just started calling him Jitterbug, then Jitts.”

            “I see.”

            “Were you praying?” she asked, almost like an accusation.

            “It was not like an accusation,” Lindsey added.

            “I acknowledged I was and she asked, ‘do you pray often?’”

            “Every day, multiple times a day. Do you pray?”

            “Not so much lately,” she confessed, taking a few steps toward me. Those painted on shorts were at head level and only three feet away, so I stood abruptly, my carnal nature protesting and Jitts hopped up with me and went next to his master. She unconsciously put a hand to her dog’s head. “By the way, I’m terribly sorry.”

            “For what?” I asked innocently.

            She laughed. “For my dog charging at you like a lunatic.”

            “Oh, that’s okay. I could tell right away he was friendly.”

            “I let him off his leash because he has never gone after anyone until now.”

            “Well, it’s an honor to be his first.”

            “Did Jitts ever chase after anyone again?” I interrupted.

            “No, but I was more careful going forward,” Lindsey explained and then looked at her husband as if for permission to take over telling the story. He gave a go ahead nod and she continued. “But I think Jitts running up to Mick was, this may sound silly, but I believe it was supernaturally inspired.”

            “That’s not silly,” I reassured. “Mick prayed and God answered using a dog.”

            “Happens every day,” Mick joked.

            “The thing is,” Lindsey said with a look of awe and reverence on her countenance. “If God hadn’t used Jitts to bring Mick and me together, I would never have known Mick wasn’t, what’s the word I’m looking for?”

            “A psychopath?” Mick interjected with an arched eyebrow.

            “No, silly,” she said, slapping his knee. “I would have never known you were worthy.”

            “And Jitts’ adoration of you let me know that you were worthy,” Mick added.

            “Fair enough,” Lindsey said with a satisfied smile. But then she scowled. “Even if I was wearing painted on clothes.”

            “I wasn’t implying you didn’t look good in them. As a matter of fact, after we married there was nothing I liked more than seeing you scantily clad.”

            “Scantily clad? I…”

            “So what happened next?” I interrupted, hoping to direct them away from their differing perspectives on attire.

            “Perceiving that he was a deeply spiritual man, thanks to Jitts,” Lindsey said. “I began to ask him about his faith and then admitted that I was struggling with mine. Which was an understatement. Then he shared the ‘He that began a good work in you’ verse (Philippians 1:6). I felt compelled to tell him about my sister, but I was torn. Part of me wanted to flee, frightened of my attraction, and another part of me would have married him on the spot.”

            “All because Jitts took to him, you would have married him on the spot?” I asked with a playful smile.

            “I do exaggerate a little, but Jitts was the biggest part of my feeling drawn to him to be sure,” she admitted. “But he also was very attractive. And I don’t mean just physically. It was like there was a light in his eyes, and a gentleness in his demeanor, but also a strength in his character.”

            Lindsey looked at her husband, so I did as well. He looked a little embarrassed. I probably didn’t help by asking, “So what about you, big fella? Would you have married her on the spot?”

            “No,” he blurted, and they both started laughing, so I joined their mirth. Then he explained. “I say no only because my head was spinning. I mean think about it. I pray for a potential wife and, forgive me if this is an improper term, a goddess just shows up in a remote part of a forest the very moment I had been praying for something of that ilk.”

            “Then my friend unintentionally ruined the fairy tale,” Lindsey said and smiled wanly. Then she shrugged. “She was actually trying to help pair me up with Mick, but in the moment of my fickle emotions, I took it as a sign to flee from him.”

            “It was an odd couple days for both of us,” Mick interjected. “She had talked about her floundering faith during our brief conversation. So it never occurred to me that she would show up at a Christian concert an hour away from where we had met the previous day.”

            “There were four bands in total,” Lindsey took over. “But Mick’s band was the special guest of the headliner. Because my friend had an in with the headliner, we had excellent first balcony seats. There were, I don’t know, four or five thousand at the show. So it wasn’t like the Stones or Taylor Swift, but still a lot of people. And we were so close, I could have spit on a band member when they came to the left side of their stage.”

            “And that’s how we met a second time,” Mick said. “She spit on me.”

            He said this with such a straight face, I frowned and said, “Really?”

            “No,” Lindsey replied as they both laughed.

            “Obviously you two re-met at the show, so how did that come about?” I asked.

            “The first two bands just seemed loud to me,” Lindsey said. “I was more soft rock or country. Thankfully they only played twenty or thirty minutes. When they were almost done setting up for Cornerstone, which was Mick’s band, a girlfriend leans in and says, “These next guys will be a lot better and play for about an hour.”

            “An hour! I thought. I began to analyze my options. The best thing I could come with is saying I didn’t feel well and have my aunt come get me. We were crashing at her place that night anyway. I was just about to tell my girlfriends that I was gonna leave. But the lights went down and a roar went up. The crowds reaction was way more enthusiastic than for the previous two bands. So I figured I would give them a chance.

            “When the band seemed to explode onto the stage, I was beyond surprised when the lead singer looked familiar. It was the guy Jitts charged in the woods! Tina Janis, the girlfriend that was with me in the woods, leaned forward and looked at me with pure astonishment. Both of our mouths hung open. You could have pushed me over with a feather.

            “There was another girlfriend, Heather Johnson, in between us, and she looked back and forth at us with a puzzled expression. She was also annoyed because we were interfering with her observance of the performance. Then Tina said something into her ear and Heather looked at me with a frown and mouthed, “Really?”

            “I shrugged and then kept my eyes glued on Mick for most of their set. Their music was heavier than I prefer at first. But then it turned out that they had some mellower songs that I really, really liked. One song in particular had me as stunned as when I first saw Mick come onto the stage. The song spoke to me about coming back to God and having a closer walk with Jesus.

            “I had heard the song numerous times when I tuned into Christian radio. The song both drew me in, but sometimes frustrated me, depending on my mood. Sometimes I would listen to it and weep, longing for my broken relationship with Jesus to heal. It made me long for the peace I felt as a little girl as we left church. But another side would make me feel so guilty for my spiritual neglect and rebellion. Yet I never turned it off.

            “Now, here I was listening to it live. The singer only about thirty feet away. The singer was the dream guy I had met the previous day. The singer was the only guy, only person actually, that Jitts ever had charged up to happily.

            “I was wearing a baseball cap with my ponytail laced through the back. I pulled it down low so my friends couldn’t see my watery eyes. Because we were so close I was also afraid Mick would recognize me. Ironic since I had went looking for him the previous day.

            “But what was I gonna do with somebody who was something like a rock star, albeit a Christian one? Plus, I was pretty sure he wasn’t from the Duluth area. Shoot, I wasn’t even sure if the attraction was mutual. All I knew was that I was infatuated with him. He probably thought I was a careless, irresponsible fool who just let her unruly dog run wild.”

            “The truth was,” Mick took over. “The attraction was indeed mutual. But I had moved on already and had her out of my mind by morning. I fancied myself a realist. God doesn’t always answer prayers instantly. By her showing up like that, dressed with not much to leave to the imagination, and espousing lack of faith. Well, I figured Satan might just be trying to trick me. You know like the warning from Proverbs about avoiding the immoral woman.”

            “Thanks a lot!” Lindsey responded, giving him a light slug on his upper arm.

            “So if you tried to hide by pulling your hat low,” I asked. “What happened that you ended up meeting again?”

            “Because Heather’s cousin was H. R. Puffin, the headliner, we had acquired back stage passes,” Lindsey said. “But it turned out to be a little frustrating. I didn’t see Mick or any of his band mates anywhere. Then Puffin himself flirted with me.”

            Lindsey shook her head, laughed and covered her face with a hand.

            “What’s so funny?” I asked, grinning.

            “She hurt Puffin’s ego,” Mick said matter of fact.

            “Even though he was supposed to be a Christian, he apparently was used to women admiring him, not asking him about another one of the lesser stars,” Lindsey explained.

            “You asked him where Mick was?” I asked.

            “I did. Right after he asked if I would like to go somewhere private and talk.”

            “Did he help you?”

            “I’ve got to hand it to him, he did. Although begrudgingly. He said Cornerstone were still out in the arena at their merch table, signing autographs and talking to fans.”

            “What’s a merch table?” I asked, being unfamiliar with concerts.

            “Merch is short for merchandize,” Mick answered. “It’s an area where bands sell shirts, posters, stickers, C.D.’s, and such.”

            “Puffin made a point of telling me he didn’t go to his merch table because he would be there for hours. Anyway, I went back out into the arena. I saw there were still a couple dozen people in line to meet the band. I bought one of their C.D.’s and joined the end of the line to get it signed.

            “I noticed they asked the name of the person they were signing an autograph for. So then they would write ‘To so and so’ before they signed their name…”

            Lindsey started laughing, so Mick finished. “She says to me, my dog is a big fan of yours, could you make this out to Jitts?”

            “I looked up at her in utter astonishment as she took her hat off and grinned at me… You could have knocked me over with a feather!”

(Writer’s note: My stories have sometimes been motivated by music, and I’ve always wanted to implement songs into a story. So I’m doing a little experiment if you are interested in playing along. Not doing so will in no way take away from the story itself.

            So here’s a little supplement to today’s edition. The song I had in mind that moved Lindsey during Mick’s show was a song by the band ‘Kutless’ called ‘Run.’ If you listen to Christian radio, you might recognize it. It was especially played several years ago. It can be easily found on YouTube.)

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 25

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 25

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

THE END OF A THING IS BETTER THAN ITS BEGINNING. THE PATIENT IN SPIRIT IS BETTER THAN THE PROUD IN SPIRIT. (Ecclesiastes 7:8)

            As several of us sat on the deck, Lindsey Wadena had just shown me a picture on her phone of the very meeting between her and her husband. She had said a dog had played match maker between them. I had witnessed something similar myself with Willa Waconia and Billy Bob Booker. The parallel between Lindsey and Mick’s romantic account and the one I witnessed several years ago had my curiosity at a peek.

            A friend of Lindsey’s had taken the photo when she witnessed her asexual gal pal chatting it up with a bare chested young stud. Standing beside her, gazing fondly up at Mick was a German Shepard mix. His name was Jitterbug.

            “He was such a scared little boy when I first got him,” Lindsey explained. “He was only about six months old and would just start trembling for no apparent reason. A friend of mine rescued him from a horrible situation. He was undernourished and had been abused. My friend already had five dogs, so I took him in.

            “He was called Nacho when I first got him. But as I spoke softly to him and nurtured him, I would say ‘aren’t you just a little jitterbug.’ I didn’t really care for the name Nacho; it just didn’t seem to fit him. Then a girlfriend suggested I call him Jitterbug, and then I started calling him Jitts for short.

            “It didn’t take too long for his trembling to go away. But I began to notice a pattern with him. Every time a guy came around he would hide and start trembling again. This didn’t happen very often. I didn’t have a boyfriend and I seldom dated. So it was usually my dad or my brother.”

            As a woman of around fifty, Lindsey was certainly nice looking. But the photo she showed me in her mid-twenties revealed an absolute knock out. She also looked like she stepped out of a fitness magazine in her spandex shorts and sports bra. So I had to ask, “So, you just weren’t interested in romance?”

            “Yes and no,” she replied. Then her large almond shaped eyes looked sad. “I had my own tragedy when I was a teenager. Maybe that’s why Jitts and I bonded so well.”

            “Were you abused?” I asked softly, cautiously.

            She shook her head and I noticed her jaw tighten. “When I was thirteen and my sister Lana was sixteen, she was date raped.”

            “Oh no!” I couldn’t help blurting.

            She bowed her head and nodded. “It was horrible. What made it worse was I had such a major crush on her boyfriend.”

            There was an awkward silence for a long moment. Selfishly I felt disappointed. For I was desiring a heartwarming story similar to the one I experienced with my dog Free, not an ugly recount of an innocent girl defiled by unbridled lust.

            “Three months after the ordeal,” Lindsey continued. “Lana swallowed all of her antidepressant medications and some sleeping pills. Her stomach was pumped and she spent a few weeks in a psychiatric unit of a hospital. The very day she was released, she slit her wrists in the bath tub. This time she didn’t survive.”

            “I’m so, so sorry,” I told her. She nodded and as she wiped at a tear. It struck me that even after all these years, the pain of her sister’s torment and death lurked just beneath the surface of her soul. How many such people have we encountered, unaware of the pain they keep hidden. It was a lesson for me about being kind to everyone we meet, despite any sour dispositions they may have.

            “I’m sorry as well, for that depressing little antidote,” Lindsey said, forcing a smile. “But I guess I needed to tell the back story of Jitts and me, and how he ended up unwittingly setting me up with Mick.”

            Lindsey showed me another picture. This one was of a teenage girl and a dog that looked similar to Jitts. The teenage girl also looked similar to Lindsey. But she wasn’t the striking beauty Lindsey was in the first photo she showed me of her, Mick and Jitts. Lana looked wholesome in a long dress with her hair pulled back, grinning from ear to ear with a crooked tooth smile.

            “I love her big grin in this pic,” Lindsey said with a sentimental smile. “Lana was bi-polar. She was also painfully shy and timid, yet sometimes she could be volatile and angry. But Yoda brought her out of her shell like no one else could.”

            “Yoda?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

            “Our brother was a huge Star Wars fan,” she laughed. “When he suggested Yoda, Lana thought it was a good fit. You can see there was another reason I fell in love with Jitts.”

            “Yeah, they look like they came from the same litter,” I commented.

            “Anyway, I was leery of guys, I guess because of what happened to Lana. Jitts didn’t like guys and was afraid of them. So I developed a personal rule. If Jitts didn’t like a guy and hid, I wouldn’t continue to go out with him. This rule proved to be somewhat unreasonable. I didn’t realize Jitts would cower from virtually every guy he came across. The only guy that won him over was my brother, and he is not the macho type at all.

            “So when I met Mick, I was twenty-two. I’d had Jitts for about four years and had zero love life. Come to think of it, maybe Jitts wanted me all to himself,” she laughed. “Until he invited Mick into my life that is.”

            Mick must have been overhearing our conversation because he interjected. “I don’t know about that. Every time we sat next to each other, he nosed in between us.”

            “Yeah, but then what happened a few months in?” Lindsey replied with a disapproving, yet light hearted gaze.

            “Whatever do you mean?” Mick responded innocently.

            She chuckled and looked at me. “I mean that a few months in, Jitts turned his primary affections onto Mick. He followed him wherever he went. He stopped nosing between us and just crawled onto Mick’s lap.”

            “The big lug,” Mick laughed. “Seventy five pounds isn’t exactly a lap dog.”

            “So how did Jitts play match maker?” I asked eagerly.

            “A friend of mine had this cousin that was a pretty famous Christian rock rapper. His stage name is H. R. Puffin.”

            “I’ve heard of him,” I interjected.

            “So she, me and two other girlfriends were going to his show in Madison, Wisconsin. Mick’s band turned out to be Puffin’s special guest on the tour. My friends and I all lived in Duluth at the time. I wasn’t into the concert at all. I didn’t know or necessarily like Puffin’s music or big crowds. But we were gonna camp at Devil’s Head the day before, and rock climb and hike. Nature was what I was really into! Plus I had an aunt that lived near Madison, and she was willing to watch Jitts while we went to the show. So I agreed to go on the trip.

            “So we were at Devil’s Head the day before the show. One of my girlfriends and I went for a run and Jitts came with us. We had just run some hills and was walking to catch our breath.  Then Jitts just up and runs off like a flash.

            “There was a shirtless guy kneeling in front of a log. His elbows were on top of the log and doubled fists were on his forehead. It seemed he was praying. It also seemed that Jitts was charging toward him. Jitts never approached anyone, male or female. But like I said, especially male. That’s why I was comfortable not having him on a leash.

            “I felt a surge of panic! This was so out of character for Jitts. I chased after him and called. But he kept going. I thought for sure he was gonna lunge with bared teeth. I called and called. The man, who turned out to be Mick, raised his head and looked with surprise at my charging dog.

            “But then Jitts slowed and I could not believe what I saw. His tail was wagging as hard as I had ever seen it. Then Jitts surprised me even further. He prostrated himself at Mick’s feet. Well, actually his knees.

            “So I come running up ready to pull my suddenly vicious dog off of the man. But Jitts was squirming and whining excitedly, his tail thumping on the ground. Mick was grinning and petting him and telling him what a good boy he was. I must have stared for the longest time, unable to comprehend what I was witnessing.”

            “It wasn’t even a minute,” Mick interjected with a chuckle. “But it turned out to be an answer to prayer, I just didn’t know it at the time.”

            “He had been praying for me,” Lindsey said happily.

            “But you didn’t even know her, right?” I asked with a frown.

            “I didn’t, and even after our encounter that day, I didn’t know who I was praying for.”

            “You’re losing me,” I replied with a questioning smile.

            Mick chuckled. “Let me back up. There were four of us in the band called Cornerstone. We all grew up together, went to Christian school together. We were all the real deal. By that I mean devout and serious about our faith. The four of us were tight and made a pact of celibacy until married. So two of us married high school sweethearts the year after we graduated.

            “The week before I met Lindsey, our guitar player, Matt, got married. We were all only in our early twenties, yet I was now the only unmarried one in the band. I wasn’t jealous, yet I really wanted to find a mate more than ever. Being in the position I was, especially as lead singer, I had scores of female admirers. But just like Lindsey had her reasons for being leery of guys, I was leery of gals that were smitten because I was in a popular band.

            “I mean, we weren’t a household name by any stretch. But on the Christian rock scene, we were becoming a pretty big deal. And as our fame spread, it seemed it was going to be harder and harder to meet that special someone, as strange as that may sound. It was ironic since I met countless attractive females at every show. But yet I had it in my head that a woman I met at a Cornerstone show was only interested in Mick the singer, not the person.”

            “But then Mick and I met a second time at his show the next night,” Lindsey laughed. “So he ended up marrying a woman he met at one of his shows after all.”

            “Not fair, we met in the woods, and Jitts introduced us.”

            “True enough, but we did go our separate ways in a matter of minutes, figuring we’d never see each other again.”

            “So out in the woods where you met, how long was your dialogue and what did you say to each other?” I asked.

            “First I said I was sorry about Jitts charging up to him,” Lindsey laughed.

            “Then she asked me if I had been praying and I acknowledged that I had.”

            “Then we just stared at each other for a long time.”

            “It was probably only twenty or thirty seconds,” Mick laughed.

            “It’s hard to tell because it sure felt like several minutes.”

            “But we were both dumbfounded. Me because I had just been praying that God would help me find a soulmate. And she because Jitts rarely took to guys.”

            “Try never,” Lindsey corrected.

            “What about your brother?”

            “He had to win him over after a few encounters. Until you, he never took to a guy right off the bat. Anyway, we started talking about spiritual things. I felt compelled to tell him about my struggles with faith, my rebellion toward God.

            “I remember he shared the verse ‘he that has begun a good work in you will complete it’ (Philippians 1:6). I had such a strange tug of war going on inside of me. I had never been so drawn to a guy in my life! Yet I had so conditioned myself toward asexuality, that this other part of my brain was screaming, get away from him!”

            “And you did,” Mick laughed.

            Lindsey looked at Mick and then back at me. “My girlfriend, God bless her, was trying to assist Jitts in setting me up with Mick. After he and I had been talking for five or ten minutes, she sidled up next to me and said she was going back to our camper and that I should take my time. But I used her interruption as both a sign and an excuse to get away from the hot guy.”

            “She meant temperature by hot,” Mick said. “It was about ninety degrees and humid.”

            “I wasn’t talking temperature at all,” she responded with a coy smile. “He looked good with no shirt. But on the other hand, I was a little put off that he didn’t put his shirt on as we talked.”

            “But I didn’t have one with me,” Mick defended. “It was back at my campsite.”

            “I may have gotten away from him as fast as I could,” Lindsey continued. “But I could not get him out of my mind. Who was he? I didn’t even get his name. Where did he live? What was it about him that drew Jitts to him? How could that even be?

            “As I took a shower back at the camper, I almost fell down kicking myself in the behind. What was I thinking blowing off the closest thing to a perfect man I ever had encountered! I dried off and went looking for him, got super sweaty in the process, which negated the shower I had taken. But it was to no avail, I didn’t see him. I was so disappointed.”

            “I too was disappointed,” Mick added. “I had literally just prayed that God would put the woman of HIS choice into my life. Then this happy dog nudges me out of my reverence. I says to the dog, ‘well hi fella, but you’re not what I had in mind when I was praying.’ Then I look up and see Lindsey running toward us, calling Jitts. Then I said to him, ‘but she just might be!’

            “But then after several minutes talking with her, she bolted like she was just called to put out a fire. I kept an eye out for her the rest of the day, but to no avail. I was so disappointed to be teased like that. I tried not to have a complaining attitude, but I prayed again, simply asking, ‘Lord why put that intriguing woman in front of me, only to have her walk away?’

            “After praying I grabbed my Bible. I like to randomly open it and see what my eyes hit on first that I had previously underlined. That night my eyes landed on Psalm 27:14. ‘Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart. Wait, I say, on the Lord!’

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 24

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 24

SEVEN SALLIE

GOD IS OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH, A VERY PRESENT HELP IN TROUBLE. THEREFORE WE WILL NOT FEAR THOUGH THE EARTH BE REMOVED. (Psalm 46:1, 2)

            The sunset was bizarrely beautiful. I’d never seen anything like it. It was both breath taking, yet ominous. Who would have thought a sunset could pose such a contradiction in our minds. It was like a living object lesson of Psalm 85:10. ‘Mercy and truth have met together. Righteousness and peace have met together.’

            Brilliant reds, greens, yellows, pinks, blues, and violets swirled together. Have you ever noticed how fast a colorful sunset can change into darkness? Well this sunset changed and morphed colors five times faster than usual. Yet darkness came five times slower than usual. And the color schemes just kept changing and moving.

             The fourth plague fell the previous day. Unrepentant humanity was scorched with great heat (Revelation 16:8, 9). Yet those of us who had the seal of God were protected. It was as if we were encased in an unseen bubble. The cells of God’s people scattered throughout the world experienced the same protection. Our friends and family back in Eastern Iowa were experiencing a similar shield that we were. I was so grateful to hear my daughter’s voice as she related this information to me.

            We had all had a restless night as the judgements of God continued to fall. Not that we feared for ourselves, for we loved Jesus (John 14:15) and had kept the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus (Revelation 14:12). We were concerned for the unprotected. We mourned for friends and loved ones that sided with the commandments of men rather than the commandments of God.

            We took courage that the plagues indicated that the second coming of Jesus Christ was very, very soon.  The most stunning sunset our eyes had ever seen made us think of our Lord coming in the clouds of heaven. Not in some secret rapture.  

            John the Revelator tells us in the very first chapter, verse seven, that every eye will see Him. Paul tells us in 1 Thessalonians 4:16 that the Lord Himself will descend with a shout, with the voice of an arch angel, and with the trumpet of God. In Acts chapter one, when Jesus arose to heaven, verse eleven tells us that He would come in like manner.

            1 Thessalonians 4:18 tells us we should comfort one another regarding the second coming of Christ. Revelation 21:4 assures us that God would wipe away every tear and that there would be no more death, sorrow, or crying. There would be no more pain, for the former things will have passed away.

            Inga, C.S., who was formerly known as Jackson, Zella and I were sitting on C. S.‘s deck. We were comforting each other about the second coming of Christ as we watched the unique sunset. We were all excited, yet troubled by the falling of the plagues. So we were exercising the Bible instruction to exhort one another daily (Hebrews 3:13).

            It must have worked. C.S. got a boyish grin on his face as he took hold of Inga’s hand. “Come see, a quarter mile through the woods is a large pond. It wasn’t affected by the third plague. Sunsets are amazing there. This one will be absolutely phenomenal.”

            But Inga resisted and frowned. “This is the most interesting sunset I’ve ever seen; but I don’t like what it represents.”

            C. S. frowned back. “What do you mean?”

            “The reason the sunset is so unique is because the fourth plague has fallen. That means  fallen humanity has been scorched with great heat.”

            “Don’t think about that,” he petitioned. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. God is a righteous judge. Think of it as Christ’s imminent return being incredibly soon.”

            “C. S. is right, Inga,” I added. “The loud cry of the three angels messages was sufficiently broadcast. Everyone had their chance to accept or reject the God of Creation.”

            Inga pondered this for a minute. A girlish grin grew onto her face as she did so, and then they were off, walking hand in hand toward the woods. Zella smiled sentimentally as she watched them while I watched her. Her beautiful ebony skin glowed in the fast changing but slowly fading sunlight. “I think love has been rekindled.”

            “Were they in love the first time?” I asked.

            “There must have been something.”

            “Yeah, but Inga despised him for almost a decade. What we’re witnessing is new, fresh.”

            “No, I say there was something. Circumstances all those years ago just caused Inga to take a step back on her feelings.”

            “More like a leap.”

            “Life’s a strange trip,” she said with a shrug.

            I put arm around her and kissed her mouth. Aunt Holly and Benny were at the neighbors, so we were alone. I kissed her again and she giggled. “No wonder you talked Inga into going with C. S.”

            “I don’t know that I talked her into it,” I grinned. “But I was hoping for some alone time with the most beautiful woman on the planet.”

            “Aw, you’re sweet,” she said aiming a big eyed smile my way. I arose and moved to sit on her lap. She stopped me by placing both hands on my back side. “I don’t think so!”

            “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

            “Sit back down,” she ordered. Then she arose and moved to sit on my lap. Unlike her, I allowed it. To my immense pleasure, she kissed me and I mean deeply. I wrapped my arms around her and planned on much more of the same. But it wasn’t to be.

            Inga and C. S. had entered the woods that surrounded the acreage via a trail to the southwest. From the northeast side of the woods we heard the crunch of leaves, the snap of a twig and the murmur of voices. Half a dozen people began to emerge from the woods and Zella sprang from my lap as though it were on fire… Drat!

            The little band was led by Benny and his two friends, a boy and a girl. Holly was with the children’s parents. The couple appeared to be close to Zella and myself in age. They made their way to the deck and Holly introduced us to Mick and Lindsey Wadena.

            Mick was medium height, burly and had thinning blonde hair. Lindsey had short strawberry blond hair. She reminded me of Mary Poppins, but it was probably the old fashioned dress she was wearing.

             “Wow, you’re Seven Sallie,” Mick declared.

            I opened my mouth to reply, but Zella beat me to it. With an exaggeratedly deep voice she said, “Yes indeed, it is he, the venerable Seven Sallie.”

            They all laughed and I looked at my wife. She giggled. “You always look like Daffy Duck when you’re exasperated.”

            They all laughed again, and I couldn’t help chuckling along with them. Then something happened that I didn’t know how to take. Mick was commenting on the strange sunset, but I was  overhearing Lindsey discreetly whisper to Holly, “I thought you said he looks like George Clooney.”

            “I just meant sort of,” Holly whispered back.

            Was this a compliment or a dis? Oh well, I wasn’t even meant to hear it.

            “So you know Arlo Aldo?” I asked Mick.

            “I do indeed,” he replied. “Eli Alderson also.”

            Eli was Arlo’s bandmate. They were both in a Satanic band for many years, and then after their conversion they started a Christian band. Mick rehashed what C. S. had already told me about Arlo vacationing up here and teaching them about the Biblical Sabbath. Then he went on to explain about him and C. S. sharing their information with others in their neck of the woods.

            “As a matter of fact,” Mick was saying. “I think it would be a great comfort if you talked to some friends of ours, Jack and Jill Hill. They…”

            “Jack and Jill Hill?” I asked. “Hill is really their last name? As in Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pale of water?”

            “Yeah, it really is,” he laughed. “Sorry, I guess I’m just used to it after all these years. They have an interesting love story. They became close friends as kids, preteens actually. Jack went by Johnny back then. But then when he and Jill started hanging out, his friends and siblings started calling him Jack to go with her Jill. His dad was John Senior, but went by Jack, so I guess it was a bit of a combination.

            “Anyway, Jill moved away, and they didn’t see each other again for several years. Then Jill showed up at one of his shows a thousand miles from where they first got to know each other. I actually witnessed their reunion. Our bands were touring together at the time. It was a pretty special, memorable moment.”

            “Your own coming together with Lindsey was pretty special too,” Aunt Holly said.

            “Yeah, I suppose it was,” Mick replied, looking fondly at his wife.

            Lindsey seemed like a pretty serious, no nonsense type of person. But she grinned and told us. “Would you believe a dog played cupid?”

            It took me a couple seconds to absorb a dog playing match maker in a romance. However, it wasn’t something I was foreign to. Zella had a rescue dog, a chocolate Labrador named Free. She had been horribly abused. She was blind in one eye and walked with a limp, among other things.

            Free disliked and was afraid of male human beings. The bigger and more macho, the more her disdain. Then one day a big, tall, muscular man with a deep voice came into Zella’s herb and health food shop. Free was in the store that day because Zella’s living quarters upstairs was being painted.

            Although she had warned Billy Bob Booker to keep his distance from Free, the gentle bear of a man couldn’t resist the wounded animal. To Zella’s utter shock, Free couldn’t resist him either. After she witnessed her dog offer up her belly to be scratched by the big man, she had to tell her best friend Willa what happened. In turn, Willa couldn’t resist wanting to get to know Billy Bob herself.

            I looked at my wife. Her stunned expression turned to one of curiosity. “You two were match made by a dog?”

            “Yeah,” they both said at the same time, and  then chuckled.

            “Please tell us about it,” Zella petitioned eagerly. She sat back in her chair, crossed her arms, and anticipated their story.

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 21

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 21

SEVEN SALLIE

OH, THE DEPTH OF THE RICHES BOTH OF THE WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE OF GOD! HOW UNSEARCHABLE ARE HIS JUDGEMENTS AND HIS WAYS PAST FINDING OUT! (Romans 11:33)

            “Seven watch where you’re going!” my wife bellowed just as I veered our Subaru Outback back onto the dirt road after putting the passenger side wheels a couple feet onto the grassy shoulders.

            Inga had just stunned us by informing Zella and me that she had become pregnant as a fifteen year old girl. The impregnator happened to be the guy we were looking for in northern Minnesota. In my surprise I had glanced over my right shoulder at Inga, who was sitting in the back seat.

            This inadvertently caused my hand on the steering wheel to move along with my head. Or as my cousin Brock once called it after I got us into some trouble as teenagers, that lump  attached to my neck. His assessment may have proven correct, because my words caused my wife’s lovely dark brown eyes to produce daggers and her lovely lips to purse as if biting a lemon.

            “Did you abort?” I had asked.

            “Seven, that was crass,” Zella scolded. Then her countenance turned compassionate as she aimed it at Inga. “You don’t have to answer that.”

            “No, it’s okay,” Inga replied quietly and looked out of her window for a few seconds before admitting. “I kept him but then lost him.”

            “You mean you miscarried?” Zella gently asked.

            “No,” her voice croaked. “Jackson sort of became my boyfriend. We supposedly tried to be careful when it came to, you know, intimacy. But, well, I still ended up with a bun in the oven. He took me to some relative of his, I think it was a relative anyway. I never did understand what she was to him, an aunt, a cousin, I don’t know.”

            Inga shook her head and gazed thoughtfully out of the window again.

            “You don’t have to recount your situation, Sweety,” my wife told her.

            Yes she does, I selfishly thought. I want to know what happened.

            “No, I want you guys to know what happened. I want you to know what Jackson was like, even though I don’t understand him myself. Let me say this though. If Jackson Bronx has avoided the plagues, that is the biggest surprise to me of anyone. By far! I believe he got me pregnant on purpose. He… He…”

            Inga put her face in her hands and began sobbing. She spoke into her hands and her words, though muffled, were clear enough. “I don’t want to see him. I don’t understand why we were sent here. What do I say to this man I despise, even if he did somehow repent. He must have. He had to have. How else…”

            Inga paused. “Repent from what?” I asked.

            My wife’s leg twitched and I perceived that she wanted to kick me. “Seven, give her space. Did you forget to take your Genius Juice this morning?”

            “No, I took it.”

            “Could have fooled me.”

            “Sorry, Inga,” I said.

            “It’s okay,” Inga replied meekly. My heart ached for her. I was used to seeing her bold and feisty. It hurt seeing her so broken. But then her feistiness came back with a punch as she angrily declared, “Jackson groomed our baby for a satanic sacrifice.”

            “What!” Zella and I said at the same time. Then I only added to my wife’s ire by adding, “And you let him?”

            “No, I did not let him!” she barked heatedly. Then her demeanor shifted to solemn and she spoke with a monotone voice. “Benjamin wasn’t even a month old. Jackson and that witchy woman came and took him out of my arms as I was nursing him. They had two goons with them. Jackson, just as cold as could be, said ‘it is time for us to make our offering to the master.’

            “I was dumbfounded and demanded to know what he was talking about. Just as pleased as punch, that witchy woman, everyone called her Jezzy, explained about the satanic ritual. I went historical, but the two goons grabbed me. One of them put something over my face. It was a rag with chloroform or something.

            “The next thing I knew, I woke up in some woods behind this big mansion type house where I had my baby. Why they didn’t kill me I don’t know. But I got outta there with only the clothes on my back and hitchhiked back to town. That was a nightmare in itself. I don’t want to go into that right now though.

            “But when I finally get to the cop shop, the police acted like I was just a crazy lunatic. I guess I can’t blame them. And I guess that’s why the goons didn’t kill me. They knew the police wouldn’t believe me. But the police did let me use their phone to call my sister. And that was the beginning of us becoming homeless vagabonds.”

            “Wow, no wonder you’re not looking forward to facing Jackson,” I said.

            “Ya think,” Inga snapped. “Sorry. It’s just that I don’t have a clue how I am supposed to behave. I mean, am I really supposed to forgive the man that killed my baby. He was even the father of the child. I can’t fathom how that depth of evil avoided the plagues thus far.”

            “I don’t know what to tell you, Honey,” Zella said. “The only thing I can say is Jesus asked for forgiveness for those who tortured and killed Him.” (Luke 23:34)

            “Yeah,” Inga said meekly as she folded her hands in her lap, chewed her lip and gazed out of her window.

            A couple minutes later, GPS announced we were there. We already knew that as all six of our eyes were trained on a log cabin type house. It looked like something from a century or two ago. It had a small eight by ten foot porch with two rocking chairs.

            “Seven, why don’t you go knock on the door?” Zella petitioned.

            Why me! My mind shouted, yet I forced my actions to nobility. “Okay.”

            I tried three times, but no one came and I heard nothing inside. The cabin was on a bit of a hill, and the back side was twice as big as the front. There was a large deck supported by ten foot tall four by fours. About fifteen stairs jutted to the side of the structure.

            I heard low voices coming from the deck. With heart pounding I placed my foot on the first step, then the second step, then from my voice box came a greeting, “Hello?”

            The talking stopped and a twenty something year old man appeared at the top of the stairs. Thankfully he returned my greeting, albeit cautiously. “Hello.”

            He had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes looked at me through wire rimmed glasses. My first thought was that this couldn’t be Jackson. Inga described him with black hair and dark eyes. There were four deck chairs. Three were empty, but one was occupied by an older woman who appeared to be in her seventies.

            The sandy haired man held a Bible in his hand. With a friendly, but careful tone he asked, “Can I help you?”

            “I’m looking for a fella by the name of Jackson Bronx,” I told him.

            He looked stunned and took a step back. “May I ask why and who you are?”

            I chuckled nervously. “Well, it’s complicated, and might sound farfetched.”

            “Try me,” he said almost as a challenge and with narrowed eyes.

            “My name is Seven Sallie, I…”

            “Thee Seven Sallie?” the older lady broke in with an air of excitement as she arose and stood by the sandy haired man. “The legendary broadcaster?”

            With a little bit of a bow and a hand on my chest, I replied, “Yes ma’am, it is I.”

            My mind’s ear heard my lovely wife say, ‘Give me break.’ It was definitive enough that I even turned to see if she was behind me. She wasn’t. I also wondered if I should explain to this nice lady that my little head bow and hand to the chest was spontaneous, and that my mock humility sprang from praise actually making me uncomfortable.

            This wasn’t always the case with me. When I was a secular broadcaster with a syndicated show on hundreds of radio stations, I was full of myself. But after my Christian conversion, I began mocking my old self. I occasionally joked that I was a legend in my own time. Then my wife would finish my statement by declaring that I was a legend in my own mind. This usually garnered a laugh from the company we kept.

            The converted me enjoyed the tranquility of not taking myself so seriously. The born again me (John 3:3-7), the new creation I became (2 Corinthians 5:17), enjoyed true peace giving God the glory rather than myself.

            “Okay,” the sandy haired man said matter of fact, clearly not as impressed with me as his older companion.  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Sallie. But why are you here then?”

            “I’m with a young woman named Inga Likas. She…”

            “Inga Likas!” he interrupted with wide eyes. He definitely was more interested in Inga rather than the venerable Seven Sallie.

            “Yes, also known as Inga…”

            “Cognito,” he interrupted again.

            “Right, so apparently you know her.”

            “Of course I do.”

            “Okay, great,” I replied, frowning as I wrapped my mind around this second guy. “So do you know where Jackson Bronx is?”

            “You’re looking at him.”

            I looked to my right and to my left. Inga described Jackson as having black hair and dark  eyes. This guy in front of me had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Inga described you as having black hair and brown eyes.”

            “When I knew her, I dyed my hair and wore colored contacts,” he said quickly, then grabbed my forearm and asked excitedly, “Is she here?”

            I looked at his hand on my arm and he pulled it away. “Sorry.”

            “No problem,” I replied. “Yeah, she’s around front.”

            He went down the deck stairs two at a time and I followed. Inga and Zella were slowly roaming around the front yard. Their heads swiveling as they took in the woods that surrounded about an acre of lawn. Inga froze as Jackson approached her.

            “Inga!” he said with open arms as if to hug her.

            She took a couple quick steps back and ordered, “Stay away from me.”

            He put up his hands in a surrender gesture.

            The front door opened and an eight or nine year-old boy ran to Jackson. “Papa, Aunt Holly said Inga was here.”

            My eyes went from the boy to Inga. I never saw a more stunned face in my life. Her jaw hung open, as did my wife’s. Then my gaze returned to the boy, and I took in his wide, expressive arctic blue eyes, Inga’s eyes, as they trained on her. Then my jaw dropped when I heard him ask Inga, “Are you my mom?”