Angels of Humility: A Novel (19 page)

Sarah’s phone rang that evening; the raspy voice whispered, “Get ready for another brick through the window.” Click.

“Oh, Jesus, help me. I can’t take this again. Please protect me.” Her prayer stunned an infiltrating spirit of Fear, and Joel easily sent the black-winged beast retreating with a slap from the back of his hand.

“Keep praying. Pray for your enemy. They
hate
that,” said Malta. “You have no idea how powerful those prayers are.” Sarah turned on the porch light and all the inside lights.
I‘m here by myself. What if they break in?
Her heart began to race.

“Sarah,” said Joel, “don’t let the enemy run wild with your thoughts. Once he gets a foothold with worry in your mind, he can literally control you. Second Corinthians says,
‘We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.’
⁸
Taking your thoughts captive is an action you have to constantly repeat. It’s not something you do once or something that will be done for you.”

Sarah picked up the brick from the television and went to her bedroom and locked the door. She didn’t want to be in the living room in case another one came hurtling through the window.

“Remember what the apostle Paul said?” asked Malta. “Fix your thoughts on what is true and honorable and right and pure and lovely and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.
⁹
He certainly had enough to worry and stress about. His life was constantly in danger, but if he had let the devil control his thoughts with fear, we wouldn’t be reading the story of his incredible ministry in the Bible today.”

My life was filled with fear and it almost killed me. I’ve got to resist these thoughts
. Painstakingly, she knelt by her bed. She set the brick on the floor and opened her Bible to Psalm 140:1–3, “O
Lord, rescue me from evil people. Protect me from those who are violent, those who plot evil in their hearts and stir up trouble all day long. Their tongues sting like a snake; the venom of a viper drips
from their lips…
.“
¹⁰
She prayed. “
Father, please protect me from harm. Please send angels to surround my home.”
Then she prayed for the person who threw the brick. She didn’t know what else to do so she just kept praying so her mind wouldn’t wander.

“Sarah, you are totally safe,” whispered Joel. “The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth to show Himself strong on behalf of those whose hearts are loyal to Him.”
¹¹
Malta and Joel stayed with her, encouraging her that nothing could separate her from God’s love—not death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing.
¹²

Outside, six other angels appeared. One stood guard at each corner of the house. Their golden wings were spread wide, and they were armed for battle. Each one held an ornate silver shield and a flaming sword. The other two sat on the porch swing, visible to all, their heavenly glory restrained, but disguised as men wearing sweatsuits and built like professional wrestlers.

A car turned the corner, cut its headlights, and pulled slowly toward the curb. The passenger, holding a large rock on his lap and a can of spray paint said, “There’s two guys on the porch. Keep driving. Go, go.” They disappeared into the night and never came back.

When all the citizens of Bradbury found out that Sarah had indeed sold the land, a rage spread through the town. At first Clarence got people riled toward Paul, but Paul and his dark friend Manipulation were able to help them vent toward the real guilty party—Sarah. This animosity was in full swing. It would eventually run its course and end up as a stronghold of Anger and Depression hovering over the town.

The check for $50,000 arrived by registered mail. Sarah sat on her couch staring in disbelief.
Of course I’ll send $5,000 to my church. She bit her lip. Nursing homes are really expensive, Lord what do You want me to do with the rest?

The $5,000 check that Barbara dropped in the offering for Sarah was enough to temporarily lift Pastor Paul’s mood.
Finally, something good came from the sale of her ground
. He shook his head.
If Missouri ever has a hurricane I’m going to suggest they name it Sarah
.

Six months came and went in Bradbury. Winter was pushed back by the invading spring. The trees were leafing out and daffodil bulbs began poking through the ground in response to the sun’s rays. As good weather returned, garage doors went up and lawn equipment spilled out onto driveways. Neighbors chatted, renewing their friendships after the long winter.

The church had voted to call Pastor Paul, much to his relief. He’d immediately unveiled his grand and glorious five-year plan. A visitation program on Thursday nights was in the works.

Kathy was still enjoying full-time motherhood with Jordan and had made some good friends. She had also taken over as the adult Sunday school director. But she was concerned about Paul and their lack of unity. She
prayed in earnest for him. She knew in her spirit that things weren’t going well. She was especially uneasy about his five-year plan. Her concerned questions to Paul brought frustratingly vague and frequently snippy answers. When she tried to share what she was learning from the book on humility, he would listen somewhat patronizingly, but she never saw any attempts at change. Even with encouragement from Valoe, she felt resentment creeping in, especially when Paul consistently worked 70-hour weeks.

The jail was on the way to completion. The residents of Bradbury had reached a resentful resignation over its presence. Twenty men had even taken construction jobs and were getting paid a good wage. There was talk about more good-paying jobs once the jail opened, which was scheduled for two months if it wasn’t a wet spring.

Clarence was still fuming over the jail, but everyone was tired of hearing about it—it was fast becoming a reality. So the proposed 1½-cent sales tax increase to rebuild the bridge over the Platte River became the new cause to pour all his energy into.

Wilma, Bernice, and Carol were still enmeshed in their gossip hotline. Nothing Ardare or the other angels did could permanently penetrate their hearts. They’d feel conviction, but the ringing of the telephone made it disappear. Ardare and his friends cried many tears from the Father over these ladies.

Barbara was enjoying her new home and had it decorated with the antiques she had collected over the years. She had big plans for the yard. She’d never had the time or enough land to have a garden or grow flowers. Her dog-eared seed catalogs were spread over the dining room table. She and Sarah were closer than ever, and she continued to encourage Sarah in the things of the Lord. She remained God’s merciful answer to Sarah’s desperate prayer.

Sarah had been given a slow death sentence. Doctor Schumacher had diagnosed her with Parkinson’s. Even though she was taking several medicines, she was very aware of her decreasing mobility and ever-increasing tremors. Sarah had stayed inside for months, but not because of Agoraphobia. That spirit had been defeated. She just couldn’t risk falling on the ice. Barbara had faithfully grocery shopped for her.

Every day that Sarah had been trapped by the weather, she, Joel, and Malta sat on the couch together. A cup of hot chocolate, coffee, or tea sat on the side table, depending on her mood. She closed her eyes and mentally “walked” the blocks, picturing every house and praying for its inhabitants. She surprised herself; she was able to imagine every house on all four blocks.

Sarah’s times of intimacy with the Lord had increased her desire to surrender totally to Him and had allowed Him to grow her into a powerful intercessor—His life’s plan for her. At home she listened to religious television programs and radio shows. She read her Bible and prayed for missionaries, the visitation program, the church, Pastor Paul, her niece in Tallahassee, and the requests from a magazine called
The Voice of the Martyrs,
²
which told of Christians being persecuted and executed all around the world.

I knew that people got martyred in the Bible, but I never dreamed that thousands of Christians are martyred now
.

Sometimes the Lord gave her a glimpse of an emaciated man or woman being held in a cramped, dank cell. When this happened, she would pace or curl up on the couch under a blanket and sob and pray until the burden lifted off of her.

She also dedicated a special prayer time for “The 10–40 Window.”

Sarah fluctuated between grief and incredulity when she discovered that it contains over 70 percent of the world’s people, but only 8 percent of all missionaries. Less than half of 1 percent of church budgets reach the window. Ninety-seven percent of the poorest of the poor dwell there, trying to survive on less than $1.40 per day. Of the world’s 50 least evangelized countries, 37 are within the window.
³

Each day she cried out to God for these requests, sometimes multiple times. Her life was becoming a living prayer.

“She thinks she’s a candle shining a little light into the darkness,” said Joel. “She’s really an inferno for God’s Kingdom, consuming the enemy’s plans and burning up his territory.”

Sarah put on her jacket and stepped on her front porch, eager to start her prayer walks again. I
feel like a bird released from a cage
, she said, flapping
her arms for emphasis and chuckling. Malta and Joel spread their huge, gossamer wings and flapped along with her, joining in her laughter.

As they began their walk, Malta reminded her that she used to be the woman who almost starved to death because she was so terrified to leave her house.

When she thought back on her life after George’s death and before she accepted the Lord, she couldn’t identify with that Sarah at all. I
can’t believe I even contemplated taking my own life. I’m a totally different person
.

“You are a totally different person, Sarah; you have been delivered from the powers of darkness and translated into the Kingdom of God’s son.
⁴
You are new in Christ.”
⁵

“Thank You for making me Your daughter and delivering me from that awful spirit. Thank You, Jesus; it’s so nice to be outside again,” she said out loud.

She took a deep breath of the brisk, outside air. It was still nippy, but she didn’t care. The snow was off the sidewalks so she could safely shuffle along. The medicine didn’t seem to be working, at least not to her satisfaction. The doctor said she was doing fine, but she felt the disease gaining on her. As she rounded the corner, she looked up in the sky and saw a commercial airliner heading west. “I wonder how many people are on that plane?” asked Malta.

“Two hundred and thirty seven including crew, and there are seven dogs down below,” said Joel with a grin.

“I wasn’t asking for your benefit.” Malta rolled his eyes. “So, SARAH, how many people do you think are on that plane?”

I wonder how many people are on that plane
, thought Sarah. I
wonder how many are saved?
She stood until the plane was out of sight and prayed for the passengers’ salvation, that they would all fulfill their destinies and that the enemy’s plans against them would be defeated.