Mark opened his eyes. The room was dark except for the light from the TV. There was a war movie on. He immediately felt sad as he realized the futility of fighting and killing and wondered about demonic forces again. He stretched, sat up, picked up the remote and clicked the TV off. The room was dark except for the faint shadows cast from the streetlights outside. He looked at the clock on the wall and could barely make it out. It was just past 8 p.m. Then it hit him. “Wait a minute. I turned the TV off earlier.” He looked around. “Sotare?”
Nothing. He sat there. “Hello?”
Still silence. Mark’s scanned the room.
“How am I going to tell Kathy about this?” He picked up his glass and plate, went into the kitchen, and put them in the sink; then he headed to the downstairs bathroom to freshen up.
In the mirror, he saw the same man he had known for so many years. But he wasn’t the same anymore. Sotare had changed everything. He ran some water and splashed it on his face. It felt good. He looked in the mirror and watched the water drip off his chin.
After he dried his face he decided to head for the garden. On the way out, he glanced at the TV. It was still off. At the entrance to the kitchen he stopped and listened carefully to the empty quiet of the house. The solitude was almost palpable. He missed Kathy more than ever.
He turned his attention to the garden, he said, “Here we go,” and headed out the back door. It was cool and comfortable outside and as he looked up at the stars he took a fresh pleasure in seeing their light. The moon was almost full and a soft breeze moved through the trees. Mark headed down the familiar path and approached the gazebo.
Sotare was waiting.
Nabal was also waiting in the treetops, watching Mark walk from the house to the garden.
“How do you feel?” asked Sotare as Mark casually entered the gazebo.
“I feel fine, rested.”
“Good. I am pleased.”
“Did you turn the TV on?”
“Yes, to wake you.”
“Thanks.”
Mark sat down opposite Sotare and smiled. “So you angels can turn things on and off?”
“Yes and no. Since I’ve been granted the privilege of appearing to you, I’ve also been granted a few other abilities. Pressing a button on a remote is one of them.” Sotare smiled.
Mark was rapidly tapping his right index finger on his thigh; then he chuckled lightly.
“Yes?”
“Sorry, I just find it amusing that I walked out here to the garden and casually sat down here with you, an angel, and it seems so natural. It’s unbelievable, yet at the same time so real.”
“I guess it isn’t every day that you meet an angel and see demonic forces, is it?”
“You got that right.” Mark shifted in the seat and then asked in a measured tone, “Is Nabal back?”
“Yes.”
Mark looked up and was glad he couldn’t see anything.
Nabal stared down at Mark and drew its head back as it thrust its chest forward. Then it convulsed as if it was choking on something. With a single jerk, Nabal spat forcefully. Green bile hurtled downward. “Bile!” said Nomos.
Sotare stood up quickly and turned to face Nabal. He saw the spittle heading towards Mark. He Sotare raised his hand and blocked it, then flicked away the mess remaining on his hand.
Mark saw Sotare unexpectedly stand and turn as he raised his hand. “What was that?” he asked.
“Nabal spat at you, and I blocked it.” Sotare lowered his hand and Mark could see a wound in the palm.
“Are you injured?” asked Mark.
“It’s nothing. It will heal within minutes.”
As Sotare sat down to face him again, Mark studied the blistered hand of the angel and couldn’t help but wonder how much Sotare would be willing to suffer for him. “I thought you said it couldn’t hurt me,” said Mark. “So, why would you block it?”
“It would not have injured you. I stopped it because it is a great insult to have bile spat at you. You are made in the image of God and the spit is really an insult aimed at God. So, I stopped it.”
Mark raised his eyebrows. “I don’t get it. God’s image?”
“Mankind is the creation of God. You are made in his image—not a physical image, since God is not a physical being. You are made in his spiritual image in that you can be rational, think, love, hate, make choices, and such. This is why all people should be shown respect…because they reflect God’s image.”
“That’s like from the Bible, right?”
With a smile, Sotare added, “Because you are made in God’s image, to honor you is to honor God.”
Mark knew there was a lot to learn.
***
“Thank you for spending time with us, Pastor Tim,” said John.
“I’m sorry I stayed so long. Heck, it’s almost been an hour. I was only supposed to drop in, not invade your family time.”
“You didn’t invade anything,” Kathy reassured him. She didn’t mind the conversation. After all, the visit had helped her to see that Tim was a good man, even wise. She liked him and considered talking to him about Mark.
Maybe another time when the opportunity was right, she thought.
He stood up. “I hope our spiritual time didn’t bother you,” Pastor Tim said to Kathy apologetically.
“Not at all. I’ve heard it all from my father for the past few years, ever since he got religion. It doesn’t bother me.”
“Well, I’m glad. You’re very gracious.”
John chimed in from the bed. “My daughter doesn’t believe in all of this God stuff, Pastor. But she’s a good girl.”
Tim looked at her, “If only a tenth of the things your father has said about you are true, then you’re a wonderful woman.”
Kathy smiled politely at the pastor, but gave her father a look of slight embarrassment.
The pastor moved towards the door. “I know you’ll be up and around in no time, John. It looks like you are in good hands.” He smiled as he looked back at Kathy and said, “Goodbye.”
“Yes, I’m in the best of hands,” said John.
The pastor grabbed the door handle and began to open it, but he paused. Both John and Kathy waited for him to say something. He stood there for about ten seconds, motionless. They watched him, both curious, glancing at each other, and then back to him.
The pastor turned around to face John. “Uh, I am not sure…but I…I have a feeling that something significant is going to happen.” He looked at Kathy. He let go of the door handle and took a few steps towards her. Bewildered, Kathy stared back at the pastor, who was obviously trying to figure out what to say. He looked into her eyes.
“Please, forgive me. I hope this isn’t out of line, but I have such a strong urge to tell you something and I don’t believe I should go until I have said it.”
Kathy was motionless.
“You can take this or leave it, but I feel as though I’m supposed to tell you something about your husband.” He paused. “Your husband…” He stopped again, looked at John, and then back to Kathy. “Your husband is important. I don’t know how or why. But he is.” He paused again and after a few seconds looked at John in the bed. “What have you been praying for regarding Mark?”
John was caught off guard by the question, as was Kathy. Pastor Tim didn’t wait for an answer. He stood up straighter, now more confident. “It’s because of your prayers that a great battle is coming.” He paused yet again and directed his next words to the young woman he had just met. “Kathy,” he said. “I’m not trying to scare you and please don’t be offended by anything I’m saying here, but your husband is special. I believe that God is going to call him to serve him in a mighty way…but first, he must prepare him.”
Startled and perplexed by the pastor’s puzzling statement, Kathy raised her eyebrows slightly in astonishment.
Tim turned to John. “The life and soul of your son-in-law is at stake. You must continue to pray.” He looked up towards the he
avens, staring past the ceiling. “Something’s coming.”
He glanced back at Kathy and then to John. “I will tell everyone in the church to pray.”
It was an awkward moment for them all. John was not sure what to say next and Kathy was speechless. After a moment, Tim headed for the door, paused once more as he grabbed the handle, turned to them again and said, “I’m sorry for the melodrama. But I had to tell you.” He nodded as he said, “May the Lord be with you.” Finally, he opened the door and disappeared into the hallway.
Both watched as the door slowly and quietly closed. The click of the closing latch seemed to punctuate the moment. Kathy looked at her father who was obviously a little surprised.
“Does he do that often?” she asked.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him talk like that. Sure was different, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, a little too different for my taste.”
Out in the hall, the pastor continued to walk. But he could not escape the aftereffect of what he had just said. A great spiritual battle was coming that would somehow also involve him. He did not know how he knew, but he was sure that his own life was in jeopardy.
As he continued, he noticed a conveniently empty patient room, ducked inside, and closed the door. A chair was next to a wall, so he sat down. His breathing was a little labored and he had been clutching his Bible firmly. He put it in his lap and lowered his head into his hands. Light from outside streamed through the window onto the floor. Tim noticed the shadowed pattern at his feet.
Light and dark. Black and white. Good and evil.
He began to pray.
Back in the church, Ramah felt a surge of healing. He knew that someone was praying directly for the strength and work of angels and people to prepare for spiritual battle. He savored the warmth of healing that flowed through him. It was good and powerful. It was what he needed to heal.
He stood up in the church and flexed his wings. The pain was gone and the damage was healed. He flapped three strong strokes. It felt good. But he noticed something else. He felt very strong, much stronger than before.
***
Nomos continued to keep an eye on the prince. The powerful demon did nothing but wait and watch. The angel stood outside the gazebo keeping guard. He knew he could not defeat the prince, but he stood guard just the same.
Sotare sat opposite Mark. “One of the things I enjoy about taking human form is the breeze. It is so pleasant.”
Mark was amused. “Is there anything else you like or don’t like?”
Sotare smiled. “When I’m in human form I miss my wings. They are there in the spiritual world, but in yours they are not. And since my consciousness is in this world, I miss them. Also, gravity. Right now I feel its pull on me and am reminded of how limited and anchored to this world you are.”
Mark smiled while Sotare described sensations with which he himself was so familiar but to which he rarely gave a thought.
“You do not know the great pleasure of being able to fly through space with an almost effortless movement. Nor can you understand what it means to see two worlds instead of one. Mark, I can see you and to my right is Nomos. I see him but you cannot.”
Sotare turned his head and looked out to the landscape. “I can see great distances. I can see angels flying about, carrying out the Almighty’s plans, going to and fro. From here they are specks of light, but I can see them. They are everywhere.”
“Can you also see the demonic forces?” asked Mark.
“Yes.” Sotare’s countenance changed. “I can see blackness moving. It is difficult to describe, but it is possible to see very far and very clearly and know where concentrations of evil are at work. I often wonder whose souls are being redeemed and whose are being damned.”
Sotare’s comment was provocative but Mark let it pass.
“How far can you see?” he inquired.
“Sitting here in the gazebo, not very far. But when I am above the trees, I can see great distances.”
Mark sat still as he listened.
“Do you feel that?” asked Nomos. Sotare turned his head and concentrated for a moment, “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” asked Mark.
“Would you please wait a moment?” asked Sotare politely.
Mark nodded, wondering what was happening.
Sotare opened his wings and began to work them slowly. All Mark saw was Sotare stand up and slowly ascend through the gazebo roof. He quickly ducked his head outside the structure and followed the rising figure. Sotare hovered above the trees. Mark’s mouth hung open, eyes wide.
Both Sotare and Nomos hovered above the trees, a safe distance from Nabal. They looked towards the city and then both of them gazed off in another direction, into the distant horizon.
After about 30 seconds, Sotare began to descend slowly back through the gazebo roof, where he came to rest on the floor and sat down in the seat.
Mark was half smiling. “Can anyone else see you do that?”
“No,” said Sotare. “Just you.”
Mark sat back in his seat, enjoying the memory of the spectacle. He pressed his lips together as he prepared to ask the next question. “What was that all about?”
“Both Nomos and I sensed an increase of darkness. I needed to get above the trees for a better look.” Sotare pointed off toward the southern sky. “In that direction there is a dark cloud hanging over that part of the city. It tells me there is a demonic stronghold at work. It has been there for a while and has been slowly growing.”
Mark knew that the area the angel had pointed to was several miles away, the bad part of town, known for crime. It was an area that he always tried to avoid.
“Is something going to happen?”
“That is a rather open-ended question. But we sometimes sense an increase in darkness around us.”
“There’s a lot of bad stuff over there,” said Mark. “That area is getting worse.”
“Many areas are,” responded Sotare as he looked in a different direction. He sat back in his seat, wanting to get back on the previous topic. “The thing that intrigues me the most is how the Almighty is orchestrating everything for a purpose. Through the millennia I have learned there is so very much beyond my comprehension. The greatness of knowledge that the Sovereign holds is infinite.”
“Who is he?” asked Mark.
“He is God, the creator of all things. He is the one who is without beginning, without end, who does not change, and who knows all things. He is infinitely wise, pure, perfect, and complete in himself.” Sotare looked at Mark and leaned forward to emphasize what he was about to say. He spoke slowly.
“When you are in his presence, you are undone, made low, filled with awe. It is a wondrous experience.” Sotare leaned back, but his words drew Mark in.
“Who is he? I mean, which religion is he in or are they all correct or all wrong?”
As Mark asked, he realized that he was now a firm believer in God’s existence.
Sotare responded, “God works with truth, absolute truth. God does not leave truth to man’s discretion.”
Mark noticed the rather cryptic answer. “Can’t you just tell me which religion is true?”
“It is not an issue of which religion is true. It is an issue of who is true.”
“What do you mean, ‘who’?”
“Exactly.”
Exasperated, Mark exhaled loudly and asked, “Does that mean you’re not going to tell me?”
“You will learn the answer for yourself later.”
Mark was both intrigued and a little annoyed, but he was getting used to Sotare’s semi-cryptic, conversational style. “Am I right in assuming that there is a lot you can tell me, but that there are things I must learn first?”
Sotare smiled. “I apologize for not being as direct as you would like, but I don’t think it is wise to give you all the answers just yet. In part, I want you to draw conclusions for yourself. You need to experience them.”
Mark’s fa
ce became pale. “Experience?”
Sotare looked up at the treetops to check on the prince. Nabal glared back at him and slowly opened his mouth, showing long, formidable fangs. The slave demon still cowered at its master’s feet.
Mark watched Sotare look up to where the prince was perched.
The angel looked back at Mark and continued. “Yes, experience. In the meantime, ask questions.”
Mark took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Their conversation had been circuitous, so he thought he’d get it back on track by being direct. “Why did Jacob have to die?” He steeled himself in preparation for Sotare’s response, but before that was delivered, Mark added, “You said before that answers are not always that simple. Are the answers related to my son’s death like that?”
Sotare nodded once. “If I give you a simple answer, would you be willing to wait for a more complete one later?”
Mark nodded once.
“Please forgive my bluntness and also please understand that even though I have never been nor can I ever be a father, I am familiar enough with humans to know that losing a child is extremely difficult. I do not mean to be insensitive to the great tragedy in your life. But, the simple answer is that your son was allowed to die in order to bring you here.”
Mark stiffened. Was he somehow the cause of his son’s death? It was a painful answer and one that Mark did not like. But he was learning enough to not jump to conclusions.
“Wasn’t there another way to get me here? Was it necessary for Jacob to die so that I could learn?”
“Different events teach us different truths and truth equips us for service.” With that, Sotare stopped and watched Mark’s reaction.
Mark was obviously not satisfied.
The angel continued. “There is great mystery in the suffering of the innocent for the benefit of others.”
“But my son. Why my son? Wasn’t there another way?”
Sotare leaned forward slightly and repeated himself with a measured pace. “There is great mystery in the suffering of the innocent for the benefit of others.” He leaned back into his seat.
Mark considered the deliberate tone and repetition. He tapped his chin with a forefinger, contemplating the response. “Was there no other way?”
The Influence (Supernatural Thriller) Page 10