Angels of Humility: A Novel

by Jackie Macgirvin

  Kathy inhaled in preparation to speak, but Paul was too fast for her.

  “I couldn’t believe it when I found out that Sarah owns the land that I want for my new church. You can imagine how confused I felt, but then I thought this might all be from the Lord.”

  “How’s that?” asked Kathy, tugging the yarn to undo a knot.

  “Well, I want the land for the church, Sarah’s church. BCCF wants the land for a jail. The Lord has provided a way of deliverance for Sarah that will bless the church, too. If she sells the land to the jail, everyone will hate her. If instead she sells the land to the church, she would be viewed as a saint—the town’s rescuer. I can see a plaque in the foyer of the new church,” said Paul pointing to the entryway of the house for effect, “a permanent tribute to Sarah. Why would she want to be the goat, when she could so easily be the hero?”

  “OK, Paul,” said Kathy, under Valoe’s influence. “Really listen to this. It’s time for a reality check. Number one, have you prayed about this plan? Are you sure you’ve heard from the Lord? Number two, the church isn’t in any position financially to buy the land. Number three, you’re still the interim, and number four, this is your grand and glorious five-year plan. The church doesn’t even know about it.”

  “That’s part of the beauty,” he said with a smile as he leaned over her chair and took the knitting from her. “This jail could force the church to speed up the plan. I could meet with Sarah and ask her about the land and then, if she’s willing, I’ll propose it to the church to see if they are interested, which of course they will be. It’s a win/win situation. The church will eventually get a new building and avoid a jail at the same time.”

  “But Paul, you don’t even know—”

  “Then we propose a monthly payment to Sarah for the land. Or maybe she would just donate it to her church. And, I might mention that the church members and the town’s people would love me forever for solving this predicament.” Kathy grabbed her knitting back and glared at him. What’s the use of even trying to express my opinion? He doesn’t want to hear it, he just cuts me off.

  “I’m going to pray about this,” he said over his shoulder as he walked toward his office accompanied by Pride and Self-Promotion. “I’d appreciate it if you’d pray too. Then I might go talk to Sarah in a few days.” Saldu let out a sigh and followed Paul down the hall. “Keep her away from Paul with those needles,” he said, leaving Valoe to help Kathy regain her composure.

  In the office, Pride and Self-Promotion taunted Saldu with their shrieks and laughter. They knew he couldn’t do anything to them unless Paul cried out for help, and he was a long way from there. Saldu stood across the desk from Paul. “Paul, you might impress people with your performance, but you’ll never impress God. It’s about your heart, and it’s about loving and serving people; it’s not about building a kingdom to glorify yourself. Even though the plan seems spiritual, it’s not the Lord’s. It’s truly from the enemy. He knows that taking the wrong path is going to cost you time and pain. It will cost your family time and pain as well, and the same for the church. Spend time before the Lord renewing your intimacy and asking His opinion of the plan before you try to carry it out.”

  Paul shrugged off that nagging feeling that maybe the plan wasn’t God’s. He was too emotionally invested in it to even go there. But Lord, help me to love better. Help me to love my family better, and help me to be sensitive to the needs of my church family. Help me to be a good shepherd for them all. Lord I do want to be a blessing and do Your will. Amen.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Heroes will arise from the dust of obscure and despised circumstances whose names will be emblazoned on Heaven’s eternal page of fame,”

  Frank Bartleman1

  “Heroes aren’t born…they’re cornered.”

  Unknown

  Though Intimidation, Respectability, Discouragement, and Despair were not making as much progress as they’d hoped battling against Sarah, the town’s people, in their anger, gladly embraced the new demonic reinforcements with open arms—Accusation, Criticism, Gossip, Slander, Faultfinding, Impatience, Unforgiveness, Self-righteousness, Selfish Ambition, Unrighteous Judgment, Bitterness, and Treachery.

  “It doesn’t get any easier than this,” said Unrighteous Judgment, with an evil sneer. “I’ve got more people calling to me than I have time.”

  “Gossip, Slander, and I will keep the people stirred up,” said Faultfinding. “The rest of you will have plenty of time to work. This isn’t going to go away quickly.”

  The talk around town about Sarah was rampant and unkind. Barbara, newly retired and a new resident, went to the post office to mail a letter, and all she heard was criticism and gossip. It was no better at the grocery store. At Nate’s Hardware, where she stopped to buy a furnace filter, she even heard a threat.

  “Dear Lord,” she prayed, “the whole town is brimming over with hatred.” Barbara had been at the meeting last night. Being unfamiliar with the town, she was late herself, and for that reason, ended up on the back row where she observed Sarah’s discomfort at close range. She was close enough to see the sweat beaded on her upper lip, close enough to see Sarah’s hands tremble and to observe the humiliation and fear spreading across Sarah’s face just before she headed out the door.

  Although Barbara understood why none of the residents wanted the jail, and she didn’t want it, either, she did feel compassion for Sarah and wondered what made her take the unpopular stand she did. Maybe she’s desperate for the money. Maybe she lives on a fixed income.

  Barbara had almost followed Sarah out the door to comfort her, but she didn’t want to risk being ostracized by association. She needed to meet people and make friends, and it was glaringly obvious that any association with Sarah would have been a social faux pas on a grand scale. Still, she was ashamed that she let what people might think of her prevent her from comforting someone who obviously needed it. Forgive me, Lord. I could have helped someone, and I didn’t.

  Her guardian angel Gadiel beamed, “And of course He totally forgives you.” Gadiel looked about 30 years old in human age. He wore a shimmering multicolored cloak embellished with golden cord that went over his shoulders and around his waist, criss-crossing in the back and front. He carried an ancient spear with a carved wooden handle and a large silver spearhead. As Barbara drove home, Gadiel rode in the front seat, his large spear stuck through the top of the car.

  Sooo much work to be done. Thank goodness the house wasn’t a fixer upper. The previous owners had done a nice job of remodeling it before putting it on the market. She didn’t even have to paint. But the boxes, the endless boxes, waited to be unpacked. They’re reproducing like rabbits, she thought as she looked around. She’d been moving boxes a little at a time, trying to avoid getting overwhelmed; eventually it caught up to her. She collapsed on the couch and called her little pug dog, Hugo, who immediately jumped on her lap and began to lick her chin enthusiastically.

  “Don’t get too excited, Hugo,” she said, “I don’t even know where I packed the doggie biscuits!”

  That next morning, when Sarah opened her eyes, her first sense of awareness was a splitting headache. She ran her hand across the cut on her eyebrow and the whole horrible experience came flooding back to her. She grimaced at the memory of last night’s meeting. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, help me, was all she could think.

  Those words were enough for Joel to brandish his flaming sword and alleviate Sarah’s headache by cutting off the cowering spirit of Infirmity clinging to the side of her head. Its stunned black form hit the floor with a thud. Righting itself in a hurry, Infirmity used its web-like black leathery wings to fly away.

  Malta began to match the worship around the throne on his flute, and as wave after wave of “Holy, Holy, Holy,” silently penetrated her soul, Sarah found the energy she needed to get out of bed. She shuffled by the mirror and let out a groan. She didn’t even need to put on her glasses to see the black and blue welt surrounding her swollen
left eye.

  For the next two days, Sarah skipped her morning time with the Lord and her prayer walk and spent the time moping around the house. She was embarrassed at how her face looked, but even more, she was afraid to go outside. The spirit of Agoraphobia was back, convincing her that folks would point, call names, or even worse, attack her.

  She sat down to have her cup of coffee. She broke her morning ritual by throwing the unopened Gazette into her trash after Discouragement whispered, “I’m sure you’re the topic of every letter to the editor today.” The paper landed with a thud. No sense punishing myself.

  Sarah curled up on the couch. The days were getting chillier. She snuggled under the multicolored Angora blanket that George had given her as a Christmas present. As she ran her hand over the soft fleece, the loneliness swept over her again. She and George used to snuggle under the blanket as they watched nature documentaries or after they’d spent the evening dancing.

  Dancing, thought Sarah; a smile crept across her face. She had developed a love for dancing as a little girl. About once a month, on a Friday night, her father would move the coffee table from the living room and start the big player piano. Then he would sweep Sarah up in his arms. She would carefully place each socked-foot on his black leather shoes, and they would laugh and dance to every song on the roller. These were some of her favorite childhood memories.

  I was so excited when I found out George loved to dance. After we were married, we went to the lodge at Mt. Pielor almost every Friday night.

  For a moment she was back on the dance floor in her black pumps. George looked dapper, as always, in his charcoal gray suit and red-striped tie. She could feel his arm around her waist. The orchestra was playing “Over There.” She began to hum the music as she followed his lead around the large wooden floor. Even though the place was crowded, she never noticed the other couples. She and George were in their own world when they danced together. When the song finished in her mind, so did the cheerful recollection. She remembered how their dancing dates had ended when George became sick.

  When he couldn’t make the trip to Mt. Pielor, they began dancing in the living room together. She smiled at the memory of George shuffling around in his flannel pajamas and house slippers. As he continued to deteriorate, even one slow, slow dance with his feet hardly moving got to be too much. What a change from the virile, dapper George I knew. Toward the end, Sarah would just play the waltz music in the bedroom. It seemed to calm George. How she missed his arms around her when they danced.

  Lord, talk to me. Is George there with You? Please, please answer me, Lord. I can’t take this much longer. Give me courage. I feel like a prisoner in my own house. I’m too scared to go outside. I need to hear about the land. I’m lonely and desperate for a friend. She prayed in tongues for a while, but stopped when she didn’t feel better.

  She heard the mailman on the porch. After waiting a few minutes to make sure he was gone, she went outside. The box was crammed with letters. Only occasionally was there a return address. I guess the rest wanted to remain anonymous, she thought. Oh Lord, this is not what I need.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Pride works frequently under a dense mask, and will often assume the garb of humility.”

  Adam Clarke1

  “You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it.”

  James M. Barrie2

  A rusty blue Toyota pulled up in front of the house. When Sarah saw Pastor Paul get out, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was all she could do to keep from throwing herself into his arms when he came up the stairs. Thank You, God, for bringing my pastor. Thank You. I need to talk to someone who is spiritually wiser than I. She couldn’t see the demons of Manipulation, Control, Judgment, Fear of Man, and Selfish Ambition that his actions had invited. They clung to his scalp and shoulders. The demons gloated and taunted Saldu, who followed along behind.

  Joel looked at Malta, “Definitely not what Sarah needs now.”

  “Hello. Is this a good time?” asked Paul as he stepped onto the porch. He did a double take at Sarah’s black eye, but chose not to mention it.

  “Oh, yes. It’s a very good time,” said Sarah, concealing the handful of letters behind her back and looking slightly to the side to try to obscure her eye. “Please come in.”

  Sarah brewed a pot of coffee and they sat at the yellow Formica-topped kitchen table. Paul sat comfortably with the presence of these familiar spirits. He was making no effort to break free from their influence so the three mighty angels were unable to intervene on his behalf.

  The biggest demon Manipulation whispered to Paul: “Thank you for allowing me to talk with you. I have some important things to share….”

  “Thank you for allowing me to talk with you,” repeated Paul. “I have some important things to share. Things that I think are from the Lord. Do you mind if we start with prayer?”

  Sarah sighed in relief, “Yes, I’d like that.” Thanks, Lord, for sending me some spiritual guidance. Joel and Malta stood behind her.

  “Lord, please show us Your will and Your way. Help Sarah to make the right decisions during this difficult time for the town. Amen.”

  Difficult time for the town? thought Sarah, feeling exasperated, but she squelched a reply and the emotions that went with it.

  “I assume you’re feeling a lot of stress and pressure since the meeting the other night. Right?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Sarah feeling relief at having found a kindred spirit. “People are even sending me letters telling me what to do.” She held up the pile of mail. “I just want to do what the Lord wants, but I need confirmation.”

  “I’m sure you do. I hope that I can help; that’s why I’m here. I feel like I’ve heard a few things from Him about the land. It even started before there was talk of the jail, if that’s helpful.”

  Sarah felt her clenched muscles relax. She exhaled deeply. Her tension was draining away. Finally, Lord, You sent help. “I’d really like some good spiritual guidance. This has been a confusing time for me, and I’m a new Christian—”

  “I understand,” said Paul cutting her off. “Well, ever since I got here, I felt like the Lord was going to grow our church. As you know, our present facility can only hold about 150 people. I’ve felt that the Lord is going to bless us with new members and we will need to build a new church building. This is where it gets really good—when I first arrived in town, I was driving around just seeing it all for the first time, taking it all in. When I got to the intersection of Old Highway 3 and JJ, that land just kind of jumped out at me, if you know what I mean. I had no way of knowing it was yours. I didn’t know that until the meeting a few nights ago. I just know that the first time I laid eyes on it, I thought it was earmarked by the Lord for something special. Having a church on your land is a legacy I’m sure you’d be proud to leave, wouldn’t you?”

  He didn’t slow down long enough for her to answer. “If you sold or donated the land to the church, it would be a win/win situation.” The demons were heady over their success. Paul followed their lead exactly. “Everyone would be glad for the progress this would bring the town, not to mention soothing everyone’s high-strung nerves.”

  He was careful never to mention the jail. He knew how she felt about that, but building a new church seemed holier than building a jail. Besides, there were people everywhere to minister to. You don’t need a jail to find people in need.

  Joel watched as three of Paul’s black spirits swirled around Sarah. They had no legal right to land on her, but they could torment her.

  Sarah felt troubled, confused. Even though neither of them had touched their coffee, she stood up and came back with the pot. What Paul was saying made sense. The first twisted spirit of Manipulation whispered to her: “It’d be great to have a new church on the ground. It would certainly calm everyone’s ruffled feathers; more than that, it would probably make you the town hero.”

  “Remember,” croaked Selfish Ambition, “how everyone s
ang, ‘For He’s The Jolly Good Fellow’ at the meeting two nights ago?”

  Sarah glanced at the pile of letters on the table. Seeing them made her heart race.

  “That’s right Sarah; you don’t need any more hate mail, do you?” cooed the slimy voice of Fear of Man.

  “Now we go in for the kill,” said Manipulation. “Repeat after me, Paul, ‘I never had the pleasure of meeting your late husband,’” Paul continued, “but I understand that this land was in his family for a long time.”

  “Yes, it was purchased by George’s father when he was a young man. Then when we married, we farmed it for 23 years.”

  “Maybe the land is in your possession for such a time as this.”3 The demons all flinched at the passing mention of a Scripture passage. Sarah had never heard that phrase.

  “What do you mean, ‘for such a time as this’?”

  “It’s from the Book of Esther.”

  “I, I haven’t read that book yet,” said Sarah, somewhat embarrassed.

  “I’ll give you a brief overview. Esther was the queen. The prime minister named Haman hated the Jews and devised a plan, along with the king, to have all the Jews killed. The king didn’t know Esther was a Jew. She had a choice to stay in the protection of the palace and watch her people perish outside or intervene by risking her life. God had moved her to the position as queen for ‘such a time as this.’ It was God’s will for her to step forward. It was the time God had destined for her to bring deliverance to her people.”

  “For such a time as this,” repeated Sarah.

  “That’s right,” said Paul. “For such a time as this.”

  “I wish they would shut up,” said Selfish Ambition. “It’s like nails on a chalkboard every time they say that.”

  “Keep praying. I’m confident the Lord will show you His will,” said Paul, standing to his feet. “I can tell that you want the Lord’s heart on this. I’m sure you’ll make the right, the rational decision,” he said, shaking her hand vigorously.