BROWNIE: An Angel's Visit
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“You said God sent you to intervene?”
“I was already here on other business,” Brownie replied. He was not at liberty to tell Jeb about Tyrne, the angel who had guarded him since his birth, who was not only in the car but was also with them in the kitchen, quietly looking on. “You brought Alan Springfield here and managed to interrupt a divine appointment the Lord had planned for your old friend. Had Alan not been here tonight, you would have left the hospital earlier and gone home instead of going ten rounds with Alan in defense of your faith. You would not have been driving, impaired by fatigue. When you got into trouble, I was asked by the Lord to let you know that He had intervened. It was God’s loving hands that protected you when your car tumbled across the road as all of Heaven watched in horror. It was He who brought you through what would have been a fatal accident without so much as a scratch or bruise. You have found favor in His eyes, and as a result your life was spared tonight.”
Jeb wasn’t sure what to say. Because he had walked away from the accident, literally without a scratch, he had not thought about why. Jeb prayed to God every day and simply believed that nothing bad had happened tonight because it was not his time.
“Jeb, why did you act on Michael’s behalf before you prayed it through?” Brownie asked softly. “That’s unlike you, and you know better than that, especially in your profession.”
Jeb’s eyes grew wide. “And that’s why I could have died tonight?” He could not make sense of what his visitor was telling him. “I know I’m tired, but my mind refuses to comprehend any of what you’re saying.”
“It’s not quite that simple, I’m afraid. You push yourself too hard, and when you don’t take the time to rest and refresh, well, the opportunity for error escalates. You are one of His children, an obedient servant of the Lord God. He wants you to remember always that you do have limitations when you depend only upon yourself, while nothing limits Him! Am I making any sense?”
Jeb was still confused. “I wasn’t supposed to bring Alan here? I guess that part sort of gets me. Could you explain that?”
What Brownie could reveal was limited. “After you conferred with Alan, you began to doubt that there were any other options for Michael besides involving your old friend. You began to doubt your own abilities as an oncologist and a surgeon, diminished your own skills. Do you remember your conversation with Kenni before you called him and asked him to come?”
“She asked me about the small, still voice within.”
“Did you listen to it, or for it?” Brownie asked, “Or did you decide, even though you had some doubt, that the only way to save Michael was for Alan to operate?”
“I decided that I needed Alan’s hands, his skills, to save Michael’s life,” Jeb admitted softly, much like a child receiving a rebuke. Then he shook his head and looked at Brownie. “I make decisions like that all the time! What was so different about this? And you were in the OR, Brownie; you witnessed Michael’s condition. Alan and I complimented each other perfectly as a team. We pulled off a miraculous piece of surgery, even Bernie thought so.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Brownie nodded sympathetically, his green eyes soft. “No one is faulting either your or Alan’s skills. You’re exhausted; you’ve been running on your reserves for more than two days. I’m not here to convict or condemn you, or to make you feel badly in any way. I’m here because our Lord asked me to reveal myself to you; I cannot do that without His permission. You’re a good man, Jeb, and an excellent physician who relies on divine guidance as well as modern medicine. But yesterday the Lord noticed a sudden change, a hesitation, a lack of trust in you, and maybe in Him, and it disturbed Him. You are such a good doctor because of your reliance on God and the Holy Spirit, not just on your own abilities, as excellent as they are.”
Jeb could not deny anything Brownie said. Alan was his solution to the situation and Brownie was right again, he hadn’t waited upon God for an answer. He had hurried his prayer for guidance instead of taking his time as he usually did. He listened to his own head because he was afraid if he didn’t act, Michael would die; allowed fear to make the decision. He wasn’t sure it was right, as evidenced by his conversation with his wife, but he went ahead just the same.
“Did I harm Michael?”
Brownie shook his head. “Even though the operation as performed was not according to God’s plan, no, there was no harm done,” he said softly. “Michael would have survived this. God was ready to perform a miracle; one no one could deny or dispute.”
“I….”
“God will still perform a miracle, just not the one He intended.” Brownie smiled. “Actually, the Lord performed a miracle for you by saving your life. Nothing limits God; miracles are His gift as He sees fit to give them.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Unfortunately, egotistical Alan now believes he is the one who saved Michael’s life, and that no amount of prayer or waiting on God could change the outcome. Had you followed your usual course, praying and waiting on God, Alan would have seen a miracle he could not deny or explain any other way. You know that your old friend is not a believer, that he only trusts himself. What you could not have known is that there was a time when the Master had important plans laid out for Alan, plans your friend ignored. God intended to restart His relationship with Alan by allowing him to witness Michael’s supernatural healing, but you unwittingly interfered.”
“How could I have disturbed God’s will?” Jeb asked, feeling worse by the minute.
“Humans have free will,” Brownie explained. “I live to serve the Lord; it’s why I was created. Humans serve, or even believe in Him for that matter, only if they choose to. There are many things I cannot explain to you, so many events that take place in the spiritual realm which you have no idea even transpire. You’ve been given the opportunity to hear this from an angel of God. While you have tremendous skill as a doctor, what sets you apart from others in your profession is your love for God, your willingness to let Him guide you. That’s why you have been so successful in helping children like Angela and Evan!”
Slowly, it began sinking in, and everything Brownie said was true. Jeb never made a move in Angela’s treatment without spending however long it took in the presence of his Savior before he acted. Michael’s tumor grew rapidly and Jeb had feared that if he did not act quickly, the boy would die. And what would I have told Lauren in that case? In his haste, he had omitted something this time that could have caused a tragic outcome.
“I think I understand it now, Brownie.” Though weary, he managed a smile. He was humbled by the honor of having been privy to a conversation with an angel. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m exhausted and it’s been a rough few days.”
“It’s quite alright,” Brownie reassured him with a smile and then rose to his feet. “Go back to bed, Jeb. I think you’ll find that sleep will come easily to you now; I seem to have that effect on people.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Just remember that things are not always what they seem,” Brownie told him. “Let your faith in our Lord guide you always, no matter how things may look. Walk by faith, not by sight, or what you feel or think. This is God’s message to you tonight. Take it to heart and go to bed now. Goodnight, Jeb.”
The kitchen was suddenly aglow in golden light that sparkled and swirled around Brownie, and then he was gone.
Chapter 17
Morgan Cole was up early; she was sitting alone at the dining room table, wrapped in a mint green nightgown and robe, a cup of coffee as her silent companion. She savored the quiet of the morning when everyone else was still asleep. There were countless days in the recent past where she had been unable to drag herself out of bed until at least noon. Now that Angela was home, Morgan was optimistic once more about the future, and planned on greeting each day with a fresh attitude and exuberance for life she had not known in a long, long time.
Throughout the night, she awoke perhaps half a dozen or so times, she b
lamed it on the long nap she and Angela had taken together. However, strange and disjointed stories, and familiar, yet abstract images had played themselves out on the screen in her mind, disturbing her sleep. While much of what had passed through her thoughts made no sense, distinct and unsettling feelings of guilt emerged like a cold shadow that crept across her soul and left its indelible imprint behind. She had been unable to shrug off her feelings, no matter how hard she tried.
Morgan’s thoughts turned to Miranda, the secret sister she had never shared with anyone. Marcus knew nothing of her twin sister, or the horrible guilt that tormented Morgan because Miranda had died while she thrived. Thanks to a wonderful miracle Brownie had shared with her, Morgan was able to find closure when it came to her sister, but not enough to erase the lie of omission to her husband.
After she and Marcus married, Morgan slowly began to cut her family out of her life, but not because she didn’t love or care about them, or was ashamed of them. Simple guilt over Miranda’s death birthed a plan to keep her sister’s life and death secret from anyone who didn’t already know. Her family promised to go along with it, which was easily done as her mother never mentioned Miranda anyway, but Morgan didn’t trust the rest of them with anything so important as her life with Marcus.
From girlhood on, Morgan had wallowed in guilt about Miranda, as if her twin’s death from acute lymphocytic leukemia was truly her fault, as if in some twisted way she had killed her. Instead of being honest about it, Morgan had buried it deep within herself where she could hide the loss of her twin without curiosity or questions.
When Angela was diagnosed with the same form of leukemia that had claimed her sister’s life, Morgan felt the icy fingers of panic close around her heart like a vice. In desperation, crazy ideas can become plausible, regardless of how ridiculous they might be. She had convinced herself that Miranda sought revenge from the grave, and had somehow transferred the terrible disease to her daughter. While Miranda had been pronounced dead at the hospital, Morgan never believed that. She knew her sister was already dead, but paramedics had convinced her parents that she was still alive, although she had no clue as to why they would do that. It was the reason why she had refused to let Angela come home. At least if she died in the hospital, Morgan would not have to deal with the shadow death left behind, at least not at home. The idea of even the most remote possibility of living through it a second time was more than she could bear.
Morgan sighed, wondering how she had concocted such a cockamamie idea, and even worse, how she had believed it. For years after Miranda’s death, Morgan had seen her shadow everywhere imaginable. She wondered how Marcus would react if she rallied her courage and told him the truth about Miranda. He was her husband, the man she loved, and deep down inside she knew as she always had that he deserved to know. There was a side of herself she had never shared with him. She wondered, am I an imposter in my own life? Have I committed fraud, or am I simply a common, garden-variety liar? Whichever it was, Morgan could no longer justify keeping it from Marcus. She knew in her gut that if they were going to rebuild their marriage, she would have to come clean about her past.
What about Clay Parmenter? Do I have to admit that too? The little voice in Morgan’s soul insisted that she must. She found it excruciatingly embarrassing to realize that her motivation had been the old green-eyed monster, jealousy. She had even gone so far as to lead him to believe that she wanted to have an affair with him to get what she wanted, and while she had never intended to go through with it, she wondered how to explain it to Marcus. “What will I do if Marcus won’t forgive me for what I’ve done?”
Morgan folded her hands on the table and bowed her head. She thought about her mother-in-law, Phyllis, who prayed as well as any preacher she had ever heard. Morgan had never been one for prayer and doubted she even knew how. She searched her soul, silently asking God to forgive her for what she had done. When she opened her eyes, she knew what she had to do: Only complete honesty would allow them to make a fresh start.
***
“Good morning, Bernie,” Kenni greeted as they reached the hospital entrance at the same time. The bright sunshine pouring from the clear blue winter sky looked deceptively warm, but the reality of the frigid, biting wind revealed the truth and caused everyone who arrived at the hospital’s entrance to hurry inside and out of the bone chilling cold morning. “Goodness, but it’s cold!”
“Way too cold for my old bones,” Bernie agreed as he opened the door for her. He had forgotten his gloves on the kitchen table, shivering he rubbed his bare hands together. “How is Jeb?”
“He was sound asleep when I left,” Kenni answered him as they turned the corner leading to the corridor where the elevators were. “He apparently fell asleep behind the wheel last night. The police officer, who’d seen the whole thing, told him he’d never seen a car roll like that and then end up on its wheels.”
Bernie let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God that someone was looking out for him.”
Kenni smiled knowingly. “I’ve given him orders that he is forbidden to come anywhere near this place today. It was a long night and he needs to sleep.” She unsuccessfully stifled a yawn, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. “I could use a nap myself.”
They reached the elevator and Bernie pressed the call button. He cleared his throat and looked at Kenni. “Do you think you and Jeb might be up to attending a church service with me tonight?”
Kenni eyed him curiously at his surprising request. Bernie’s face was bright pink and but she couldn’t tell if it was from the wind or self-consciousness over making his request. “Is there something special going on?”
The older man shrugged. “There’s a guest speaker tonight at the church Isabel attended in Piqua, and I’d rather not go by myself.” He met Kenni’s curious gaze. “Our son is speaking there tonight.”
“Seth?” Kenni breathed. Neither of them noticed the elevator car door as it opened. “Didn’t Isabel attend His Holy Assembly Church?” The elevator door closed.
“Yes. From what little info I do have, Seth is now a Messianic Jew. As I understand it, he’s also a Rabbi in Florida. Who’d have ever thought that Seth would be a Rabbi?” He thought of the granddaughter he would not have an inkling existed had it not been for Brownie. The years had passed and life went on, despite all the changes and losses Bernie felt within his heart. Despite his best efforts to control his emotions, his eyes misted before he could blink the tears away. He cleared his throat once more and sniffled. “If nothing more, I’d like to at least see him from a distance, but I could use some moral support if you’re up to it. Otherwise, I’m afraid I might lose my nerve and miss the only opportunity I may have to see Seth.”
While Kenni and Isabel were not extremely close, they were sociable enough to have chatted often over coffee and muffins at Tim Horton’s on several occasions, and she knew that Seth had estranged himself from them over a major altercation with Bernie. She found it miraculous to have learned that Seth had found Jesus, and equally as miraculous that Bernie was willing to go to a Christian church to see him.
“I’m sure we can work out something.” She pressed again for the elevator. “Jeb will most likely call me when he gets up. I’ll give you a call as soon as I hear from him.” The elevator door opened and this time she and Bernie entered the car. She smiled up at him. “And if for some reason Jeb isn’t up to it, I’ll go with you. Either way, it’s a date.”
***
Charlie Petersen sipped cautiously from a mug of steaming coffee as his eyes drank in every printed word of the day’s reading in a devotional book for men. The text dealt with marriage and children, something he had not had much use for. Not liking to skip a daily selection, even if he didn’t find it pertinent to his own situation, he finished reading, closed the book and stared off into space. Christmas was only days away, along with his fifty-second birthday. He wondered why the Lord had not blessed him with a wife and family. He knew there was a child somewhere, b
ut it hardly seemed real after so many years. Perhaps they might meet in Heaven, but Charlie thought it unlikely that they would ever come face-to-face on earth.
Charlie’s thoughts turned to Lauren and the captivating violet depth of her eyes; pretty, brave Lauren, whose engaging smile caused his heart to turn flip-flops he feared others could hear. While there was no denying that she was a physically stunning woman, it was her inner beauty and her love for God he found most alluring about Lauren. “C’mon now, foolish old man. What would she possibly see in you?” Charlie admonished himself, not that he was so much older than she. Sadly, her child was gravely ill, and Charlie doubted that Lauren even knew he existed, or had time to think about anything except Michael.
“What’s troubling you this morning, Charlie?” Brownie asked as he entered the kitchen. He made himself comfortable in what had become his place at the table. He was his furry, angelic self, his luminous eyes and sweet expression fixed on Charlie’s face.
Charlie shrugged, slightly embarrassed at having been discovered in the pitiful throes of feeling sorry for himself. “Oh, just a few regrets about life, and I guess facing the fact that I don’t have an unlimited supply of time ahead of me to do things, you know; that kind of stuff. We call it a ‘pity party’.”
“Charlie, you have time,” Brownie reassured him. “You have time to do a lot of stuff.”
Charlie took another sip of coffee, holding the mug with both hands and savoring the transfer of warmth from the glazed ceramic mug to his fingers and palms. “It can get pretty lonely around here. Having you around—when you’re here anyway—has shown me just how lonely this little house is when I’m the only one in it.” He thought of all the years that had passed and the events he had missed. “I’m not a young man anymore; the pages of my book have lots of days written in them. I don’t know, I guess I’m a little depressed because of my birthday, I’m getting old.”