New Wings

by Donna Stanley

  Lord, let every individual hear him out.

  Bill reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and held it out over the heads of the people standing near the stage. “Who wants this twenty?”

  A hand ascended from the crowd near the stage and grabbed at it. Bill released it. The crowd laughed.

  “I gave that to you as a free gift.” He looked at the young man who’d taken the bill. “You didn’t have to do anything to get that money. You didn’t have to impress me. I held it out, and you took it. God offers Himself to you that way. All you have to do is reach out and accept His gift of Jesus Christ. He’ll wipe away all the bad things you’ve ever done.

  And He’ll forgive all of your failures in the future.”

  Oh Lord, empower Bill’s words. Continue to speak through him.

  “God wants to heal you from drugs, alcohol, suicidal thoughts, cutting, rejection, pain. Don’t live life alone. Jesus wants to be your friend. He walked this earth for thirty-three years. He can relate to what you are going through. Imagine a God that would become human. And die for you. He loves you that much.”

  A girl dressed in a black t-shirt and ripped jeans stumbled through the crowd toward the stage. “There is no God,” she shouted.

  I stood on my tiptoes and recognized Angel, the girl I’d met at the shelter.

  Lord, give Mr. Lutz the words to say to Angel. Make Your presence known in spite of this distraction.

  Someone hit my head from behind. I thudded to the ground, landing on my side.

  I scrambled to my feet, looking around to see who’d done it. My head swam, and I wondered if I’d black out. Mike, where are you?

  My guardian angel appeared as if he’d been launched by a great force.

  “Lagarre’s son is here to avenge the banishment of his father. His disembodied Nephilim spirit is here to try to kill you, and attempt to bring this concert to a halt.”

  I thought about the fight at the dance. And the story Mike told me about Lagarre’s Nephilim son. Half angel, half demon. I needed to pray for Mike. I was sure he was in the midst of a battle. Had Lagarre’s son been the one who’d knocked me to the ground? He wanted to kill me, just like his father had.

  I shoved through the crowd, searching for Christina, Eden, and Ty, swerving from the blow to my skull. I needed more prayer warriors to join me. If Lagarre’s son and his cohorts were about to descend on this place, I needed my friends and fellow warriors by my side. Every life present was at stake.

  “Young lady,” Mr. Lutz said to Angel, who stood boldly right in front of the stage. “Please come up here.”

  A hush fell over the crowd, and they parted for the girl.

  As she inched toward the stage, I saw Ty’s head rising above all the others. Christina and Eden stood beside him. I nudged, squeezed, and wiggled my way in their direction.

  I grabbed Ty’s shirt and Eden’s arm and pulled them close. “Pray,” I whispered. “Something big is going down. Mike’s under attack. And something just hit me!”

  Eden’s lips began to move. Her eyes were still open and alert.

  Ty and Christina bowed their heads. We all joined hands and prayed silently. I kept my eyes open as I prayed so I could observe what was going on in front of me and pray accordingly.

  In the background I heard Mr. Lutz say, “Young lady, do you know that Jesus loves you?” He kneeled down closer to her face. Angel stood inches away from the speaker.

  “Go to hell!”

  The crowd chattered.

  “I love you,” Mr. Lutz said softly.

  “No you don’t.” She spat at his face. Everyone gasped.

  Mr. Lutz blinked, then pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his cheek. He calmly put the cloth back in his pocket. “I still love you. And so does God.”

  Angel’s mouth gaped open. “If Jesus loves me, then how come—”

  Shouts from across the field interrupted her question.

  Ty looked over the heads of the crowd. “A fight is breaking out. Keep praying.” All of our mouths moved silently. Several police officers pressed toward the commotion with billy clubs raised, yelling into their walkie-talkies.

  “Ty, hoist me up on your shoulders!” I knew he could hold my weight with no problem.

  As I regained a bird’s-eye view I looked back at the stage and saw Angel on her knees, sobbing. Several people wearing staff T-shirts surrounded her, laying hands on her and praying. God’s love was being demonstrated despite the tumult raging around us.

  My eyes turned toward the sky. A dark cloud hung there. The bright, sunny day disappeared. Thunder and lightning came from the cloud and penetrated the force field I’d seen earlier when praying for Mr. Lutz.

  I couldn’t get to Mike, and he couldn’t get to me. It’s what I had feared. One day we’d be in a battle, fighting for each other. He in the angelic realm, me fighting through prayer.

  I’d heard that when two or more are gathered in God’s name, He is there. We need God’s presence to overwhelm this piece of ground now.

  I spotted a head of blonde curls toward the back of the crowd. My niece, Tessa, sat on her father’s shoulders. Those curls and Brian’s muscles were unmistakable. Tessa’s head was tilted up, and her chubby little arms were lifted above her head. I choked up. Even my little niece knew how to pray in the Spirit. She probably observed the angelic realm today as I had. Brian had made sure to be here, no doubt, to support this concert with prayer. Plus, Tessa loved loud music.

  A glint of copper hair caught my eye.

  Daniel! Tessa’s angel.

  Wings sprang from behind him, unfolding like the enormous feathers of a peacock. He threw his arms wide, tilted his chin toward the sky, and closed his eyes.

  To the right of Brian and Tessa I saw Bev, her hands raised and her lips moving in silent prayer. I chuckled. I never thought to even tell her about the festival because I doubted she’d actually come. I hope she brought earplugs! She had put aside her personal taste in music to pray for the individuals who attended this festival. The fringe crowd. Knowing Bev’s special burden for young adults and teens, it made sense that she’d be here.

  I looked up again when I heard a roar from above and saw the cloud warp and twist. Flashes of blue lightning exploded from within it. It dissipated into a mist, then evaporated.

  Police officers and security guards escorted two handcuffed men to the exit.

  “Don’t stop praying,” I said to my friends. I knew Mike was still battling.

  Mr. Lutz walked up to the microphone. “If you’ve been hurt by life like this precious girl, I invite you to come to the foot of the stage. We have people here who will pray for you to experience God’s love, which is pure and free and knows no bounds. Even if you’re mad at God, I want you to come anyway.”

  Band members and people in staff T-shirts lined up in the front of the stage, looking out at the crowd, having left their posts. A few audience members inched up toward the front and talked to the staff in hushed voices. Within a few minutes more than a hundred people stood in front of Mr. Lutz, their arms raised. The sight of the staff members taking time for this most important moment humbled me.

  Thank You, Lord! Mr. Lutz hadn’t just talked about love; he’d demonstrated it with his loving attitude toward Angel, even when she lashed out in hatred.

  Pastor James came on stage, sat at the keyboard, and played a praise song that blanketed the grounds through the sound system.

  Open my spiritual eyes, Lord, so I know if there is anything else I need to pray for.

  As I prayed, hundreds more people, surrounded by angels, moved toward the stage. Volunteers laid their hands on people’s heads. One angel wrapped an arm around a young girl who’d come forward for prayer. Angels enveloped each individual with their wings.

  Mike stood in a grove of thin white pine trees just behind the stage, every fiber of his being on alert for an attack from the half-bloods who’d been harassing him for thousands of years. This
time he knew they were hell-bent on detaining him long enough to kill Olivia.

  The atmosphere around him began to vibrate, faster and faster like the wings of a hummingbird, as if the universe were about to shake itself apart. Then it did. Four demons hit him from behind and pinned him to the ground on his back, spread-eagle, leaning their forms on each of his limbs. Mike groaned, trying to roll to his side, his eyes focused on his saber. Strong, bony fingers pried away until the shield popped out of his hand and spun away. He thrashed, throwing his head to his other side, just in time to feel his sword leave his grasp. It flew in the air and whirled out of sight.

  He wondered where his backups were. Would he be rendered helpless as the evil forces hunted and killed his precious charge?

  He struggled for freedom, but the pressure bearing on his limbs threatened to break him into a thousand pieces. Inside his head he screamed, Father, I beseech You for rescue forces!

  The demons threw back the hoods hiding their faces, exposing their identity. They glared at him. Mike recognized Agathar, Lagarre’s son, and his gang of half-bloods. He’d been battling them since the Flood. Their eyes flashed yellow, the pupils as thin as those of a snake. Their faces appeared human-like aside from the curled, red, ram-like horns that rose from behind their skulls. Their green-black wings jutted from their backs.

  “This battle won’t end with my demise, and you know it,” Mike growled through clenched teeth. He squinted at the light of their eyes, which stabbed at his own.

  All four threw back their heads and cackled while crushing him further under their grasp.

  Agathar came almost nose-to-nose with Mike, the stench of his breath nearly unbearable, causing Mike to gag on the stale, dark air. “We’ve got you outnumbered,” he snarled. “Where are your angel buddies now?” He cocked his head to the side and let out a maniacal laugh. Green drool slid off his chin.

  As Mike turned his head to keep from getting spittle on his face, he saw his shield and sword lying just out of his reach.

  Where were his reinforcements? Why the delay?

  “After we finish you off we’ll tear apart your sweet Olivia.” Agathar pulled his lips back into a devilish grin, exposing two rows of mangled teeth as sharp as swords. “We won’t just kill her. We’ll dismantle her, body and soul, painfully slow, until she destroys herself and everyone around her, disgracing the character of—”his face twisted in disgust—“Him.” The other three spat black tar at the acknowledgment of the Creator.

  Mike’s heart hammered against his chest at the thought of what some of Agathar’s other minions might be doing to Olivia at this very moment. “Then I guess you’d hate for me to mention His Son, Jes-—”

  Agathar’s slimy hand slammed into Mike’s lips, causing his head to throb mercilessly. “Don’t say that . . . name.”

  If he couldn’t speak the name of Jesus, Mike knew he wouldn’t have the power to protect Olivia. Then again, he hadn’t always been able to save his charges’ lives. Sometimes the Father had told him it was time for someone to leave the earth. Other times he’d been confined for so long due to lack of prayer on the part of his charge that the enemy succeeded in destroying the life under his guardianship. He couldn’t bear the thought of life without Olivia. She was growing stronger and bolder each day. Could this gaggle of devils possibly know what a world-changer this girl had the potential to be? It was the only reason he could imagine for them being so ruthless this time. Oh, yes, they’d tempted and tried to obliterate some of his other charges, but somehow this time was different. In some way Olivia was unique. Chosen. Rare.

  “Father!” Mike shouted with every ounce of strength he could muster. As if a hot blade had sliced through soft butter, a hole ripped open the atmosphere behind his tormentors. A crackle of energy burst as blue streaks snaked out, shimmering from Gideon’s sword as he stormed toward him. Like azure lightning, the bolts slithered up his arm and covered his entire body. As Gideon thrust his free arm in and grabbed Mike’s forearm, the light transferred from him to Mike, climbing gradually, enveloping his whole body as well.

  For a split second, the demons’ attention was diverted. Mike wriggled his arm from the grasp of one monster and reached into a leather pouch hanging from his belt. He drew out a tiny glass vial and clenched it in his fist.

  Light emanated from the sword on the ground near him, making the vial’s pearl stopper flicker.

  Agathar gasped and recoiled in fear, releasing his hold on Mike. His companions vanished into thin air.

  With the lithe movement of a panther, Mike strode toward Agathar. His opponent retreated back one step for every one of Mike’s forward strides.

  Mike extended his arm, clenching the glistening vial, revealing its red-liquid contents. “That’s right,” Mike growled. “It’s the blood of Jesus!”

  With a plaintive whimper, Agathar crossed his hands in front of his face. He fell to his knees, his head hanging low.

  Mike towered over him. He placed his foot on Agathar’s shoulder.

  “I’ve been carrying this blood for two thousand years. A handful of my comrades were there when Jesus was taken from the cross. They gathered every drop of His blood they could before it fell to the ground.

  “So you’re . . . one of them?”

  “That’s right.” Mike squared his shoulders, standing straight and tall.

  “I’m a blood bearer.”

  Mike’s foe choked out a fetid scream. His skin dripped off his bones, melting into a puddle of bubbling green-and-red blood. Steam rose from the stinking pile of offal at his feet.

  With a sudden flash of light, the mass vanished. Mike’s foot fell to the grass.

  Mike turned to Gideon. Gideon placed his hand over Mike’s fingers, which still clutched the vial, and guided them toward the leather pouch.

  Mike’s grasp slackened, and the object returned to its holding place. “It’s the only thing that works with certain half-bloods. Sons and grandsons of the ones bound in chains.”

  Gideon nodded. “So I’ve learned.”

  “I had to bind Agathar for good, just as I did his father. He’ll now join him in the abyss.

  “Yes,” Gideon’s eyes widened with understanding.

  Mike recalled the swine begging Jesus not to send them to the abyss. They knew full well that if sentenced to this holding point while awaiting their final banishment in hell for eternity, they could no longer scour the Earth thirsty for another body to inhabit. Their kind only found satisfaction with possession. And severe oppression.

  “Olivia!” He ached with pain at the thought that he may be too late to save her from lingering half-blood spirits that may still be in the vicinity.

  “I must go!”

  “Go! And I’ll rejoin Christina.”

  “I’m back,” I heard Mike whisper in my ear as I stood facing the stage.

  “What happened?”

  “Lagarre’s son, Agathar, returned to avenge his father’s demise.”

  “I knew you’d been detained. I felt the vacuum.”

  “I’m so sorry, Olivia.”

  “How’d you defeat him?”

  “Suddenly, as quickly as he came, Agathar disappeared.”

  “Because of prayer?”

  “Yes.”

  My friends and I had formed a circle of prayer that had changed the course in the heavenly realm. Awesome!

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Is someone looking for these?” I turned and saw Suriel, Ty’s angel, holding a sword in one hand, a shield in the other. The tip of his spear jutted up from behind his left shoulder.

  Mike materialized enough for me to see him—just an apparition. He took the saber from Suriel and returned it to the sheath on his back. The shield vanished. “Thank you, my friend.”

  Suriel responded with deep, rumbling laughter.

  Both angels turned toward the stage. I followed their gazes and saw hundreds of people praying.

  “What a beautiful sight.” Mike sighed.

  Eden t
ouched my arm. I hugged her and Ty. I was so lucky to have these strong Christian friends at my side.

  Suriel rested his hand on Ty’s shoulder, and Cabriel stood beside Eden. Neither of my friends gave any indication that they knew their angels were there.

  I wondered if Ty would ever have the pleasure of seeing his wonderful guardian angel. Maybe I’d tell him about Suriel someday.

  Christina stepped into our group, Gideon towering above her, his hand on her shoulder where her hand rested, covering hers. I smiled at her. She winked back. I knew Christina could sense him but was not convinced she could really see him yet.

  I thanked God for allowing me to be involved in such a wonderful event, and for giving me the privilege of personally contributing, both physically and spiritually. I prayed for those who would walk out of there the same as when they entered, both Christian and non-Christian. I prayed that this event would be seared into their memories and that a seed would be planted so they would respond to God’s love and acceptance.

  Suddenly I realized that those making decisions to follow God today were targets. The battle had only begun for them. It seemed that as God’s kingdom was growing on Earth, the hounds of hell would only heighten their attack.

  I had another battle still facing me. An appointment at Dr. Stein’s office on Monday. My heart sank. Would this meeting lead me closer to “not crazy” category or right into a straitjacket?

  Chapter 24

  DR. STEIN HAD talked only to Mom today. I was left sitting in the waiting room.

  What horrible things was she saying about me?

  I had to have faith that God could deliver me from being committed to a mental institution.

  Mom entered the waiting room with her chin held high as if she’d convinced Dr. Stein I was crazy. I was confused. She’d begun to soften with me over the last few weeks. But she still seemed determined to push counseling on me.

  As Mom and I drove home in the car, I gathered my nerve to ask, “So, what did you and Dr. Stein talk about?”

  I fidgeted with my hair as I awaited her response.