by Lauren Wynn
Providence
On Angels’ Wings
The Assignment
There is a first for everything, and this is one of mine.
I stand before the panel of archangels. A funnel of golden light shines down, illuminating each of them. It’s the kind of light you’d see streaming in a window early in the morning, not as bright as midday, and hazy with flecks of silver, floating like dusty air. I scan my eyes across the panel, finally focusing on Gabriel, who is situated in the middle. Even in the golden radiance of his angelic form, his facial features are well defined: square chin, deep inset eyes, teal green in color just like the rest of us, and a broad pointy nose. He appears handsome and worldly, although all of the archangels have that similar mature air about them.
The briefing is short. They all acknowledge and confirm my ability to transition into the human world and succeed in my role on earth. It all sounds very official. Then again, everything Gabriel says sounds official—and formal, very formal, the way he enunciates each and every syllable with precision.
A single silver speck in the light catches my eye. My mind begins to wander, thinking about how different this world will be from everything I have known so far…or will it really be different? What will my “role on earth” be? Who will I meet? How will I feel? Why are they choosing me, now? And all my self-confidence that I have built up throughout my existence comes spiraling downward. I need more time, I’m not quite ready, I haven’t learned enough about human life. And just as that panic-stricken thought crosses my mind, I snap back to the deep, calming sound of Gabriel’s voice.
“You are now dismissed,” he says. “You know your assignment. Alexander, have no fear, we would not send you if you were not ready. Leo and Grant will be awaiting your arrival. They will show you the ropes, answer your questions, and help you adjust.”
He gives me a nod and a wave of his radiant golden hand confirming he’s finished, which is also my cue to leave. A near smile flashes at the corners of his mouth but vanishes as quickly as it came as he focuses his attention elsewhere.
My mental panic appears to have gone unnoticed, and I hope I didn’t miss much of Gabriel’s speech. As I scan my eyes across the panel, the archangels don’t seem to have noticed either. The features of their glowing faces convey complete confidence in me. Michael and the others nod in affirmation from their high-backed, antique wooden thrones, which are placed upon a crescent-shaped, raised, marble platform. I glance one last time around the magnificent, terra-cotta-colored, circular room with the sky-blue ceiling and antique-white marble floor and wonder if the other angels feel as anxious and nervous as I do after being assigned to earthly duty.
A trace of comfort swims through me knowing that Leo and Grant are going to be with me. They have both been in the human world for a few years, and I knew them before their transition. Thinking of them replaces some of my anxiety with excitement. I imagine listening to all of Leo’s no-doubt exaggerated and comical stories and Grant’s thoroughly-analyzed lessons learned from his first year as an angel on earth. I haven’t seen them since they left, which is probably a good thing.
There are only three reasons angels come back, the first being peace on earth…which is a nice thought, but humans tend to really enjoy free will and not always in a positive way; this reason has yet to happen. The second reason is that angels can come back if their purpose is fulfilled, assignment completed. This happens in rare instances. Typically they are reassigned to a new location before coming back here. And the last reason is that they are forced back by the archangels if they believe their position or assignment is jeopardized. This can be as minor as excessive showboating or shirking their duties, or as severe as falling. And, well, if they don’t send Leo back for showing off, they certainly won’t send me. I do my best to stay out of the limelight. As for the severe, it is hard for me to even fathom giving up my angelic existence, but there are some angels whose desires for human beings and things become so great, they rebel and choose to fall to earth, be stripped of their wings, and assume a mortal life. Not worth the price you have to pay. Although, if I’m being totally honest, aside from mortality…which is, well, pretty freaking massive, I’m not exactly sure what that price is, but I know high doesn’t begin to describe it. I have learned the transition sparks a whole new set of human feelings and emotions that we don’t exhibit here in the angelic realm, and that is equally scary and incredibly fascinating. I can’t wait to experience all of them.
My instinct is to hide out and internalize a situation such as this; to think about it, process it, determine how I feel about it, and then do it. Long process, I know. I’m a tad, um, particular, that way. So, before my descent, I attempt to prepare myself. I’ve heard the descent itself is the easy part. “Just go along for the ride,” they said. It’s the transition to a whole new existence that I need to prepare for.
I assume my spiritual position.
“Oohhmm... Oohmmm…” just kidding, that doesn’t really work for me. Meditation and the whole lotus-blossom thing work for some, just not me.
So, I close my eyes and go to my quiet place here, where it’s bright, fresh, like a bluish-white sea with a deep cranberry horizon. I relax and breathe, inhaling the wonderful fragrance of fresh cotton with a hint of pine. Lush grass makes a soft carpet under my radiant golden feet. It’s cool, each blade coated with a moist, thin layer, almost like morning dew. For a moment, I imagine an old oak tree with a trunk the size of four stocky men. It appears. I lean back against it, sliding slowly to the grass-covered ground beneath an umbrella of leaves that tower above me, the leaves sprouting from every branch with each passing thought. The leaves slowly uncurl until the tree is full. It seems fitting to manifest a beautiful spring day. It is the season of growth after all, and I am quite certain this journey is going to be filled with a plethora of character-building experiences.
I gaze across the cranberry horizon, and my memory flies back to the beginning. God created us angels, in between creating heaven and earth. At the beginning of time He made us to be His messengers, guides, protectors, deliverers, encouragers, and prayer-answerers, spiritual leaders or warriors, so to speak, for the coming humans. Over time, which is a completely different concept here than on earth, He has slowly sent more and more angels to earth, as the human population rises. There are millions of us. Many millions are still here, many millions have already made their descent, and very few ever come back. And generally when they do, it isn’t long before they are reassigned. The handful that choose the fallen path, well, we don’t see them when they do come back here, if they do come back—at least I haven’t. And those that were cast out very early on, the ones whose wings turned black, they will remain in the sphere between earth and hell. We’ve been warned about them, but we are much stronger. It would take a swarm of them to take one of us down. Humans, on the other hand, can fall prey to their tormenting grip.
Similar to humans, we were uniquely created. We each have a different role and while in this realm, we don’t possess the physical human form. God will provide us with whatever we need expand His Kingdom on earth. And so, for some of us, myself included, that means I will have the ability to assume human flesh—well, the look of it anyway. Some of my work I’ll be able to do in my celestial golden body, which, while similar to a human body in that I have facial features, arms, legs, hands, etcetera, does not reside within flesh but rather in a golden glow, a dense body of light, if you will. If my work requires being physical or visible, I will take on my human form. So, depending on the task, I control which form I assume.
“Hey there, you!” a sweet voice sings.
I turn my head to find a pair of familiar eyes peeking at me from behind
my tree.
“So, heading out, are you?” She leaps out from behind the trunk.
I nod.
“I was afraid that’s what they called you in for,” she says, sliding down the tree to situate herself on the grass next to me. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m good,” I lie.
If I were in my human form, this would probably be the time when I would give myself a few good slaps in the face, shake my arm and leg muscles like a swimmer preparing for a race, and do some deep breathing…because this is freaking huge. It’s not some little road trip or short vacation. This is IT—capital I, capital T—what I’ve been groomed for since my first day in existence. I’m getting ready to make the leap. The world as I know it will never be the same again, ever. But I’m ready, I’m really ready, and confident.
I think.
“Uh, helloo! Zan, did you hear me?” she asks, placing her hand on mine.
“What, sorry, no, I’m in a daze.”
“That’s all right. There’s a lot to think about. I was just saying you are totally ready for this, Zan. You are like the smartest angel I know. You’re going to be great, you know. Absolutely fabulous, actually.” A smile plays on Lenox’s mouth.
“Thanks.” I squeeze her hand.
Lenox has been one of my best friends since Grant and Leo left. And once the archangels announced the location of my assignment, she started helping me brush up on the local language, culture, laws, and politics. Until now, I didn’t know when exactly I would be going, but I knew it was coming. I’m sure I’ll miss her, but I’ve been waiting so long for my assignment that I’m excited to finally get to do what I was created for. And even though I’m moments away from leaving her, possibly forever, she sits next to me acting her normal cheery self and encouraging me as she always does.
“Are you sure I studied enough?” I ask, fiddling with my fingers.
“Absolutely! I mean, you did have me as a tutor, so, of course.” She laughs and leans her head on my golden shoulder.
I have had plenty of time to learn this stuff, but this is one of those instances when I wish the all-knowing attribute would have transferred to angels—you know—just in case.
“I’m gonna miss you.” she mutters.
“I’ll miss you too.” I tilt my head against hers.
“You’re going to be great, though, and who knows, maybe someday they will decide to assign me where you’re going.”
“I don’t know, Lenox. If you help the others as much as you’ve helped me, they might not let you leave. They’ll keep you here as a tutor.” Could be true, she is the queen of flash cards.
I take her arm against my chest and give a slight squeeze and slowly ease myself off the grassy carpet, pulling her up with me.
“It’s time, isn’t it? You’ve got the serious face on.”
I take a deep breath. “It is.”
Lenox leans forward giving me two quick pats on the back. “I hate good-byes, so take care of yourself.” she says quickly, and runs off into my cranberry horizon, kicking up a trail of pink roses, like dust billowing from a dirt path.
“Bye,” I whisper to myself, smiling at the friendship flowers she’s manifesting for me.
In mental preparation for my descent, I close my eyes. I am ready for this, I think. I am ready for this. I repeat over and over again quietly to myself: Remain a spirit, calm and centered. The last thing I want to do is to freak out some unknowing human by appearing in front of someone unannounced, wings out, screaming, and disoriented, so I continue to remind myself of these three things. That would be a bad way to begin my journey. Plus, Leo would never let me hear the end of it.
The long, grayish-brown, stone-walled hallway welcomes me. It’s warmed by the golden light as I pass each arched window, the same silvery speckles floating in the light. A grass carpet grows and rolls with me as I pass through the long hallway, popping up in between the large triangular stones beneath my feet. I can hear angel voices echoing off the walls. The sound is beautiful, peaceful, and deep, like an ocean swirling around me. As I reach the end, I enter into a circular stone structure with a floor that looks similar to a sun dial. Grass and small yellow and white flowers sprout up in between the stones—no ceiling, only the sight of what you would consider a starry night, a breathtakingly beautiful, starry night. It’s as if someone threw the shiny, silvery, dust-like diamonds into the deep, navy night sky, leaving them suspended. I look back down the hallway from which I have just come. My grassy path is gone, replaced by a five-foot circular grass carpet, intermixed with the yellow and white flowers, now encircling where I stand. I take my last few deep breaths, inhaling the aroma of fresh cotton with a hint of pine. I hope I encounter that essence again on earth to remind me of this very moment, the moment my existence changes forever.
One last time, I look at myself, taking a mental picture of the radiant glow of my golden body, unsure if it will be this brilliant where I’m going. I wave my arm watching the streak of light left behind by its luminance. I close my eyes a final time and whisper, “remain a spirit, calm and centered.” I feel a strong gust of wind encircling me, the angel voices gradually singing louder and faster. I feel a heavy pull like nothing I’ve felt before, not painful, but strong, tugging at my entire being like the moon’s pull on the tide, and my white-feathered wings expand.
The Ropes
I open my eyes, calmly scanning the landscape. Peering south, I stand at the edge of a cappuccino-colored, wide river. Despite the color, it is actually quite pretty. It’s early, nearly sunrise, of what looks to be a clear, but cold day. I circle around, and just over the hill the downtown pops up with a condensed group of large buildings, some new, shiny metal, or gray marble and cement, some old, reddish-orange brick, but all making up a very attractive cityscape at the edge of the Ohio River with rolling hills in the background, browned by the leafless winter.
My assignment brought me here, to Cincinnati. A city in peril is probably a stretch compared with other parts of the world, but certainly a city with opportunity. The opportunity goes much beyond the sizable population of homeless and poverty-stricken to the average person who’s hurting, lonely, and troubled. See, I’m here as an angel of hope, removing loneliness, inspiring confidence, whatever it takes to get them back on the right path, their right path. The darkness comes from within them and I’m here to turn that to light.
I hope.
A shuffle sounds from behind me. Just as I begin to turn around, Grant yells, “Zan, welcome. You made it.”
I welcome the reassurance of a familiar voice, and I prefer to be called by my nickname Zan, short for Alexander. “Grant, you’re looking well, my friend.”
“So say the ladies,” he says with a rather humorous confidence.
Grant has very defined facial features, a rounded chin and nose, a friendly smile, kind eyes, dark olive-toned skin, and dark brown hair that hangs down almost to his eyes before slightly curling. “But we’ll fill you in on all that, and, well, everything, when we meet Leo. Oh…and you can change now. Your newbie glow is blinding me.” He laughs and covers his eyes. “Only kidding.”
Before I’m even able to think, I change into my human form.
“Whoa, wings in, man,” Grant says.
I quickly retract my wings and the slits in my white linen shirt disappear. I wonder for a moment if I should laugh at the irony of “wings in, man.” Very amusing.
He gives me a giant bear hug with his, as he refers to them, “chiseled” arms (more exposed than they should be for an early morning in January in Cincinnati), and smacks me on my back. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” he says as he gives a quick pat on my shoulder, and we head to meet Leo along the cement riverside walkway to a grassy green park at the east edge of downtown.
Off in the distance I notice Leo’s milk-chocolate hand waving as he takes a seat on the black rubber swing.
“Sorry, I’m late, Zan,” Leo yells. “I had a bit of work to wrap up under the o
verpass when you first arrived.” He throws a quick thumb over his shoulder, noting the direction. “You know, saving lives, clothing the naked, feeding the hungry.”
“Kissing babies,” I add.
He opens his mouth and breathes two short breaths as he waves his knuckles past his mouth before shining them on his crisp white shirt. He looks up at me with his teal eyes showing a joyful pride. “All in a day’s work, Zan. All in a day’s work.”
“It’s good to see you, man. You haven’t lost your touch for exaggeration.” We share a hug before each taking a seat on a swing to get down to business.
Leo is a bit shorter than Grant and me, lean, though muscular, with a personality that would outshine anyone, if he let it. His only inkling of sin is the way he exaggerates or embellishes his stories, which fortunately for him, doesn’t really count. I’d say they were salt-of-the-earth, if angels could be something of this earth.
“So, first order of business,” Grant says, standing like a professor in front of Leo and me as we rest comfortably on our swings. “We’ll meet here every morning just before dawn. With all that you will see and feel here, you’ll need it. We’re here for each other. Leo and I have been meeting here daily since we arrived.”
Leo holds up his hand to Grant for a quick fist bump. Grant just rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and obliges, tilting his head toward me with squinted eyes, conveying that while he’s trying to be serious, there is no hope of getting out of the we’re-brothers fist bump.
“Next up…” Grant begins, “housing. While housing isn’t entirely necessary since we don’t sleep, eat, or need to stay warm, it is nice to have a place to spread our wings, collect ourselves, and recenter—”
“And man, if you have wings as big as mine, you’ll need it to prevent some major cramping.” Leo interrupts.
I close my eyes and shake my head. “Some things never change. Still comparing wing span, huh?” I shift my swing toward him and give him a light punch in the gut. “My wings may be smaller, but my feathers are softer.” I smile, happy to be back with these two jokers. God loves a sense of humor.
