Angels of Humility: A Novel

by Jackie Macgirvin

  The phone rang at Sarah’s, but Sarah wasn’t answering. She’d had a call from Bernice after Bernice hung up from Wilma. Carol called too after chatting with Wilma, and so did speed dial numbers five and seven. She’d enjoyed talking with Carol; it was just nice to feel included, but something happened when she was talking to Bernice. She couldn’t get that verse out of her head:

  Telling lies about others is as harmful as hitting them with an ax, wounding them with a sword, or shooting them with a sharp arrow.4 Those are all dangerous, destructive weapons, she thought.

  In her devotional yesterday she had read in the book of James that if a person can’t control his tongue his religion is worthless.5 She breathed a sigh of relief when the phone stopped ringing. She couldn’t shake the sick feeling in her stomach. Oh, God, help me. Help me to be a mature woman. I’ve got so much to learn. Please forgive me for gossiping just to fit in. Put a zipper on my big fat mouth.

  Malta looked at Joel and burst out laughing. Soon both angels were chuckling. “Prayers don’t get any more sincere than that!” said Malta.

  “Sarah,” said Joel, “the Lord, in His mercy, is entrusting you with spiritual gifts, intercession for Pastor Paul and others. Instead of gossiping about him, now you’ll be praying fervently. You’ll even weep for him.”

  Sarah’s gift of intercession was beginning with a burden for the new interim pastor and her local church, but before she departed for Heaven, it would encompass the world.

  Sarah, still mulling over the meaning of the verse from Joel and Malta, repented again for her gossiping. Forgive me, Lord. I’ve slandered Pastor Paul, and I don’t know anything about him. He comes to our church the very first day, just out of seminary. The poor man; he must have been so nervous. I’m sure he wanted to do well. Lord bless Paul and his family. Bless his time here, whether short or long. Speak to him about his future and the church’s.

  She continued praying, and when she glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner, 20 minutes had passed. Maybe I am an intercessor, she thought. She smiled as she remembered the last meeting she had with Pastor Hall before he left. Sarah had her dog-eared humility book marked up with questions. She was so grateful that she’d had Pastor Hall to go to for answers.

  “I’ve been studying about prayer, and I do like to pray.”

  “You could very well have a gift of intercession.”

  “But it’s not even on the list of gifts.”

  “My opinion is that it’s not on the list because every Christian is supposed to do it. It’s like tithing; it’s not on the list, either.” Sarah nodded. “My gift is as a pastor and a teacher; that’s a very public gift. Intercession is a gift that comes with hiddenness. You’ll be alone praying in your home for people you don’t even know, and they will be touched by your prayers. You can pray for individuals; you can pray for war-torn nations. God is not limited by time or distance. Intercessors are the hidden workhorses of the Kingdom, but that’s ok. God says He sees what we do in hiddenness, and He will reward us openly.6

  “Can you explain something else about pride? The book said there is pride in my heart and that there is a demon of pride. That confused me.”

  “We get hit from the inside and the outside, don’t we? We all struggle with certain internal areas; it could be temper, addiction, selfishness, pride, anything. These are in us and we are to actively fight against them. For instance, if I have greed in my heart I can bet that demon will be trying to take advantage of me and make me stumble because it’s a place of weakness. Remember last week we said that we don’t fight against people, but against evil spirits?”

  Sarah shook her head but remained quiet. “What’s going on?” asked Pastor Hall leaning toward her. “It’s just that I lived 71 years thinking that demons were like werewolves and monsters. It makes me so sad. I guess it’s better to know the truth late, than never.”

  “Sarah, it’s no sin to be untaught, only unteachable. Remember, nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”7

  More revelation about prayer came the next day in the grocery store checkout line when she glanced at the cover of a woman’s magazine. The model looked about 14 years old and wasn’t wearing much more than a sultry, come-hither look. Dear Lord, what kind of parents would let their child pose like that? She stopped; she hadn’t really meant it as a prayer so much as just a comment, but Joel whispered to her, “Pray for her, she’s anorexic. She’s 15 years old, and the pressure she feels to look perfect and the shame from her anorexia causes her to cut herself.”

  Sarah realized right then that she didn’t have to limit her prayers to people that she knew.

  From then on, she prayed for every model and movie star on every magazine cover at the grocery store, for every person on billboards or in advertisements, to be saved. She also prayed for whoever was at the receiving end of any siren she heard. While waiting for a train to pass, she prayed for each of the drifters who painted the graffiti on the speeding railway cars. And God, don’t forget those who painted on the other side where I can’t see. Once she even tuned in to the baseball game just so she could pray for the players.

  Pastor Hall had also helped Sarah understand that what she’d called “her premonition” all her life was really a gift from God called prophecy. He gave her some scriptural examples8 and explained the difference between someone who is a prophet, which is rare, and someone who has a prophetic gifting, like Sarah, which is much more common.

  “The Lord will put words or an impression in your mind about what He’s thinking about another person. Prophetic ministry just means passing these words on to the person God intended to hear them at a particular time. These words are to strengthen, encourage, and comfort.9 God can speak in many ways, but most of the time it’s just an impression. A thought comes to you that isn’t yours. The apostle Paul said that we should earnestly desire spiritual gifts, but especially prophecy.”10

  At first, Sarah was equally excited about her prophetic gifting, but after sharing some of her impressions with a few of her Sunday school class members and getting the cold shoulder, Sarah backed way off. She couldn’t have known that they wouldn’t receive a prophetic word from anyone who was a brand-new believer or a new member of their class. After all, many of them had attended that church for well over 30 years.

  She continued getting impressions from the Lord about people, but after the chilly reception from her Sunday school classmates, and after reading in the Old Testament about how Joseph’s family got angry with him for the same thing,11 she decided that sharing her impressions would only get her in trouble. Joel and Malta encouraged Sarah to act on these words from the Lord, but with no results. They even tried to encourage receptivity among the members of the Sunday school class, but they had too much spiritual pride to listen to a new Christian.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Heaven. Don’t miss it for the world.”

  Kenneth Cope1

  “After John D. Rockefeller died someone asked his accountant, ‘How much money did he leave?’ The reply was classic: ‘He left…all of it.’”2

  Paul was in the church office every day the next week, going in early and leaving late. Kathy unpacked all the boxes, arranged as much of the furniture as she could, and with gifts of grace from Valoe, only let one sarcastic comment slip. As she was unloading the last box of books, she noticed a book on humility by Andrew Murray. I always wanted to read this, and I never got around to it. I think I’ll start this today.

  “Excellent choice,” said Valoe with a huge smile. “Excellent choice.” She plopped down on the couch, but before she could begin reading, Paul came through the front door. He looked around. “Wow, honey! What a job you’ve done. Look at the family pictures on the mantle.” He pulled her off the couch and gave her a big hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help. I’ve been so busy getting settled in at the church. But you have done a great job, you really have!” Paul’s apology released the resentment that
had been building in Kathy and she hugged him back.

  Now that everything was unpacked, the little brown Tudor-style house with the peeling paint was becoming a home, at least a temporary one. Fortunately, very little remodeling had been done over the years (probably for lack of finances), and much of the home’s original charm was still intact. The rich oak trim had not been painted in the entry, living room, or dining room.

  The living room was dominated by a gray stone fireplace and on both sides were glass front bookshelves which Kathy had carefully decorated with books and well-placed knick-knacks. Family photos and aromatic candles lined the dark-stained mantle.

  There were three bedrooms, which allowed Paul to have an office. Jordan’s bedroom, on the second floor, had a sloped ceiling which followed the roofline. His closet door was only about 4 feet tall. The roof continued to slant down inside the closet, forming a small, triangular shaped room—perfect for a little boy’s hiding place.

  Jordan was a generally happy, chubby toddler with his mother’s brunette curly hair and his father’s good looks. Although it was totally undeveloped, Jordan’s prophetic gifting allowed him to sometimes sense the presence of his angel, Hael. This large, jovial guardian was constantly saving Jordan from scrapes, bumps, spills, and multiple boo-boos.

  Kathy loved being a mother, and she constantly doted on Jordan. She frequently split her time between household responsibilities and imaginative games.

  “Mommy, Mommy, you can’t find me. I hiding again.”

  Kathy finished transferring the clothes from the washer to the dryer and prepared for an all-out search. They’d played the game dozens of times in the small dorm room. She headed down the hall toward Jordan’s room, checking other rooms as she walked.

  “I bet you’re in the bathroom. No. I bet you’re in the hall closet. No.” She entered his bedroom. “You must be in the sock drawer,” she exclaimed, pulling the drawer open to Jordan’s delight. Muffled laughter escaped from under the closet door. “No, not in the sock drawer. You must be in the bookshelf. I know, you’re on page seven of Good Night Moon,” More laughter emanated from the closet. “Why didn’t I think of it before? You’re obviously under the bed. Well, there’s no Jordan here. Where could he be? I know, the toy chest! I bet you’re under all the toys, inside the hand puppet. NO!” she said, in mock frustration. “You’re not in the hand puppet. Where could you be?” She sat on the floor and buried her face in her hands. “I think Jordan went away. I can’t find him anywhere. That makes me so sad. Oh, boo hoo!”

  The closet door flung open. “Mommy, I right here!” he shrieked as he ran and jumped on her lap. After plenty of tickles and hugs he chirped, “You go. I hide there again,” as he headed for his closet with Hael, his smiling guardian angel, tip-toeing behind.

  Sunday morning arrived. Paul had spent the week preparing the sermon-to-end-all-sermons. It had to top last week’s, and last week’s was one of his best. He’d used it for finals in his preaching class.

  “This is your chance to shine,” whispered Pride. “You’ve worked hard all week on this sermon. You know it backward and forward. Show ‘em your stuff.”

  “Paul,” said Saldu, “it’s always about pointing people to Him; it’s not about your reputation. If they leave talking about your great wisdom instead of what a great salvation they’ve been given, then pride has overtaken you, the people have been robbed, and the devil has won the day.”

  Paul felt conviction over his giddy anticipation of a stellar performance. Then he shrugged it off. I‘ve worked hard on this sermon all week; there’s no reason I can’t look good as well as give deep teaching about the Lord, too.

  Starting his sermons with a joke was something his favorite seminary professor had done, and Paul had carried on the tradition. It seemed to help form a bond with the audience. How can you not like someone if you just laughed at his joke? Paul had the perfect joke to go with his text; he’d even prayed for just the right one. But he couldn’t have foreseen that the Lord was going to use that joke to truly change someone’s life.

  Paul grabbed the lectern with both hands. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and scanned the congregation. I think there’s a few more this week; that’s always a good sign. Lord help me.

  Joel and Malta were seated on either side of Sarah, who was sitting by herself toward the back on the left side of the church.

  “A wealthy man strikes a deal with God. God agrees that when the man dies he can bring one suitcase, filled with anything he chooses, with him to Heaven.”

  “Oh, this is a good one,” said Joel. “Have you heard it?”

  “No,” replied Malta, with a grin, “but, if you’ll be quiet, I will.”

  “The man spends weeks pondering what he should take. Maybe diamonds and jewels; maybe money. After much thought and agony, he finally decides he will take his gold. One day he dies, and when he gets to Heaven he has his suitcase. St. Peter tries to take his bag, but he insists he has permission from God to bring the suitcase and its contents. St. Peter checks with God and then tells him, ‘Yes, you can bring the suitcase into Heaven. This must be very special. What did you bring?’ The man proudly opens his suitcase. St. Peter takes a step back in shock and says, ‘You brought pavement?’”

  All but two of the congregation roared. Wilma didn’t laugh because she’d already made up her mind she didn’t like Paul, and therefore, didn’t approve of anything he said, funny joke or not. The other nonlaugher was Sarah. With the help of Joel and Malta, the joke pierced her spirit. She was being touched in such a powerful way that she didn’t even hear the rest of Paul’s sermon-to-end-all sermons. She could see his mouth moving, but was totally distracted by the punch line, “You brought pavement?”

  “That’s right Sarah,” suggested Joel, “what must Heaven be like if God lines the streets with what humans consider their most valuable asset? Think of it this way, Fort Knox is crammed full of heavenly pavement. All the material possessions that you hold dear will eventually mean nothing, less than nothing; they are totally insignificant. When you die, you’ll leave them all behind.”

  Her Bible was laying on her lap opened to Matthew 6:19–21. “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven…. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

  Malta whispered, “Life on earth is a vapor, Sarah. Everything here will pass away. Don’t invest in the wrong kingdom. You will leave it all behind. You should be investing all you have, all your time, all your energy, everything for Him. Remember, you can’t take it with you, but you can send it on ahead.”3

  Sarah had a spiritual paradigm shift: I can see it now. All the possessions I collect here, they’ll all be left here. But God’s Kingdom—it lasts forever. Tears welled in her eyes as she repented. Jesus, please forgive me. I’ve spent my life so foolishly, worrying about things that will all end up in some garage sale when I die. I’ve worried about my bank balance and my house, clothes, furniture, how I look, and what people thought of me. I’ve wasted my life working for the wrong kingdom. Help me to value things that are lasting, the things that You say are valuable. Help me to live wholeheartedly for Your eternal Kingdom with the time I’ve got left. I know it’s not much, but I want to give it all to You.

  Joel turned to Malta and smiled. “Father never lets a prayer like that go unanswered. We’ll be very busy with Sarah.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “The Only hope of a decreasing self is an increasing Christ.”

  F.B. Meyer1

  “They that know God will be humble, and they that know themselves, cannot be proud.”

  John Flavel2

  Sarah had never read the Bible growing up so she didn’t even have a grid for God being active in anyone’s life. She certainly didn’t understand what the Lord was going to do in hers. The Lord, in His mercy, was helping her to redeem her wasted time, enabling her to spe
nd the last of her life serving His Kingdom, and preparing her for a good death. She didn’t fully understand the principle of heavenly rewards, and she certainly had no way of knowing that she would reap more eternal rewards than most people who are Christians all their lives.

  She couldn’t see Joel and Malta, who had taken up permanent residence with her. At night, they stood on either side of her bed, vigilant against the enemy’s attacks. They needed no sleep and spent the night hours praying for Sarah and joining in the continuous heavenly worship around God’s throne. In the spiritual realm, both angels glowed brightly with the Lord’s glory, lighting Sarah’s bedroom like a thousand candles. Since Sarah’s natural eyes were unable to gaze into the spiritual realm, she could see only darkness.

  “The Lord really enlightened her today through Paul’s joke,” said Malta. “I think she understands now that the Lord’s Kingdom has nothing to do with status or possessions.”

  “Pride drives humans to fight for all those temporal things,” replied Joel. “Satan’s deception is so great. It’s all a bankrupt system that is passing away. It’s like fighting for a first class cabin on the Titanic. The whole thing is going down.”

  “His Kingdom is about being a servant to the least on earth and being exalted later. Humility fixes its eyes on God’s Kingdom, and never wavers.”

  That night Sarah had a dream. She saw herself walking around her neighborhood. Her neighbors’ houses were painted black; even the bushes, flowers, and grass were black. There were no lights on inside any of the houses, even though it was dusk. She walked around the block and arrived back at her house, which was painted its normal color, but a blindingly bright light was shining out from every window. It was so bright she almost couldn’t look toward it. It’s like the sun has been captured and squeezed inside my house. Then she woke up.