Angels of Humility: A Novel

by Jackie Macgirvin

  Saldu was making less progress with his charge. Paul was pacing, sweating, even cursing under his breath, refusing to listen or be comforted. The black, crablike body of Self-Pity clung to Paul’s shoulder and hissed, “This is just a conspiracy. This is a bunch of old people who need to die in the wilderness so God can bring the visionaries into the Promised Land.” Saldu grimaced. He hated it when the enemy twisted God’s precious Word for their benefit.

  That’s right, thought Paul, this is a great progressive plan for God’s Kingdom, and these old people with no faith and no vision for the future are messing it up.

  Saldu came close to Paul, and Self-Pity leapt off his shoulder to escape the angel’s radiant glory. The oily spirit landed on the floor, baring his yellow fangs and hissing.

  “Paul, you’ve forgotten that nothing can come your way that Father doesn’t allow. Even what seems like a defeat to you becomes an opportunity that He can use for your good. You just need to trust Him instead of trying to get what you want by manipulating every situation.”

  Paul considered the thought, but if he was voted out, his pride couldn’t handle it. The anticipation of facing the crowd and the humiliation was more than he thought he could stand. It played on all his insecurities and rejection issues from his past. The dark spirits were drawn to him again, feeding on his fear, and he was giving them his undivided attention. Saldu sighed and took a few steps back.

  The vote was finally tallied; it had been recounted several times because it was so close. Paul was back on the front row with Kathy. Mike was behind the lectern with an unpleasant look on his face. “By a vote of 72 to 69 the church has voted to remove Paul as pastor. Meeting is adjourned.”

  CHAPTER 36

  “While grace for salvation is free, building a storehouse in Heaven is costly. It will cost us every day, all day long. As we extend ourselves, we run the race here in order to apprehend the prize of Heaven.”

  Shawn Bolz1

  Breakfast, lunch, and dinner continued to be humiliating for Sarah. Learning to let others do things for her that she could no longer do for herself was harder than she’d ever imagined. Therapy wasn’t progressing like the doctor had hoped, and although the staff hadn’t said it yet, Sarah got the impression that unless the Lord healed her, she’d never walk again. She watched jealously as other patients moved slowly up and down the hall with the help of a walker.

  The residents who dined at her table were in such poor health they could barely talk or even remember. She also resented how the staff patronized her. It made her feel like a stupid, incompetent child. She declined the offer to help put together a puzzle with some of the other residents. She couldn’t work up the motivation to introduce herself or join in the activities, most of which she felt were beneath her. Her mood fluctuated wildly between gritting her teeth in an attempt to praise and outright despair.

  “Miss Sarah,” said the cheerful voice of the activities director, “We’re watching a movie. Can I wheel you out there?”

  “No, I think I’ll pass.”

  “We’re having popcorn; you’d better think it over.”

  “I just want to be by myself, thanks; but can you roll me in front of the sliding glass door? I do like the view out the back. Everything is so green. One more thing, can you hand me my glasses and Bible?” She let out a deep sigh of discouragement as she sat in her wheelchair watching the sun sink behind the trees. Joel looked at Malta. “You’re the worshiper,” he pulled his flaming sword in jest and pointed it at him, “Get something started.” Malta played a melody on his flute and without even realizing it, Sarah began humming along.

  The spirits of Discouragement, Despair, and Depression hissed toward Malta, then turned their attention to Sarah.

  “Why should you praise Him? You’re living in this old age home that reeks of urine. Is that how you deserve to end your life?”

  The sun was disappearing below the tree line as Sarah stared out the window. A tear ran down her cheek.

  “Hasn’t He abandoned you?” whispered Despair. “Really, hasn’t He?”

  “Sarah,” said Joel, “the more you praise, even when you don’t feel like it, the more you will feel like it. It’s a virtuous cycle. What you do as an act of your will, God graces to become a natural part of your life.” Sarah stared into the twilight contemplating Joel’s suggestion. Slowly she began nodding her head, then with more determination.

  Malta was surprised when she blurted out, “As an act of my will, I will praise You. Whether You heal me or not, I will praise You. If I never get out of this wheelchair again, I will praise You. If I die in this horrid facility and never get to go home again, I will praise You.” She raised her withered arms and began to sing.

  Discouragement, Despair, and Depression were momentarily stunned, then fled the room shrieking. Angelic intervention wasn’t needed; Sarah’s confession had sent them away.

  “That’s my little warrior princess,” beamed Joel. “Resist the devil and he will flee.2 Sarah, your weapons are mighty against the enemy’s kingdom. He is a defeated foe. He is under your feet. He only has the power you give him.”

  The three of them had a full-fledged worship service, and by the time Sarah finished singing, she actually felt joyful. I haven’t felt like this for so long. God, You are so good, even if my circumstances aren’t what I’d like. Lord, I deserved Hell and only Hell; any goodness that has come this way in my earthly life is a bonus. Help me to have Your mind. You laid down Your deity, left Heaven’s riches, and stepped into humanity and humbled yourself unto death on the cross for me. Amazing!

  Barbara called to tell Sarah the news. She prayed for Paul and his family, the church and the jail. Then she forced herself to pray in the Spirit while she read, even though she wondered if her prayers were really accomplishing much.

  She had no way of knowing she was praying for the safety of an unsaved motorcycle rider in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Bob was traveling to Muskogee to visit his mother for the weekend. For her birthday he promised her he would attend church with her. It was planned that he would be convicted of his sins and accept the Lord, unless Satan could bring the glorious process to a grinding halt, which he was trying to do with a vengeance.

  Under the influence of the monstrous spirit of Death, an inebriated driver was headed south driving a van. Bob was headed east. They were slated to meet at the next intersection. The inebriated driver would run the stop sign, crash into Bob, and take his life. Demons circled over the intersection like hungry buzzards, propelled by their leathery wings. Waiting—hoping—to carry away the soul of one driver, possibly both if they got lucky.

  Sarah continues to pray in tongues for God to spare Bob’s life, although she didn’t know that. When Bob was a mile from the intersection, Sarah’s mind begins to drift. She looks at the books on the bed and remembers that they are library books that need to be returned. Who will I get to take them back for me? I hate to impose on Barbara. She does so much for me already.”

  One half mile apart.

  Maybe I’ll just renew them again. I wonder how many times you can renew books? This will be the third time.

  One quarter mile.

  Sarah let go of the distraction and starts praying in tongues again. A thought popped into Bob’s head: I’m really thirsty; I should get something to drink…

  One eighth of a mile.

  …but I hate to lose the time.

  Another thought comes to him, You’ve got to get gas anyway, just pull over now.

  Bob glanced at his gas gauge and hit his right-turn indicator. Sarah’s weak petitions through the strength of the Holy Spirit were enough to thwart the forces of darkness.

  At Maine Street and 22 highway, the van barreled through the stop sign. No one was there to land in the gnarled talons of the waiting demons.

  Sarah stopped praying and said to herself, “Maybe I’ll just buy the books; there are only three of them, anyway.”

  Sandy, the aide, came in to put her to bed.

&
nbsp; “How are you tonight, Ms. Sarah?” She thought for a moment and knew her attitude was her choice. She decided to be positive.

  “Well, now that you mention it, I’m great because I know that God loves me, and more than just loving me, He really likes me, and that makes me very happy.”

  “I wish I knew He liked me.”

  “Are you a Christian?”

  “Yeah, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to get my act together. I’ve got too much sin in my life.” She looked at Sarah briefly and then glanced away embarrassed. “I know He’s always mad at me—with good reason.”

  As Sandy helped Sarah brush her teeth, use the toilet, get into her pajamas, and then to bed, she got to hear how God loves her too, even in her weakness.

  “Sandy, don’t let the devil lie to you. There are two kinds of people—the rebellious and the immature. Many times their lives look the same—they are both involved in sin—but the attitude of their heart is very different. And God always looks at the heart. Even when you’re totally disgusted with yourself, God never counts you as a failure until you just flat give up and quit. The Bible says that the righteous fall seven times, but they get up each time.3 God’s mercy is new each morning, and His forgiveness is always there for His children who repent. Don’t let the devil convince you that God is mad at you. He loves you even in your failure and immaturity. When you are overcome by sin, run to Jesus. He’s Your only hope.”

  Sarah dozed off that night praying for Sandy to receive a revelation of God’s love for her.

  CHAPTER 37

  “Nothing sets a person so much out of the devil’s reach as humility,”

  Jonathan Edwards1

  Kathy slept well last night, but Paul hadn’t slept at all. He’d been in his office, his emotions fluctuating between crying, sadness, rage, and blame. Saldu’s efforts to encourage Paul to respond like Jesus were immediately dismissed. “When He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but committed Himself to Him who judges righteously.”2

  The fetid spirits were gaining ground. With each belief that Paul invested in their deceitful words, Saldu was hindered more. “Paul, trust God; don’t blame man.”

  When the sun came up, it was not a happy day at the Reynolds’ house. After trying for several hours to do everything she could to placate and encourage Paul, Kathy finally decided just to get out of his way. She put Jordan in the stroller and left for the park.

  Valoe’s help, combined with Kathy’s willing spirit, enabled her to retain her peace and belief in God’s plan for their lives.

  “Paul’s not in a good place spiritually,” said Valoe. “He’s not capable of seeing anyone else’s needs but his own. If you expect anything from him, you’ll be repeatedly disappointed. But even if things were going great for him, only one man can truly meet your deepest needs, Kathy, and His name is Jesus. You need to be turning to Him more and more for love, comfort, encouragement, and direction. He is truly your knight in shining armor; you are His beloved bride, and He can walk you through any trial or crisis. His mercy endures forever,3 and He longs to keep you in peace during this tumultuous time.”4

  “Yes, Lord,” prayed Kathy, “I know You are the only one who can fill my needs. Fill me from the inside; help me not to look to Paul or anything external for my satisfaction. I know that You are the only one who truly satisfies.” A deep feeling of peace settled over her. Kathy prayed Psalm 34:18 for Paul, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted….”

  After playing hard at the park for several hours, Jordan tugged on Kathy’s blouse and said, “Mommy, I hungry. Go to McRonalds?”

  “I hungry too. OK, let’s go.”

  Kathy and Jordan sat at a table next to a husband, wife, and two children. The children finished eating and left to play in the ball pit. “Mommy, I play there,” said Jordan pointing.

  As Jordan scampered off, Kathy rolled her eyes and commented to the couple, “Look at that, a few minutes ago he was totally exhausted. They must really pump those cows full of steroids,” she said laughing.

  “I’m Richard Walker and this is my wife Susie.”

  “My name is Kathy Reynolds.”

  “Are you by any chance the wife of the pastor at the Victory church?”

  Kathy’s heart sank. How do I tactfully answer this? “No, I mean yes. I am his wife, but he’s not the pastor there anymore, as of last night.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” said Susie.

  “Actually, I’m not sorry to hear that at all,” replied Richard. Susie glared at him like he’d lost his mind and like she wanted to give him a swift kick under the table.

  “Mrs. Reynolds, I’m director at the jail, and I offered your husband a job as chaplain awhile back, and he turned me down. I have not been able to fill this position no matter how hard I try. There’s an elderly lady named Sarah who used to visit inmates all the time, and she said that God specifically showed her that Paul was supposed to be the chaplain. Hearing from God is more your department than mine, but I just know she was really, really convinced.”

  Kathy was more than a little taken aback. She didn’t know quite what to say.

  “Have that husband of yours give me a call.” He handed her his business card. “We’re getting enough inmates now that I could probably even start him out three quarter or maybe even full time.”

  “Thanks,” said Kathy staring at the card. “Thanks so much.” And thank You, Lord.

  CHAPTER 38

  “Temper is a weapon that we hold by the blade.”

  James M. Barrie1

  “It is an old and common saying, that ‘coming events cast their shadows before them….’ When destruction walks through the land, it casts its shadow; it is in the shape of pride. When honor visits a man’s house, it casts its shadow before it; it is in the fashion of humility. ‘Before destruction the heart of man is haughty;’ pride is as surely the sign of destruction as the change of mercury in the weather-glass is the sign of rain, and far more infallibly so than that.”

  C.H. Spurgeon2

  When Kathy and Jordan arrived home, Paul was gone. He came straggling in several hours later looking like death warmed over. He hadn’t shaved or bathed that morning.

  “Honey, I’ve got the best news,” said Kathy handing him the card. “It’s a total God thing, an answer to our prayers. You haven’t even been fired from the church for 24 hours,” she winced at her poor choice of words, but continued, “and already God’s opened a door for you at the new jail.”

  Paul looked at the card, crumpled it up, and threw it on the floor. “That’s what I think of the jail.” He turned abruptly.

  “But, I, maybe you don’t understand.” She bent over and picked up the card. “The director wants to hire you. He has a job for you. He wants you to call him. Sarah even heard from the Lord—”

  “I told you before, I don’t need any career advice from Sarah.”

  The elation she had felt just minutes earlier evaporated, and her tone turned serious. “Paul, this is God’s blessing; it’s His will. You need to learn to do God’s will God’s way. You’re just fooling yourself if you think you can do God’s will your way.”

  “I don’t need any advice from you, either,” he said defiantly.

  “I thought you’d be excited. I-I don’t understand—”

  “You don’t need to. You’re not out there doing the stuff; I’m the one who has to go to work every day. I have to weigh things out. I have to get a job I feel good about. I am the sole breadwinner in this marriage.”

  Kathy clenched her teeth and exhaled through them while she held her face between her hands. She finally looked up. “Don’t you think it’s time you quit worrying about being recognized, about your precious reputation, your incredible future accomplishments?” Her volume was increasing. “You used to be concerned that the Lord’s name would be exalted; now it seems like you’re the only one you’re working to exalt. I’m sick of you feeding your ego. I’m s
ick of you playing your ‘look at me’ games, and I’m sick of your five-year plan. You’re eaten up with pride, and you don’t even know it. You need to repent and do what the Lord has called you to do,” she yelled, waving the business card toward him. “When are you going to grow up spiritually? You love having a Savior, but you resist having a Lord.”

  The truth in her words had hit their mark. Paul glared at her, but remained silent. He was incapable of acknowledging her accuracy. He turned his back to her and swore under his breath.

  She continued, her voice more calm this time, “Something bad happened when you became interim. Jesus was no longer your focus; you were the focus. Then it became ten times worse when you were voted in as pastor. You need to repent and get back to where you were. God is offering you a position as chaplain. The least you can do is pray about it.”

  “You always want me to take the humble route; I’m tired of a poverty spirit. You just don’t understand me. I’m the one who will be out there working. It’s got to be something I’ll enjoy. Bottom line is, it’s my job, and I’ll be making the decision.”

  “But we should be a team. We used to pray together, and if we were attacked by warfare, we’d fight it through together. You’d call me on the phone and explain some problem you were facing and then we’d pray. I felt like we were making an impact together. Now we’re not united at all. You’re off and running, and I’m not part of the decisions. I never even know what you’re thinking. Remember, I didn’t even know you had an offer,” she waved the business card again.