GREG’S FUNERAL WAS scheduled two days later. As I approached the breakfast table that morning, Mom and Dad looked up from their coffee cups.
Dad slid his legs around in his chair to face me. “Honey, I’m so sorry we can’t go with you today. We have to watch Tessa because Brian and Diane are leaving to go to celebrate their anniversary.”
I’d totally forgotten. “Tell them I said happy anniversary, would you?”
I slid out a chair and sat down opposite my mom.
Mom pushed a plate toward me. It was piled with three chocolate chip pancakes. She knew they were my favorite.
“Aw . . . thanks, Mom.”
“I wanted to do something special for you today.”
I remembered reaching out to hug her before leaving for the hospital.
In Mom’s way, she was reaching back.
“Go ahead and take one of the cars. We’ll be staying home all day,”
Dad said as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“Thanks, Dad.” The words were muffled by my mouthful of pancakes.
When the funeral home came into view my heart started pounding. I hated funerals. I especially dreaded looking into the caskets and seeing people looking like painted dolls. At least this funeral may have closed caskets due to the severe injuries of the boys. Both families decided to hold the funerals the same day at the same funeral home. Perhaps they knew their boys—great friends—would have liked it that way. I hoped so.
After finding a parking spot I sat in the car for a few minutes, staring at the steering wheel. Finally I gathered the strength to unlock my seatbelt.
A soft knock on my window made me jump. I looked up and saw Eden, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks stained with tear streaks. I got out of my car and hugged her. She let out a muffled whimper into my shoulder.
I’m going to lose it. I may as well start now.
I turned back to the car and reached to grab my packet of tissues as the tears began to flow.
We held hands and headed toward the funeral home. I felt like we were moving in slow motion, but that was OK with me. We approached the white building with white pillars surrounding the front porch.
We entered a crowded parlor full of Greg’s and Toby’s personal things.
Their letterman jackets lay across the backs of two wooden chairs. I grabbed Greg’s and held it close. It still smelled like him. I was careful to put it back exactly as it was.
I saw Greg’s stuffed dog sitting on the floor next to his letterman jacket.
Eden and I smiled as we paged through an album of baby pictures. I’d never seen any pictures of Greg as a baby or small child before we met in kindergarten. He was so cute. Christina came up to us in the short black dress she’d worn to the school’s fall dance. She hugged me and Eden like she was comforting us. Shouldn’t she be the one falling apart? They were best friends—and more as of late.
She whispered, “I saw his angel.”
My mouth dropped open. God was redeeming her prior experiences and transferring them into a biblical spiritual gift.
“That’s great!”
“The angel was smiling. I think he was trying to assure me that Greg is in heaven,” she said with confidence.
Eden and I exchanged glances. “I think you are absolutely right,” I said.
“Before Bev prayed for me, I used to see all kinds of evil spirits. Now that I’m a Christian, God is letting me see the good spirits as well as the bad ones. And the bad ones don’t scare me anymore.”
I nailed it!
It seemed strange to be at a funeral yet feel happy. Organ music began to play over some speakers in the ceiling.
I glanced at the crowd. Most were young people. The girls gathered together in clumps. The boys sat somberly, most wearing their school jackets.
At the head of the room sat two closed caskets. I was relieved.
I never knew what to say at funerals. I dreaded the receiving line.
Eden gripped my arm and led me toward that exact place. Christina grasped my other hand. Perhaps she was feeling the same as me and needed my strength, through that touch, to help get her through the next hour.
I felt a third hand on my shoulder. I glanced up. Mike. I looked over my shoulder to see him motioning with his head, prodding me to move forward. The person in front of me in line was standing in front of the caskets. My turn was next. I never knew how long to stand there. Some people stood a long time and cried in front of caskets. I preferred to speed by them and get that part over with as soon as possible. Thank goodness these caskets weren’t open. The family had opted to place a framed photo of both boys on each.
When I neared Greg’s coffin I saw an angel standing behind it, his hand resting on the spot where I assumed Greg’s head would be inside. He was seven feet tall and had long, flaxen hair. I could not see his eyes; they were cast down at the coffin. He wore a plain white robe with a golden rope tied at the waist.
“That’s my fellow guardian, Churiel,” Mike said.
Greg’s angel looked up at me. His eyes were a burgundy color that matched streaks of the same color that framed his face. Churiel’s smile left no doubt in my mind that Greg was in heaven, ready to party with his angel and his Savior forever.
I hesitated to move on to Toby’s casket because I knew his angel would not be at peace. As I moved closer, I saw Toby’s angel. His wings were limp, and his head was bowed. He looked down at the casket, his face contorted in grief, and large tears that looked like liquid crystal ran down his face. I felt the angel’s anguish as he lamented his lost charge.
“That’s Phillip,” Mike whispered. “He’s been a faithful guardian to Toby.” Then I heard a soft intake of air. Was that Mike stifling a sob? Was he grieving the fact that Toby died without being a Christian?
The angel traced a finger across the cover of Toby’s casket with the tenderness of a father putting his young son to bed at night. I could only imagine the depth of his despair, losing a boy he had spent every moment with for the past seventeen years. And now his job assignment would change.
Mike’s hand tightened on my shoulder, coaxing me to move forward in the line.
When I approached the families in the receiving line, Eden moved past me and took the lead. As a pastor’s daughter she had attended many funerals and knew exactly what to say. Christina and I huddled around her and let her take the lead.
Eden directed her words to both sets of parents. “I’m sorry for your loss. We loved Greg so much. We’ll continue to pray for you. God will comfort you. We love you.” She hugged each of the parents. All of them hugged her back. Greg’s mom held on to Eden longer than the other parents, and her shoulders began to shake as she wept. The other parents watched and cast their eyes downward, no doubt feeling fresh tears well up.
I hugged each of them, and so did Christina.
I couldn’t wait to sit down. I felt faint and uncomfortable. I felt Mike’s hand on my shoulder again as if guiding me to the three empty chairs near the back of the room. We all sat down, joining the others who had already been through the receiving line. I now felt both of Mike’s hands on my shoulders. I knew he was behind me without even looking.
As Eden’s father began the service, demons in tattered black cloaks swept in. They twisted and twirled among the individuals seated and standing in the room. The hair on my arms prickled as goose bumps formed on them.
“Get out!” Mike commanded. His hands left my shoulders, but his voice was still behind me.
They responded with what sounded like many voices in unison. They wheezed, “We are here to distract and confuse.”
Since there were more than a hundred people in the room I estimated there were that many angels too. Mike whispered in my ear, “Look around you.” My spiritual eyes opened and scores of angelic figures were crammed into the room. Twice as many demons weaved among the crowd.
I heard Mike draw his sword from its sheath. “Olivia,” he whispered, “help us! Pray!”
Without taking my eyes off Eden’s dad, I prayed. God, we need backup angels, lots of them, if You can spare them. I didn’t know why I prayed that, but I figured the idea of asking God to summon more angels couldn’t hurt. And only moments after that thought floated through my head, to my astonishment dozens of glowing orbs floated into the room. They appeared out of nowhere and fluttered like snowflakes as they fell to the ground. Each morphed into a tall, muscular figure wearing armor different than I’d ever seen before. They seemed to be covered in gray wet suits like I’d seen surfers wear. But my guess was that they were impenetrable.
Mike let out a loud war cry that ripped through the room. A blue light beamed through the ceiling. It dissipated as it split into bits of tiny lightning strips, each one wrapping itself around every dark figure in the room. The power of it hurled them through the air, making them disappear instantly.
I wondered if this was the sheer power of God coming to zap them to death.
Eden bumped my arm. “What are you looking at?” I realized my mouth was hanging wide open.
“A battle,” I muttered.
Her eyes closed. My sister warrior began moving her lips silently in prayer.
Phillip, Toby’s angel, raised a glowing sword in the air and sliced at a small, toad-like demon to his right, then at a spider-looking one to his left. Green blood spewed from the demons, and they screeched as they evaporated and vanished.
A large demon in a black cloak and with the face of a skeleton approached Churiel. “Well, well, look what we have here.” He pointed a bony finger at the angel. “Clearly you aren’t needed anymore.” Green smoke wafted from his hollowed-out mouth.
“Ignore him, Churiel,” said Mike.
“No way.” Churiel balled his fingers into a fist.
“Poor Toby,” the demon whined. “Damned forever.”
“Shut up, you filth!” Churiel struck the demon in the jaw with such force that the demon fell through the wall on the far side of the room and landed on the rough gravel outside.
The guardian angels all wrapped their wings around their wards to protect them from the onslaught of any more demonic attacks. The backup angels stood side by side, lining the whole length of the four walls around us, holding tall spears, their gazes directed heavenward, forming a spiritual fortress. Eden’s eyes remained closed, her mouth still moving in silent prayer.
I was glad she hadn’t stopped. Perhaps there would be another wave of devils. I kept repeating the word Jesus over and over in my mind. Glancing at my lap, I noticed my knuckles turned white from grasping my hands together so tightly in prayer.
With the battle now at bay, I could hear the pastor’s words again. “Is there anyone here who would like to accept Christ and walk with Him for eternity?”
Toby’s parents and his two brothers raised their hands. Countless more hands went up. My nerves subsided.
Thank You, God. Thank You that my friend’s death has turned other people to eternal life.
I turned to Eden, and she smiled at me. No doubt she was having similar thoughts.
Mike kissed the top of my head the way my dad used to do when he tucked me into bed as a child. I placed my hand on my shoulder over where I felt his hand resting. I couldn’t feel him, but I knew he was there. The tension in my shoulders eased.
God, thanks for my protective big brother. What a gift You’ve given me.
“Those of you who raised your hands, please turn to the prayer on the back of the bulletin you received when you entered. You can read that prayer now or after you leave. Or come see me after the service. Whatever you do, make the right choice today. Don’t wait. Any of us could end up in a car accident tomorrow, just like these two boys.”
Yes. God, let each one in this room consider the reality of death and think about choosing to live for God. Help them to stop any destructive behavior they have in their lives. May they walk out of here changed forever.
“Let’s all bow our heads and close our eyes.”
I closed my eyes and prayed Pastor’s prayer, standing in agreement with him.
“Our Father, we ask Your comfort for those here who are grieving. We pray for their close family and friends. Send Your Comforter, the Holy Spirit, to ease their pain. Don’t allow one person to leave this building today without knowing for sure where they’d spend eternity if they were to die tomorrow. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”
The organ music played again, and people stood and filed out of the room. I couldn’t wait to get a breath of the fresh air outdoors. It was so stifling in the room from being packed with so many bodies.
As I walked outside I sensed Mike and Churiel following close behind as I heard swords being slipped back in their sheaths.
A sinister phantom draped in black rose from the gravel sidewalk six feet in front of me.
I gasped. Just when I’d hoped the battle was over.
His face resembled a wolf. He drew back his lips, exposing yellow teeth. Drool ran from the corner of his mouth. “So, you can see both angels and demons?” he growled. “My, what a unique gift you have.” The way he said the word gift made it clear it was not a compliment.
I seethed. His taunting made me furious that he’d make fun of a gift given to me by the God of the universe to fight this exact type of evil.
The demon moved so close to my face his dog-shaped snout touched my nose. I drew back and wiped the moisture from my nose. Disgusting.
Where’s Mike? Can’t he see this dog-faced monster is about to bite my head off?
When I turned around to look for Mike, he morphed into his twelve-foot version of himself and flashed by me, pointing his sword at the hellhound. He pinned the devil to the ground, the tip of his blade touching the center of his chest, where I supposed the creature’s heart would be, if it had such a thing.
I glared at the beast. In the name of Jesus Christ, be gone!
The demon let out a puff of putrid air and glared at me with yellow eyes. “Before your mighty friend kills me, I want you to know something." He let out a sinister laugh. “I was the one who escorted that boy Toby to hell!”
With Mike beside me I wasn’t intimidated at all. I leaned over his gruesome face, dying to spit in it. “Yeah, well, you’re on your way there yourself, buddy.”
“Do you know what hell is like?” he choked out because of the pressure Mike was applying to his chest area.
Mike pressed the sword farther into the demon’s scaly skin, causing a low moan to escape his lips. But he didn’t finish him off yet. I knew he could, so why didn’t he? Was there something he wanted me to hear first?
“Hell is a place where the loving influence of God is never felt,” was all I could manage to say.
I felt a wing envelop my body. Mike’s touch gave me the courage to hear what I knew I would not like.
Most of the funeral crowd was heading to their cars. Eden and Christina were far ahead of me. I’d been detained by this creature and couldn’t wait to get away from him.
“Hell is not about physical pain, because there is no body to harm.
Torment of the spirit and the soul are significantly worse. There’s no light to indicate the passage of time.”
This was a new concept to me. Or was it a lie?
I could think of many sleepless nights when God’s presence with me was my only hope.
As if reading my mind, he snapped, “Yes, when you’ve had nights like that, you were comforted. There is no comfort in hell!”
I glanced up at Mike. He gave me a reassuring nod.
“Right now, Toby can’t feel anything but darkness. His mind and soul are slowly unraveling under the full weight of nothing. There’s no one to comfort him. In fact, to him, it feels like he’s the only one in hell.”
I’d never thought of hell as anything more than the fire and brimstone I’d heard about so many times. I knew about being separated from God, but had never thought about the darkness. The absence of everything good.
The demon let out a wicked laugh. “Oh, sometimes there’s a flash of light . . . a ray of hope, a speck of feeling. Then the lights go out again.
Pretty soon you begin to hate the light.”
I turned away, closing my eyes. I couldn’t imagine the torture that would be.
“You could have prevented his fate, you know.”
Accusation. That was what this spirit was all about.
But was it all my fault?
He’d gotten to me.
“Go to hell, spirit of accusation!” Mike plunged his sword so deeply into the demon that he split in half. The force shoved his body into the gravel below him.
The words of the monstrous figure echoed in my ears and covered me with chills. They held some truth, and I knew it.
The weight of this responsibility for those who die without Jesus made the whole world seem to darken. My hands shook, and I was covered in sweat. Everything went black. My knees crumbled, and I fell to the gravel.
When I awoke Christina and Eden were leaning over me, concerned looks on their faces.
“You saw something happening in the spiritual realm, didn’t you?”
asked Eden.
I nodded, lifting myself up on my right elbow. “How did you know?”
“I saw your eyes darting about inside during the funeral.”
“I noticed that too,” added Christina.
They assisted me to my car, then waited until I assured them I was OK to drive home.
Mike slipped into the passenger-side seat. He was human-sized now but still had his armor on.
He covered my right hand, which was on the steering wheel. I stopped shaking. “Do you realize you stared evil in the face and stood your ground?”
“Pfft—yeah, and then fainted. I’m pathetic.”
“Each time you’ll become braver. Trust me.”
The words each time made me tremble again. “You mean I’ll always have to fight like this?” My voice quivered.
“If you live in this world you will always be fighting the evil one.” Mike took my one hand from the steering wheel and clasped it in both of his hands as he turned to me. “I know that you must not think this is a gift right now. But it is the gift God has chosen to give you. And you must use it. For yourself and for others. You’re going to need it.”
I swallowed hard, wondering when the next battle would come. Mike said I’d need it. Oh, no . . .
When I opened my eyes, I saw nothing but blackness all around me. I stood and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I heard water dripping. I knew my bathroom didn’t have a leaky faucet, so I must be somewhere else—but where? I stretched out my arm and my hand touched a cold, slippery surface. It felt like a cave I’d once been in when I was twelve.
When I could finally see in front of me I realized the water was coming from the ceiling and into a pool of water somewhere not far from me. I recalled this sound from the cave we’d visited that vacation long ago: each drip of water echoing as it splashed into the water below it.
I took shuffling steps, wary of slipping on the damp floor. The cold water splashed onto my bare feet, making me shiver. I breathed in a musty, earthy smell, much like the caverns I had been in.
A red glow came into view. Its source seemed to be around a bend just ahead. A child’s laugh echoed deep inside the cave. I hurried toward the voice and the red glow.
A scream exploded in my eardrums. Icy fear shot through my bones. It sounded as if someone was being killed. I had to do something. But what would I find? Would I be harmed too? My curiosity helped me gather the courage to yell, “I’m coming to help!”
I picked up my pace as best I could without risking a slip. If I fell and broke a bone I’d be useless to assist anyone. And then I wouldn’t be able to run away if some guy with a knife or something came after me next.
I rounded the next corner and saw Toby standing in front of the red glow.
I’m dreaming. Oh, thank God.
His hair was matted with blood, his clothing tattered and torn. “You can’t help me.” His voice shook.
I took a step closer. Toby’s eyes seemed to gaze right through me.
Torn flesh hung from Toby’s forearm. Bruises, gashes, and open wounds covered his body. His teeth poked through a mangled mass of flesh on his face. I grimaced with revulsion and stepped back, clutching my arms around my body. I began to hold one hand out. “Toby—”
“No!” His body convulsed.
I backed up and shrank against the wall of the cave. Could I blink my eyes enough times to wake myself up? I tried, but nothing changed.
His eyes widened in fear as he turned and looked at the opening of the cave behind him. When he turned back to face me, he whimpered, “They’re here!” He repeated those words over and over, his voice becoming fainter each time he said that phrase.
A cloaked figure floated in, its long black cloak about five inches off the ground. It held a sickle in one hand. I hoped it didn’t notice me. He turned to face Toby, backing him against the cave wall. Toby screamed.
A stream of green light shot out of the demon’s finger. Lashes of rope instantly appeared, forming restraints around Toby’s arms and legs. Toby wrestled against them and kept saying, “No, please don’t take me,” as the dark form pulled him into the shadows of the cave behind him. The red light faded. Toby’s screams did too.
My knees buckled, and I crumbled into a pile on the floor with relief.
I awoke in bed, my heart palpitating. My sheets were soaked in sweat, my chest heaving. What a horrible dream. I’m not surprised after my experience at the funeral. My subconscious must have still been thinking about Toby dying without knowing Jesus.
I saw Mike sitting at the foot of my bed, Indian style, his chin resting in the palm of one of his hands.
I sat up. “What’s happening to me?”
“Your gift is gaining power. And God often uses your dreams to speak to you. You’re being prepared for the coming battle.”
I hoped I didn’t have to battle anything like that creature in the cave I’d just dreamed about.
“Pray for God to rule over your dreams before you fall asleep.”
“I can do that.”
“You know that Toby’s condemnation wasn’t your fault, right?”
“Yes. But I still wish I could go back in time and talk to him about Jesus.”
“I hope this gives you a deep passion to share your faith with as many people as God leads your way—before it’s too late for them.”
I know where Toby is—but what about Phillip? “Where is Toby’s angel now?”
“He’s been reassigned.”
I wondered where. To another person? To another position in heaven?
“Did he fail?”
“No. Toby’s salvation was his own choice. But Phillip will grieve for a long time. He loved Toby the way I love you. He’ll mourn like a big brother who’s lost his little brother.”
As Mike will weep for me, his little sister, when I die. I shook off the terrible mental picture that came to mind.
“Will he ever see Toby again?” I guessed the answer but still asked.
“No. Nor will Toby ever see God.” He shuddered. “Total and eternal separation from God is one the most harrowing notions imaginable.”
Now that God’s presence was so strong in my life, I couldn’t imagine not sensing it. Without the Holy Spirit and His “still, small voice” in my mind, my life would be barren. As scary as this whole learning experience has been, I still would not change it for the world. I’ll never see things the same again. And I’ll be able to fight the enemy. And help others fight him.
I lay back down and sank into my pillow. Mike sat beside me and took my hand.
“Don’t you get bored just hanging around and watching me?”
He grinned. “Does a dog get bored sitting at its master’s feet and following him from room to room?”
I’d watched Bev’s Lab follow her everywhere she went. When Bev sat, she sat at her feet. She adored her. Of course, Mike wasn’t my pet. But his illustration made sense.
“God asked me to watch over you. I don’t resent it, and I never get bored.”
His face glowed as he tucked the blankets under my chin. “Now, get some rest. You’ll need it for the battles that await you.” Then he was gone.
God, make me stronger so I can live up to the gift You’ve given me. Help me not despise it but instead treasure it because it comes from You. Help me to not have any more bad dreams tonight. And most of all, I want to say I love You.
“I love you too.”
God was talking back. I loved this. I’m not sure how I knew, nor do I think I could articulate it to another, unless they’d experience it themselves.
Why me?
“Because I chose you.”
Will I get braver?
“With Me, nothing is impossible.”
That sounded like a verse that was hanging in our church hallway in the classroom wing. So that could have been God speaking, or Him bringing that verse to my mind. Either way, He had given me an answer. I’m scared.
“I’ll equip you.”
I’ll need it. Amen.