“Your hair’s growing back nicely,” my handler maintained, examining the top of my head. I nodded while I ran my fingers over the layer of furze on my crown. I’d had a section of my crown shaved for my head surgery three weeks ago. As Mika had observed, my hair had grown back over the shaved patch.
“What would you like to do now?” he asked me afterward.
I shrugged while I leaned dauntlessly against his arm: “How about catching me up to what the rest of the elders are doing? We’ve already talked about Remy. What of the elder, Uriel . . . what’s Uri been up to?”
“Well, let’s see,” he replied, “Uriel’s been in the Far East with his squadron. They’ve been taking the gospel of salvation in the Lord to the remotest tribes there. Part of their evangelism effort involves engaging in exorcism wherever there are entire tribes overrun by demons. There are villages in which the adults are habitually hurling themselves over cliffs or impaling themselves in ritual sacrifices. Because of the generational curses, resulting from the villagers’ traditional practices of animism, witchcraft and Satanism, their children are haunted by demonic visitations; abduction is germane to these visitations and the victims are rarely recovered alive. The rare ones that survive a demonic abduction continue to carry in them the residues of spiritual oppression.
“For instance, in one of these villages, a sixteen-year-old boy, a former abductee, had been reportedly mutilating other villagers’ livestock, subsisting on the carcasses for many years. He lived outside the norms of social acceptability, speaking only a modicum of words, wearing not a stitch of clothing and sleeping wherever he could find shelter and warmth. Indeed, he was seen as a wild savage to be avoided. Whenever he was able to find this youth, an old aboriginal man, himself on skid row, would feed and shelter him. One day, this old aboriginal man, who knew he didn’t have many breaths left in him, sought out Uriel to help the youth. The youth, Kay, was delivered from his afflictions after Uriel cast out the demons that had possessed him since he was ten years old. However, he had become very ill with septicaemia and various other diseases. Last I heard, Kay’s still fighting for his life in hospital. Like Kay, there are many children undergoing terrifying experiences with the demonic in some of these jungle and hill tribes.”
“Kay’s story isn’t unlike the gospel narrative of the demoniac possessed by Legion that were cast out by the Lord,” I commented.
My handler nodded. He continued: “In between deployments, Uri would be at base engaging in artillery training. Over the centuries, Uri’s observed that the Far East that had used to be the most hostile toward the gospel is now the region with the biggest harvest of souls for the Lord. He has reported a faith revival taking place in the region; however, his mission isn’t without some challenge from the demonic angel, Chemosh’s army that seeks to snatch away the gospel from those who have ears to hear it.”
 |
| "Uriel's been in the Far East." |
“Chemosh,” I interjected, “Gabriel mentioned him earlier. He’s the same principality that was stirring up trouble for the Tribulation Saints in Borneo.”
“Yes,” Mika nodded. “Since being expelled from the southern regions of Jordan, Chemosh has taken up residence in South and East Asia. His peers, Baal and Asherah, have also been divested of their respective kingdoms in Syria and Lebanon. An aside, Asherah used to go by the name Ashtoreth. They’re one and the same wicked angel in the guise of a goddess. Apparently, the Evil Ones are constantly vying with each other for territory. Even they can’t stand the sight of each other.”
“They sound like an ill-tempered faction,” I commented, licking my spoon.
“Mm,” my handler smiled.
The cup of yogurt was now empty. I dropped the plastic spoon into the cup and tossed them into the bin next to my bed. I yawned before stretching out to lie supine on the bed. I was absentmindedly using my handler’s lap to relax my head.
“It’s rare for you to have the night off, much less laissez-faire evenings, like this,” I suggested while I played idly with the toggles that ran vertically down the front of his cloak.
He smiled again: “The Jubilee’s on the way. That will be a time of rest. For now, however, we must abide by the will of God and fulfil His purpose for us.”
I nodded. I shut my eyes to enjoy my Dad’s company. All at once, my mood took a turn for the worse.
The sequence of demonic subjugation that ensued had started with a twitch. I felt it first in my left fingers. After that, both of my hands were juddering. Mika gripped my hands in his, asking with some bewilderment: “What is this?” Before I could respond, however, blood was dripping from my nostrils. The precipitation of blood staggered me; I sat upright.
“It’s happening again,” I cried, pressing my palms against my nostrils. The bloody tributaries were already making indelible incursions on my tunic and bed sheets. Then, a demonic spectre flashed before my eyes; it was for a very brief second. I glared, terrified, at Mika.
Mika sprang into action, disappearing into the bathroom only to return, just as swiftly, with a compress for my nose. While he helped to manage the bleeding, my body started shivering with frenzy. The bleeding proved more resolute than my nerves.
“Who’s doing this to you?” Mika asked indignantly.
Then, he held my head with his palms. He examined my eyes. His mind penetrated mine, wading through the confused mother lode while he tried to read my thoughts, as if he knew something out of the ordinary was going on within me.
“Who are you?” he demanded of me. His voice was loud, deep and grating, the voice he assumed when he was giving a command.
“Do not talk about them,” I scolded him just as loudly. My voice was low, my tone acerbic. Then, with the same breath, I caught myself pleading in my own voice, in a timid voice: “Don’t leave me, Dad.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Abaddon,” my Dad cautioned.
Did my surrogate Dad just call me Abaddon?
But now he was resting my head on his lap. At the same time he was wrapping my comforter around my legs. My legs had been jerking wildly before. And whereas I had been overemotional a few seconds ago, I was now deceptively phlegmatic. Mika’s brows crinkled while he placed his palm flat against my forehead.
“How dare you, Abaddon,” he rebuked. “You’re going to stop your torment of my son, Abaddon. This very instant; I’m giving you this order in the name of the Lord God, Jesus Christ. Stop your torment of this child, in the name of Christ Jesus, your God. Stop using Mishael to speak your evil thoughts. Mishael’s not your vassal. Continuing to treat him as such is lese majesty against the elders and eternal perdition will be your punishment.”
Around us, the texture of the masonry was on course for deconstruction by unnatural orbs of light. A crusty voice proceeded out of the orbs: “I said do not talk about them. Do not talk about the principalities or about the demons. You have no right.”
“Right?” Mika rejoined. “Who are you to speak of rights, Abaddon?”
“Do not call me Abaddon,” the voice vexed. “I am not Abaddon.”
A potent force broke through the door. It blew into the room a whirlwind of dust, dried leaves and other dead things. Then it picked up into its epicentre everything else in the room that hadn’t been nailed down. I gasped: “Who’s doing this? Stop it!”
Mika prepared to rebuke the wind but it was already twirling out of the door. Now horrid sentient things were slithering under my skin. I slapped at them to scatter them. I clung on to my handler’s garments while I erupted into a torrent of helpless screams: “Get them off me; get them off me. Dad.”
“There’s nothing on you, son,” he assured me, “or in you. Nothing whatsoever. It’s only the Devil’s trick.”
He drew me toward his chest while he stayed my body’s flaying with his arms. “Shh,” he whispered several times, softly rocking my body. I flooded his sleeves with my tears and drool.
Then, my eardrums were all but rupturing at the same ear-splitting tintinnabulation that had first tortured me at my apartment, when Abaddon had had me abducted from my own home. I clamped my hands over my ears: “Make him stop, make him stop. Dad.”
Mika launched into a powerful prayer, rebuking the forces of evil around us. Reinforcements showed up at his summons; Gabriel and Abishael arrived first. After them, the angels, Haziel, Shelumiel and Raphael. All of their hands were suspended above my head while they prayed over me. I had dry-retched several times during their hour-long prayer.
The elders’ soothing prayers flooded the close limits of my quarters, which conduced to lassitude. I was drifting in and out of sleep. Now and then, one of the elders would call out my name to keep me awake. Then, they initiated a salvo: it was designed to compel the Evil One to retreat; designed to be a witness and testimony for the Lord.
“Who is your God, Mishael?” the elders asked.
“Yah,” I replied tearfully. “Yah’s my God.”
“Who is your God, Mishael?” they asked again.
“The Lord, Jesus,” I wept. “The Lord, Eheyeh, is my God.”
“Who is your God, Mishael?” they asked for the third time.
“The Holy Spirit is my God,” I sobbed.
On and on, the elders fired their salvos at me. I was quickly spent.
“Did you hear this child, Abaddon?” Mika finally roared. “Was it loud and clear enough for you? Mishael has spoken: Mishael worships the Lord God, the only God of heaven and earth. This is out of the mouth of this precious child himself. His choice is clear. His choice has been made in the presence of six witnesses. Mishael can never be your vassal; do you hear me, Abaddon? For Mishael is forevermore sealed in the Holy Spirit. Now leave him at once. Leave our presence at once.”
Craving sleep at length, I killed my childish weeping. I felt my sense of consciousness fading out of the present environs.
I wasn’t certain how long my consciousness had been absent but when I finally roused, it was to the comforting voices of my elders concluding their prayers. And to the straw between my lips.
The angel, Raphael, had been imparting his advice to me: “Finish the juice, beloved. You’ve lost some blood – you want to keep your body hydrated.”
I followed the healing angel’s advice. I drank all the juice before handing the cup back to him. Then, I studied the faces above me, the faces of all my elders who had been observing me while I slumbered. Their deportment was so composed that I didn’t feel being watched beyond the pale.
“He’s going to be all right,” Raphael informed them. “But he needs his rest. We should take our leave soon.”
I sat up slightly. The spectre that had terrorized me moments ago was now a waning memory. I was relaxed and my body had stopped shaking. My nose was dry as well. Then, I realized that the walls were the standard stonework of bricks and mortar once more. The bed sheet under me was crisp with the fresh scent of lemon zest and I was wearing a clean surplice. But my feet were bare.
“I need socks,” I whispered, getting out of bed.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Haziel objected, pressing down on me. “You need to take it easy.”
Mika found me some socks and quietly put them on my feet. He said to his peers: “Thank you for your prayers, brothers. Abaddon’s been banished for now, but I’ve no doubt that he’s going to visit my son again; I want him to make a return, in fact, but next time, I want him to manifest in person, not persist with the nefarious mind games that are his leitmotif. In the meantime, as Raphael has advised, my son must have his rest.”
“We’ll be more than ready to meet Abaddon the next time,” Abishael maintained.
“Doesn’t Abaddon know how to take no for an answer?” I asked when I was finally alone with Mika again.
“Leave him to us, son,” he replied. “Surely, as the Lord has decreed, Abaddon’s days are numbered. But how are you feeling?”
My head shook: “To be honest . . . I feel like I’ve been in a dream. Like most dreams, whatever I can remember resembles disjointed pieces of mosaic. Someday you must describe it all to me so that I can chronicle the experience for my journal.”
Mika nodded: “You said, ‘it’s happening again’, when your nose first began to bleed. Have you had nose bleeds before tonight?”
I thought for a while: “Yes, a mild one a few days ago. Nothing like tonight though.”
My elder nodded again. “Will you give me your word to inform me of any health issues you may have from here on? It’s crucial.”
I gave the elder my word, adding: “How long had I been dozing for?”
“About three hours,” he replied. “Would you like to go back to sleep or resume our conversation?”
“Resume, please,” I answered, curling up once more against his bosom. “I’m too alert to sleep now.”
He nodded: “But if you feel like dozing, go ahead.”
“I will,” I replied.
“Well, as I was about to inform you before the interruption,” he began, “Uriel’s recently making the rounds of the Far Eastern empires of China, Korea and Japan. An interesting development in the Orient, reported by the elder, is the amalgamation of their armies to consolidate the Eastern rulers’ individual sovereignty and military supremacy in the region. The amalgamation of their armies could expedite the fielding of the millions-strong infantry that has been prophesied to cross the Euphrates toward Megiddo to meet Antichrist in the coming war, popularly called The Battle of Armageddon. Of course, as you’re likely aware, the Euphrates river has been gradually drying up for the past two decades: this should expedite the entry of the eastern armies into Har Megiddo.”
“Yes,” I stated, “very well aware: and all this foreshadows the fulfilment of Saint John the Revelator’s prophecy. Of course, that’s simply a reminder that the Lord Jesus’ Glorious Appearing isn’t far off.”
“Indeed,” Mika smiled, “and how do you feel about that, son: about the Lord Jesus’ Glorious Appearing?”
I smiled: “I think about it a fair bit. I long to be home with the Lord, my God.”
My handler smiled down at me: “That’s very good to know. Very good.”
“I hope to see Uri soon,” I stated next. “I’ve been missing him terribly.”
“Uri asks after you constantly,” he informed me. “This elder’s love for you is as unmatched as they come.”
“And Gabriel was recently in Borneo as he said?” I queried.
“Yes, Gabriel’s the Lord’s ubiquitous messenger, a stalwart,” he replied. “We can always rely on him to complete every mission owing to his speed and strength. He’s globetrotting the world delivering messages from the Lord concerning His imminent Second Advent. However, Gabriel’s priority is Jerusalem. He and the angel, Haziel, are keeping watch over the two prophets of God who are witnessing to the Jewish nation. More and more are coming to faith in the Lord every day, according to Haziel. Increasingly the Lord’s chosen are coming to recognize that Yeshua is their Messiah who was in the world; He was the One that died for their sins in order that those who believed would be put right with Yah.”
“It sounds as if there’s a faith revival in Israel,” I asserted. “I don’t mean to be blithe, but it appears that nothing beats a cataclysmic event, such as the Lord’s judgment on secular Israel, to bring His chosen people to a realization that Yah is just and holy, and will not let sin go unpunished, however long it takes.”
“That’s correct, Mish,” he commented. “I couldn’t have said it better. As recorded in the Holy Scriptures, Israel went through cycles of belief, followed by apathy and open rebellion, only to be brought back to repentance when God sent a calamity to snap them out of it. This exemplifies the mercurial nature of humanity as a whole. As for the rest, instead of repenting, multitudes of people on earth are now blaspheming the name of God because of His terrible plague judgments. These are the ones who have accepted the Mark of the Antichrist.”
“Now, what of Raphael?” I asked. “What else has the healing angel been up to?”
“As much as possible, Raphael must operate from Headquarters,” he answered. “There’s always a brother who would need his special healing ability; someone inevitably always returns from a mission with some form of injury. We’re grateful to the Lord for Raphael’s special power. Because of the Lord, we’ve not had a fatal incident involving one of the Halflings.”
I nodded. Then, I made eye contact with him. “Raphael’s never had his skills stretched,” I suggested rather in a slapdash fashion.
His eyebrows rose.
I explained: “I mean to say, Raphael’s never had to raise a brother to life.”
“No, oh dear, no,” he whispered. “And I plan to keep it that way. In any case, the power over life and death belongs to Yah alone. Hence, even if Raphael could raise back to life someone from the dead, this power per se had been bestowed on him by the Lord.”
“Mm,” I agreed. “Whom have we missed out? Abishael; that’s right.”
“Well,” Mika replied, matter-of-factly, “Abishael saved your life this morning, of course.”
Still sensitive about the matter of my failed suicide attempt, I felt my spirit wilt. I couldn’t help myself. I wondered if I could ever live it down. Worse, I wondered if anyone else would ever let me live it down. I left Mika’s bosom and sank my head on my folded arms. I was no longer in the mood for conversation.
“Since you have repented, you’re under no condemnation for that action,” Mika commiserated judiciously. His tone was reassuring. “You have no cause to feel ashamed. However, there’s still the matter of establishing the reason for the attempt you made on your life, which was what I was endeavouring to get to. But not tonight. We’ll leave this discussion for another time.”
My handler rose. He studied my apparel, my long white double-weave linen surplice with the button-down front. His face registering approval, he gripped my wrist. “You need a diversion,” he smiled. “Come with me.”
Huh?
“Get up,” he went on to explain, “we’re going on a midnight spree.”
I obeyed but first said: “I’d put on something warmer but all I have is that robe. Gabriel’s confiscated the bulk of my clothes.”
Mika smiled: “It’s Indian summer outside. What you have on is fine.”
I studied my droopy socks. At least I had socks. “I should put on my sandals,” I suggested, wiggling my toes.
My handler’s head shook: “You’re fine.”
“If you say so,” I stated. “But let me have a moment, please.”
I was in the bathroom for a few minutes. When I met Mika outside, he had already increased his mass and stature: he was all of thirty-five feet tall. His flaxen hair had oddly grown wavier, cascading past his shoulders. Michael scooped me up with his gargantuan hands, saying telepathically: We’re taking an interstellar trip.
A unique power was being invoked. I felt the energy pulse of a dome encasing me. I would best liken it to an invisible force field, designed to preserve my well-being when I encountered the privation of life that typified space, making it inhospitable to mortals.
For a while we were geostationary above the ground; Mika was making sure I was secure in his palm. Then, he was swiftly soaring toward the clouds. I watched the landscape below me, observing the details of the flat roofs of buildings, the gaping mouth of the enormous gorge and, adjacent to it, the untrammelled evenness of the wooded plateau, until I could barely make them out, their microscopic boundaries becoming indefinable. Before long, we were quite a considerable distance away from earth. I was in a strange environment but I knew it was outer space. And outer space was dark, very, very dark.
As I squinted and adjusted my vision, light flooded into my eyes. I found myself absorbing the extraordinary textures and colours before me. It quickly dawned on me that Mika had transported us to the orbit of Jupiter. I knew this from my studies in cosmology with the angel, Shimael.
We’re in Jupiter’s orbit, my handler informed me, speaking into my mind.
I nodded.
A lone asteroid was careering along our path. In an astonishing move, Mika hopped onto the asteroid. Soon, he was straddling it, riding on it like a magical carpet. Equally astonishing was the fact that my elder’s size equalled that of the asteroid.
Isn’t this dangerous? I asked him.
Only for mortals but not for us, he replied. He put me down on his lap.
I informed him: Shimael taught that some asteroids were supernaturally created the way we would find them. Others were the remnants of the disintegration of a planet due to interior heating and volcanism caused by radioactive and other decaying processes. This interior heating in a planet might have triggered some of the processes in Noah’s flood. This lends credence to the historicity of the Genesis narrative.
In front of us was a cluster of rocks. They were hurtling swiftly toward one of Jupiter’s large moons. One of the rocks collided with its atmosphere and abruptly disappeared from view.
Mika explained: It’s virtually a rare sight to find asteroids in a cluster.
I nodded while I stood up on his lap. Not long after, he asked if I would like to ride along on his shoulder. I told him I would. Something whizzed past us while I was balancing on his spacious shoulders.
See that comet, he prompted me. Ten o’clock.
We were in the orbit of Neptune. I cranked my neck and commented: That rather resembles a dirty snowball.
My elder responded: Well, Mish, I’ll have you know that that dirty snowball is an object of great interest and fascination, for many a die-hard student of astronomy can only ever dream of seeing a live comet such as this.
Nevertheless, it’s a dirty snowball but a beautiful dirty snowball, I opined. In another class, Shimael taught us that the ancients in Sumeria used to believe if a comet was observable from earth, a calamity was nigh.
The pagan ancients studied the stars for signs because they thought there was a symbiosis between an occurrence in the sky and an event on earth. Though they were well off-base to put their trust in these created and inanimate objects in order to determine the future, they weren’t always wrong. You’ve heard it said, Mish, a broken clock is correct twice a day but the wise wouldn’t rely on it to tell time.
I wondered at the rings of Neptune and said to Mika: It appears scientists have uncovered that some parts of the outer rings of Neptune have deteriorated, disappearing, apparently. They believe that the Liberté arc in the outermost ‘Adams’ ring may someday completely disappear.
My surrogate father nodded: The Lord Jesus will renew all of creation before this occurs.
Mika had slid out of the asteroid. I sighed, relieved that I hadn’t fallen off it. Many parsecs later, he pointed his finger at a colourful configuration ahead of us.
That’s a nebula. I think you know that, he suggested.
Yes, I replied. According to Shimael humans were taught that, with enough time, clusters of nebulae might turn into a galaxy. Some of the galaxies in space today used to be nebulae regions.
Mika responded: Well, Mish, the naturalist’s paradigm posited that a nebula was formed when ionized gases collapsed in the interstellar medium or when a supernova occurred. And when the gases usually found in a nebula combined with enough dust and material, the mass of the nebula enlarged to form a star. This was the nebular hypothesis, a simple naturalistic explanation, but one that was fatally flawed since it assumed that evolution was the only acceptable mechanism. I believe Shimael would have taught you the flaws of the nebular hypothesis.
He did, I replied. It’s all very technical and I shan’t go into all the fine points. Suffice it to say, Shimael taught that the theoretical process in the nebular hypothesis was also one of the processes in the Big Bang scenario. He maintained that ascribing the nebular hypothesis to the origins of nebulae and the solar system required faith, since the observable and testable evidence didn’t support it. Many scientists and astronomers afterward admitted that the naturalist’s explanation had been pure speculation and bordered on science fiction.
We sidled toward the nebula. On close inspection, I thought it was shaped like a blue and purple rosette.
Mika explained further: If the scientist subjected to strict scrutiny all the available evidence, if he subjected all of this to the same strict litmus test of good scholarship, without a priori bias and presuppositions, he must honestly conclude that the planets could not and did not form naturalistically but were supernaturally created by the Lord. He had to conclude that the only tenable model to explain the origins of the solar system and the universe was the Creation model.
Yet, there were scientists that mocked the creationists, berating them as irrational for ignoring the physical evidence of a universe that they claimed came about naturalistically. Of course, this evidence was dispelled time and again. So what made those scientists dishonest, Mika? They invested a great deal of their time, energy and resources in marshalling the evidence, putting their reputation and career on the line, and when they were presented with the evidence, they preferred not to admit the truth that was under their noses; instead they chose to hang on to their false theories.
Well, son, everyone has an agenda. For some people, it’s moral or religious. For others, it’s political. The scientists that embraced a Darwinian model to explain origins had a financial agenda. Although they were confronted with the truth that contravened their presuppositions, for them, putting up with the inconvenience of cognitive dissonance was easier than losing funding for their research, which was their livelihood. Many scientists also succumbed to peer pressure: in the scientific fraternity, it was career suicide not to conform to a Darwinian mechanism by which the veracity of all its scholastic endeavours must be established.
But those scientists’ lack of integrity led generations of people astray and they allowed them to believe in lies.
Yes, son, they did lead many people away from holding up the Word of God as the final authority on truth and origins since they were taught that the evolutionary theory did not square with what was written in the Creation account in Genesis. Others attempted to force a compromise by way of theistic evolution, which was pure eisegesis since it contradicted Scripture, which taught that death came after the fall of humanity. In contrast, evolutionary theory, including theistic evolution, presupposes that death existed before the fall, before sin.
Because if death was around before man sinned, then death was not the result of sin as recorded in God’s Word. In that case, the Lord Jesus wouldn’t have had to die physically for mankind’s sin in order to redeem man and restore what Adam lost. Is this accurate, Mika?
Yes, Mish, that’s accurate. The proponents of both Darwinian evolution and theistic evolution had their basis in doubt. They doubted the Word of God because they didn’t want it to be true for it meant being accountable to God for their actions. For if they could throw doubt on the Genesis record, then, they would feel free to throw doubt on the rest of Scripture and God’s commandments. Darwinism essentially became a de facto religion for those that required validation for their disbelief in God.
Sometime later, I spotted another nebula. This one was shaped like the head of a horse and composed of black and dark gray clouds all over its formation. I remembered learning in Shimael’s classes that the Horse-head nebula was an example of a diffuse nebula that resembled dark clouds.
Then, Mika pointed at a spiral formation in front of us.
Can you identify that configuration? He asked to test me.
I smiled: That’s a galaxy.
Good man, he replied.
I gushed: It’s breathtaking.
We’ve only just begun to scratch the surface, Mish. The universe is extremely vast and expansive.
How far away are we from earth, Dad? I asked very much later. By this time, I had witnessed many more distant galaxies, learned the existence of several little known planets and along the way, dodged a few other asteroids adrift in space.
My Dad replied: Not trillions of light years away but far, for sure. Do you recognize that galaxy?
It’s not the Milky Way, is it?
Yes, son, it’s precisely the Milky Way.
Which means we’re heading back to earth?
Indeed.
Then, we were hovering above the little blue marble we were momentarily calling ‘home’.
Planet Earth, Mika said.
From where we are, earth seems really tiny, I told him.
That is so, in the grand scheme of the universe; and from that perspective, it’s amazing that God’s mindful of what goes on there. Though He created the wonders of the immense expanse of the heavens, which are held together by His will alone, earth is not too small and insignificant for the Lord to have a plan for its inhabitants. Yah is a loving God who’s always thinking of His people. As the psalmist wrote: ‘How precious also are Your thoughts of me, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I should count them they would be more in number than the sand.’ Yes, the Lord is always thinking about the affairs of humanity and His thoughts are for the good of humanity. Shall we go home now, son?
Yes, Dad, let’s go home. I’m starting to feel a bit sleepy now.
My handler brought us back to earth, to Petra and, arriving back at my chamber, he gently laid me down on my bed. He had also transformed back to his default angelic size.
While he was unfurling the comforter over me, I declared, “I have been witness to the awesome handiwork of Yahushua; the mighty fingerprint of the Lord is evident in the beauty of the vast universe. Surely the Lord is an aesthetic God.”
“It is written, ‘The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows His handiwork’,” Mika pronounced, gracefully sinking down on my bed edge. “Thus the man who says in his heart that there is no God has no excuse and, therefore, is a fool.”
I agreed: “In addition to evidence from creation is the anthropological evidence: in the world’s many cultures and civilizations, there appears to be a desire in their denizens to seek God, to debate about Him, to pray, to organize religion and worship, and to call on Him for help when disasters happen. All of this must attest to there being a living God who has placed this desire for Him in each person.”
Mika added: “C. S. Lewis put it succinctly when he wrote: ‘Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires can be met.’ Since man’s desire to satisfy his hunger is met by food, and his desire to satisfy his curiosity by exploring nature, so his desire to satisfy his God-sized yearning in his heart to know God will be met personally by the Creator of this universe who is the true and living God. The Lord actively answers those who seek Him with an open heart and mind. The man, who claims there is no God, is not honestly seeking Him.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said gratefully. “That was a first-rate trip. I was able to assimilate what I saw with my eyes tonight with what I had learned in Shimael’s classes.”
It was nearly five o’clock in the morning. Mika was receiving a signal from one of Abishael’s angels stationed outside my quarters.
“That was the angel, Jeiel,” he informed me. “It looks like we may have company.”
Laughter – familiar but creepy – permeated the air. We were instantaneously confronted by Abaddon. His form, this morning, was the same form with which I had first made acquaintance on the rooftop in New Canaan. The form that had held me captivated the first time, for he was stunningly albeit incongruously beautiful.
His beauty notwithstanding, the Fallen One inspired only terror in me. Standing at nearly nine feet tall, Abaddon struck as doughty and arresting a figure today as on that first day we had met. His large gray wings were drawn behind him, his wiry arms crossed over his chest and his long ashen fingers gripping his obsidian sabre. He was clad from top to toe in crinkled linen, his head of full blond locks tamed under a brown linen hood. His otherwise graphic facial features were blighted by a cynical smirk.
“Abaddon,” Michael and I said in unison.
“Cosy,” he said mock-appreciatively, his piercing green eyes steadily locked on mine.
