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| The Guardians |
The fourteen gathered along the long brick wall that ran down the center of the property and acted as a bulwark against the hill above. A spirit similar to themselves but for the veil of darkness around it stopped to taunt their lack of brightness, "what, no joy this fine day?" A sneer split its ugly face. "Your Father is calling. Must be time to go home and inform Him you failed to protect the handicapped children yet again." Raphael, the older, wiser of the band, pushed himself away from the wall and into the face of the unclean spirit. His voice rang with authority and a silken thread of warning. "Don't overrate your victory here today. You're a looser and always will be. You may have won this round, but these seven handicapped souls belong to our Lord." An unseemly drool dripped from its lips, its anger not quite hidden. "If it were not for my Master's orders, we would put an end to your miserable existence right now. He, however, has chosen a much more enjoyable fate for you. He invites you to stay and observe how he turns your Father's children into loyal puppets." He used his left wing as a cape to wipe the excess drool from his lips. "Now I must be off. I have some serious, but most pleasurable mocking and incitement to tend too." He turned away only to stop a short distance away with a last jeer, "enjoy the show. It will be something you really want to write home about." Raphael could feel the gazes of the others upon his back. He turned, knowing what to expect. They stared at him, no one speaking. At length, Petrel, the newest member of their group, stepped forward, his muscular body visible beneath his wings. "How could this have happened? Where did we go wrong?" When no one answered, he turned to Raphael and with the zeal of youth, demanded they send for reinforcements. "They are no match for the heavenly host. We can easily round them all up and send them to the eternal home our Father has prepared for devilish traitors such as these." With a knowing smile, Raphael rested his wing on Petrel’s shoulder. With unquestionable authority, he spoke to them all. “Let your hearts be at rest. Focus on the commission your creator has given you. We are guardians of those chosen by God, right from birth until that great day they are complete in Him." |
| Rom 8:38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, Rom 8:39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. |
