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The Old Serpent and the Slacker

By Marsha West

"Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine upon you." 

--Ephesians 5:14


The spray of water wet Brady's body as he glided effortlessly behind a powerboat moving at light speed, barefoot skiing. 


"Carry an umbrella folks," said the voice on the radio, "It's gonna be another wet-one..." 

Brady let out a moan and hit the snooze button hoping to get back to his dream.


A woman's voice broke into Brady's sleepy mind. He said through a yawn, "Gotta get up. . .read my Bible."  He pushed aside the toasty down comforter, threw his legs over the side of the bed and shoved his feet into his slippers.  The chill in the cool morning air invoked a shiver.  "Man, it's freezing in here" he complained.  Off went his slippers.  A moment later he was under the comforter thinking to himself, "Five more minutes…then I'll get up. . .read a few verses. . .pray a little. . ." 


Brady's eyes came open.  He rolled onto his side and squinted at the clock.  Once again he had blown it.  He sat up and yawned.  "Rats," he said and slid out of bed.  He was going to crash early last night, get up at 6 AM, read his Bible and pray.  But he'd gotten that text message from Erica.  It was after midnight when she finally texed "nite." 

He rubbed his sleepy eyes and yawned again.  Only six hours of sleep.  No wonder he felt tired.  The best he could do now was to pray for a few minutes before he left the house. He'd read the Bible as soon as he got home from the gym.  Then it struck him that the Cowboys were playing the Vikings tonight.  His buddies were coming over to watch the game!  That meant another late night.  "OK…so tomorrow I'll get up early and spend quiet time with God - no matter what!" 

The wily demon hovering in the corner of the room was growling deep in his throat, a pleasure growl only demons can do.  Bromos' mission was accomplished so he was through for the day.  It was going so well with Brady McCoy that he may not have to return for a while.  He had Brady firmly in his grip.

Swooooooooosh...the evil spirit was instantly airborne, zipping through the cosmos to the home of his next victim.  The woman was a Bible thumper, so Bromos knew he had his work cut out for him.  Just thinking about that Book made the scales on his neck stand up.  But he'd be toast if he disobeyed his master's order to do whatever was necessary to get her mind off Him and onto herself.  Maybe he'd try using the My Space tactic on this one. 


Brady was buttoning his shirt when someone texted him.  Erica?  He was disappointed when he saw it was Dan. 


During rain storms he and Dan rode together to work because the freeway was usually a parking lot so they could drive in the carpool lane. 

k..30 min 

He'd better hurry.

As he filled a thermos with steaming coffee the Bible on the kitchen table caught his eye.   He stared at it for a moment, feeling a tinge of regret.  "Tomorrow…for sure," he thought with resolve. 

The grandfather clock struck half past seven.  He grabbed his lunch and headed for the door. "God knows my intentions are good," he thought as he slipped behind the wheel of his Mustang convertible.  "And besides, it's not my fault it's raining like cats and dogs and Dan wants me to pick him up."

As soon as Brady backed out of the garage he realized how fierce the storm was. The ominous sound of thunder cracked and rolled on by.  Large drops of rain sounded like gravel pelting the hood of his car.  He mused,"No wonder Dan didn't want to drive his prized Porsche."  The weather forecaster was wrong about one thing.  Trying to use an umbrella in a storm of this magnitude would be worse than keeping a hat on in a hurricane.   

A few days later Poneros showed up to check up on the novice Bromos he had assigned to Brady McCoy.  Demonical-induced apathy took little effort with a pushover like Brady.  He had instructed Bromos to, "Get him texting…"

The forces of evil had adopted the "texting tactic" to distract the younger generation.  Worked like a charm.  For some just keeping them glued to the TV set or on their cell phones and computers worked equally as well.  Even though all the amazing technology had come from Him, Satan had found a way to pervert it.  He had a way of perverting everything good. 
Brady's desire to read the Bible was sincere.  But when he set aside time to study, invariably his mind would wander.  So half the words didn't sink into his mind. Since he never turned off his cell phone, he'd answer a call or respond to a text…especially when it was from Erica.  He'd also gotten in the habit of praying before he went to sleep at night.  He was usually exhausted so he'd fall asleep in mid sentence. 

* * *

Except for the snow, Brady loved living in Colorado Springs.  He had accepted a job offer and moved there a couple of weeks after he graduated from college.   For a year he attended church only sporadically then a friend invited him to Shepherd's Church.  He liked everything about Shepherd's, especially the pastor's preaching.  Right off the bat he joined a Bible study, the praise band, and ushered on occasion. 

Pastor Tom Horton's teaching was expository, or systematic exposition.  Going through each book of the Bible verse by verse had given Brady a much clearer understanding of God's Word.  When he was growing up he had gone to church with his parents but hadn't learned much about the Bible.  He remembered Pastor Olson's sermons as positive and uplifting.  His focus was mainly on people's "felt needs."  His primary concern was getting the crowd to feel good about themselves so that they could live the best life possible.  It was all about Christians being happy, healthy and prosperous.  After hearing Pastor Tom preach the Word of God, Brady now understood that there was much more to Christianity than what he had learned growing up.

For the first time in his life Brady came to understand the essential doctrines of the faith.  Tom taught them to aspire to "love God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind."  Love was the key.  Even the Lord Jesus had commanded His followers to love their neighbor more than they loved themselves.  "Deny yourself," said Christ, "pick up your cross and follow me." Spiritual growth came through Bible study, prayer and fellowship. 

Pastor Tom pulled no punches when he talked about the devil.  He taught that followers of Jesus Christ are at war with "the world the flesh and the devil." He made it clear that from the beginning of time God had allowed Satan and his demons access to the human mind. They were also permitted to possess certain unbelievers. 

Brady had enormous respect for Pastor Tom.  However, good and evil angels engaged in a continuous battle seemed preposterous. 

He wasn't alone.  Others in his church hadn't taken spiritual warfare seriously either.  And because they failed to "put on the full armor of God" they were open to demonic deception, distractions and diversions.

For a training exercise greenhorn tempters were assigned to apathetic Christians, the ones that failed to keep their armor on.  Unarmed believers were an easy target for greenhorns.  Pushovers is what they were. Even so, the demons would dance a jig over every Christian that was led astray. 

Veteran tempters were fearless.  They were also merciless… cruel…vicious…relentless…always craving a knock down drag out fight!  Vets were old hands at messing with men's minds -- both believers and unbelievers.  Once in a while they would even score a point or two with mature believers.  Their main mission was to get a poison dart into the minds of men and women that truly put their trust in Him.  Scores of His followers stood firm.  But crafty demons managed to wiggle their way into the minds and hearts of a few. When they fell, they fell hard.

* * *

Early one morning Poneros returned to Cherry Lane to check on Bromos.  But the greenhorn was nowhere to be found.  "Where is that pile of sludge?" snarled the demon.  Bromos would pay dearly for disobeying orders.  But first things first.  McCoy's alarm was set to go off soon.  Poneros got busy blowing air into the room cold enough to freeze an Arctic Eskimo.  He was so into what he was doing that it slipped his notice when the angel Chara appeared and covered Brady's entire body with one of his wings.  He cleared his throat, "Ah-hem."

Poneros stopped blowing. "Bromos?" His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw Chara.  "What the blazes…?"  He quickly pulled himself together. "Mine!" he barked.

The warrior of God gave Brady a nudge, "Wake up!" 

Dead to the world. 

A second nudge.

Brady's eyes fluttered open.  He squinted at the clock.  Five forty-five.  He looked around the room.  What woke him up?

The fiend's eyes narrowed on Chara and he spat a vile curse. 

The angel let it roll off. 

Poneros aimed a poison dart and let it fly.

Chara didn't flinch when the projectile pierced his wing. 

The demon wasn't giving up on Brady.  This time he inserted a flaming arrow into his bow….zing!

The angel's shield went up.  The arrow hit and burst into flame. 

Brady was oblivious to the spiritual battle going on around him.  He sat up in bed and stretched.

Chara extinguished the fire and said in a steely voice, "I have a message from the Son."  He unsheathed his dagger.  "Your time is up!"  Then he flew full tilt at the demon.

Poneros knew trouble when he saw it.  He gave his wings a hard flap and catapulted over the moon just in the nick of time. 

Chara didn't bother going after him.  Instead he returned to Brady's side.

The cold air in the room hit Brady like a brick.  "Must be 20 below in here," he thought to himself.  He stood there for a moment and looked longingly at his bed.   "No way," he said firmly.  His expression turned purposeful.  "I'm spending time with the Lord this morning and that's that." 

A hot shower would take the chill out of his bones.

* * *

Brady packed his lunch while the coffee was brewing.  Chara was only inches away, watching for the enemy of God.

Poneros slithered into the room, apparently not worried about the consequences.  He gave him the evil eye and said, "I have been given permission to tempt him.  So your reason for interfering is…?" 

Chara glared at him and repeated, "Your time is up!"   

Infuriated the evil spirit growled, "No way!" then he flew into a floor vent.

Brady checked his messages.  Nothing from Dan.

A soft hiss floated out of the vent.  Chara rolled his eyes.  If it was meant to frighten him he was clearly wasting his breath.

Then a voice echoed from the vent, "Brady McCoy is ours!"

Chara replied coolly, "The battle belongs to the Lord!"   

Poneros snarled, "That's what you think!" He flew from the vent and landed on top of the hutch.  The evil spirit wasn't ready to give up on Brady.  Not by a long shot.  "OURS!" he roared.

The angel's expression was resolute. 

Poneros was fit to be tied.  In complete and utter frustration he flew around the kitchen spewing obscenities (that I shall not repeat). 

The angel ignored him. 

Nothing the demon said or did got the reaction he was looking for.  He had never felt so out of control.  Worn out, he lit on the sink and hissed, "Ourssssss!" Giving it one last try he zipped into the air and fired another poison arrow…bing!  This one hit the warrior's wing hard enough to knock him off balance.  Still, he had no problem stopping a succession of the evil spirit's thought-numbing arrows. 

Poneros wanted to pluck out Chara's feathers one by one!  Rip off that untarnished halo!  Run him through with his own sword!

But first things first.  The Chief of Evil had sent him to inject apathy into the backslider's mind -- come hell or high water!  And he had better succeed  or…or what?  The thought of what they'd do to him made him shiver.  He had to win.  He must! 

Poneros aimed his bow and sent another arrow flying.  He wasn't going to give up until he had no more weapons to fight with.  His well-being depended on it. 

Chara deflected every deadly projectile that came at Brady.  Why, he wondered, was the fiend spending so much time on Brady McCoy?  Certainly there were bigger fish to fry, especially on Capitol Hill. 

Brady stirred sugar into his coffee completely clueless that there was a battle raging in his kitchen. 

Out of arrows and ideas, Poneros settled on the hutch.  Since he was prevented from getting close to Brady he imagined scalding coffee down the front of his starched white shirt.  But that wasn't going to happen.  "Damn you to hell!" he cried in frustration.  He then flew into the vent to regroup.  No way could he allow the angel to think he'd won.  What to do, what to do…?  Perhaps one of his mind-games would work.  He had never tried it on an angel before.  But what did he have to lose?

Poneros elevated above the house and shouted down at Chara, "Hard to give one of them up, isn't it?" Grinning from ear to ear he puffed out his chest and pranced around as if he had just won a great victory.  Then he did the demon jig. 

Poneros hadn't come close to fooling Chara.  The warrior of God sensed that the evil forces would never have Brady McCoy, that this man's name was written in the Book of Life.  He turned away.  It was best to ignore them when they were like this.

OK, so his scheme had failed.  The angel couldn't be rattled or deceived.  What now?

Poneros was still not ready to give up on Brady -- not for a millisecond.  A lot of Christians back-slid and when this one messed up, the demons would be on him like flies on a picnic table.   Meanwhile he had no choice but to leave.  No more dilly-dallying.  Commander Fonias would report his failure to the Chief of Demons.  For his punishment he'd have to endure the humiliation of taking a refresher course in infiltrating the human mind and capturing the soul.  Centuries ago when he was still a novice he had been first in his graduating class.  Back then he had excelled in mind manipulation.  Other classes he'd done well in were: Doubting God's Goodness…The Devil's a Myth…Evolution is Settled Science…Benevolent Abortions…Twelve Steps to Addictive Behavior… Playing the Victim...Back-Stabbing Your Friends…Jesus Loves the Little Perverts (his all time favorite class)…Fueling Human Narcissism…Faith is a Force…Jesus Doesn't Judge Anyone…Christian Orthodoxy is Passé (another big time favorite)…Feelings Trump the Bible…The Inclusive Church…and Magical, mystical Christianity.

Poneros shook his fist at Heaven.  "BRADY MCCOY IS OURS!"  Then he grumbled softly, "OK, he was ours…until YOU sent that goody two-shoes angel to fight for him." 

Chara chuckled.  He had been called many foul names by demons but goody-two shoes was a first.  A message from Above pierced through his thoughts….a Special Envoy was on his way to Brady McCoy.  The angel said to himself, "Someone's praying for him."   

Brady licked cream cheese off the knife he had used on a raisin bagel.  Chara mused, "Humans in America love to eat.  This young man is no exception."

* * *

Brady settled into a kitchen chair and opened his Bible.  As was his custom before reading, he bowed his head and prayed: "Lord, as I study your word, teach me through the power of your Holy Spirit.  Make these words clear, practical and helpful.  In Christ's Name.  Amen." 

He removed his bookmark from Paul's letter to the Ephesians, chapter 6.  He took a gulp of coffee and began reading.  Above verse 10 was the heading: The Armor of God. 

Paul had used strong words to warn the Church about the ever present danger lurking around.  Although Brady hadn't taken spiritual warfare seriously when his pastor had spoken of it, the words on the page had his full attention.  He took a pen from a slot in the book jacket and underlined the essential pieces of armor:

The belt of truth;
The breastplate of righteousness;
Feet shod with the preparation the gospel of peace;
The shield of faith;
The helmet of salvation;
The sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God;
Be alert…praying always. 

Brady found it interesting that Paul had used a Roman soldier's armor as a metaphor to illustrate God's spiritual armor. A Roman soldier's breastplate protected his vital organs.  The helmet he wore protected his head.  The two-edged sword was used to slay the enemy, and to fend off blows from the same.

He thought to himself, "A believer's armor isn't all that material stuff like a Roman soldier
wore.  Our armor is a person.  As Paul put it, the Person of Jesus Christ! So, what he's saying is that in order to protect myself I've got to 'put on' Jesus Christ and His righteousness. I've got to depend on God's strength, not my own strength."

Brady took a bite of bagel and washed it down with coffee. He had made it stronger than usual so that he wouldn't nod off while he read. "Jesus is my armor," he repeated over and over.

One thing that had jumped out at him was the word stand.  Stand against the devil's schemes…stand your ground…stand firm…Paul used it repeatedly.

Brady sat there staring at the page, wondering how he could have overlooked the importance of keeping God's protection on 24/7.  As a reminder he wrote in the margin: A Christian's armor is Jesus Christ.   

A whooshing sound got Chara's attention.  He looked up and saw God's Special Envoy coming out of Heaven and marveled at the sight of him.  Chara was exquisite, to be sure.  But guardian angels were more beautiful than the warrior class.  What's more, the guardian's supernatural powers were far superior to host warriors. 

Chara caught his breath.  This angel was extraordinary.  Emblazoned on his shield were two words: ABSOLUTE TRUTH.  God had sent none other than the Angel of Truth to protect Brady McCoy from the Evil One.

Chara cried out, "Greetings Anabo!" 

The guardian's face lit up like a Christmas tree.  "Back at you my friend!"

The evil spirits had their work cut out for them as this angel was a force to be reckoned with.  Although he was an expert with the sword he rarely had to use it.   If Poneros returned he was in for a wild ride.

Anabo's smile lit up the room.  "I see he's in the Word." He peered at the Book.  "Ephesians 6?  Excellent!"

Chara nodded, "Excellent indeed." Then he put in, "Now he understands."

The smile disappeared.  "The Adversary won't give up."

Chara said, "A veteran visited Brady.  He gave it his all but made no headway.  Now he realizes they're losing power over him and may have gone for help."

Anabo quipped, "Bring 'em on!"

"How long will you stay?"

He pointed up to the sky.  "It's His decision, of course.  But, as you know, I'm only sent when they need guarding for long periods of Earth time. So I'll be around for awhile."  He grinned and said, "You warriors are here today, gone tomorrow." 

Chara nodded.  He thought about the trouble brewing in San Francisco.  "True.  The Son keeps us busy fighting His battles.  Serving Him is a joy."


"Well then," said Chara, "it seems Brady McCoy is in good wings so I'll be on my way."

Anabo gave him a broad smile.  "God speed, my friend!"

The radiance emanating from the angel's face was almost too bright for Chara.  So he bid his friend adieu and shot up to Heaven.

* * *

Brady wasn't the ruler of a country.  He wasn't a cardinal in the Church, a famous evangelist, or a member of Congress or Parliament.  He was middle-class, not wealthy.  His only claim to fame was that he could sing like country crooner Randy Travis so on occasion he was asked to sing a solo during the church service.  Even his job as an analogue design engineer for a small computer company was nothing to brag about.  Yet the Angel of Truth had been sent to keep watch over him.  He had also been sent to the Apostle Paul a time or two.  It was Anabo's smile that had temporarily blinded him prior to his conversion, while he was still called Saul. 

Brady McCoy was one of the Lord's beloved.  The instant Brady accepted Christ as his Lord and Savior he was adopted into the family of God.  At the moment of death he would take up permanent residence in Heaven.  What his eternal home would be like was anyone's guess.  All Brady knew was that the home Jesus had designed especially for him would be amazing.

Brady had a strong desire to grow in knowledge and wisdom but was easily led astray. The time had come for Brady to mature in his faith.  God selected Anabo to guard him through the trials and tribulations he would face.  With Anabo holding the forces of wickedness at bay the work

of the Holy Spirit would go unhindered.  Whenever Anabo was on the job Satan's conspirators had little power over humans -- unless God allowed it.

Brady stopped reading. "Wow," he whispered.  "Why did I doubt this?" he wondered. "I mean, it's totally clear."

The veil had been lifted. There was no longer a doubt in his mind that a spiritual battle was raging in the "heavenly realms."  According to Paul, God's elect angels were battling non stop with the "rulers" and "authorities" and "powers" of this "dark world."  This thought sprang to his mind: "Satan and his demons are way crueler than the Taliban and Al Qaeda combined."  It came to him that incorporeal beings aren't made of flesh and blood like humans.  But if they had blood in them no doubt the war would be a bloody one.  His eyes darted around the room, searching.  Was an angel present?  He shrugged off the thought.  "Even if an angel was here I wouldn't be able to see it."  Then a chill ran up his spine.  "What about a demon?"  His eyes shot to the floor vent, then up to the ceiling.  He felt uneasy.  "Man, I've really been a slacker."

Then and there Brady McCoy made up his mind that he would put on the armor of God…daily.  He knew he had to if he had any hope of living a victorious Christian life.  He gave himself a reprimand: "Why didn't you take spiritual warfare seriously? It's in the Bible, dude!" He stuffed the last bite of bagel in his mouth.  While he chewed he continued mulling over what Paul had said.  "What made me think I could fight Satan in my own strength?  You're as dumb as a bucket of mud, McCoy!"

The story of Job popped into his mind.  It struck him that when Satan came before God, it was God who brought Job to his attention.  Satan accused the Lord of putting a hedge of protection around Job.   God gave the Adversary certain restrictions and then He put Job's household and everything he owned into his hands.  Brady concluded that "God allowed the devil to afflict Job but in the end the Old Serpent wasn't victorious.  Job regained all that he had lost…and more." 

Something Pastor Tom had said about Satan came to mind.  As he preached on 1 Peter he had quoted 5:8, "Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour."  He pointed out that when Christ went to the cross to pay the price for the sins of mankind He had defeated the evil forces as well.  The lion could still roar…but he had been defanged.  His pastor was quick to remind them that the devil and his followers remain on Earth, so they must always keep their guard up.  He cautioned them that Christians cannot fight the Evil One in their own strength, but in the strength of the Church, the Body of Christ.   

Then it came to Brady, "Tom said the Church body receives its power from the Holy Spirit... Christians are to stand our ground."

The Holy Spirit whispered Exodus 14:13-14 in Brady's mind: "Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the LORD, which he will shew to you to day…The LORD shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace." 

Brady chewed on the end of his pen, thinking, "Stand still." Then he blurted out, "Lord, why would I want to go into enemy territory and take on demons if I have you fighting for me?" He heaved a sigh and said to himself, "Think I'll do as Paul suggested and put on the armor of God. Oh, and I'll do as Moses said. . . let the Lord fight for me."

The Holy Spirit was enlightening Brady's mind.  To an angel it was a thrilling thing to behold.  Anabo felt tingly all over.

A moment later Brady closed his Bible, bowed his head, and began to pray.

* * *

Two loathsome spirits hovered over the house on Cherry Lane, out of Anabo's range.  When Brady began to pray one of them cried out, "ANABO!" 

Anabo looked up.  Poneros was back.  Fonias, a commander in the Mercenary Army, was with him.  He and Fonias had tangled many times since the Great Rebellion.  Anabo scanned the area for other hostile forces, cognizant that the Adversary had sent two tough cookies to distract him.  Both demons descended slowly and settled several yards away. The revolting duo reeked of burning flesh and their eyes emitted hate.  Anabo met their cold stare.  Poneros croaked, "Ours!"

Anabo just looked at him.

Fonias was growing impatient.  "We've come to take him back!" he hissed.

"Not this time!" came the angel's reply.  Then Anabo flashed a smile…and the entire sky lit up like a football field on a dark winter night.  Poneros let out a shriek that could be heard in Fargo North Dakota.  In an instant their cloaks were covering their faces.  The light from the angel's

smile was too intense for their hypersensitive eyes.   

From behind his cloak Poneros moaned, "I'm blind!"

Fearless Fonias said in a husky voice, "I'd forgotten about that smile of yours, you pathetic
excuse for an angel."

Anabo kept right on smiling.

Fonias was not giving up the ghost.  "Be forewarned, angel!  A thousand like you will not stop us from controlling the mind of that dirt bag!"

"Yeah!" echoed Poneros, still quaking beneath his robe.  "I'll…we'll control the dirt bag again!"

Fonias boiled with rage.  "You're wasting your time, holier than thou angel!  "Go away," he said with a wave of his cloak. "Go to Heaven where you belong!"

Anabo replied dismissively, "I take my orders from the King."

Fonias ribbed Poneros. "Get him!" he hollered.

The evil duo flew toward Brady screeching like banshees. Up went Anabo's shield and two of them bounced off it like a tennis ball colliding with a racket. 


The dazed demons cursed him royally as they turned tail and flew out of there.   

From a rooftop several blocks away Fonias shoved a bony finger into Poneros' chest. "You simpleton," he snarled as if his inferior was entirely to blame for the hammering they had just received.  Poneros took the rebuke in stride.  What else could he do?  "Get out of my sight!" thundered Fonias.  "NOW!"

Poneros immediately obeyed and took to the sky.  At the moment Brady McCoy was the last thing on his mind.  He was too busy hatching a plan to take revenge on Commander Fonias to worry about a miserable human dirt bag. 



* * *



Brady had the radio tuned to the Albert Mohler program while he cruised down the highway in his Mustang with the top down.  Dr. Mohler and his guest were discussing the debt Jesus Christ paid on the cross for all mankind.  The thought of God's redemptive plan brought tears to the young man's eyes.  He mused. "The Son of God became flesh and died in my place to cover my sins.  Nothing to do with my performance, nothing I can do to earn salvation, he reminded himself.  I'm saved by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone."

Brady pushed a Christian CD into the slot.  Soon he was singing at the top of his voice along with the band:  "Jesus your name is power. . .Jesus your name is might. . .Jesus your name will break every stronghold. . .Jesus your name is life..." 

At the end of the song Brady bellowed, "AMEN!" 

Anabo was close by keeping watch over God's beloved.  While Brady drove, the angel's watchful eyes scanned the landscape looking for signs of the enemy.  He spotted a suspicious looking cloud way off in the distance.  A moment later a band of mercenaries broke out and headed straight for the Mustang.  In a flash they were over the vehicle.  Two of them left the pack and began circling like vultures waiting to pick the flesh off a dead animal.  All the while they barked foul curses at Brady's guardian. 

On this occasion Anabo held back his scintillating smile.  A slight grin would be enough to stop the smarmy creatures from attacking.  When the sky suddenly lit up like the aurora borealis the demon's cloaks came up to shield their eyes.  Madder than a sack of porcupines they started screeching and moaning, cursing and threatening.  One cried out, "It's Anabo!"

Brady began humming "Amazing Grace."  Smoke came out of their ears when he got to "now I'm saved."  Clearly this human was a waste of time. To get Anabo's goat they blasphemed God and rejoined the pack.

"Another battle won," said the Angel of Truth.

The sky glowed with all the colors of the rainbow.   Anabo glanced over at Brady. He had just pulled into a parking spot and turned off the engine.  He sat there for a moment, thinking about the people he worked with.  There were 22 -- and only 3 serious Christians, he being one of them.  For over a month he had been praying that God would give him an opportunity to share his faith.  Once again he closed his eyes and bowed his head.  "Father, I pray that you'll soften hearts and open minds.  I ask that you'll protect me from enemy attacks as I share Christ with the lost.  I ask this in His precious Name."

Anabo looked up to heaven and smiled broadly.  A chorus of angels burst into song.  The King smiled back. 

Do not gloat over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will rise. Though I sit in darkness, the LORD will be my light.  --Micah 7:8

Angel/demon names are from Greek:
Poneros… evil that causes labor, pain, sorrow
Fonias…Killer, murderer
Anabo…glow, ignite, light

By Marsha West

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