Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgements, and His ways past finding out. ~ Romans 11:33

Dominion angel Clovis and his elderly charge, Mrs. Snipperblister, were wandering through the rummage sale at The Church on the Way after the service had ended. Clovis had his guardian-angel hands full with this little spitfire. She came to church every Sunday and Wednesday, mostly out of boredom.

She didn’t realize it, but Mrs. Snipperblister took great pleasure in making people feel guilty about things—things they were doing, things they were not doing, things they didn’t do well enough. She told herself she was helping them to be better people, but in actuality she just enjoyed the nitpicking. There was usually a mischievous demonic power clinging to her back or sitting on her shoulder, prompting her to cut people down with an acerbic remark, or to wither them with her judgmental stare.

Today that demonic power was in the form of a furry little capuchin monkey with a brown muzzle. The little old lady picked up a Hummel, a painted porcelain figurine of two children dressed in old-fashioned country German clothing, huddling under an umbrella. “Oh, Stormy Weather,” she squealed in delight.

Just then, Adoram whooshed in the door of the church classroom where the rummage sale was being held. He found Barook trying to be inconspicuous behind a rack of women’s clothing. “Praise be to God! You have returned,” whispered the guardian angel.

“Yes, I told Gabriel of the situation and he cleared me to help. I’ll break the news to our boy over there. You stay here until I call for you,” the seraph instructed. He made his way past some old, beat-up toys to a section of the room where Rodney was now arranging dusty DVDs on a shelf. After catching his breath for a few minutes, Rodney had continued with his duties.

“I can’t believe you didn’t see my amazing wipe-out,” he was shouting to Kirby who was on the other side of the room. “I flew so high in the air I think I hit the ceiling. Luckily, I landed in a pile of clothes. Kim and Elias are going to be so mad they missed it.”

“Uh huh,” Kirby muttered noncommittally while looking down at his phone.

“Excuse me,” said Adoram, spreading wide his glorious feathery white wings which quivered with the power of heaven.

The words “Oh wow!” fell out of Rodney’s mouth as he turned and faced the angel. Then he tripped over a CD rack and face-planted on the floor, his strawberry-blond curls covering his face. Barook, peering from behind the rack of dresses, cringed. “Zounds! A fall and I’ve been remiss! I must get close if this wight is not to pierce himself through.”

Mrs. Snipperblister, meanwhile, had picked up a second Hummel figurine of a child with small wings kneeling on a cloud. Her guardian angel Clovis looked over her shoulder and said, “Baby angels—how ridiculous! We don’t look like that. After 20 years of listening to sermons, you know the truth. We aren’t children.” The capuchin screeched, scratched his bottom, and said into the old lady’s ear, “Take it! Take it! You need that Hummel to complete your collection!” The septuagenarian deftly slid the figurine into her purse while furtively looking around her.

“What the what?” shouted Clovis.

Rodney lifted his head up off the floor and looked over at all the spirit-based commotion. “Is that a monkey?”

The white-haired woman looked around the room. “What monkey? Boy, are you daft?”

“Ahem.” Adoram cleared his throat to get Rodney’s attention back. “Young man, I have something very important to tell you.”

Rodney stood up and swiveled his head back toward the glowing heavenly being. “I don’t feel so well,” Rodney mumbled. “I hit my head. I think I need a doctor. I should call 911.” Rodney pulled his phone out, dialed the emergency services number, and managed to blurt out, “I have a head injury.”

Adoram came closer to explain to Rodney what was happening, but the angel’s glory overwhelmed Rodney and he fainted. Instead of hitting the floor, he fell onto the pink velvet loveseat bedecked with purple ribbons. The floor would have been less humiliating for him. Adoram began to worry that Rodney would not have the strength of mind to deal with his newfound vision without going crazy.

“Hey! Who’s running this dog and pony show?” yelled Mrs. Snipperblister, looking around the room for someone to help her reach another Hummel high on a shelf. Clovis ran his hands over his face and sighed.

“I’ll help you, ma’am,” said Kirby ambling slowly in her direction.