Then he dreamed, and behold, a ladder was set up on the earth, and its top reached to heaven; and there the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. ~ Genesis 28:12

 He didn’t know this, of course, because angels can’t see into the future or read men’s minds, but Adoram was about to have his even-keeled existence upended by a clumsy red-headed teenager. Adoram headed to earth regularly to check up on the guardian angels he oversaw, going by way of many of the same portals that he had been using for hundreds of years. True, some new ones had been created since Adoram first started his job as a supervising angel a millennium ago—mostly in Africa, China and north America.

Today, Adoram fluttered his six wings and they gently propelled him through the heavenly streets of gold, down an alley, over to a field where ten or so other angels were lined up waiting to access a newer portal to the physical dimension. Some of the angels were four-winged, some had six wings, and some had two. All of them were dressed in pure white linen robes. Along some of the robes, from the shoulder to the waist, ran golden sashes. If one didn’t know better, this scene might have been mistaken for an odd beauty contest.

Adoram joined the back of the line and watched the other angels climb onto the glowing ladder which resembled a twisting DNA helix. As the angels descended a few rungs, they disappeared from their spiritual dimension and appeared on earth at a corresponding spot in Los Angeles. When it was his turn to descend, Adoram fluttered his wings slightly and grabbed the ladder. His seraph angel feet felt the change first as they moved down the rungs. It was a bit like being shocked by a low voltage wire, stimulating but not too painful. Adoram knew from experience that this particular transition zone was only about 15 rungs deep, making one full twist of the ladder. This portal, or HeavenLink as the angels called it, was located closest to his appointment on earth. He used it every April to give dominion angel Barook his annual review.

As he materialized on earth that beautiful, warm, spring day, Adoram fluttered his wings again and flew quickly off the ladder onto the ground. Sulphur dioxide and diesel fumes from the L.A. traffic registered in the angel’s nose. The Los Angeles HeavenLink was obscured behind some bushes at the back of Angelus Temple in Echo Park, a downtown neighborhood. Not that it needed to be hidden. Most people couldn’t detect a HeavenLink with their physical senses. Adoram cleared the ladder and took a minute to watch the angels behind him fly toward their duties in the city. They flew in all directions: some went north toward Glendale. Others went south toward Compton. And still others flew off west toward the sea. Adoram headed northwest into the San Fernando Valley where he knew guardian angel Barook was looking after his oh-so-clumsy personal assignment.

Once Adoram reached the city of Van Nuys, he flew along Sherman Way and whooshed past latecomers straggling in through the doors of The Church on the Way like cows coming home to the barn after a full day of grazing. The Church’s pastor, Jack Temple, was animatedly reading from the book of Ephesians while traversing the stage that served as a pulpit. He was like Steve Harvey delivering a monologue. Adoram stopped for a moment near the ceiling so he could watch the passionate preacher deliver his message.

“Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armor of God that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.”

Hovering over a row of churchgoers, Adoram looked down at the men and women dressed in their Sunday-go-to-meetin’ clothes. He nodded at dominion angel Clovis who was sitting next to an elderly woman whose stomach kept growling. Adoram saw a demon in the form of a capuchin monkey clinging to the old woman’s shoulder. The monkey whispered into her ear, “You’re so hungry. What should you have for lunch when this is over? How about fried chicken? You love fried chicken.” The woman licked her lips dreamily as Clovis leaned over and whispered in her other ear, “Listen, this is the good part of the sermon.”

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness.”

Adoram winked at Clovis and passed on over the heads of the congregation. He could see winged dominion angels sitting next to their charges or hovering just above them. He also clocked the number of demonic creatures everywhere, attempting to distract and annoy the people there—too many of them for Adoram’s liking.

Pastor Temple raised his arms above his head and continued, “Therefore take up the whole armor of God” as the seraph angel glided elegantly out the doors and across the courtyard where the classrooms were located. Through the windows of one of the classrooms, he noted Rodney Simplessohn arranging used furniture into rows and aisles. On the wall outside the room, a sign hung:

Church Bazaar Today!

Come Explore the Treasures of the Kingdom!

And Other Used Stuff.

Proceeds Benefit our Outreach Ministries.

Rodney could hear Pastor Temple delivering his sermon through the sound system. “Are you a spiritual warrior,” he asked his church congregants, “or a spiritual wimp?”

“I’m probably a spiritual wimp,” Rodney replied to the crackling speaker mounted on the wall as his skinny arms strained to pick up a shabby side table that reeked of paint stripper.

“Let me now share a truth with you that I learned from my friend Pastor Joseph Prince from Singapore,” Pastor Temple continued. “God has an armor. It is what Jesus wore when He walked on earth. He left the armor behind for us when He returned to heaven. That armor is recognizable to Satan. Remember the medieval knights you learned about in school? They wore armor that identified them, too. Their shields and helmets bore their family crests. Each knight’s armor was made a certain way, customized for them. It was recognizable to the crowds who were cheering them on. Well, Satan knows God’s armor well. And when you put on God’s armor, all the devil sees is God—not you. Isn’t that amazing? Satan sees the armor that defeated him 2,000 years ago at the cross.”

Shadowing Rodney like a loyal guard dog was dominion angel Barook, dressed in the uniform of all the angels: a white linen robe. His two feathery white wings splayed out from his shoulders and hung down to his thighs. Barook was seriously concentrating with all his might on the lanky, freckle-faced young man in front of him.

“Greetings, Barook,” whispered Adoram.

Barook looked up and smiled at his old friend. “Huzzah! Tis thee! Has the time come again so soon, for my angelic review? Why, it seems as though the golden wheat has felt the sickle but once since last we met.”

Adoram enjoyed the antiquated way that Barook spoke. Barook was one of the oldest angels and he took his time adjusting his language over the centuries. It was endearing.

“That’s probably because you’re so focused on your charge there.” Adoram nodded toward Rodney who was at that moment stumbling around while attempting to carry a very old, very huge television set. Barook spread his hands out like a basketball player guarding an opponent and followed behind the swaying, weaving, red-haired eighteen-year-old in an attempt to protect him.

“I can see the challenges you face with your current assignment haven’t eased up in the past year. And yet, he bears no fresh scars. Well done.”

“I givest thou my humblest thanks,” responded Barook while barely removing his eyes from Rodney who was now pulling a giant exercise ball out of a pile of sports equipment. A fishing rod and a skateboard went in two different directions as Rodney yanked the ball loose, falling backwards. Barook was there, instantly, underneath Rodney to absorb the blow when the boy hit the floor. “Ooomph,” they uttered in unison.

“I hate to pull you away from your duties, even for a second, but I need your seal on this angelic review,” said Adoram. “I’m giving you five halos.”

Before Adoram had finished speaking, Rodney was on the move again, bouncing his way down each aisle on the exercise ball instead of walking.

“Thank you, sir, but canst thou know the depth and breadth of energy flow from that boy so seeming slow?” asked Barook in his old-fashioned vernacular. “He is not allowed to go near that paper you hold just so—that slice of spirit, piece of heaven, home of God. This thou knowest well, I’m sure, but please move farther from that boy.”

“Ah, I see. Is this far enough away?” asked Adoram from the corner of the room.

“Perhaps this ritual we should conduct up near the ceiling, sir.”

“Really?  Well that would be fine,” answered Adoram as he floated up and unrolled the angelic scroll.

Below them, Rodney accidentally rode his bouncing FitBall onto the errant skateboard.

Not noticing the antics of the teenager below, Barook pressed his thumb onto the document as his signature in unison with Adoram. The document glowed under the power of the angels’ touch. At that same moment, the ball-topped skateboard propelled Rodney onto a mini trampoline below the winged creatures. Rodney bounced up off the trampoline and shot skyward at an alarming rate. He took on the supernatural white glow of the document as he passed through it and hit the ceiling with a thud. “Ohhhhhh!” he cried.

Horrified, Barook instantly flew to the floor to absorb Rodney’s inevitable crash. As Rodney neared the concrete floor, Barook’s wings guided the boy onto a pile of soft, worn-out clothes. Rodney had the wind knocked out of him, but nothing worse. 

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Adoram, afraid of the glow that Rodney had taken on when he sailed through the powered angelic contract. “I wonder what that means.”