Gabriel's Story - 25 January 2020
Greetings readers. I’ve been on walkabout for the last couple of weeks, enjoying the Creator’s masterpiece and re-energizing my batteries. One of the benefits of being a Christian is that we can see in every day the divine workings of the Almighty God. Both the good and the bad are balanced by a knowledge that His divine plan is perfect.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Gabriel reached over and silenced his alarm before opening his eyes. In the silence he could hear the occasional chirping of birds outside his window. It was mid-Winter and they still managed to sing. In the darkness of the room he could easily make out the outline of his dresser, closet door, and open bedroom door leading to the master bathroom. He marveled at how the human eye could adapt to low light levels and at how sharp his vision was in the early morning. He also realized his bedroom accoutrements were sparse and figured it was common for a middle-aged bachelor. He threw off the covers and rotated up, swinging his pajama-clad legs over the side of his bed and aligning his feet with well-worn slippers. He stood up, stretched, and reached for his bathrobe before heading down the hall to his study.
His new resolve was beginning to become a habit as he walked past the kitchen, coffee mug waiting by the Keurig. For the last two weeks, since missing church that Sunday morning and meeting with Sean that Sunday afternoon, Gabriel committed to making his first act of the day reading the Bible, followed by prayer. Then, and only then, would he allow himself to be distracted by such unimportant things as coffee and food. There was a choice coming, and Gabriel was preparing for war.
He who is unmarried cares for the things of the Lord—how he may please the Lord. But he who is married cares about the things of the world—how he may please his wife. There is a difference between a wife and a virgin. Gabriel looked up from his passage in 1 Corinthians and wondered aloud. “I wonder what he means by, “…difference between a wife and a virgin…”
Behind him an angel he had never seen touched his shoulder and whispered a prayer in a language no man had ever heard.
Across the street, Abaddon fumed.
--- *** ---
The phone rang in Pastor Sean’s office, but he let the machine get it. He was deep in prayer and didn’t want the distraction – until he heard the voice.
“Pastor Sean, this is Stacy. I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re probably getting ready for today’s sermon, but I need your help.” Stacy Livingston, one of the church’s younger prayer warriors, was crying, her voice quivering. “There’s been another accident.”
Sean’s eyes popped open and he reached for the phone. “I’m here, Stacy. What happened?”
Hearing Sean’s voice sent Stacy into a fit of sobs and coughs. Sean could barely decipher the words Stacy spoke, between her sobs and all the background noise. He could make out wailing of sirens, shouts – the noise of an active accident scene. “…accident…Charlie…ambulance…”
“Ok, ok. Slow down, Stacy. Where are you?”
---***---
The phone in Gabriel’s office rang. Unlike Sean, Gabriel didn’t hesitate in picking it up. His devotions were regimented – he read, he prayed, he listened, and he read some more. Before listening, he rejected any distractions. But while he listened for anything that might seem an answer to his prayer, he heard the phone. Without hesitation he hit the “talk” button.
“Gabriel, I need you to meet me at the Good Shepherd ER as soon as possible. Can you do that?”
Again, he didn’t hesitate. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll see you in fifteen.”
The line went dead and Gabriel headed to the shower, shedding his bathrobe and slippers on the way. He didn’t need to know the details or ask why Sean wanted him at the emergency room. This was the third such call he’d received in the last two weeks. Gabriel also didn’t need Sean’s experience or the voice inside to tell him what was happening
.
The church was at war and Gabriel felt partly responsible.
---***---
It took him sixteen minutes to shower, dress and reach the rear entrance to Good Shepherd’s emergency department. Access to the “ER” was restricted to official personnel. At Good Shepherd, “official personnel” included clergy and senior church representatives, of which Gabriel was one. He nodded to the hospital guard standing just inside the entryway. “Morning, Jacob.”
“Morning Mr. Morningstar.” Gabriel noticed that Jacob didn’t use his usual “good morning” greeting. He slid past into what looked like a war zone as Jacob held the door. “Sad seeing you again so soon.”
The cacophony of sounds, smells, and sights assaulted Gabriel’s senses. Various loud buzzers and alarms joined shouts and echoes. The smell of sour apples mixed with that of bleach, metal and rotten eggs to turn even the sturdiest of stomachs. The lights were bright, painfully so in comparison with the dreary January morning.
Beyond a mass of bloody bandages and stained clothes stood Pastor Sean holding Stacy Livingston. Stacy’s tear streaked face was barely visible above Sean’s shoulder, her mascara in disarray and her makeup only half done. Gabriel surmised she was getting ready for church when the accident occurred. He also guessed Sean was physically holding up the exhausted Stacy, as her arms lay limp by her sides and her knees angled inward. She was wearing a turquoise pencil skirt stained with blood underneath an oversized grey sweatshirt.
To the right, Gabriel saw Stacy’s husband, Mike, hands cuffed, sitting on a bench and talking to the police. Mike wasn’t a regular at church, despite Stacy’s and Pastor Sean’s attempts at courting him. He started drinking after returning from Afghanistan and swore he didn’t need a God who would allow the atrocities he had seen. His face too was tear streaked, but stoic. He gave simple, one-word answers to the questions he was being asked.
As he walked further into the room, Gabriel found the source of everyone’s sadness laying on the bed surrounded by nurses and doctors. Young Charlie Livingston, nine, lay there in nothing but his Captain America underwear with blood stains and bloody fingerprints covering most of his body. He had tubes sticking out of his mouth and nose and the nurses were taking turns compressing his chest to keep the blood flowing through his body as a machine in the corner cycled a mixture of oxygen and other inert elements into and out of his lungs. There was a hole in Charlie’s chest, but no blood leaked out.
Gabriel noticed Sean’s attention shift as he looked past Stacy towards Mike. When he looked, Gabriel found one of Abaddon’s minions standing stoic, one hand on Mike’s shoulder and the other fondling the evidence bag in the police sergeant’s possession. It was the first time Gabriel had seen the evidence bag, but it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Mike’s favorite handgun. He carried it openly everywhere he went. Stacy had even confided that Mike slept with it under his pillow.
Sean motioned Gabriel over towards Mike as the sounds in the room died down. When he reached Mike’s side and place his hand over Abaddon’s minion’s, forcing him to step away, the only sound in the room was the constant drone of the heart monitor. It sang a perfect B minor.
Flatline.
