Monday, December 18, 2017

Sarah: A Mission of Love

Have you met Sarah?
This is the first book featuring this popular, silly, and lovable angel.


EXCERPT—Sarah: A Mission of Love
Copyright © 2012 Gay N. Lewis

“What is she doing?” The Commander watched the little angel from his position above the earth.
“Our Sarah is directionally challenged.” The Lieutenant grimaced as he gazed at his graduate student.
“She’s flitting from cloud to cloud.” The Commander narrowed his eyes. “Is that a map in her hand?” His gaze followed the diminutive resident of Heaven as she alternated between scanning the paper in her hand and scrutinizing her surroundings.
“Yes, sir, but she can’t figure it out. She has no clue she’s holding the diagram upside down.” The Lieutenant shook his head. “She’s taken Map Reading 101 three times, and I’ve personally tutored her. She’s a bit dyslexic and gets her left and right confused, along with east, west, north and south. At least she knows up and down.” He bit his lip as he saw the pint-sized trainee shoot up when she needed to go down. He held his breath when the little angel hesitated in mid-air with her wings unfurled. She then lowered her head and plunged several feet at high speed velocity before she righted herself.
The Lieutenant blew a loud whooshing breath. “Well, let me rephrase that. She recognizes up and down most of the time.” He shook his head and turned his attention to the Commander. “Sir, I’m not so sure this is the best angel for this assignment. Sarah’s fresh out of school. May I ask why you didn’t send Rachael?”
“Rachael has other lessons to learn. Sarah will do fine.” The Commander spoke with conviction.
“I wish I could believe it.”
The Commander smiled. “It’s a matter of faith.”
“Faith?”
“I believe in her. She’ll mature from this mission and grow in self-confidence.”
The Superiors grew silent as they watched the little one. A gust of wind blew the map from her hand. She made a comical sight as she grabbed at the air for her set of directions. Losing her balance, she tumbled head over feet and plummeted to Earth in a spiral. She made a thud when her bottom hit solid ground. Rising, she inspected her wings and smiled. Nothing appeared broken.
The Commander furrowed his eyebrows and turned to his Lieutenant. “Give her time to do her job, but keep your eyes on her.”
* * *
Sarah looked around and wondered where she was. Having never been to the planet Earth before, she was excited to receive her first commission to help the humans. She had watched them from her perch in the upper abode, but this was her first experience as a servant to one.
The space she had plunged through had been cold, but the physical activity had kept her from noticing the elements. Now that she was on Earth, she found the air cooler than expected. She turned up her internal thermostat to adjust to Earth’s temperature—a procedure sometimes necessary in The Heavenlies. The Charge of the Celestial Climate kept it perfect for most inhabitants, but individuals could always adjust their personal heating and cooling system if needed.
The sun looked bright and glorious from this perspective, but snow was on its way. The Charge of the Terrestrial Climate had given a weather report before she left, and Sarah anticipated her first touch of the beautiful, white stuff. From her perch in the heavens, it resembled a cloud covering the ground instead of one hovering between earth and heaven.
Sarah needed to find Tom Shoemaker. His prayer was her reason for coming to Earth. But where was he? Her map had blown away and she had landed in a secluded spot with no recognizable landmarks. Rolling hills, trees, and brown grass filled the landscape—no buildings or streets. Often lost in the upper realm, what made her think the lower one would make a difference? How on earth was she to decide which way to go?
Giggling at that last thought—because she was “on earth”—she jammed an index finger into her mouth, wet it fully, and held it to the atmosphere. The airstream swirled around the moist digit, and she chose to follow the wind. It was as good a place to start as any. With the wind at her back, she plunged ahead on foot. She was accustomed to weightlessness and air. Solid earth was an interesting phenomenon, but it had its limitations. Deciding the foot method of transportation was too slow, Sarah took to the air.
Soaring above the trees, she turned in a slow circle until she caught site of a steeple—a church! As if pulled by some celestial magnet, she found herself flying towards the place of worship without any conscious decision to do so. Missing her intended landing spot—the front stoop— she collided into the roof with a loud whack instead.
“Well, that was certainly graceful. So much for Charm and Dignity Class 101.” Muttering to herself, she slid to the edge, floated down, and peered through the window.
Tom knelt at the altar but peered about the church with a puzzled expression. He must have heard the thump when she hit the roof. Sarah reminded herself that she could sometimes be heard even if she wasn’t seen. She watched as the human bowed his head once more in prayer.
Tom was a good-looking man. His thick hair and mustache sported the same rich brown color. Broad shoulders complemented a strong body build and well-toned arm muscles. His large hands, folded in prayer, looked powerful. She knew from her few studies about him that he had played football in college. Even though he knelt, she could tell he was taller than she, but then, Sarah was short as angels go. She couldn’t see his eyes—they were closed, but her dossier said they were green. Probably the same color as his roomy sweater, worn over comfortable-looking tan slacks.
A little more information would have been nice, but she supposed the Superiors wanted to see how many details she could discover on her own.
Summoning her metamorphic ability, she passed through the wall of the church. She could transform into a human shape if necessary, but the Superiors had given strict instructions about that.
Settled comfortably on the back pew, Sarah studied her surroundings. The sanctuary, with its plain white walls, would hold perhaps one hundred people. Mahogany pews, cushioned in blue upholstery, went well with a darker blue carpet which enveloped the elevated altar. The runner traveled the center aisle, leaving dark, freshly varnished, planked floors on each side. A lemony fragrance lingered in the air, lending a pleasant aroma in the small building. It was a simple sanctuary—no stained glass, no excessive ornamentation—but generations of worshipers had kept the country church in pristine condition.
Sarah focused her attention on Tom. He was talking to the Father and she didn’t want to interrupt him, as the Father cherished these humans’ prayers. They drifted up as a sweet fragrance to Him.
Tom had asked for guidance in recent days, and wonder of wonders, the Father had sent her to help him, but he didn’t know his answer sat right behind him.




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Sarah at Christmas