Love in the WINGS (10 page)

She wandered back to her desk, but her mind would not be corralled. What was Corbin doing in there with David? He'd looked as if he were being prodded along with an invisible hot poker, and still couldn't quite fall into formation.

Cover him in wings of prayer.

She dropped the pen in her hand, totally shocked to see she'd been doodling on her desk blotter…Corbin's name. Inside a large wing.

Her heartbeat raced as if on wings of its own. “Lord?” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off the piece of innocent-looking “art” she'd accomplished without knowing she was doing so. “What's—?”

Wrap them both in wings of prayer.

Aria locked the office and headed for the prayer room off the sanctuary. Her WINGS hour had arrived a little early today.

 

 

 

 

11

 

Corbin couldn't knock with a hot mug in each hand. Good thing the door wasn't actually closed, though he did wonder about that. Given the fact it was even partially closed, David might have meant to shut out the world today.

He nudged it with the toe of his shoe and walked in—uninvited, and uncomfortable with the situation. Normally, he wouldn't have considered intruding on anyone who'd all but hung out a “No Trespassing” sign.

Pastor David sat behind his desk, but he wasn't really there. Corbin paused just inside the room. A chill raced down his spine, and a worried frown tugged his eyebrows toward each other.

“David?” He spoke quietly, hoping not to startle the guy.

Dark shadows played across the pastor's normally bright and fun-filled eyes. His gaze was fixed on the opposite wall, his lips set in a tight line. New grooves bracketed his mouth and cut twin furrows above his nose.

Corbin swallowed hard. Had he thought earlier that David had aged a decade? Make that two of them. The pastor appeared unaware of Corbin's presence, despite his greeting and the aroma of the coffee he'd brought with him.

Well, time to try another tactic.

“Good morning!” He raised his voice and marched across the floor to set David's mug on the desk. “Thought maybe you could use a little go juice.”

David's gaze traveled in slow, halting motion from his intense study of the wall to the steaming cup on his desk blotter, and then edged upward to Corbin's face. Still he said nothing, and a shiver of dread slithered through Corbin's soul.

The minister had no idea who he was, or why he was standing there looking like a fool.

He sent up a desperate plea for guidance…and then gasped as the air around him did something strange. It fluttered a bit, and the same angel who'd visited his cottage the night before appeared beside him.

Corbin's breath came in short gasps, until the beautiful creature touched a finger to his heart. “Be at peace, Corbin Bishop. You asked for guidance. I am Guidance.”

Suddenly calm, Corbin found that he could speak—and without a tremble to his voice. “Thank you.” He tilted his head toward David, who still stared in his direction, even though Corbin was certain he wasn't seeing him. “Please…how can I help Pastor David?”

Guidance turned his head toward the man behind the desk. Sadness filled his eyes, and he shook his head. “David must choose to see what he refuses to see.”

Corbin frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I've been with you for a long time, Corbin Bishop, guiding your steps, leading you in many small ways toward this day, this moment in your life. But you didn't see me until last night.”

“That's true, but I didn't believe you existed.” Heat crawled up his neck with the admission. “David does.”

“Yes.” The angel nodded. “He does believe. But he doesn't want to see.”

Corbin huffed out a frustrated breath. “I don't understand, but I don't suppose I need to. I just want to know how to help him.”

The angel smiled. “You already know, Corbin. Obey.”

Corbin's heart sank. God just never gave up, did He? He rolled his eyes and rounded the desk to kneel beside his pastor and friend. One last look at Guidance, who nodded his encouragement…a quick, silent prayer that he was doing “it” right…and then he opened his mouth.

For about five seconds—long enough for Corbin's heart to sink, and for his brain to laugh out loud—nothing happened.
Serves me right. I can't believe I even hoped
—

“The spirit of Elijah rests upon Elisha.” The words were out of his mouth without having taken the usual route through his brain. He'd had no idea he was going to speak, much less say something like that.

David slowly turned to face Corbin. Blinked twice. And the sludgy cloud over his eyes dissipated.

“Corbin?”

So relieved he wasn't sure how to act, he grinned and reached out to place a hand on David's shoulder. “Yep. It's me.”

The other man did not offer an answering smile. “What did you just say to me?”

Corbin bit his lip. He'd blown it. Said something wrong.
Lord, please help me.
I don't want to do any harm
….

“Corbin!” David's voice sharpened. “What did you say?”

“I, uhm…” He paused and ran his tongue over dry lips. “I think I said ‘the spirit of Elijah rests upon Elisha.'”

To his horror, David's eyes filled with moisture that ran over, spilled down his face and dripped off his chin. A hoarse sob shook his frame, and he reached for Corbin and squeezed his shoulders hard.

Then he sat back and looked directly at Guidance, who stood watching in silence.

“I see you.” His pastor's broken voice squeezed Corbin's heart in a painful grip.

“At last!” The angel smiled, easing the pain. The emotional see-saw in the room made Corbin a little dizzy, but something else—something wonderful also swelled within his chest. He had obeyed God's urging, and now he could see he'd done the right thing. God had come through and filled his mouth with what were obviously the words Pastor David needed to hear. Never before had he experienced such tremendous joy.

Or such an ache in his knees. The hard vinyl chair mat definitely was not designed for praying. He stood, ignoring the discomfort, completely caught up in the conversation between Pastor David and Guidance.

“Yes.” David pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and swiped at his wet face, then blew his nose. “At last.”

Corbin closed his eyes to keep from rolling them. Seriously? David was blowing his nose in the presence of
an angel
?

A low, musical chuckle forced him to open his eyes, if only out of curiosity. Guidance watched, his golden eyes alight. “You still don't quite understand, do you, Corbin Bishop? We are around you every moment of every day. Your Father never for an instant leaves His children unguarded.”

Warmth crept up his neck yet again. “What you're saying is that you've seen me blow my nose, too.”

David grinned and Corbin groaned. The twinkle in the pastor's eyes said he would find a way to use this moment at a later date—and no doubt at the most inopportune time for Corbin.

“I've seen that…” The angel's lips still curved upward. “And worse.”

Corbin shook his head. An angel with a sense of humor. Very funny.

To his immense relief, David sobered almost immediately. He waved Corbin into a chair and turned back toward Guidance. “I'm sorry I had such a hard time accepting that I was actually seeing…angels.” His voice broke. “I've always believed you were real, and I know Uncle Andy saw your—” He paused, frowning a little. “Brothers? Sisters? I'm sorry, I—I just don't know enough.”

“It is not of importance,” Guidance said.

“Well, the point is, I believed you were real. I believed in Uncle Andy. But I'm not
him.”
His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “I loved my uncle like a father, but I cannot
be
Andrew Hart. I don't have it in me!”

Guidance tilted his head to the side, studying the pastor. “Andrew was Andrew—that's who God created him to be. But know this, David Myers, and never doubt its truth…the Father created you to be David.”

David narrowed his eyes, clearly puzzled. “But—”

The angel held up a hand. “God has chosen you to follow in Andrew Hart's footsteps. But you'll do so in a way that fits the man you are—not the man your uncle is.”

Praying silently, Corbin watched his friend process the information.

Finally, David nodded. “I think I understand.”

“Good. It is important. The Father does not expect you to change who you are to ‘fit' the gift. He has molded the gift to fit you.”

David smiled, easing the tension Corbin hadn't even known he was experiencing. His fisted hands relaxed, and he released a long-held breath.

“I will do my best to be worthy,” the minister said. “Thank you, Guidance.”

“You are welcome, David Myers.” Guidance smiled. “One more thing…you will find you are not alone in conversing with my fellow messengers.”

David frowned and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. “I don't understand.”

“The Father knows you are busy with your flock, and that responsibility must be first for you. The sheep must be a shepherd's first priority. Someone else at Heart's Haven shares your gift. She has for some time but, like you, she was not fully open to using it until very recently. Perhaps you should spend some time with the friend of your uncle's wife.”

Leaving David to think about his words, the angel then turned to Corbin. “And you, Corbin Bishop. I must bid you farewell.”

“I won't see you again, will I?”

Guidance smiled and shook his head. “You have many gifts, but God has not called you to interact with me or others like me. Much like Thomas, the disciple of Jesus, you needed to see to believe. And you have a praying friend who very much needed you to believe.” His perfect lips twitched further upward. For just the barest flash of a second, Corbin wondered if Guidance was playing a subtle matchmaking game. “So the Father allowed you to see me when you prayed last night. Today, David needed to hear a message I could not deliver because he refused to see me. Temporarily opening your eyes to our existence benefitted earth and Heaven, too.”

Corbin smiled and shook his head. “Well, it's been an experience, but I'm very glad that gift is pastor's, not mine.”

He was once again treated to the angel's soft, low laughter. “Farewell then, Corbin Bishop.” He turned to David. “And you, David, I will see again soon.”

David stood and faced the angel. For a moment—obviously overcome with emotion—he said not a word. But then his throat contracted as he swallowed. At last, he nodded. “And I will see you,” he said.

Corbin smiled, catching the mild double entendre in the pastor's words. He reached over to squeeze the older man's shoulder, and then turned to say good-bye to Guidance, but the angel was gone.

Or…perhaps not. Maybe, Corbin thought, he's standing there watching me even now.

He picked up his and David's mugs of coffee gone cold. “I'll zap this and bring it right back.”

“Thank you.” The minister met his gaze and held it. “For…everything.”

“You're welcome for everything.” Corbin smiled and hurried to the door.

But he couldn't help casting one last look at the spot where Guidance had stood. How could such a powerful presence have so recently stood in that place and yet left no trace of himself behind?

Shaking his head, he turned and headed for the coffee station, grinning as he rounded the corner.

He might never blow his nose again.

 

 

 

 

12

 

Aria's prayer session turned out less solitary than she'd expected. She should have known someone would be in the prayer room. WINGS was still in the midst of a round-the-clock prayer effort, after all. She'd been so startled, so driven by the sudden unction to pray that she hadn't thought about it.

She was glad to see Pia, whose swollen eyes and pink nose clearly bespoke her mental and emotional state—especially to Aria, who was already in tears when she entered the room.

Pia blotted her eyes with a tissue, and then reached for Aria's hands. “How is he?”

The question confused her, but only for a moment. “David? I haven't seen him. He was closeted in his office when I got here—and his door was pulled to, which isn't like him at all. I didn't feel comfortable interrupting him even to deliver his morning coffee.”

“That doesn't surprise me.” Pia hitched a shaky breath and shook her head. “He left home this morning looking like death. He slept in his clothes last night, and when I suggested he change this morning, he didn't respond. To be honest, I don't think he heard me—or even really knew I was there.” Pia's voice broke and she sniffled into a tissue. “Something is seriously wrong.”

Aria bit down on her lip, frowning. “I agree. Corbin's acting strange today, as well. He disappeared into David's office just before I came here—without knocking, and looking like someone had a hot poker to his back.”

Pia reached for her hands. “Well, you're here, and it's not even your prayer hour, so I'm assuming you're burdened for them both as much as I am. Let's pray.”

Twenty minutes later, both women gasped and looked upward. From the skylight high overhead, a blast of bright sunshine flooded the room, bringing with it a beautiful sense of peace…and a soft flutter of the air that seemed to usher in something holy. Warmth surrounded Aria's shoulders, along with a gentle, squeezing pressure. A hug from Heaven that lifted the heavy burden from her heart and filled it instead with a joy so intense she could not contain the laughter that spilled from her lips.

She clapped a hand over her mouth, thinking it wrong, somehow, to laugh with such abandon in a prayer room. Tossing a guilty glance toward Pia, she found the pastor's wife wearing a grin as wide as her own.