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    The Assignment: Do Angels Dream of Greatness?
    The Assignment: Do Angels Dream of Greatness?
    The Assignment: Do Angels Dream of Greatness?
    Ebook78 pages1 hour

    The Assignment: Do Angels Dream of Greatness?

    By Dennis Stevenson

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    About this ebook

    The assignment was beyond him, or was it?

    Amariel returned to the Angellic Dispatch center ready for a new assignment.  He dreaded another long term, boing task that had no obvious value.

    He never expected the Dispactch Cherub to offer him a choice between two assignments.

    One he knew he could do well.  The other was technically beyond his level.

    The choice would teach him more than he expected about himself and the God that he served.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDennis Stevenson
    Release dateApr 27, 2019
    ISBN9781393068280
    The Assignment: Do Angels Dream of Greatness?

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      Book preview

      The Assignment - Dennis Stevenson

      ONE

      Amariel stepped into the Angelic Dispatch Center with a sigh. A smile lifted his lips.  Soft light illuminated the space, reflecting gently off the white walls and floor.  The ceiling, well, nobody looked at the ceiling. It was just there and gave the impression of clouds.

      As much as any place, it felt like home. And it was full of angels.

      Comfortable chairs and sofas scattered around the room.  Most of them were occupied by angels.  Some were chatting quietly, giving the room a comfortable buzz of conversation.  Others read books.  A few looked like they were sleeping - although that was just an impression.  Only humans slept.

      Right now, he wanted to talk to someone.  Anyone.  A stranger would be fine.  He didn’t know how long he would have before the next assignment sent him far away.  His assignments were always long, lonely and not very interesting.

      Hesitantly he began to walk between the seats.  Everyone seemed to be too preoccupied to notice him.  He loitered a moment near a cluster of chairs filled with angels talking in low voices and animated hands.  Not one glanced his way.  When they burst out laughing, he gave up and moved on.

      He felt small, insignificant, unimportant.  All these angels and no one seemed interested in him.  I’ll have to force the issue, he thought.  This made him feel queasy.  He didn’t want to be turned away.  That would be intolerable.

      Scanning the area around him, he found a large overstuffed cream-colored sofa.  On one end sat a female angel reading a book.  The other end of the sofa was open.  If he didn’t decide quickly, he’d miss his opportunity.

      He forced himself to walk over.

      Is this seat taken? he asked, tilting his head to indicated the empty cushion.

      She looked up at him, then followed his gesture to the empty half of the sofa.  When she looked back at him, she shook her head.

      I don’t think so.  No one has been there recently at least.

      Thanks, he said. 

      The cushions were soft and deep.  When he sat down, he sank in farther than he expected.  He tried to turn toward the angel next to him but found that he had to twist his body.  It felt like the sofa was gripping him, holding him in place.

      This is a very soft sofa, he said.  Using his arms he finally pushed up enough to shift his body so that he was able to look at her.

      She was looking at him, watching him struggle with the cushions.  She didn’t seem to struggle with her seat as he was doing.  Then again, she was wearing a white summer dress and it spread gracefully over the seat.  It could be hiding how deeply she had sunk into her half of the sofa.

      I think it’s comfortable, she answered.

      It’s soft, and I think that’s wonderful, Amariel said.  It’s been a long time since I had anything even remotely this nice to sit on.  As he spoke, he began to roll up the cuffs of his white oxford shirt.

      What department do you work in? She asked, closing the magazine and put it on her lap.

      Providence, he answered.

      I’m not familiar with that one, she replied. Shifting slightly to look directly at him she asked, What do you do in Providence?

      Most recently, I managed a spring.  She wrinkled her face in a way that told Amariel she didn’t understand.  You know, keeping it flowing.  Clearing blockages.  Ensuring the water came all the way to the surface.

      Why so much attention on a spring? The expression on her face encouraged him to keep talking.  She looked genuinely curious.  Despite the topic, Amariel smiled in response.

      It supplied the only water for several villages nearby, he answered. Without tending it certainly would have dried up. Any time the water slowed down the villages started fighting.

      Sounds like a good assignment.

      I wouldn’t go that far, he said. I spent sixty seasons on solo assignment managing that spring. It was dirty, tedious work broken up only by long periods of boredom.  He really didn’t want to think about - or talk about - that assignment.  It was a part-time amount of work, but he had been assigned full-time.  He’d never understood why and felt like leadership didn’t care much about him.

      Looks like you’ve been relieved now, she offered.

      Not exactly. Amariel gave a little laugh.  He didn’t find it funny, but sometimes laughing at it was the easiest thing. Some missionaries came and put in a well. Now there is plenty of water. The spring isn’t needed to keep the peace any longer. So I’ve been called back. The spring probably won’t last another season.

      Providence. I get it.  The hand of God's goodness.  She nodded as she spoke. He enjoyed watching the understanding sink in.

      What about you? He asked. What department are you in?

      Communications, she answered.

      Oh, no! He thought.  She’s an Archangel.  They were primarily responsible for delivering messages.

      Sorry ma’am, Amariel tried to sit up straighter in the soft cushions. I didn’t mean to pry.

      An Archangel had been in charge of his training in the very beginning.  The commander had been distant and aloof to the trainees.  If Amariel had learned anything, it was to respect his superior angel and treat them with deference.

      At ease, Angel, she replied gently, making a calming motion with her hand. I started asking the questions.

      He tried to find the mark of rank on

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