Divine Hope by Jo O'Neil

  Chapter Five

  The Being of Light

  I didn’t have to wait long before A.M. yet again materialised out of thin air.

  ‘Are you fully proficient in counselling and mediating?’ he asked as he sat down where Archangel Raguel had been a few minutes beforehand.

  ‘Yes, it’s easy. If my back-up team, the Angels of Hope, get too ‘holier-than-thou’ I employ you Archangels. If that doesn’t work I read the scrolls and leave handouts, which I need to collect from administration. As a last resort God will administer the Divine Light.’

  ‘You are a good student, and as a reward God has heard and answered your request to go to your funeral.’

  ‘WHAT?! A.M., on reflection I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m going back to my life once I’ve finished my assignment. How can I go back to a body that has been cremated?’

  A.M. chose not to answer me. His silence made me feel very ill at ease (thinking about one’s chard body can have this effect), and with the realisation the Devil’s hand maybe at work creating a very clever heavenly illusion, I remembered the words of my old Sunday school teacher, Mrs. Thirkettle.

  After Betsy Lake had sworn on the bible that she’d seen a spirit floating down the hallway of the cottage she and her family were holidaying in, Mrs. Thirkettle had told our young eager ears one of the great spiritual laws of God’s Universe. The law stipulates if a being appears and its origin is uncertain, it must answer truthfully if challenged three times in the name of God.

  With immense trepidation I looked A.M. in the eyes and said in as strong a voice as I could muster, ‘In the name of God and all that is holy, are you a being of light?’

  A bright light illuminated the snow drop fern tree and shell covered wall behind A.M. as he answered, ‘Yes,’ bringing a sense of utopia to my sinister fears.

  With tears in my eyes and a feeling in my heart that desperately hoped A.M. was telling the truth, again I posed the question, and to my relief the answer was the same. As I hesitated on the brink of the third and final time I would ask A.M., I wondered what I would do if the outcome wasn’t favouarble.

  Mrs. Thirkettle hadn’t enlightened us with this information. All because Patsy Mulligan had run terrified from her seat, screaming so loud the stain glass windows actually shook.

  I took a deep breath and began, holding my voice as steady as I could manage given I was shaking all over.

  A.M.’s welcome answer brought me to my knees in a flood of tears, as the unexplained light that had appeared with his first reply magnified in both brilliance and magnitude.

  As I allowed the light to penetrate me, I lifted my bowed head to meet A.M.’s eyes as I said, ‘I’m sorry, A.M. I’m just confused, and I’m scared at the thought of my body being barbequed.’

  He knelt down to me before ever so tenderly helping me back to the sea creature chair.

  When I was settled he reassured me, ‘I know it seems complicated now, Serena, but I promise you it is not. God will take care of the finer details so you do not need to worry. Worry is underpinned by fear, and fear is the most destructive emotion known to the human race. Fear is at the other end of the spectrum to love. You cannot get any further away from love than fear. Fill your heart and soul with love, and trust in God who incidentally would like to see you again before we head off.’

  ‘He would! Wait, you said “before we head off.” Does that mean you’re coming with me?’ I asked with a mix of excitement and relief.

  ‘I am. To shape-shift into orb form takes some practice. God wants you to have perfected our preferred way of travel before you set off on your mission, so I am going to help you.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so pleased you’re accompanying me, A.M. You see now you’ve pacified me that frying my body will not prevent me from returning to my life once my assignment is complete, I find I’m quite nervous, as one’s funeral is the ultimate party when one finds out if one is the popular girl one tries so hard to be.’ I paused and thought before adding, ‘It’s a real shame no one will see the gown I’m wearing though. God’s tailor certainly knows how to manipulate fabric. I’ve never seen such a beautifully crafted outfit, and believe me on my salary I can afford to shop in the most prestigious fashion houses.’

  ‘Serena, do not let such inconsequential events bother you.’

  ‘A.M., my funeral is far from “inconsequential.”’

  ‘Serena, it is all an illusion.’

  ‘So that’s how God is pulling this off. Was it the same for Jesus - God elaborated a simple illusion?’

  ‘Serena, what you wear to your funeral is of no consequence, and who is or who is not at your funeral is definitely of no importance, because when you return to your earthy life, if you live with Divine Love in your heart, there will not be a chapel large enough to accommodate the congregation who will wish to mourn your passing once it is your time to cross over. So please just view this first funeral of yours as a practice for the real thing which will be many years’ to come,’ A.M. said without any sign of frustration.

  ‘Truly, I’m going to live to see old age? Is that what Archangel Azrael told you? He should know, don’t you think?’

  Ignoring my question, A.M. continued, ‘All the Archangels have a distinctive colour. As you may have guessed from my cloak, mine is royal purple with a hint of blue.’

  ‘I’m guessing Archangel Raphael’s is green, as a green light embraced me when Archangel Raphael spoke to me at my life review?’

  ‘Yes, that is right. Archangel Raphael has been blessed with the gift of healing. When he senses a soul is vulnerable he extends his loving aura. On most occasions his healing light flames the Divine Light within, so the soul can continue the healing process.’

  ‘Archangel Raguel not only wore pale blue, but he released a gas like substance exactly the same shade. On that basis, I would say with certainty that Archangel Raguel’s colour is pale blue,’ I surmised.

  ‘Right again. When an Archangel orbs, the sphere glows the colour of the Archangel. So my orb will radiate predominately purple, Archangel Raphael’s orb will be bright emerald, and Archangel Raguel’s orb is indeed the colour of the matter you saw in his energy field. For you, Serena, God has chosen red.’

  ‘RED! I hate red,’ I said childishly.

  ‘Love cannot come from “hate”, Serena.’

  ‘Forgive me, A.M., but that’s a contradiction of terms if I ever heard one.’

  ‘Serena, you may not have realised that God has a very good sense of humour. Goodness knows He should since God created humour at the dawn of time. He knows you are not fond of red, and He found your “Devil-ettes” depiction of the Devil’s ‘angels’ most amusing indeed. On a more serious note, God is giving you a blessing.’

  ‘Really! How do you figure that? It’s bad enough that red disagrees with my hair. It also emphasises my nose’s tendency to colour which invites Rudolph jokes. Wait a minute! How does God know about “Devil-ettes”? That was a private comment I made in my head to myself, and it was most certainly not meant to be shared with anyone else, including God,’ I said brusquely.

  ‘If you run from something, it will almost undoubtedly chase you. However, if you face your demons they can no longer hound you. Although red is the Devil’s preferred choice of colour, God does not consider it bad and He wishes you to feel the same. He is confident once you have seen the magnificence of your orb you will embrace the colour red.’

  ‘It won’t just be my orb though, will it? I’m going to be forced to wear a red cloak, and then I’m leaving myself open to ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ jokes. Who’s going to take me seriously if all they can picture is Little Red Riding Hood or Mrs. Claus?’ I sulked.

  ‘I think once you have seen the majestic red cloak God has personally asked his tailor to style for you, you will be impressed, just as you are in awe of your gown. Now, if you are ready God is waiting to present your cloak and grant you the ability to orb.’


  ‘A.M., first I want to know if God listens to all the private conversations I have with myself?’ I asked haughtily.

  ‘Who do you think gives you the words? Serena, you always know what you need to say, precisely when you need to say it, courtesy of God, because He loves you enough to listen to you. You may object to my statement as you do not always hear God, even though you have prayed for direction. Stop and consciously listen to God and you will be awakened to Divine guidance.’

  Even though I knew it was my own human failings presenting the emotion, I felt chastised by A.M. I wanted him to say he wasn’t chiding me. Instead, he encased me in his cloak and orbed us to God’s chambers.

  My feelings of inadequacy disappeared immediately with the thrill of my travel arrangements. I was just contemplating a world where mankind could orb and the many benefits orbing would bring, such as no more high fuel costs, when I became aware of the harp music I heard during my first audience with God. I had found it wearisome so had been extremely thankful it had been confined to God’s chambers. However, I realised as I progressed with my training the music had steadily began to seep back into my consciousness. I had to admit though; it was unmistakably more vocal when in God’s quarters.

  Strangely, it didn’t seem to bother me as much as it had. A.M. explained this was the purification I had been going through, and he told me Archangel Sandalphon, the Angel of Music who was responsible for orchestrating the symphony, had toned down my receptors as soon as he was aware I found his composition tiresome. I was concerned I may have offended Archangel Sandalphon, but A.M. assured me Archangels didn’t take umbrage.

  As I walked across God’s throne room, rays of golden sunlight shone down from the ether illuminating the white clouds which were floating effortlessly in the gentle breeze I could feel. There was no need for thermostatic controlled air conditioning in God’s kingdom, as judging by my comfort, the breeze kept the air at the perfect temperature for each individual.

  At points the cloud coverage was dense enough to completely hide the lower part of my form. Even though I knew better, from the moment my soul had been wrenched from my physical body, my entire experience in heaven had been so surreal it seemed at that moment more feasible I had been propelled to a film set where the technician had gone overboard with the fog machine.

  God was seated on His throne between A.M. and, I guessed, Archangel Sandalphon, who orchestrated Adagio for Strings by Samuel Barber so Divinely, for the first time ever my heart was touched by music.

  ‘Barber’s Divine life purpose was to compose My soul cleansing music,’ God addressed me.

  I smiled just before I proclaimed, ‘I was a little preoccupied last time we met so I didn’t really comprehend the absurdity of the fact that You look exactly as I expected You to.’

  He chuckled before answering, ‘I have no apparent form for I AM all that is, all that has ever been before, and all that will ever be. To connect wisely with your humanised soul I manifest in the form that is most acceptable to you. You, Serena Olivia Unity Lewis, have always thought I resemble Old Father Time; so here I sit before you akin to My old friend.’

  ‘So You don’t really look like Old Father Time?’ I said disappointed.

  ‘Dear Serena, I AM known as ‘I AM’ as I AM everywhere. However, this is not to be confused with the nickname A.M. you have chosen for Archangel Michael. I AM the clock you set to rise each morning. I AM the taxi you use on rainy days’ to keep you protected from My elements. I AM the words you wield in the court room to propel your case. I AM the laughter, the tears, and the love you share with all who are precious to you. If ‘Mischief’ Myers, the nickname you have affectionately given your friend Molly, were here, she would see Me as a cross between Father Christmas and Merlin. I AM neither, but at the same time I AM both.’

  ‘I see . . . I think.’

  ‘My throne is only elaborately decorated with gold as that is what you wish to see. I always grant wishes, Serena. When mankind produces evidence opposing this notion, it is not because I have forsaken My children. On the contrary, I honour their hope, but if that hope is entangled with desperation, it is underpinned by fear.’

  ‘Oh, I know this. Archangel Michael enlightened me. “Fear is the most destructive emotion known to the human race. Fear is at the other end of the spectrum to love. You cannot get any further away from love than fear,”’ I proudly recited.

  ‘Archangel Michael speaks the truth. Fear is most destructive.’

  ‘I’m puzzled, God. If “fear is most destructive” then why in heavens name did You create it? Surely, life would be happier if “fear” was not an option?’

  ‘I created fear as the opposite end of the spectrum to love. Simply put; to define small one has to understand big. To say something is cold one has to know hot. Opposites exist to give clarity. One can love and fear at the same time, but to truly love, fear can have no part.

  ‘Often one does not forgive for fear of endorsing the unforgivable. Archangel Raziel mentored you well on the topic of forgiveness, and I AM immensely proud of you, My beautiful Child, for implementing these teachings. You honour Me as you are very near to completing your honorary angelic status. When you return from your funeral, I AM confident you will be ready. Until then, for your protection I give you your cloak of Divine armour,’ God said as he held up an impressive magenta cape.

  ‘Magenta? Archangel Michael said it was red. Magenta is far more acceptable than red,’ I squealed.

  ‘Yes, magenta is the colour I have chosen for you, sweet Serena. I do not believe you will be disappointed, for this shade of magenta has been designed by Me for you as a token of My love, and Archangel Jophiel, My Angel of Beauty, added the finishing touches.

  ‘I AM certain you find this magnificent shade far more acceptable than the colour it derives from: red. However, I would ask you not to forget; red is a member of the purple family and purple is the colour of royalty. Furthermore, I would recommend that you respect the burning colour of: the awe-inspiring sunset; the fire that gives warmth, and for so many centuries light, that was until My child Thomas Edison gave humanity the electric light bulb. For the primary colour red is one of three colours that transforms your world from black and white. Red is mixed with blue to make violet, but equal percentages of the two creates the stunning colour that will be draped over your shoulders, and will light your sphere as you travel in My name.

  ‘Now, go forth with Archangel Michael with a loving, forgiving, and fearless heart, and travel regally in your Divinely magenta orb.’

  I stepped hesitantly forward so that God could present my robe, as when I dared to think of the road that lay ahead of me, excitement in an equivalent amount to dread cursed through my veins. When He wrapped the material around me, which was softer than velvet, a ray of light beamed down, just as one would expect to see on the star of a West End show. I basked in its brilliance, and just as I thought I couldn’t feel more loved, an angelic choir appeared and filled heaven with their enchanted holy sound.

  When the choir finished, God addressed me once more in a loving tone, the like I had never heard before. ‘Serena, please know no matter what you think and feel for Me, I will always love you as any loving parent would.’

  Later at my funeral I was to discover the significance of God’s departing words.