Maggie
stared at the clock on her bedside table. Its luminous, green figures
clicked up at 2 AM. She closed her eyes and turned over. It was no good.
She wasn’t going to sleep tonight. She did a check of her body’s energy
field, but all seemed well. That wasn’t the problem then. She was
driving to Lyme Regis in the morning, another town, another opportunity
to read for the locals, and share her special form of magic and healing.
She rubbed her eyes and yawned. It wasn’t even a full moon, or eclipse
energy, that had disturbed her peaceful slumber. Maybe a cup of cocoa,
she thought, sitting up and sliding her legs out of the bed and onto the
rug on the wooden floor. She hurried to the bathroom, relieved her
bladder and then washed her face and hands, the cool water quite
pleasant after the warmth of her bed. Looking in the mirror she saw her
ruby-red hair stood out all around her pale face. Her colouring showed
her Celtic origins. At five foot nine, she was tall with a heavier build
than was fashionable, looking less like a model and more like a warrior
without the muscles. Lightly clasping the handrail, she walked down the
stairs. Maggie resembled an almost ghostly figure in her blue pyjamas
that were covered in grey sloths. She had never seen a sloth up close,
but these were comical and cute, and she thought described her rather
well. As she wandered into the kitchen, a large yawn took over her body,
and as she opened her eyes she almost fell over. The light was so
bright in the room. It was as though forty spotlights were shining in
the kitchen, aimed at her. She covered her eyes, breathed in deeply and
slowly, and then opened them.
The bright lights weren’t
spotlights, they were the combined energies of many large, angelic
beings, wearing their finest regalia. She scanned the kitchen looking
for an angel she knew. Leaning against the back door was Archangel
Michael. He was dressed for battle. No long, flowing, white robes, harps
playing, cherubs sweetly singing for him. He was encased from
top-to-toe in black, even his wings were camouflaged and held close to
his body. The planes of his face were sharply angled, and his
white-blonde hair cut close to his head. The main feature of his face
were his startling sky-blue eyes.
He raised his hand in salute
and said, “Hello, Maggie, my dear. How are you?” It was some months
since Maggie had worked with Archangel Michael in Angel Street. She gave
him a brief nod, and then turned to grab milk from the fridge, a small
milk saucepan for the stove, and began measuring out the milk to heat.
“Well, that wasn’t a very warm welcome, Michael, are you going to introduce us?” The tallest angel smirked.
Maggie
looked at the fifteen-foot-tall angel. He, unlike the others in the
room, carried a sword across his back. So, you’re a warrior, even though
your demeanour is gentle, thought Maggie. In fact, while Michael was
all honed muscle and warrior black, this angel was dressed more
casually. He looked a bit like a medieval knight, without the armour,
dressed in dark grey leggings and a leather-looking tabard. His face was
open. Laughter lines etched around his bright green eyes and unruly
light brown curls graced his head.
“Maggie, this giant here is
Archangel Sandalphon. Don’t think his height makes him stronger or more
important though,” he said. “Sandalphon … Maggie.” And with that
Archangel Michael moved back to lean on the door again.
“Maggie, it’s a pleasure to meet you officially. I say officially
because you call my name with every note you play on the cello. It’s
always a delight to hear a human soul make music; but let’s talk more of
that later. We hope you won’t mind helping us.
Michael assures
us” – his arms spread wide to include all the other angels – “you’re the
right human to ask for help with a little problem we have. Is your
cocoa ready? How about you pour, and I’ll introduce you to everyone
here, and we can begin?
Maggie lifted the milk saucepan from
the stove top just in time as the milky bubbles rose to the top. She
added it to the cocoa powder, honey, and cinnamon, stirring the liquid
in her mug to remove any lumps. Once that was done, she placed the
saucepanin the sink, turned on the tap and allowed the water to fill the
saucepan to help release the boiled milk from the shiny metal, and then
went to sit down at the wooden table. The angels moved en-masse and
rearranged themselves, with Sandalphon in the centre and Archangel
Michael leaning on the back door again.
“So firstly, we are all
Archangels, some of our names you’ll recognise, others may be new to
you. My twin, Metatron, you may have heard of, but he is busy with other
things, so he won’t be here for this adventure. Along with Gabriel and
Raphael” – he pointed his hand to each in turn – “but you may not have
heard of these. This is Tzadkiel, Haniel, Azreal and Israfel, and of
course you already know Michael.” He grinned.
As Sandalphon
mentioned their names, they smiled in welcome or lifted their hands and
turned. It was a lot for Maggie to take in, especially at 2 AM in the
morning.
“Don’t worry about that, you don’t know them yet. Over
time, they will explain what they’re about. But suffice to say, that
each of us, and many others that are not here, have special tasks. We
are like team leaders for groups of angels that interact with humans,
and this has always been our overarching role since the beginning of
Earth. However, humans were always expected to live on Earth, and we
were tasked with being your companions, helpers, and guides. As you have
probably learned from Michael, there are special places on the Earth’s
grid that we look after. And one of these is a pilgrim route called The
Archangels’ Way. This journey from Brentor to Chagford, like all
pilgrimages, is a journey of self-discovery for the pilgrim. For many
hundreds of years, The Way was hidden from all but a few pilgrims, but
now there is more of an opening in human thinking, and more humans are
now taking the road of the pilgrim, in accordance with the Great Plan.
We are overseeing this realignment of The Way for humans of this present
time, and we are there to help them work with the internal patterning
and making significant shifts in the spiritual and emotional
understanding of themselves and their journey currently.” He came up for
breath.
“How does that require me?” asked Maggie, sipping her cocoa.
“Before I answer that question, Maggie, I need to make you aware of
more information, is that ok?” he asked. Maggie nodded. “Have you heard
of the seven deadly sins and the seven heavenly virtues?”
“Do
you mean those spoken of in the Bible, greed, lust, sloth?” Maggie
looked at her pyjamas covered with sloths. “And others, right? I’m not
sure of the full list, not being a Sunday school participant,” she said.
A grin broke out across the faces of the Archangels, and it
was as though all the lights of the world had been filtered to their
smiles, bringing an unnatural bright glow to their faces. Maggie sat
back in her chair as she surveyed them. She looked at each face so
different from the other and yet, energetically linked. Then she looked
across to Archangel Michael, who was not smiling but was simply raising
his eyebrows at the scene.
Sandalphon continued. “Each soul
plays their way through the vices and virtues in their many incarnations
of life, until they have the fullest understanding of their own
humanity, and that of others. This understanding enables compassion and
love for others and opens a soul to their life mission. The idea of the
pilgrimage is that the pilgrim grows in godliness and, for many
religious requirements,perfection, and rebirth. The idea of pilgrimage
is also found in indigenous cultures as well. In fact, all human
societies are aware of the need for time out from the material way of
life, and renewal of the spirit of each person as they reconnect to
nature and Source. What we’ve been seeing over recent times, is the
knowledge of the way, the truth … and I use that word advisedly.” He
paused.
“Because there is no absolute truth, only the truth
through an individual soul’s experience. Or a collective truth that is
held by a group of people?” Maggie pondered.
“Yes, exactly!”
Sandalphon nodded his head, “When each soul has aligned with their own
truth, the human collective will be ‘The Truth’, in the acceptance of
everyone’s truth being valid … and together they will be the whole
truth. Of course, as we stand now, we are a long way from that truth,
but The Archangels’ Way being open to more humans is the path forward to
that. Currently, it’s being seen as more of a walker’s exercise than a
spiritual one. This lack of understanding is either because they don’t
have a religious understanding or are asleep to their soul’s journey. It
means The Archangels’ Way is open to more negative energies. These
walks are often on energy ley lines, or power points, if you like, and
so attract vast amounts of energy, I believe Michael has already
mentioned to you the significance of place names to us, and our need to
protect our namesakes?”
“Yes. We worked on Angel Street earlier in the year.”
“So this would not be unfamiliar to you, then. In The Archangels’ Way,
we have many different energies and times across many dimensions
converging in this centre. As we work to upgrade the
energies of
The Archangels’ Way and rebalance the pilgrims who come to the area
over the next three months, we would like you to help us ground in that
energy and be a conduit for the people, and us. Will you help us?”
She looked at the Archangels, who appeared to be holding their breath as they waited for her reply.
“I was leaving for Lyme Regis this morning.” Maggie looked at the clock again at 2:45AM.
“We
are aware of that, and all we would ask is you spare us three months
and then you can go to Lyme Regis. We would like you to stay in
Belstone, a village on Dartmoor National Park, and part of The
Archangels’ Way route. There is a coffee shop and guesthouse you can
stay at, and you will do your usual work as a tarot reader and angel
business coach. Along with the work we require.”
Seven pairs of
eyes, silently pleading with all the pull of kittens or puppy dogs.
Maggie knew when she was beaten. She sighed. “Okay!”
And a
chorus of hallelujahs, whoops, and a chorus line from a West End show
followed, as the angels celebrated with high kicks in a song and dance
finale routine. Michael smiled where he stood, his eyes twinkling back
at her, watching the antics of his brothers and sisters and said,
“Enough you lot! You’ve got things to do, and Maggie needs some more
sleep.”
“We can answer more of your questions on the road to
Belstone,” Sandalphon said. And as though he’d snapped his fingers and
switched off the lights, the archangels left en-masse, leaving the
kitchen in the early morning gloom.
Michael moved to Maggie. “Thank you, Maggie, for agreeing. I wasn’t sure you would agree to work with us again.”
“What’s three months, Michael? A blink of an eye, right?” Maggie smiled, stood up and put her mug in the sink to wash.
“Get some sleep, Maggie. Sweet dreams.” Michael saluted, turned, and disappeared.
Maggie climbed the stairs to her bed and yawned. Time for sleep, she thought. Everything else would come soon enough.
