“She will be fine.” Archangel Michael spoke even as he materialized in the air. “Speak into her mind. Bid her peace. And then come.” He commanded four angels as he took a position in the air above the Indian Ocean, a mile from the shoreline of a peninsula on the southwestern coast of India. On the peninsula, lush, green palm trees stood a slight distance back from a beach dotted with huts on the tree line periphery. Palm trees dominated the peninsula and extended far into the mainland. A slight break in the trees, right near the coast line, revealed a grouping of pastel-colored buildings, a couple of which stood above the trees.

His words moved through the air faster than the speed of light to the angels to whom he spoke. The four—Majesty, Awe, Brilliant, and His Strength—were standing in a tight circle about a woman within this compound, who, to be so devotedly and ardently attended to by them, was clueless of their existence. They were glorious and magnificent, awesome to behold, if only the human eye could do so. Sadly, woefully, hers were not equipped to gaze upon such a sight. Her heart was turned inward and what she saw inside was a particularly dismal reality.

At the moment, though seeing outwardly, her attention was fixed on her internal reality—pain and frustration, self-hatred and despair, depression. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she mumbled nonsense about jumping. She stood on the roof of one of the pastel-colored buildings, the temple. She stood at the very edge. Listing forward. It was evident in her body that she wanted to jump. How she longed to jump! She leaned forward until she hung at an impossible diagonal, sure to tumble off if it were not for an objection.

“No, Maya…” Brilliant murmured quietly, more a breath than a sound. Yet, to be so quiet, immense power flowed forth from his words and arrested her. He stood in the air before her—commanding and glorious. Relaxed in his power. Brilliant was awesome to behold…they all were. His skin, his eyes, even his hair, shimmered with an iridescent brilliance. His tunic and pants hinted at all the colors in the light spectrum as the colors danced amongst themselves as if alive. His right arm was stretched forward, pointer finger barely touching her chest. Such a light touch from heaven was all that was needed to keep her from careening over. So, instead she hung there. Even as he kept her from tumbling over, he reached forward and tenderly stroked her cheek with his left hand—his hand engulfing her entire face. “Ah, loved of God,” he sighed and whispered in the heavenly language, “if only you knew how much He adores you…"

Of the four who surrounded her, Brilliant had been with her from before her birth. He was her guardian. Even when she had only existed as an impression in the Heart and Mind of God, he had been with her. From the moment the Lord had conceived her in His infinite Heart and Mind, before the beginning of time, he, Brilliant, had known his purpose given to him by the Lord—to protect and care for her, to ensure that she fulfilled her destiny. Her purpose, her destiny, and who she was, woefully brief and all-too-human, was intricately intertwined with him, an angel, a being almost eternal and certainly otherworldly. Who he was—a protector, a guardian, who lived for almost an eternity—was so bound up in her, a momentary, fallible vessel that it was impossible to separate who he was from his purpose in serving the Lord through her until the day she died and the Lord released him from his purpose in her and sent him to another, assigned him from before the beginning of time.

Another of the four, His Strength, stood to the right of Brilliant. He had been called upon to assist Brilliant in caring for her. He stepped forward and placed his hand on her head. He was so large…or she so small…that her entire head nestled in his palm. He ran his hand over her head and part way down her back, allowing it to rest at her shoulder blades. Strength, the nature of who he was, began to thrum through her.

His nature was his name. Huge and massive, his muscles corded and released beneath his pristine, white tunic and pants. He maintained his unimaginably powerful frame in perfectly controlled abeyance. His was power in a state one removed from actualization, always on the cusp of manifestation. Power tenuously poised to be unleashed. He could, and did, release that explosive power at a moment’s notice, always…solely…at God’s behest.

The other two, Majesty and Awe, completed the circle. Their swords were drawn, glinting silver and shooting off silvery-blue sparks from the skirmish in which they had just been engaged. Majesty and Awe looked around them. Nothing and no one—physical or spiritual—was about, aside from the four and the girl, Maya. Yet they knew the others…the evil ones…were nearby. Hiding. Far enough away not to be burned by the Lord’s Presence that constantly surrounded His angels, yet close enough to resume their taunting of the girl as soon as an opportunity presented itself. And an opportunity would do just that.

Majesty was bigger and brighter than the other three. Everything about him bespoke authority and power. He was massive and majestic, kingly and commanding. The other, Awe, was no less vibrant and massive; however, he willingly, joyfully, submitted his power. In his own right, Awe was simply awe-inspiring. Even at rest, everything about him stirred and glimmered with light; and when he moved it was as if an ethereal light show had commenced—light sparked and fired about him.

Brilliant spoke, a melodic sound rolling from his mouth, “Sit”—in a language, in a realm, to which most humans were not privy. Maya, although she did not hear in the physical, heard in the spiritual realm and acted in the physical. Awkwardly, she stumbled backward and plopped down on the cement roof. Surely she would have fallen had His Strength not been behind her, his hand bracing her shoulders.

Brilliant spread his massive hand over her chest, stepped closer to her and spoke, “Peace.” He blew into her face. Sparkling, glittering light flowed from his mouth and over her. As it touched her body it flowed into her.

The tears that had been streaming from her eyes, ceased in a rush of bewilderment because she no longer understood why she was so upset. She closed her eyes in meditation as an unusual peace settled thickly, swiftly, about her.

Majesty nodded to the others.  He and Awe sheathed their swords at once, as they, as a body, moved to Michael. In less than an instant, they were standing a mile from the peninsula, grinning at him. Majesty and Michael clasped in a bear hug.

“Majesty!” Michael barked, “Awe, Brilliant, His Strength! It’s always so good to see you!” He clasped the others in bear hugs, too. At the display of brotherly camaraderie, light shot out in different directions.

Everything about Michael bespoke his status in the Lord. Archangel. All of the angels were named after the nature that God had placed within them, a nature that they could not contain. Who they were and, more importantly, Who they served emanated from them. Of course, all of the angels were large and glorious. However, with Michael, there was simply more of everything. He was gigantic, without being cumbersome and bulky. He was beautiful, without a hint of weakness. He emanated pure masculinity. His muscles were alive of their own volition—rippling and flexing whether at rest or in action. His skin was a bronze hue that shimmered with a golden glow. His golden butterscotch hair seemed woven with gold and bronze thread that sparkled and glimmered. His face evinced a wisdom garnered throughout the ages and nurtured by constant attendance upon the Lord of the universe. Kindness and delight sparkled in his eyes. Ah! He was beauty and pure masculine power. Every aspect of him attested to his archangel status—clearly, God had outdone himself in creating His archangels.

Maya opened her eyes. An awareness dawned upon her that she faced the ocean (she had been so overwrought, she had not realized that she had been on the roof or that she had sat down facing the ocean. She definitely had not been cognizant of the fact that she had been standing on the edge of the roof, poised to jump off). She felt so at peace. Such a deep sense of well-being permeated her being.

She stared with rapt attention at the lightning in the sky, overwhelmed by the beautiful…odd…sight. Golden white flashes arced in front of her, yet there was not a cloud in the sky. Nor was there thunder. Nothing that spoke of a thunderstorm. Adding to the magnificent sight, the ocean roiled fiercely beneath the light. (The presence of the Lord’s angels stirred everything near them.) The glorious light show was reflected dazzlingly, flamboyantly, in the play of the waves.

“It must be you, Kali!” Maya murmured full of wonder. “How else is the water turbulent with no wind? How is there lightning with no clouds? Or thunder?” She alternated her gaze between staring at the sky and peering at the ocean. “Or light reflected like it is on the ocean without the moon present? How amazing is your display…Kali!” Little did she know it was the divine, living light that the Lord’s angels emitted from their bodies that caused the celestial light show.  It was the raw, uncontained power that they radiated—when not in the presence of humans, they did nothing to conceal their glorious light and power.

With Kali on her mind, she began to chant the mantra given to her by Cha Ma, “Omm…” Upon the power of the mantra, something dark and sinister stalked slowly up behind her.

“Majesty. Awe, Brilliant, His Strength. I believe you have served the Lord with Hachao, Salaa, and Bredano before?” Even as Michael spoke, three other angels materialized.

These three angels were slightly different from the others in nature and appearance. They were commanders of the warrior angels and fearsome to behold. Each was easily fifteen feet tall and looked to be a quarter ton (if angels actually had mass). As they moved, their muscles rippled under their golden-bronze tunics. Their muscles seemed to be living entities in and of themselves, pulsating and moving of their own accord—a quality that was had by some of the Lord’s angels, but was present in all the warrior angels. Their shoulder-length hair undulated and twisted as if there were a breeze, for even it was alive and eager for battle.

Michael spoke, “The Lord has called Hachao, Salaa, and Bredano to battle in the Maya situation—they will go back and forth between Maya and her parents, depending upon the Lord’s wishes.”

“Do they need to be briefed?” Majesty asked, nodding at the three in greeting.

“No,” Michael replied, “I briefed them earlier.”

“The Lord has been cultivating Maya’s destiny,” Hachao spoke up. His voice was melodic, like all of the angels, however it was deeper and sounded like a bow being expertly drawn across the strings of the bass. “She is willful and curious. Impetuous and brilliant. All gifts He placed in her when he fashioned her. She is also dissatisfied—which is Satan’s doing. The Lord has granted him great freedom in her life, permitting him to influence her, allowing him to drive her to where she is. Satan believes that he has full control over her. He’s confident he will ruin her and her parents and all of those attached to her.”

“Yes,” Michael nodded his head, his eyes grave, “The soul count…for heaven or for hell. How important and how so many humans never think of it. Each and every soul is of incalculable value. Each person priceless, who at the end of his or her life, will be either gifted with an eternity with the Lord in true love and joy or doomed to an eternity far from the Lord, far from all love and joy.” Michael paused and sighed, his eyes looking pained, “So quickly they grow so acclimated to their human life that they truly cannot fathom eternity, let alone, truly believe it exists. They cannot fathom being forever separated from the Lord, living in hatred, fear, pain, and destruction, perpetually straining for their hearts’ desires and never attaining them, forever burning inside with discontent, hatred, unrest, fear, and depression, every negative emotion conceivable with no respite, ever. Such a fate is much worse than ever the burning of the body that they imagine is so horrendous. Each one is precious and so, so valuable to the Lord…

“If only they knew that all the resources of heaven are mobilized to draw them to the Lord…are mobilized to take them away from hell. And yet,” Michael shook his head sadly, “so many choose being forever apart from God. Free will…ahhh, but I digress. Continue Hachao…”

“From what we understand,” Hachao said, “this girl…woman…Maya, has no clue the battle that is around her. She has been gifted with so much from the Lord—internal attributes and external successes—all enticements to Satan to draw her away. And he has. There she was at Harvard, standing upon a pinnacle of success for most any human, when he dropped his lure before her face.”

Salaa picked up, “Satan knew she could not resist. Of course, the Lord knew she could not resist. Given her nature, given all that she has been seeking and wanting, the discontent and unrest, Cha Ma was the perfect lure.”

Bredano nodded, “Humans are always searching for something to worship and always so eager to worship another human. It’s a wonder how so many humans are undeniably drawn to charismatic people, throw in some supernatural powers, and they can’t resist. They begin to see that person as a god… Basically, that is what happened with Maya and Cha Ma.”

Brilliant interjected, “So, she left everything behind and ran to India to be with Cha Ma. Although she tried, although all humans try, she couldn’t leave herself behind—her pain, hurt, and struggles. They have followed her here.”

“The demons have latched onto her pain,” Awe paused, shaking his head slowly which caused fiery sparks of light to shoot forth. “It did not help that she took a Kali mantra. Oh why, oh why did she do that?”

Brilliant chuckled, unexpectedly, “Leave it to Maya to go for the spiritual atomic bomb, to take a mantra of Chamunda Kali. The girl has no idea what she’s taken within herself and is activating by repeating it so often. If only she knew…”

His Strength interrupted, “There she is now…” He nodded toward the set of buildings. “Chamunda Kali.”

On the temple roof where Maya sat paced a macabre specter behind her. Perniciousness rolled out from it in waves. It was tall and gaunt and appeared vaguely feminine. Its skin was jet-black and hung as if from bones. They could see that she had her hungry, baleful eyes fixed on the girl, Maya. Every once in a while, those eyes would dart their way and then back to the girl. She…it…could not gaze upon the Lord’s angels for long—the Lord’s Presence surrounding them burned her, it burned all of the evil ones. They could hear her low, eerie growl of consuming desire. She was ravenous for the girl, but had every intention of toying with her before she killed her. All negative emotions—fear, despair, depression, hatred—fed her almost as well as death did.

“Chamunda is the head of one of the world’s principalities…the cult of Kali,” Bredano said, even as he kept his eyes trained on Chamunda. Something began to change in him and in his appearance as he looked upon the adversary the Lord had commanded him to confront. It was as though his body, his muscles, his skin, his hair, every part of his being began to gear up for battle. The same began to occur with Hachao and Salaa—their bodies automatically began revving up for battle. Clearly, they were created solely for warfare against Satan’s minions.

Michael looked Hachao, Salaa, and Bredano over and chuckled, humor in his eyes, “Easy now! Our time will come. But, first, we must allow everything to fall perfectly into place.”

As one, Hachao, Salaa, and Bredano looked up into the sky…at the Lord, for they could see Him in the heavens. No matter where one was in heaven, earth, or below, one could see the Lord—sitting exalted and glorious upon His throne…if, only if, one had eyes to see. As one, they took a deep breath, held it for a long moment, and exhaled. Upon the exhalation, they powered down and went to rest, even though their muscles continued to flex and release and their hair waved with subdued vigor. Even powered down, they were in a state of readiness for battle.

“For centuries, Chamunda Kali has held this area virtually unchallenged,” Michael spoke. “Granted, there have been pockets of those who’ve loved the Lord, but they’ve never dented her supremacy here. Now is the time for this principality to sustain a real blow. The Lord will destroy this ashram, this temple to Cha Ma,” Michael indicated to the cluster of buildings, “who we all know is simply controlled…possessed…by Chamunda Kali. He will destroy her hold over many people. He will certainly destroy her hold over Maya and will wrap it all up rather neatly. As He always does.”

“Ahh, there are the others…” Brilliance said as they all watched what unfolded on the roof of the temple.

At the prompting of Chamunda, several demons approached Maya. They natures were distorted by millennia separated from God. It was almost impossible to conceive that, once upon a time, they had been as glorious and lovely as the Lord’s angels, who stood a mile away from them. They were rendered all the more hideous and ghastly because they understood the reality of being forever separated from the Lord, separated from the One who was the source of all that was good and lovely and noble. Their natures disturbed the atmosphere—it was akin to supernatural fingernails sliding down a chalkboard.

They were deformed and perverted. Despair, shrunken and folded in upon himself, was of an ashy, dull brown hue. Depression, being the opportunist that he was, moved in close and wrapped his putrid arms around Maya. Fear slunk about in the background, fearful, as was his nature. All were bent on feeding off of the girl. Any negative emotion—fear, depression, despair, self-hatred—was powerful food for them.

Finally, Suicide and Death approached. Because their natures were to destroy the human vessel and feed off their kills, they were larger than the others. Death, in his “natural” form, which was still vastly perverted from what the Lord had created, looked similar to a rhinoceros beetle—jet-black with a shiny exoskeleton. Two growths protruded from the top of his head. However, he had the ability, like Satan and some of the more powerful evil angels, to morph into a human form. This “talent” was a vestigial quality from when they were angels of the Lord before the Rebellion.

Even as the evil ones crept close to the girl, they kept glancing at the Lord’s angels a mile away. The Presence of the Lord burned them. None of the lesser demons and imps dared show themselves. In fact, they were simply unable.

After ensuring that the evil ones were only going to taunt Maya and not try to infringe upon the boundaries set by the Lord (at this time, for they violated the boundaries often enough, spiritual opportunists that they were), Brilliant turned to Michael and queried, “How are her parents?”

Michael smiled, “They are doing very well, although they probably don’t feel as if they are. They are going through their testing and it is looking dark for them. Yet, they will stand strong. Mighty, Paul’s guardian, and Jovial, Marie’s guardian, are with them. The Lord has decreed the end from the beginning and all will be fine. All is fine. They must battle through and continue to pray for Maya.

“Marie’s health is declining due to the effects of Sickness, Illness, and Disease. Doctors believe the debilitating headaches, the spots and webbing, and the loss of vision are due to a brain tumor and have given her two to six months left to live. We know what the truth is. It is Satan’s plan to keep her so preoccupied with her own troubles that she will not spend time in prayer for Maya.

“The relationship between her and Paul is under attack, of course. For a house divided cannot stand. Satan knows this well and is trying to use it to his advantage. The enemy will continue to attack the bond between them because there is much power when they are in agreement and pray together. Definitely enough power to make sure Maya makes it home safe and sound. ”

“One can put a thousand to flight and two can put ten thousand,” Brilliant agreed. “Humans really don’t realize just how much power is mobilized when they pray, do they?” he asked, his question purely rhetorically. “They can’t see that upon their prayers we move. They can’t see that there are more of us than of them and that we are destined to win—with due prayer. I believe that if they were to truly know and understand, they’d pray much more.” He stopped speaking, while the eight angels stood in the air watching the drama unfold upon the temple roof, a drama that revolved around the lone human girl, who was oblivious to it all.

Depression sat on one side of Maya. Despair on the other. Each whispered into her ear. Their words wove their way into her and met the living Kali mantra that roiled inside of her. As they spoke, the peace that had settled heavily about her, dissipated.

Chamunda Kali whipped about in her pacing, “No! We need Delusion. After them,” she…it…cast a malevolent eye at the Lord’s angels, “she needs to be reminded…”

Even as she spoke, Delusion slipped near.

“We need to remind her of why she’s here, Delusion,” Chamunda cackled as her skin darkened to a rancid blue-black, “We need to draw her in deeper…”

Delusion slumped down behind Maya and placed his hands (if they could be called hands considering how gnarly and misshapen they were) on her head. He growled suggestions at her, which in her weakened mental state, caused her to think the thoughts he desired for her.

Maya’s mind slipped to when she first met Cha Ma and how she had been blown away. She had known…simply known…that Cha Ma was an avatar, one of those rare instances when a god or goddess took a human form in order to come to earth to help humanity, and as such, would lead her to enlightenment. Cha Ma would get her out of the reincarnation cycle once and for all.

Delusion continued, hissing into her ear, “Cha Ma is Kali. An avatar. She is your god.” Maya thought the thoughts exactly as Delusion fed them to her—she was such a willing, open vessel—Cha Ma is Kali. THAT I know. She is an avatar of Kali. She felt a thrill of something chase down her spine. It still blows me away to think that I live with an avatar!

Maya recalled how in three weeks time, she had taken a leave of absence from Harvard and had run off to India to live in Cha Ma’s ashram. She thought of her time at the ashram, how easy it had been to fit in with the hundreds of other devotees of Cha Ma who lived there. She thought of her newfound friends and acquaintances, some of whom were interested in enlightenment and others who were more interested in everything but—Radha, Sandi, Karuna, Alice, Anneshwari, Rukmini…Narayana. One thought of him, flooded Maya with a rash of conflicting emotions—anger, fascination, hurt, obsession, resentment, desire.

Leading her mind on a string, Delusion rasped at her, “Heh heh…Narayana will never like you, you silly girl. He is so close to Cha Ma. He is so high and you are…nothing!” Quickly, Maya snatched her mind away from the painful thoughts of Narayana—He doesn’t like me. He is so close to Cha Ma and I am nothing.”

She thought of how she had had pot washing duty for a time—how hard and tedious it had been—night after night scrubbing mountains of pots with ash and a coconut hull in that nasty, nasty kitchen—and had graduated to cooking in the kitchen. Thinking of the kitchen caused her to recall the scathing tongue-lashing she had received from Cha Ma. I deserved it. I’m blessed that I got it. I know it burned off so much karma—Maya reassured herself.

She remembered how she had run to the roof of the temple after that excoriating scolding and had tried to jump off, but simply could not. I am such a coward! If only I really wanted it… She thought of the many nights (almost every night) that she found herself standing on the edge of the temple roof wanting to jump, but lacking the courage.

“You lack courage,” Delusion muttered into her ear. “If you had courage…if you truly wanted enlightenment, you would have jumped by now. But, every night, you lose courage. You don’t want it enough. You are weak and useless.”

Maya sighed heavily, “I just don’t want it enough. I am weak and useless…” As she thought about her frustration, her cowardice, her weakness and uselessness, despair and depression began to overwhelm her. The lump in her throat that had begun to dissolve in the presence of the Lord’s angels came back. She felt hot tears sting her eyes. She sighed, deeply…heavily…and resumed her Kali mantra. “Omm…”

Fueled by the chanting, the insidious evil that had been planted in her by the mantra continued to grow. Feeling it burn vaguely in her belly, she stared at the glorious lightning that illuminated the sky. “Ahhh, Kali! What a show you’re giving…”

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