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Overview
Kenisha is born to an African-American single mother on the South Side of Chicago, and Michael is born four years later into a Jewish family in New York City. By the time they meet, she’s trapped in an unhappy marriage, and he’s a lawyer, a war hero, and a ladies’ man. The heavenly angels do all they can to help Kenisha and Michael remember God’s plan for them, while the opposing forces battle to keep them apart.
To be successful, Kenisha and Michael must work through social and cultural differences and religious roadblocks, while powerful spiritual warfare wages around them. Will these two unlikely mates overcome their challenges to further God’s plan?
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781450251464 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | iUniverse, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 09/23/2010 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 281 KB |
Read an Excerpt
Angels All Around
By Alice Burnette Greene
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2010 Alice Burnette GreeneAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-5145-7
Chapter One
She is an Angel on her way to existence in the created world. It was about time for her to leave. "This time," her thoughts spoke to her partner, "I'll make it. I won't fail like last time." She refined that thought. "Well, I didn't actually fail. I just didn't do everything I meant to accomplish. I wish it wasn't so hard to remember." She will soon enter a human embryo through the process of translation, leaving the heavenly realm and entering into the time-bound created world called earth.The breath of life of every human embryo comes from being inspirited by an angelic host. Without inspiriting, humans would have no sentient perception of the heavenly realm: no ability to think abstractly, reason, conjecture, theorize, create, acknowledge beauty, or recognize things theological. When the angelic hosts enter the created world, all knowledge of their heavenly existence is gone. Yet, the hosts are sent into the world with things to do, assigned to them by the Creator. They must remember who they are and what it is they are to do.
The Creator's Plan is for creation to be connected to but not controlled by the spiritual forces, which include the angelic hosts and their enemies, the Opposers. When the Angels in the world are successful in remembering what they are to do, they will ultimately bring the whole world back in sync with the Creator's Plan. The Opposers' goal is to keep the Angels distracted and to prevent them from returning to the Creator. This spiritual warfare takes place on the battleground of human souls.
This time she left with a new hope and joy. She was determined. She shared her thoughts with her partner, the one she is to join in the world with a shared purpose. "This time I'll be stronger. I won't be fooled or misled. Not this time." She gathered in herself the gifts assigned to her by the Creator, healing and great compassion, both greatly needed in the time and place she was entering. She sent encouraging farewells to her partner and began the translation. The entry was smooth; she found her place with relative ease. Then all awareness was gone. She was born on the south side of Chicago in 1972, earth time, nie Kenisha Brown, only daughter of Essie Mae Brown, an eighteen-year-old single mother and foster child.
Kenisha
"Hey, angel! I could use a good massage right now." That was Marvin. Half of his right leg had been blown off by a roadside bomb when he was on patrol in Baghdad. The other leg was wounded with a deep gash that severed sinew and nerves. They had worked hard to keep that one working for him, and it was getting better. He was only twenty-three years old. Full of anger and self-pity, he was brought in a month ago to the rehab unit and assigned to Kenisha for physical therapy. She refused to buy into his self-pity, treating him with total irreverence. She told him that he needed to get over it, that it could have been a lot worse. But she also told him that he was a hero, that he was brave, and that those things said a lot about him. His bravery would stay with him for the rest of his life, to share with his children and his grandchildren. She told him that he would heal, that he had his whole life ahead of him, and that he'd be able to kick a football farther than anybody with a real leg.
Marvin, like the rest of the patients in rehab, responded well to Kenisha's touch and her voice. Something about her was soothing. There was strength in her hands when she manipulated the muscles that didn't want to work anymore, but in that strength there was also a gentleness that seemed to be a part of her personality. When she spoke, when she touched, even when she looked at them, they seemed to feel the healing taking place, both mentally and physically.
"I'll send Nurse George over to take care of you right away, Marvin. And stop calling me angel," she shot back.
"I don't want no man rubbing on me. Come on, angel, just ten minutes. I won't tell your husband," he said.
She relented and walked over to him. "You're the one who better watch out for my husband. He's bigger than you. Roll over, and I'll work your leg for a bit." She had to keep from cringing when she looked at the deep gash in his lower leg.
"I'm next," said Jorge. He was in the bed to the right of Marvin and had been in the unit for a month learning to walk again after having both his legs broken when his Humvee turned over on top of him after hitting a land mine.
"Me, too, angel," cried out Jonathan, the newest one, over in the left corner two beds away. He had come in paralyzed from the waist down, hit by a sniper.
Her heart went out to them. She wished she had more time to spend with them all, but there were fifty-three more like them just on this unit. "Jorge, tell your wife what you want. She'll be here today. And, Jonathan, it's your turn to go with me to work out, so don't give me any lip, or I'll give you a workout you won't ever forget."
"Aw, angel, you're so mean."
"Stop calling me angel!"
Kenisha had been working at the VA rehab unit for four years now. It was an old hospital, but this wing had been recently renovated. The renovations were intended to give the room a fresh, new look, but the bare, white walls, white-tiled floor, and harsh fluorescent lights, along with the beeping and binging of the medical robotics, made this room feel as antiseptic as it smelled. It was already filled beyond its intended capacity.
She navigated between the beds skillfully as she checked the charts and the patients with smooth and sure movements. There were too many guys in this room for her. When the hospital was first built, rooms like this one were intended for low-maintenance patients, those who were in the final stages of care before discharge. Kenisha knew that with the kind of injuries these soldiers were coming in with, they needed more privacy. At least they have the curtains to separate their pain from each other, she thought.
After kneading Marvin's leg for a minute, she went over to help Jonathan into the wheelchair beside his bed and told the other two to behave. She was just about to roll Jonathan out when two orderlies brought in the new patient for the fifth bed in the four-man room-a young guy who had just come from overseas.
After Jonathan's session, Kenisha rolled him back into the room and helped him into the bed. She stopped to look at the chart of the new guy, Michael Lindebloom, who was now in the bed between Jonathan and Marvin. They had removed one kidney and a part of his lower intestines to fix the hole in his side, he had a broken left arm, his left lower leg had been amputated, and he was bandaged from the lower part of his face down his neck to the upper part of his chest. Extensive skin grafts had been required to repair the burns. He's lucky to be alive, she thought as her heart went out to him. As she stood there, Michael began to stir from his deep sleep.
Chapter Two
He felt her absence. She had forgotten everything now. They named her Kenisha. He wished he would be able to remember that name. The Creator had given them their instructions. He and Kenisha were to meet, marry, and have a child. A "special" child. It seems so simple. But it's never easy. The world is so full of distractions. What is easy is to get misled and turned around, to lose focus. So many have failed. He and Kenisha can't afford to fail this time. He knew that the Opposers would do all they could to stop them. The Opposers are well-practiced and know all the weaknesses and shortcomings of the created beings.He had to admit that failure is a real possibility. He reminded himself that if they do fail, the Creator's Plan would still be fulfilled—somehow. But he also knows that if they are able to remember and do their part, the Creator's Plan will move forward significantly. Otherwise, it could be Earth centuries before this part of the Plan is accomplished, and so many more of the children will be lost. They can't let the Opposers stop them this time.
Everything was set up for him now. He'll be born two years earlier and somewhere nearby where they'll be sure to meet. At least that's the plan. He knew the process well. With his will he found the right time, place, space, and person, and then he gathered his appointed gifts of righteousness, strength, and determination. Once the translation process started, he would no longer be in complete control. So everything had to be set up just right, and the timing had to be perfect. He turned his thoughts to the embryo that he was to enter and simply focused his being in that direction to start the translation process.
He never saw them coming. He was right, they were out in force. The Opposers waited just long enough for him to start the process, and then they moved a human host to drive a car while drunk, killing the planned human parent just as he was about to inspirit the fertilized egg in her womb. At that point in the inspiriting process, any other host would have gone back to the heavenly realm and worked out another plan. But that would have dramatically changed the plan, increasing the difficulty these two would have finding each other.
What the Opposers didn't know was that he had worked out an alternative plan, with the Creator's approval—not as good a human match for Kenisha as the original plan, but one that could be worked. With a mighty strength of determination and effort that had not been seen before, he turned away in mid-process and moved six earth-years ahead to the second human, who also didn't know that she was pregnant yet. He entered, and all awareness was gone. He was born Michael Lindebloom, the third son of Jewish parents Jeff and Sophie, in Brooklyn, New York, 1976.
The Opposers raged with anger. They were not finished with these two hosts.
Michael The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was her standing there above him, with the afternoon October sun shining in behind her through the dusty window. She had a short Afro haircut, dyed kind of platinum blondish, and through his haze, the sun shining from behind her made her hair look like a halo around her head. He vaguely wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. She turned, looked at him, and smiled. Something moved deep within him.
"Hey, soldier," she said gently. He couldn't open his mouth in response. She looked at his chart, then at him, and said, "You're gonna be just fine," and walked out. That deep place within him accepted her prognosis, and he fell back to sleep.
Around 4:00 pm Michael's consciousness was aroused again by the voice of the guy in the bed next to him. "Hey, angel, get me a beer, will you? I'm dying of thirst."
"Trust me, Marvin, I won't let you die. Here, have some apple juice," she said.
She really is an angel, Michael thought. His thoughts skittered around the idea of needing to be in a hospital in heaven, but it was too much. He tuned out again.
Michael woke about 7:00 pm with his parents and his brother, Charlie, standing around the bed staring emotionally at him. Dr. Brennan, the chief surgeon, had just reviewed Michael's situation with them. The truck carrying Michael's unit had been hit by a roadside bomb. Michael was sitting next to the driver, who was killed. Michael was thrown out of the front of the truck, the force of the bomb burning the flesh on the left side of his face and upper chest. His left arm was broken, and shrapnel cut through his torso injuring his intestines and kidneys as well as mangling his left leg. The only way to save his life was to remove the left leg below the knee and to remove his left kidney and some of his intestines.
Michael's first lucid thought when he saw his family there was to wonder why his mother was crying. The dark mascara streaks down her cheeks, her red, puffy eyes, and the tight, wavering lips stretched into an unsuccessful smile belied her cheerful "Hi, baby." She was leaning on Dad, who held her tight and made no effort to show anything but concern.
Michael turned to look at Charlie on the other side of the bed, who smiled bravely and said, "Welcome back." Michael tried to open his mouth to speak, but he couldn't. Slowly he began to remember. As his mind climbed into awareness, he began to see it all over again: the soldiers in the truck, the bomb, the explosion. His mind went off like a siren as pictures of chaos, destruction, and fear broke through his semiconsciousness, like bombs going off all over again; he escalated into complete panic. He tried to shout out loud with his mind since he couldn't get his mouth to open, but the only thing his distraught family could see was the panic in his eyes. Michael struggled to pull out of the restraints of tubes and bandages, when a man in white came in seemingly from nowhere and authoritatively put his hand on Michael's forehead, ordered Michael to calm down, and shooed his family out.
"Michael, calm down," he ordered. "You're back in the States. You're having a flashback. It's just a flashback. Calm down."
The strength of his voice made its way through Michael's mental chaos. "You're back in Chicago, in the Veteran's Hospital. I'm Dr. Brennan." Dr. Brennan looked into Michael's eyes until he saw Michael's panic begin to subside.
Michael calmed down as commanded. He couldn't stop the tears from welling up and rolling down as if they had minds of their own. Everything came back to him now. Michael tried to lift himself up with his arms, but couldn't. He reached down with his right arm to try to find his leg, and he moaned.
The doctor saw him reaching and said more softly, "You're going to miss your leg. It's not unusual for you to feel like it's there. Don't worry, with a prosthesis, you'll be fine. You'll be here for several weeks. You've had skin graft surgery to repair the burns on your face and neck. That's why your face is wrapped. We expect you to look almost good as new when we're finished. You're a lucky guy, Michael. You're going to be just fine."
Hadn't somebody else told him that, or was it just a dream?
Dr. Brennan left, and Michael's family moved back to his bedside. Michael suffered through their attempts to be brave for a couple of hours, until he finally feigned sleep after dinner so that they would leave. He needed to be alone with his thoughts. He woke up from his pretend sleep around 8:00 am, without having thought a thing, and there she was again, at the foot of his bed, the angel. "Hey, sleeping beauty," she said. "How ya feeling?" Her eyes and her lips moved into a smile that said she was happy to see him. She seemed to him, somehow, vaguely familiar.
Michael thought she was a nurse. There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. She was more attractive than she was pretty. The short, blonde Afro accentuated her coffee-with-cream skin. Her eyes were large and slightly almond-shaped, dark brown, and too deep to easily look into. Her generous smile opened up a dimple on her left cheek. She was pretty. But what grabbed him wasn't so much her looks. There was an aura about her, something that he couldn't grasp. It was just too hard to think. He still couldn't get his mouth or his mind to respond to her.
She seemed to know what he was thinking when she said, "I'm not a nurse. I'm your rehabilitation therapist. You'll spend a lot of time with me when you get a little stronger. We'll get you out of here in no time."
At that moment he was glad that he couldn't respond, because he didn't know what to say.
Chapter Three
The Opposers' thoughts were dark and always angry. The anger roiled around and clashed brutally into itself. Each time they intervened to destroy the enemy's plan, somehow they could never completely stop it. Their successes were many, though, and they continued to try, as they had since almost the beginning of time, and as they always will. Their purpose was no less than to return creation back to chaos, back to the deep dark, as it was before the beginning of created time. In order to do that, they had to turn as many angelic souls away from the Creator as possible.The one called Michael was not supposed to be born. None of the heavenly hosts had ever seen a translation like that before. After the amazing translation into the new womb, the Opposers put the thought in the mother's head to abort him. She tried, but somehow he was hidden away deep inside and the procedure didn't reach him. She didn't know that it didn't work until it was too late for her to try again. The one called Kenisha should not have been born either. The Opposers thought they had destroyed her mother's womb by a previous abortion, but again the life force proved to be too strong.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Angels All Around by Alice Burnette Greene Copyright © 2010 by Alice Burnette Greene. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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