an angel - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Though the sunset was illuminating the horizon, the woodland pathway was still dark. The trees stood as if charcoal against the deep blue sky. The only flash of color was the orange pouring across the skyline like molten lead from a furnace. John slung the sack of grain over his shoulder and walked, not looking at the beauty ahead, only at the rain sodden path that was treacherous with slippery mud. After a time he became aware of a glowing up ahead too low and too white to be the sunrise and he lifted his eyes to meet it. He stopped. A figure approached, not human, but human form. It was not reflecting the morning light, but emitting it, actually glowing from within. His skin was almost metallic, bronze perhaps and he was tall, taller even than John. His eyes were like fire, reds, oranges and yellows that flickered and sparked. Despite the mud on the track the figure's white robes were quite spotless, even his shoes. Then he spoke, deep and baritone, "Fear not, I am an angel of God."
Gyan hung his head and let the tears flow. He would never be as strong or as clever as his older brother. It was time to quit school and earn money for the family. From deep within his sobs pulle at his rib cage and his heart felt like it had been bound in steel wire.
“I am a messenger angel. You must continue,” came a voice more soothing than a thousand kisses. “You are destined for God's work, you will report the truth and in doing so His work will be done.”
Gyan raised his head, through blurred vision he could see only a man, a man with a glowing face and eyes of orange flame. He nodded. He would continue, he would report the truth. His eyes dried. A dangerous path no doubt, but in his heart he had only ever wanted to serve, to do good.
Damian sat on the grass, a chemistry text open on his knees. Anymore all night study sessions and he felt like his brain would mutiny. The words were shifting right and left, the symbols dancing over the page. He rested his eyes a while. On opening them he startled, sitting next to him was a handsome man. Now he knew he'd been pushing himself too hard. His dream date wasn't ever going to show up like this. When he turned to speak his voice rolled out more perfect than any opera singer. “Damian, I am an angel of God. I bring you good news.” Damian was scared, he could see his life stretching before him on some locked psychiatric ward like his aunt. “You will not develop chemical weapons, but will discover critical solutions to the problems of all people. You will spend your life doing His work.” Damian nodded. Then blurted out:
“But I'm a gay atheist.”
“You belong to Him, He loves you.”
Aminah awoke to a glow in her bedroom that was too white to be daylight. “The night light,” she thought, “I've left the night light on.” Bringing herself up to her elbows she saw a young man with gold skin sitting opposite. The light, it seemed, was coming from him. He couldn't be human, though he was quite perfect. When he spoke his voice was the most beautiful song, more beautiful than she could ever have imagined, or later could describe.
“Do not be afraid, I am an angel of God.” Aminah said nothing. This was a dream. “Study, Aminah. Study and become an advocate God's women and girls. They are equal to men, not cattle to be controlled and owned.” Aminah nodded mutely. Without another word he left, gone in three swift strides. Her room became dark again. Suddenly her mind was filled with questions, she threw back the covers and chased down the stairs. The house was black and still. He was gone.
From the gloom of the cave came a white glow. David drew his gun. It was his job to flush out these systems no matter who was inside. On an internal count of three he moved from the dapples light of the forest into the cave-mouth. A chill breeze pushed back his blonde hair and blew some dust into his eyes. He blinked furiously then put down his goggles. His device was showing multiple heat sources within of various sizes- insurgents. With safety off he prepared to spray bullets into the soft light, but instead a glowing form stepped into his line of sight. It was a tall man of sorts, not carrying a flashlight but glowing like sunlight was trapped within him and seeping through his pores. “Do not fear, David. I am an angel of God. You will leave this place and these people.” David lowered his weapon.
“Yes,” he said, “yes, of course.”
“Tell your masters that the slaughter of His people must end. You are all His people and the caretakers of His earth.”
Through the gathering mist came the form of a man, young and strong. He moved over the snow in great strides. From a distance he looked like a cut-out of a man, for where he was there was more light instead of less. With the sunrays shrouded by cloud he was the brightest light in view. Gabby stopped what she was doing and just froze. As he came closer she could see that he was not equipped for the mountain conditions, yet he wasn't showing signs of coldness at all. All he wore was a robe so white it made the new snow look dirty. He gazed at her with eyes that reminded her of red-hot coals. Perhaps she wondered, this is an alien. “Do not be afraid.” The voice did not enter through her ears but arrived directly in her head. Gabby swallowed, perhaps this was a hallucination. The form continued, “I am an angel of the Lord.”
“But I'm a Hindu, you've got the wrong person.”
“God does not distinguish between the human factions, he only considers the love in their hearts and minds.
God's messenger was called on the explain disease and viruses, if God is real why do we have such things? The messenger looked back, her expression grim. "I've read before statements such as 'If God is omnipotent He is malevolent and if He is not, then He is not God.' Well, here's the thing, God is not omnipotent, you've all been asking for (been lead to expect) too much for a very long time. I read that statement as akin to saying 'If my Dad isn't the strongest man in the universe, he isn't my Dad!' Grow up."
"God does His best every second of every day to bring about peace, love, heaven on earth, but He's stretched to the limit trying to care for billions of people and the rest of the planet. He isn't limitless, but He is God and He loves every single one of you unconditionally. He is beauty beyond measure, He is pure love, He is amazing and I love Him. He is the One True God, but that doesn't mean He is the only player in town. He will love you no matter what, but He's asking for your help. Without you choosing the side that is Love - not fear, hate, vanity, greed, sloth, envy - the world will become more hellish. He won't ever go, but He'll be stretched so thin that eventually He won't be able to reach you anymore. He has faith in humanity, every single one of us, as individuals, He seeks a personal bond with you that is Love. So with no threat of hell, with no promise of everlasting life, will you be His hands and feet? Will you work for Love? Because He needs you to choose to be kind and loving. He needs you to help Him save His Earth and humanity."
The room grew dark. So did the chance of my survival. I was tortured, electrocuted and thrown in a small room with no escape. I had been a day and a half and my wounds were dangerously bad and I was dehydrated. I thought it was it. I lied down on the cold stone floor and my eyes started to close. All signs of life were slowly disappearing into thin air. I was about to end this suffering and let go of the small amount of life I had left. But then a bleary white figure came close to me and almost blinded me. She had a long white gown on and she had a silvery halo floating on top of her wavy blonde hair. I fainted. I woke up not long after in a forest far away from the fearsome room. I was surrounded by mass amounts of angels all with the same white gown, the same white skin each angel seemed to have a different purpose in making me better. One tended to my head injuries and the others focused on my bad spinal injuries and one for my barely beating heart.
It was a young boy. His soft curls of hair were the colour of starlight, and his freckled face was smeared with blood. A lilac scarf wrapped over his black leather jacket and fell over his still-blossoming shoulders. His white wings, still fleecy with down, were shredded and soiled with bloody bullet holes. They draped across the glass tiredly, feathers rippling in the noon breeze.