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personal vendetta when it should not be.”
    Jennifer replied, “I watched my own daughter-in-law suffer in your Sea of Fire. I watched my own brother burn in the eternal flames of a fire pit; so yes, to me this is personal. I know your kind only too well. You speak of doing your job. And what job is that? There is a difference between the executioner and the torturer, sir, and you and your kind are the latter. You do not belong here any more than Genghis Khan or Adolph Hitler. Hell is your home, and I will not rest until you are once more cast out of Heaven and back to that place where you belong.”
    A growing applause arose from the congregation. Further debate would have been futile. The demon lieutenant and his two escorts departed. For several minutes the congregation continued in their cheers of defiance. Jennifer finally quieted the masses.
    “There you have it, my brothers and sisters,” she began. “That is what we are dealing with. They will mix some truth with their lies, but they are still lies. I’ve opened the books in the Hall of Records that no one else wishes to see, the black books. I’ve witnessed firsthand their contents, and I tell you this—Satan’s minions are master torturers. For the sake of the children, I will not subject this assembly to any further description of what I have seen in those pages. I have already said more than I should have, and I ask your forgiveness for that. But the leopard cannot change his spots and neither can the minions of Satan. Hell is their home, not Heaven. We must stand with the angels, for they have stood with us more times than we can possibly know.”
    The congregation was in agreement: they needed to stand with the angels in their struggle—but how? What could they do against the fiery swords of the demon armies? It seemed a futile struggle. In the end, committees were established to study the situation and make recommendations. They all agreed to meet again in three days.
    As Christopher left the church with the Andersons, he had become even more determined to get into this fight. But what could he do? Taking down two demons was one thing, but he was dealing with an entire demon army of over 100 million. Even dealing with the two this afternoon had left him feeling weak. Yes, it had to be the power of God acting through him, but why him? Why not someone older and wiser?
    “It’s not by might, not by power, but by My Spirit, sayeth the Lord,” he murmured. Surely there had to be others who could do what he had done. As he faded off to sleep that night he prayed for guidance. He had discovered an incredible gift, yet he still was unsure how to use it.

     
    Jerry stared intently at the metal lure glistening in the filtered sunlight of the forest. He had been doing so for nearly five minutes.
    “Picture it rising,” insisted Christopher. “Know that it can be moved. Be sure that you can do it…don’t doubt.”
    Jerry’s face took on an even more determined scowl, yet nothing happened. A moment later he turned away. “I can’t.”
    “You can’t because you believe you can’t,” replied Christopher. “As long as you believe you can’t, you never will.”
    Jerry’s face took on a puzzled aspect. “Say what?”
    “What,” replied Christopher.
    “No, I didn’t mean for you to say what,” said Jerry, frustration in his voice. He sat down on a nearby boulder and stared out at the waters of the stream. “Why do you have to take everything so literally?”
    “My upbringing, I suppose,” said Christopher.
    “Sometimes I just don’t understand you,” said Jerry, whose gaze hadn’t moved from the water. “Just a couple of days ago things seemed so simple. I had my eternity all planned out. I’d go fishing with my dad, walk in the woods, go talk to God in the Holy Place…those kinds of things. My life was perfect. Then yesterday had to come. This is Heaven, not Earth. It isn’t supposed to be like this.”
    “But it is,” said