Angels on Overtime: A Divine Romantic Comedy

“Christopher,” Brooke asks, “what do you make of all the bad things that happen on Earth?”

“Oh, humans tend to be generally good. Some just get sidetracked along their way to ‘good,’ I guess.” Christopher lets her think about that for a moment before asking, “Feel like playing some games?”

“Sure.”

David joins them as Christopher pulls up a picture of the globe. From a pull-down menu, he selects a filter. They watch a greyish-black web extend all around the planet.

“That’s the dark side. It gets lighter every year.”

“Dark side?” David coughs. And just like Brooke said a long time ago, he says, “There’s no such thing.”

“Right, it’s not a real thing, per se. It’s just people’s belief in it that creates it. There are no monsters, no creepy crawlies, really, not anywhere—not out in the universe and not inside any human heart.”

Christopher selects another filter from the pull-down menu, and the group watches Earth light up under a rose-colored web.

“That’s the angelic realm,” he explains. “It stays exactly the same, wherever we are—whatever planet in whatever galaxy—millennium after millennium, light-year after light-year. We’re already infinite love, so it stays steady. It won’t grow or shrink or become lighter or darker.”

Christopher picks another filter, and they watch a glorious golden grid form over the planet. “That’s the awakening,” he says. “More and more humans are awakening. Every single day, the grid—and the planet— gets lighter and lighter, plus more and more powerful, too. It’s better here than anywhere else in the universe. Some planets are more awake, but they started out more awake. These humans on Earth are singular in this capacity.”

As Christopher talks, the golden web glows a little brighter, then even a little brighter again.

“There’s only so much we angels can do,” Christopher adds. “We are created only to love and only to be love. But humans start out their first time with almost nothing, and they have an infinite capacity to grow, time after time, so the more their love grows—”

“The brighter the web grows,” Brooke finishes.

“The higher they vibrate, the more people they get to vibrate at that level. Once one breaks through to a new level, others further on down the road can get there in even less time.”

“How much brighter has it become just while we’ve been standing here watching it?” David queries.

“About three percent,” Christopher says, pointing to a gauge in the corner of the screen. “You should’ve seen it five thousand years ago, two thousand years ago. Even a hundred years ago. So much darker.”

“How much brighter will it get?” Brooke asks.

“Up to them,” Christopher responds, pointing to the planet under the grid. He watches Brooke and David, to determine their reactions to his words. They are transfixed by the picture on the screen.

Christopher switches back and forth between the different light grids. “You can see the webs without the computer,” he adds, “if you want to. Anyone can, even them.”

Brooke and David remain completely transfixed, spellbound by the images on the computer.