Blake Healy - Indestructible

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INDESTRUCTIBLE by Blake K. Healy

Published by Charisma House

Charisma Media/Charisma House Book Group

600 Rinehart Road, Lake Mary, Florida 32746

This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwisewithout prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version, NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.

Scripture quotations marked ESV are from the Holy Bible, English Standard Version. Copyright 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a division of Good News Publishers. Used by permission.

Scripture quotations marked NASB are from the New American Standard Bible, copyright 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. www.Lockman.org

Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Copyright 2020 by Blake K. Healy

All rights reserved

Visit the authors website at blakekhealy.com.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:

An application to register this book for cataloging has been

submitted to the Library of Congress.

International Standard Book Number: 978-1-62999-677-6

E-book ISBN: 978-1-62999-678-3

Some names in this book have been changed to protect the privacy of those individuals. Any similarity between the names and stories of individuals described in this book and individuals known to readers is purely coincidental.

While the author has made every effort to provide accurate internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

CONTENTS

I COUNTED AT LEAST fifteen angels in the church sanctuary. I could see a few more through the window to the foyer but figured that it would be best to keep it simple and focus on the room that I was in. I flipped open my notebook and started jotting down a brief description of each angel.

They seemed to be arranged in three groups of five. One group stood on the stage where the band was preparing to start the worship service. The other two groups were on the ground in front of the stage, one to the far right, the other to the far left. All the angels were wearing white robes with gold stitching. All were different sizes but within the boundaries of average human height. All except one.

One of the angels stood at the very center of the stage. This angel was easily nine feet tall with bright golden hair that matched his broad, golden wings. The other angels were standing casually, arms at their sides. This angel stood with his arms outstretched, eyes gazing upward with intense, childlike wonder.

The tall angel brought his arms down in a swift motion, somewhere between that of a conductor leading a symphony and a general adding emphasis to a command. All at once the angels on and at either side of the stage snapped into a clear formation, and the band struck the first note of the first worship song.

The tall angel returned to his worshipful stance, arms out, eyes up. The other angels on stage followed suit as the angels on the ground began to dance. They ran up and down the aisles with great leaping steps that would have made even the most talented ballet dancer look clumsy. Each leap grew longer and longer as the song continued, and a soft greenish mist began to fill the room. With it came the distinct sensation of peace that I associated with the presence of God.

My eyes bounced back and forth between the angels and my notes as I did my best to scribble down as much detail as I could manage without getting too far behind. I took in a deep breath and gave my stiff fingers a stretch. I looked around at the rest of the room and felt my heart sink. There was so much that I wasnt writing down.

Each person in the room had a personal angel standing near him or her, each of which was participating with worship in a unique way: dancing, singing, jumping up and down. The green mist was wrapping around people in the room like a warm blanket. Heavy chains that had been hanging across some peoples shoulders began falling to the ground in response to the mist.

About a dozen different demons were spread across the room. Each was gray-skinned, bony, and under three feet tall and only vaguely resembled the shape of a human. They had been wandering around the room like someone having a hard time finding an open seat but were now shying away from the mist as if it was dangerous to breathe.

There was so much that I didnt have time to write down. I was barely able to keep up with what the angels were doing in conjunction with worship. I snapped the notebook shut, dropped it to the ground next to my feet, and let out a heavy sigh.

I was fourteen years old. Though I had been seeing angels, demons, and other spiritual things for as long as I could remember, it had been only two years since I learned that my open visions were the result of a God-given gift. Though I had grown up in a Christian family, the churches we attended did not teach about spiritual gifts or seeing in the spirit realm, so I never had a clear context for the things I saw. My whole world changed when we started attending a church that was very active about training its congregation in the gifts of the Spirit.

Though none of the leaders at the church saw in the spirit the way that I did, they all did their best to help me steward and grow my gift. Recording the things I saw in a notebook had been one of their suggestions. I had been keeping this habit sporadically for the last two years. It was days like this that made it easy to be sporadic. I wanted to help and bless others with the things I saw, but it was hard to know how to do that when there was so much to see. Which things were most important? Which would be most helpful?

I looked down at the notebook, gave a frustrated grunt, and picked it back up. Better to write down something than nothing, even if it was less than a tenth of what was happening. I decided to just focus on what the angels were doing in response to worship.

The large angel on the stage was now floating several feet above the ground, waving its arms in wide windmill patterns. It still had the same expression of childlike wonder and delight shining on its face. The smaller angels on stage followed the larger angels lead, their rhythm and motion complementing the movements of the larger angel. The dancing angels were still bounding up and down the aisles, but their leaps had grown so large that some of them bounded from the back of the room to the front of the stage in a single leap.

Whether it was because of what the angels on the stage were doing, the way the angels in the aisles were dancing, or something else entirely, the green mist in the room began to swirl. It churned in a great swell, rushing forward from the stage, crashing into the back wall, flowing upward and across the ceiling, then back down to the stage again like the spin cycle of a giant washing machine.