“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against
the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the
spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.'
(Ephesians 6:12-13)
Prologue
She was screaming. I stepped back fast enough to nearly topple myself off the end
of the porch, pulling the door closed with the momentum. I pressed my forehead
against the cool glass of the door and asked myself how bad I needed the
shovel. Frigid night air whipped the falling snow into frenzy and showed no
sign of slowing down anytime soon. At least a foot a snow already graced the
lawn and walkway. Pretty bad, I decided.
“Ok.”
I exhaled and looked around, hoping to see a neighbor or a passing car-a
dog-anything. But the street was quiet. Everyone seemed to be hunkered down for
the night with one goal in mind-staying warm. I didn’t blame them. It proved
they weren’t idiots like me. I should have been home in front of a roaring fire
sipping cocoa or reading a novel. Instead I was standing on a freezing concrete porch listening to a ghost shriek like a
banshee inside the house I was about enter-to get a shovel. To top it all off,
I had forgotten to put socks on before leaving home. I shouldn’t have been
surprised. I had a long history of being on the forgetful side. My grandmother
called it a talent. I could lose anything-keys, clothes, papers, or bills. If
you can dream it I can forget it was my personal motto for several years.