So when she was awakened abruptly by two luminous beings in her bedroom she was not entirely surprised, even though awestruck. “Glory to God!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide, her face enraptured. The two tall men had very kind and compassionate faces, but their expressions were serious. One was tall and blond, the other dark-haired and youthful. Both towered as high as the ceiling, and the glow from their white tunics filled the room. Each had a magnificent golden scabbard and belt, and the handles of their swords were purest gold, with fiery jewels. “Edith Duster,” said the big blond one in a deep, resonant voice, “we are going into battle for the town of Ashton. The victory rests on the prayers of the saints of God. As you fear the Lord, pray, and call others to prayer. Pray that the enemy will be vanquished and the righteous delivered.” Then the dark-haired one spoke. “Your pastor, Henry Busche, has fallen prisoner. He will be delivered through your prayers. Call Mary, his wife.
