Jodi bridges heavenly hosts and her earthly charge

But this action of Jodi’s echoed throughout Heaven. A moment after she departed from Gerald’s dream, Jeff arrived for a supervisory session with his impetuous trainee. Together the two angels exited Gerald’s room to materialize in a clearing in the woods. An owl screeched. Jeff, as usual, selected a steely gray for his curly hair that contrasted sharply with his chocolate-hued skin, an appearance that impressed his subordinate as mature.

“Jodi, you know we never, ever introduce ourselves to our humans. It’s not part of the tradition.” He frowned and glared at her. Jeff epitomized the officious supervisor: his white robe was decorated with the golden sash of his rank and he carried a gilded staff to symbolize the celestial hierarchy and its regulations. Jodi, unimpressed by his embellishments, did not waver in her rebellion. Jeff sighed, “Certainly, I can see you’re communicating with Sue -- and plenty of mothers put trust in their children’s Guardian Angels. But, Jodi, not the child. You do not communicate with the child.”

“Why not? Why these stupid rules!” Despite her use of telepathic speech, Jodi’s retort resounded in no weaker or less challenging a timbre than would such a human outburst. As she argued, the elegant angelic garment she’d donned for Gerald’s dream transformed into a defiant military uniform similar to the silvery gray one in which Joan of Arc has been painted. Jodi added the lance, but no horse.

“Humans are supposed to discern their own talents and devise their own solutions.” Jeff scowled and thumped his staff on the dirt for emphasis. “We participate in extreme emergencies and supply assistance when required.” He continued, in a less domineering, more instructive tone, “If Gerald elected to study metaphysics, exhaustively researched Guardian Angels, and deduced how to cooperate directly with you -- that would be a free choice and therefore acceptable. But you! You forced the knowledge on him.” Jeff frowned, his shoulders slumped, his voice lowered in resignation, “Now he no longer has a choice; he has been forced to learn about spiritual beings at an incredibly young age.”

“But Sue told him about me and he insisted I speak to him. He wanted me to be his friend.” Jodi stamped her foot and clutched her lance, hilt on the ground, sharp point toward the sky. Her eyes narrowed with fury.

“He's. Only. Four. You have set his entire life on a track that perhaps he wouldn't choose.”

“Don’t you see?” Jodi pleaded, suddenly craving approval from her supervisor in guardian affairs. Her body slackened, her hand reached out toward Jeff. “Don’t you see?” she repeated. “What else could I do? I’m expected to respect my charge’s wishes no matter what his age. That is also part of my duty.” Her body straightened up as she quoted from the Handbook for Guardian Angels she’d been required to memorize prior to her apprenticeship as a Guardian. “To be available to my human in the way they request, if it is spiritually appropriate.” Jodi felt proud, pleased at her ability to support her action with the word of angelic law. Certain she’d prevailed, she wanted to smirk.

Her supervisor refused to acquiesce. “Jodi, you sought neither advice nor permission.” Jeff relinquished the mentoring mode because he was on the verge of losing self-control. Rage welled up at this recalcitrant neophyte; his right hand clenched his staff; his left fist accentuated his every syllable. His black eyes flashed. His tones surged forth, cold and brittle. “You must permit your supervisors to interpret what’s ‘spiritually appropriate.’ You sometimes are as headstrong as Gerald. And, you're not a four-year-old human.”

“Someday, far in the future, it will dawn on Gerald that he's never walked through life without angels. He'll discern an incompleteness. He will insist on walking alone. Intimately familiar with life with angels, it will be doubly difficult for him.”

Terror struck Jodi as she assimilated Jeff’s summary, presented in such ominous tones. She paled, looked at the ground and gulped. Her attire switched into the ankle-length robes of a novice in early training; her head was bared.

By her shift in appearance and body language, Jeff ascertained that he’d made himself clear. The supervisor, released his tense pose and switched to a compassionate tone, “Guardian Angels don't always follow the law precisely. It's a guide. There can be extenuating circumstances. God's available to provide advice – but, Jodi, you didn't ask. Yet, you want Gerald to listen to God, you and his own conscience. What kind of a role model are you?”

Finally Jodi fathomed the extent of her mistake. A significant part of her assignment as a Guardian Angel -- to teach Gerald to listen for divine guidance –she herself failed to do. She recognized that she’d presumptuously put herself in the role of Divine Guidance. “I’m sorry, Jeff. I’ve behaved arrogantly. Thank you for your patience with me.” Jodi’s voice shook with contrition.

Nonetheless, although she admitted she'd goofed in not petitioning for her Father’s approval, she secretly delighted in the realization that she and Gerald would have an actual relationship. That is what she’d longed for over the centuries -- a friendship with a human. Please, God, forgive me and don't let anything ever intrude between Gerald and me, she earnestly prayed. ... From Jodi: Guardian Angel in Training, Part I Chapter 1.