Below is an updated/revised version of ‘An Angel’s Tale’ by Jenna Sorenson that is worth your time rereading if you’ve already read it, and an absolute ‘must read’ if you’ve never experienced a supernaturally creative download through the spirit of one of His precious children.

The vision for the arts express’d is to equip a generation in Kingdom identity & purpose. In so doing, Kingdom sons & daughters will be passionately in pursuit of the King and His Kingdom on Earth, always available as His vessels to receive creative downloads with which to transform the atmosphere and the nations in which they live. Creative downloads come in all forms: music, art, dance, design, photography, literature, etc. Below is a wonderful example of our daughter being a creative Kingdom vessel. This breathtaking poem was dropped into her spirit supernaturally quickly while working on a class assignment. Be blessed!

An Angel’s Tale
Copyright 2011 Jenna Sorenson/the arts express’d

A lily with no flaws.
Serene lake of glass, every wave moving rhythmically
as if directed by a master composer 

and followed by choirs of youthful angels
playing golden harps and lyres.
Perfection impersonated 

is what some believe heaven to be.
Yes, truth! Still, truth, to some extent
is not a whole truth.

So, I will tell what you may understand.
Yes, there is music and it masterfully composed,
and yes, heaven is peaceful!

Yet, heaven is so much more.
Heaven is a story with no beginning or ending.
My words fail to describe 

the wondrous lands and majestic galaxies.
There is overcoming triumph, we rejoice a victory!
There is overwhelming sadness

when one from Earth is harmed or lost.
I am carried by waves of indigo blue and iridescent white
brushing against the soles of my feet.

Air so crisp, times, and times sharper,
than the sharpest air you've ever breathed.
Water is made of crystals,

I can hold it in my hands
and it melts upon entering my lips.
My thirst is quenched for days,

refreshing my entire being.
Brooks laugh with joy and glee,
silly children with a joke; 

not so funny as they think.
Stop too long, they will try their best to make you laugh.
About the music: 

everything is music!
Hear Wind, he forever whispers a song.
A father singing soothing lullabies, 

"Hush, my dear worries are not for you...
My gift to you a crown of peace,
with  pearls and jades and stones with blue..."

Instruments play themselves
unleashing tidal waves of sound.
The drums' beat call your feet to dance and 

Oh, the rhythm of the bass-
your soul's very heartbeat!
There is always light, but no sun.

He, Creator of heaven and earth,
is the source of all light.
Gates of pearls and emeralds 

gleam like snow under His light.
Streets of endless gold
are the very arms of moonlight.

These are but few of heaven's smallest mysteries.
You ask about me, I have jet black hair
That fall to my shoulders.

I am ten feet tall,
small in comparison to those around me.
I have large and powerful wings,

pure white; embedded with luxurious stones.
If you could see them,
that is how they would appear.

Picture a humming bird,
One of earth's smallest birds.
This creature flies 

and her wings are but a blur.
Mine and everyone else's are similar.
The wings are there, 

just not within your frame of vision.
Now today is a very important day.
As I look down upon the child, I am filled with pride.

How I remember the first day
I was appointed to watch over her.
Poor helpless child, 

wrapped in a dirty blanket!
Taking her first gasps of oxygen,
as her young mother breathed her last.

What a dirty and awful place for a babe!
Oh, her story reminds me of my Lord, 

when He was born on earth;
His bed was but a dirty manger.
That night, the very first night, 

she spent alone. A forbidding of what was to come?
Drops fell from my eyes
and crashed like fragile glass as they hit the ground.

I stood over her and wept.
Both with joy and sadness, I wept!
My wings were a shield

guarding her from the bitter wind.
A heavy lump climbed my throat.
Still, that night I sang her song;

its very melody runs though her DNA.
Every human being has their very own song,
Not to be replicated by anyone.

Now she is six...
Oh, my little precious and kind hearted beauty!
Never given a name,

used and abused.
Oh, how Fury burned within me,
when I was prevented 

from keeping her from scarring pain!
Those heartless rats!
Faster than the beat of my wings,

I would have run my sword of light through them,
had I only been given the command.
Oh, wretched was I!

Nothing is worse for a Guardian
Than the feeling of helplessness;
not being able to protect his earthly treasure.

Her life on earth is over,
Her destiny not fully reached.
Still, she will do great things. 

Hardship builds character.
Hers is one of kindness.
I have weaved her a garment of gold and

anointed her waist long hair with oil.
Now we go... forward we go!
The past is forgotten,

a vain wisp of smoke in the wind.
I am so proud to present her
to her Heavenly Father, my Lord!

I hold her small hand and we walk forward.
We travel galaxies in seconds
Wind has crowned my little darling and

brooks have made her laugh.
Almost there...forward we go!
We approach His Majesty and I fall to my knees, 

not out of force, but by choice.
Oh, how glad He is to see her precious smile!
He gently kneels at her eye level, and 

with such grace and overwhelming love,
leans over and gently kisses her anointed head.
Then from deep within He sings! 

As the sound of oceans,
He sings her song,
and to my delight she sings back to Him!

Oh blessed I am! What beautiful harmony!
Silence... Do you hear the song is over,
yet, still resonating around us? 

The sound is as drops of rain returning to the sea.
I am shaken to the core!
He smiles a brilliant smile lit by a hundred stars

and says, "Your name, the name I gave
you before you were even born...
Precious, My Precious."