God’s Favorite Angels

 

Angels Among UsGod’s Favorite Angels . . . aren’t in heaven

They walk and talk on earth . . .
halos hidden, wings tucked in tightly,
so as not to startle those of us who need them.
They offer words of encouragement.
They make us laugh.
They give good advice.
They give gifts of time, money, self.
They lift us up from the mundane and
give us love that transcends human bounds.
They are the Sun that shows us the smile
on God’s face and the Rolling Thunder
of wisdom that reveals Him to us gently,
when we need Him most.
Merry Christmas and
Happy Hanukkah, Angels.
God has blessed me in knowing you.

The Good Die Young

There has been such a tremendous groundswell of interest in angels, I wonder if people are becoming more needy for something greater, or simply more aware.

The movie, City of Angels explores the “fall” of an angel (Seth) to mortality because he falls in love with a human.

It is the thumbnail of the descent of man from spiritual to physical.   And the final message, when an angel tells Seth, “This is life,” isn’t really reassuring.  Because in our consciousness, all we know is life.

And we want, or need more.

When I was 17, my best friend died in an unexplainable car crash.

There had been four of us — Jimmy, Tony, Bill and myself.  We were together night and day, except for work and sleep and if we even considered the rest of our lives, we foresaw that togetherness as our life.  We were blissful.  Other women would come and go in their lives, I was constant.  We were friends in the most extreme definition.

When Jimmy died we went through a fog of days at the funeral home, at his family’s home, or crying alone.  Alone for the first time in months. The three of us who were left were disjointed and wounded.  We never recovered.

In the three days before he was buried, I never say Jimmy’s body, nor his casket.   His casket was sealed because of his injuries, and seeing it bore a finality I wouldn’t face.  And so I avoided the room where he lay.  I sat, outside the door each day, but I never entered the room.

On the day of his funeral I went looking for his mother and father, and went to the room where they were.    It was across the hall from the spot where I’d spent the last three days – I had no idea why they were there but I needed to be with them.

Jimmy had been moved into that room during the night.  When I saw his casket for the first time I was so stunned, I staggered.  I felt myself literally falling apart.

Someone took my arm, held me up and walked me outside to Tony and Bill. I turned to thank my rescuer and no-one was there.  I felt the hand leave my arm and I knew it had been Jimmy.  I  knew.

I have never stopped mourning him, or missing his active presence in my life.  I don’t know that people turn into angels.  Or that he was an angel who had “fallen” to this plane for whatever experience he was in need of.  There’s a hierarchy about heavenly beings that I don’t understand.  All I know is that I’ll know when I’m supposed to know.

But I do believe my relationship with Jimmy has an angelic bent, because I believe he has been in and out of my life (or my consciousness) all these years.
I’ve felt his presence, and his protection, or guardianship more than once.

And I want to accept that he is doing what he is meant for while I’m trying to find my way.

My purpose in this life seems to be that of Mother – I have such responsibility for my little tribe, and I find myself, comfortably, in a position of counseling others frequently.  But I have, too, a longing for comfort and security.  A security that is not of this earth.

At the beginning of the movie, City of Angels, Nicholas Cage, as Seth the Angel, walks with the spirit of a small girl who has died.  She has left her body on the emergency room table, her mother crying hysterically.  The girl asks, “Where are we going?”

His reply?  “Home.”