>About The Angel…
>A few people expressed interest in the comment I made on the awards post concerning the angel incident. It requires a little bit of a preface…but here it is. In reality, it’s two parts; I’m putting them together and you’ll see why.
I grew up in a mobile home. At the northern end was the kitchen/dining room. The living room was next to the room my sister and I shared. The bathroom separated our room from my mom’s bedroom. It was easy for me to learn which direction was what because mom taught me that the sun rose in the east, where the front of the trailer faced. The back was west, etc.
Our dirt driveway (actually, our land) was on a slight incline and separated our land from my uncle’s, a fenced in area where he would hold cows intended for sale, or, alternately, grow and harvest hay. Basically, a large, empty field-with two apple trees approximately fifteen or twenty yards apart.
The kitchen had two windows; one faced west (the back yard) and the other north (the empty pasture with a perfect view of the two trees). The sink was under the northern window….at the time of the first incident, I wasn’t tall enough to see out the window…I had to stand on tip-toe to put a cup into the sink….Ready?
Mat 18:10 “Take heed that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that in heaven their angels always see the face of My Father who is in heaven.”
Cowboy cup in hand, I was walking to the sink to put it away. I could stand on my toes and push it over the edge and get it into the sink all by myself. But, something funny was happening. The sink disappeared. The wall and the window did, too. I could see the trees in Uncle’s pasture. I walked to the edge of the floor and I could see the whole pasture. I felt funny. From the east, a giant angel came. In the air, he stopped in the middle between the two trees. He was beautiful. In one hand, he held a trumpet. With the other, he reached toward me. I began walking to him, stepping off the edge of the floor, into the air, reaching out my own hand. Then, everything went black….
For years, I wondered it what I had seen was real. It was something I held deep inside of me, not sharing with anyone. Other strange things had happened, but none had seemed as real or intense.
The nineties were very dark years and I won’t go into all that here. In ’97, I injured my back and was literally bedridden for two weeks, unable to lift a dinner plate and barely able to shuffle along in baby steps. When I was finally able to sit without fear of passing out from the pain, I decided I wasn’t going to sit in the house. I had to get out.
I got into my (straight drive) car and took off. I didn’t care about the pain when I changed gears. I was free! I drove to Lenoir, looking for a bookstore. I didn’t care if people looked at my funny walk. Not finding anything, I took off for Hickory. (At this time, I had moved home to help my little brother and we lived in Hudson/Granite Falls-the middle of the two cities.) For some reason, I went to a Christian bookstore. Not expecting to find anything, I browsed the selections. I found a book about survivors of abuse. It sounded really informative so I held on to it. I found another book on the same topic but, as I looked through it, I thought it seemed simple. It didn’t have the same scholarly/informed feel as the first one….I ended up buying them both.
When I got home, I was exhausted. I took the books to my room and found the most comfortable reading position I could and dove in, expectations high. The first selection, the scholarly one? Sucked. I literally tossed it onto the floor. I picked up the second, more simple one, and was riveted. I read the whole thing, and I came undone.
Living with a twenty year old guy was like living in a frat house. The boys that usually hung out with my brother thought of me as their part time mom/sister/confidant. It was usually great having all that company and laughter around. But that day, I needed privacy, something not usually found in a frat house. They thought nothing of coming into my room, sitting or lying on my bed, and telling me all about their problems, dreams, pain, joy… So, I announced I was taking a shower. (Bathrooms-the last refuge of women everywhere.) I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and sat in the floor, crying.
I was angry and hurt and confused. If what I’d read was true….? So I prayed. Lord, I know I’m not lying in the streets of Calcutta, naked and starving. I’m not dying of AIDS in Africa, starving and orphaned. I had food and shelter. I wasn’t locked in closets and beaten with hammers and made to eat rotten food or drink bleach…but for me, just for me, if what Your Word says is true, where was my angel when all the bad stuff was happening? It says that they always have Your face. Where was my angel?
Immediately, I saw the impression, indentation of a large, invisible hand pressed against a straining angel. My angel, the one I’d seen as a child. He, the angel, had come to collect me, to take me to Heaven. And I heard a voice. The same voice I’d heard before, “No, wait. Leaver her alone. She’ll be okay.”
And that was it. And it was everything. My angel had been watching and he had come for me. He had been told to leave me because I would be okay. It had been real after all.
I’ve looked at death three times as an adult. Now, I knew, I had looked at death as a child…and I was comforted. My angel had seen and was taking me away from all the pain. No one had cared so much before…
As time went by, I began to question the ‘okay.’ Okay? That wasn’t so great, was it? It meant ‘so-so’; not bad, but not great, either. I looked it up in a dictionary. The origins of the word? Two little words that mean ‘all correct.’ I’ll leave that for you to consider…
Cowboy cup in hand, I was walking to the sink to put it away. I could stand on my toes and push it over the edge and get it into the sink all by myself. But, something funny was happening. The sink disappeared. The wall and the window did, too. I could see the trees in Uncle’s pasture. I walked to the edge of the floor and I could see the whole pasture. I felt funny. From the east, a giant angel came. In the air, he stopped in the middle between the two trees. He was beautiful. In one hand, he held a trumpet. With the other, he reached toward me. I began walking to him, stepping off the edge of the floor, into the air, reaching out my own hand.
The angel in charge of the little girl had come to end her pain and prevent much more. He was in the process of guiding her spirit to Heaven when the Master stopped him, physically restraining him by placing His hand on his chest. The angel looked at the Master, who said, “No, wait. Leave her alone. She’ll be okay.” Obediently, the angel guided the young spirit back into her physical body, now lying lifeless on the floor. Hopefully, she wouldn’t remember….
Then, everything went black….
photo from ebay-this is exactly the kind and color of cup I had when I was a child and when this happened…