It is amazing when someone appears and holds you. The simple touch of a hand on yours, a hug around the shoulder, a look of concern into your eyes, can make a significant calming and grounding impact.
It can’t take away the calamity but it reminds you that you do not walk alone.
I can think of three times when an angel showed up in my life. The first time was a stranger and the other two happened to be someone I knew who just happened to be there at the moment when a familiar face and love helped me through. Today was the third time and my angel…and the incident…will remain private but know I am okay.
Here is my story about the first angel I wrote as part of a life stories class.
“I seen you heh now for two days. Whaz happ’n?”
I glanced up from the book which had meaningless gibberish in front of me to look into the concerned eyes of the cleaning lady assigned to the 11th floor at Vanderbilt Medical Center.
“My husband had a stroke during an operation for a brain tumor a couple of days ago. He’s in a coma in the ICU and they are surprised he is still alive“ I shared, managing to keep the sobs quieted for the moment.
Immediately she grabbed my hand. “Whachoo prayin’ for?”
Surprised at her question, I stammered, “I guess I’m praying for strength.”
“What for?” was her immediate response.
“To deal with whatever happens.”
“Oh no, Baby, don’t you pray for strength!”
“No! You pray for strength and He gonna give it to you. He gonna send you all kind of troubles to show you He send you strength,”
That was logic I had not considered. “Oh….. But what should I pray for?”
“You tell Him you done had enough!”
“I can do that?”
“You can do that!”
Thinking of the tons of prayer books that are part and parcel of any religion, “Is there a special prayer to make, any special words I should say?”
“Oh no, Baby, “she smiled. “He knows ALL the words.” With that, she released my hand and patted it, smiled and wandered off to clean.
The day continued with two more permitted half hour visits inside the Neuro Intensive Care Unit. Problems were still popping up and while the doctors and the nurse tried to put a positive spin on the situation, it was apparent that Dave was still very fragile.
I left the hospital around 10p.m. to get to Sam’s babysitter before they headed to bed. As I drove down I-24 I decided to open the car window, I suppose to really let my words out.
“Okay! So what the hell is going on? This is too much! I want it to stop! I need him to get better! You’re the one in charge here. Do the right thing!”
I got to the babysitters’ house, picked up my sleeping 15-month-old and somehow got him into his car seat without waking him. Got him home and into his crib, and then listened to the messages on the telephone answering machine. I left a new outgoing message to update people when they called the next day and I would be out, and then headed to bed, exhausted.
The next day, nothing bad happened.
The day after that, Dave woke up.
By the way, I never saw that cleaning lady again.
It seems that almost all religions have prescribed ways to speak words to God. It also seems that most disagree. So what is recognized as prayer at one church is completely different at another.
And yet, if I accept the concept that God is everywhere and knows everything, why not use any words I want to say? He does, after all, know all the words.
I believe meeting this Angel who taught me a life lesson supported my concept that I need not go to a certain building to read certain words lead by a specific leader.
Prayer and thoughtful discussion with my Higher Power can and does take place anywhere, anytime, with a varied choice of communication techniques.
The important aspect is how involved you and your heart are in that prayer, not the words said.