Thursday, 19 February 2009
Some people believe in angels; others don't. The Bible says they exist, but I've never seen a heavenly choir or Gabriel's wings or even a plump little, arrow-throwing cherub. I don't know if I have a guardian angel hovering over my shoulder. But I have learned that angels are more common than one might think.
I spent my Valentine's day by sleeping through half of it. That's all I really cared to do--my Valentine is across the state, and while we were together last weekend, I still couldn't help feeling sad when looking at so many happy couples celebrating love. I finally decided that I should buy some new colors of yarn and walked to the bus stop to wait for the elusive bus never, ever comes when you want it to be there. It's also always very crowded, so I decided I'd have a better chance of getting a seat if I walked up to an earlier bus stop.
On my way, I started counting the number of couples walking past me. It seemed like everyone had a match, and it hurt to be alone. But there was one young man who also walked by himself. He was holding a bouquet of pink roses--for his sweetheart, I thought to myself. As we passed, I smiled, and he smiled back. And then he handed me one of those pink roses. "Happy Valentine's day," he said, as he kept walking. Somehow, I managed to get out a "thank you" before walking to the bus, faith regained in the presence of not just eros, but agape love in this world.
How could he have known that I was upset just then? How could he have known that that was the exact thing I needed at that moment?
Maybe he was a heavenly angel, wings carefully tucked under his winter coat. But maybe he was just another child like you and me. I don't think this young man realized that he was an angel to me on Saturday. God chose to use him, though, and that's what matters.
The more I open my eyes to Him, the more I see God everywhere. Perhaps science can explain something--it can still be a miracle. Perhaps he was just a nice boy with good motives, but maybe God was using him to be an angel, too. Every morning, there is a sunrise, but it is only as beautiful as you allow yourself to think it is.
Has God ever sent you an angel, or even used you as one?