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ANGELS AROUND ME

Story ID:4640
Written by:Kathe M. Campbell (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Musings, Essays and Such
Location:Broken Tree Ranch Montana USA
Year:2009
Person:Kath
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ANGELS AROUND ME

ANGELS AROUND ME

ANGELS AROUND ME

ANGELS AROUND ME

ANGELS AROUND ME

Angels Around Me
by Kathe Campbell

If the sight of blue skies fill you with joy - if wild flowers springing up from the meadow have the power to move you - if the simple things in nature have a message you understand -- Rejoice, for your soul is alive.

My soul is alive alright, for the older I become, the more sensitive I am to everything around me. There is less to distract me, and I have time to reflect and lavish my soul with God's creations. For every blade of grass, for every being, certain spirits are sometimes needed to bend low, encouraging life and growth. Surely these must be angels.

I never thought much about angelic encounters as a young person, but oft times it takes a good smack to jolt us when all seems lost. Other times we are awakened to something so wonderful, we can hardly wait to experience it again. These sweet angels are sent to us as heralds from God's heart, for the word 'angel' means messenger.

God is the creator of so many things seen and unseen. They come alone, in pairs, and even in bands celebrating new life and joys, comforting worries, sorrows, pain, and even near death.

Have you ever welcomed a sudden breath of fresh air; the winds playing with your hair, whistling tiny storms that blow away your cares; a warming soft touch upon your shoulder; even a penetrating feeling of warning to halt you in your tracks? I ponder these things often knowing that God's angels are keeping me from the brink of my three dees - disaster, despair, and depression.

Spiritual hunger in my life is awake, and I love talking with others who have received God's angelic offerings, for there are trillions of captivating stories out there. I can ferret out events where angels have taken charge of my own good and bad fortunes. My simple prayers beckon them, for when I seek an angel with an open heart, I can usually find one.

It could have only been a band of angels that delivered a cooling breeze and helped me safely home one terrible, hot day. Holding the grisly remnants of my arm close, a feeling of utter relief swept over me as my life spilled red upon the earth. Mercifully, shock overtook the fury of the day, for I felt no pain and began cajoling myself into thinking I could steer an even course across the yard. With head reeling and knees buckling, I staggered onto our deck, opened the storm door, and collapsed. If my family angels hadn't intervened, the surgeon would have amputated at the elbow.

Mortal angels from extraordinary places encouraged my fight in a distant hospital where I spent time reflecting upon my near demise. Family and friends traveled far to spur me on, pastors became lifelong friends, crippled and broken souls urged prosthetics, even my doctor's sweet children visited on Sunday mornings. Today my old body serves me well as I coddle the remnants left by a beast that gnawed away a goodly part of me and my dominant right arm. It comforts me to know that some of us harbor angels with only one wing so they can fly by embracing one another.

What angels did ages ago is not so different from what they do today. They drive cars and use the internet, and still witness hatred and wars, but calm us when we are afraid, and still send us messages when we are desperate. They pull us out of physical danger and influence our dreams and our senses in order to help us do what we need to do, and go where we need to go. Best of all, angels help our prayers do Godís will, for together we can bring Godís kingdom to life in the here and now.

I was never one to go to the Lord in prayer for miniscule reasons. My prayers were saved for the big stuff in hospital chapels for the safe return of my husband. I brazenly summoned the angels who had encouraged my battle, and prayed for them to again shed their glorious healing light. One time pop's phoned me in the wee hours stating a tiny boy was seated beside his bed holding a bouquet of his favorite heather. A nameless small pot of fragrant heather was gracing his night table at dawn. Was the child our angelic unborn son?

Why do we need angels? The answer is so basic and simple. God uses angels because we are not always ready or willing to face Him directly. We speak of Jesus as being our savior, and of God being our father. But for some, Godís glory is so beyond us, so He sent his son to help us relate. And sometimes even Jesus is so beyond comprehension, we sometimes need an angel to lift us up and help us on our way.

The scriptures say volumes about angels, that we will eventually be like them ourselves. We are being prepared to exist as redeemed souls in the realms of heaven, so it's not surprising that we allow angelic spirits into our lives. It excites me to know that one day I might bend low over a wild flower to help it blossom -- or could I be a single-winged angelic spirit to gently soothe some dear soul?

Though tomorrow isn't promised, and it's not my call, I remain content with great expectations.