October 16, 2008

• An angel of our very own

  Ever since I was a little girl, I've been a big believer in guardian angels.
  When
  I was about seven, I took catechism classes at the Navy chapel at
  Whidbey Island, Wash., to prepare me for making my First Holy
  Communion. My Methodist Mama fell in love with one of the prayers we
  had to learn, and she helped me memorize it. It's called "Prayer to My
  Guardian Angel":
  "Oh, angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's
  love commits me here. Ever this day be at my side, to light and guard,
  to rule and guide."
  If I was ever scared of the dark at bedtime, or
  worried and fearful, Mama would say, "Just say your prayer to your
  guardian angel, Baby, and you'll feel better."
  And I did. It made me
  feel safe to know that my heavenly Father had sent a special angel to
  keep watch over me, especially since my own Navy pilot Daddy was often
  on the other side of the world.
  I don't think these guardian angels
  of ours are tame little Valentine's Day cherubs. I think they're
  strong, shining warriors who would fill us with awe if we could see
  them, like the angel Gabriel who came to Mary to tell her she was going
  to bear the Messiah.
  Long ago, I memorized a verse about angels that
  has often comforted me: "He will give His angels charge concerning you,
  to guard you in all your ways. They will bear you up in their hands,
  that you do not strike your foot against a stone."
  I've always liked
  the thought that the Father sends out His angels to protect us on His
  behalf. Sort of like having our own heavenly Secret Service contingent
  on the job.
  As a mother, I've often prayed that God would send His
  angels out to protect my boys from harm and from evil. When they first
  learned to walk, when they started kindergarten, when they got their
  driver's licenses, when they went away to college, when they moved far
  away from home. And now that my younger son has just bought a
  motorcycle, which scares me to death, I'm redoubling those prayers.
  Knowing her children have guardian angels on duty is very comforting to
  a mother, even when those children have grown up.
  In a recent class
  at church we talked about guardian angels. One of the Scripture
  references about them is that verse in Matthew that says, "See that you
  do not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell you that their
  angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven."
  For
  more than a thousand years, our church has been teaching that every
  person on earth has their own guardian angel, whose job is to watch
  over us and guide us — to guide us to good thoughts and good works, and
  to protect us from evil.
  Way back in the fourth century, St. Jerome
  said, "How great is the dignity of the soul, since each one has from
  his birth an angel commissioned to guard it."
  Your own church might
  not share that exact belief, but to me it's such a reassuring thought,
  that every single one of us has our very own angel, one especially
  assigned to us personally, ever since we were babies.
  

  Over this past
  weekend, I had the joy of getting to rock my dear friend's grandbaby.
  Little Addie is just four weeks old, and she still smells new. I sat in
  a wooden rocking chair, surrounded by a warm, loving circle made up of
  Addie's mama and aunt and grandmother and two great-grandmothers and
  some close friends, and had the best time holding that snuggly, tiny
  girl as she slept against my shoulder, with her feather-soft brown hair
  brushing against my cheek.
  

  In light of all the thinking I've been
  doing about angels lately, I couldn't help but think about how amazing
  and wonderful it is that this precious little girl has her very own
  reliable angel already on the job, standing guard over her, looking
  after her, protecting her from evil.
  I pray for our tiny unborn
  grandson blooming in his Mama's tummy in Florida, and wonder if his
  angel is already on duty. I hope so.
  I've heard stories about people
  having encounters with God's angelic messengers — encounters that have
  saved them from harm, or brought them great peace.
  My own grandmother Poppy told me about something that happened to her that might have been an encounter with an angel.
  When
  her only son, my Uncle Walter, was off fighting in the Korean War, my
  grandmother was worried to death about him, really worrying herself
  sick over the chance that her child might be wounded or killed.
  Years ago, Poppy told the story to me something like this:
  "When
  Walter was over fighting in Korea, I just worried and worried and
  grieved over him so much that I was just about to lose my mind. And
  I'll never forget what happened one night. I was in my room by myself,
  praying for Walter, and crying, when I felt a big, warm hand gently
  laid on my shoulder. I couldn't see anybody there, but I wasn't scared.
  And it was like I could hear these words in my heart: 'Polly, I want
  you to stop making yourself sick, worrying over your son. Walter's
  going to be all right. He's going to come home.' And I knew it was
  true, and I never forgot it. And always after that, I had peace in my
  heart and I knew my child was going to come home."
  And he did.
  What a loving, priceless gift for our Father to give us — an angel of our very own.

  By Celia DeWoody
  Copyright 2008 Harrison (Ark.) Daily Times
  

  
  

  
  
  

  • 9:08 am
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