Cheers for those angel messages!

Our first hike in the Sierras a couple of weeks ago had to be aborted.  The very name of our destination, Saucer Lake, just over the ridge, inspired my 11-year old grandson, my good friend, Margaret, and me with eagerness.  The hike started well enough, over granite boulders, through manzanita bushes, across noisy rivulets of snowmelt. 

It had been a late summer in the mountains, though.  As recently as two weeks before our adventure, Echo lake still boasted ice.  As we now ascended, bits of snowfields lurked over parts of the trail.  At first we worked around them, picking up the switchback a few yards further on.  The incline sharpened, the snowfields became broader and increasingly treacherous -- as in steep and slippery, with very hard boulders or worse, cliffs, at their bases.  

A small snowfield -- fun and safe to slide down

I’d begun praying quite earnestly about safety probably half an hour before, when continuing the climb began to feel not right.  It was a humble prayer, just asking God to place each step so that She would be praised by this activity.  Neither did it feel right for Grandma (me) to be the one to say we needed to turn back.  So each time I was tempted, I prayed the more earnestly.

Finally, about 2/3 of the way up, we reached the largest snowfield yet.  We could not see where to pick up the trail on either the right or the left of it. 

Tough love and angels

Boys sledding on President's Day

Thursday was my day for Grandma duty.  As he got out of school, the 12-year old called me at his house where I was fixing dinner. 

“Grandma, can I hang out with Parker?” 

“What does ‘hang out’ mean?”

“You know, just hang out.”

“I need to know where you will be.  ‘Just hang out’ isn’t good enough.  Invite Parker here.”

Silence.  Finally, “All right.  I’ll come home.”

Three minutes later another phone call.  “Grandma, can I go to Parker’s house?”

“Is Parker’s mom there?”

“No, but his brother is.”

“I need an adult I can talk to there.  Invite Parker to come home with you.”

Silence.  Finally, “All right, I’ll come home.”

He came home shortly.  “I have no friends,” he informed me accusingly.  “All the other boys are going over to Parker’s.”  He was not in a mood to listen to anything, so I was quiet.

His younger brother was shooting hoops in the driveway with some buddies.  Today hoops didn’t appeal.  Picking up a baseball and a mitt, he asked, “Can I go across the street to the park?”

“Sure.”  He crossed the street and I watched out a window as he slammed the ball into the soft earth at his feet, repeatedly.  Clearly some prayer was needed.  Turning away, I reached out to our dear Father-Mother.  “What do you know about this boy right now?”  The answer that came was, “He has his own angels.” 

Of course!  I didn’t have to sort all this out.  God was already being God, already communicating to every one of Her children.  Telling each one of their worth, their purpose, showing Her love in tangible ways.  I prayed for some minutes until I could rest in the assurance of the angels, God’s very own thoughts, doing their communicating.

My grandson walked in the door just as dinner was ready.  “I found someone to play with,” he said in a pleased tone.  “He was a third grader, but that was OK.”  He stopped short of saying he'd had fun.

“Oh thank you, dear Mother-Father God!” quietly and to myself.

There’s more.  The other grandma, who was with the boys the following day, and was aware of Thursday's events, added this.

“After school I asked him if he wanted to invite Parker over.  He said, ‘Parker’s grounded.  He had all these boys over yesterday, and he wasn’t supposed to.’ “

Sweet!  Apparently Parker and his parents have their angels as well.

Finding Christmas purity

Christmas makes me feel pure.  True, I’ve backed away from nearly all gift exchanges, i.e. commercialism, and that helps immensely.

It begins, perhaps, with Mary’s purity.  Pregnant outside marriage -- a sin worthy of stoning in her culture.  She was comforted only by the angel, Gabriel,  bringing a message of hope and promise.  And dear Joseph.  What’s a fiance to do?  He must have been terribly troubled with unanswered questions -- who has Mary been fooling around with?  Why?  How can I prevent her being put to death by the village? -- until the same angel, Gabriel, brought him in on “the plan.”

So the unwed couple understood at least something of the larger picture as they lived and worked under the accusing eyes of their families and neighbors.

I think of the purity of that night when Mary gave birth in the cave-stable among the warm and gentle animals -- secluded from the hustle and bustle of the Roman census crowds.  It was Rome’s counting of its populace which had brought Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem.

I think of the purity of the shepherds who were tending their sleeping herds on that chill night.  They didn’t argue with their angel messenger that something wondrous was taking place in a cave-stable in the nearby town.  They ran to see.

Then there were the kings, or wise men, riding their camels for weeks or months.  They had to have a purity of focus to stay the course, following a star -- of all things!

And all this purity came together, in due time, to celebrate Christ here and present.

May the spiritual innocence and joy of genuine Christmas be yours -- all year.

Tradition has Mary riding a little donkey like this one.

Doing the right thing

Chicago transportation - many alternatives

Today I attended an all-day seminar on “The Social Media Revolution.” Very cool insights on the role of blogs and podcasts within an organization.

But that’s not what this piece is about. This is about doing the right things.

I had learned through an email that Bill was signed up for this seminar too and, amazingly, he lives not far from me. I don’t get excited about driving into Chicago, especially during rush hours. Bill had received the same email, so, "Aha," I thought, "Perhaps he’ll offer to drive."

He didn’t. Two days before the meeting it occurred to me to offer him a ride (and then maybe he would offer to drive). Since I’m trying really hard to listen to what I call “angel messages,” those intuitions from God that guide us safely and wisely, I emailed Bill and offered to pick him up.

He accepted – but did not offer to drive. In fact, he needed a ride. It turns out that he is very familiar with side streets into and out of Chicago, and he had a great route for us that avoided the gridlock of the expressways. Because of his newspaper writing background, he shared a wealth of Chicago history unknown to most folks.

He also told me about parking at Midway Airport's CTA lot and taking the Orange line into the city – something he has done often. I was grateful to learn about this practical alternative.

From time to time I’ve noticed that God helps me do the right things – in this case taking the initiative to offer Bill a ride -- in spite of my own line of (well, yes, sometimes self-centered) reasoning.

Speaking of doing right things, I remember hearing how my grandfather came upon a car accident beside the road. Think 1930s. He stopped to help and discovered someone pinned underneath. He should not have been able to physically do this, but Walter was able to lift the car, so the injured person could be pulled to safety.

As I see it, there’s a lot God can do with an honest heart.

Do not forget that an honest, wise zeal,
a lowly, triumphant trust, a true heart,
and a helping hand constitute man,
and nothing less is man or woman.
Mary Baker Eddy

Trusting your intuitions

Kids listening

Ever have a strong feeling that you ought to be doing something, and you don’t know why?

Rob’s a contractor and he was on his way to a condo association for an appointment. This cold winter day, he decided to use the rear entrance, past piles of plowed snow, past the pool, past the equipment shed. He would just make it on time.

Then he thought he saw someone out of the corner of his eye but, looking back, he saw no one. A few yards later he stopped, put his truck in reverse and drove back to that spot. Nothing. He was about to go forward again, but something just wouldn’t let him. Rob backed up further and then saw someone face down in the snow next to the pool.

He jumped out of the truck, leaped over the pool fence and kneeled and spoke to her. No response. Turning her over gently, he recognized her as a board member. He immediately called the man with whom he had the appointment and told him this woman needed help.

Meanwhile she briefly regained consciousness. She looked at Rob and asked, “Are you an angel?” “No,” he smiled, “I’m Rob.” She told him of a medical condition, which he was able to relay to the paramedics who soon arrived.

I guess Rob went on to his appointment then. His mom didn’t say. But something special had happened to, and within, Rob that day. When he called his mom to share this special experience, his conclusion was, “Mom, I listened!”

She understood. They both believe in angel messages, good thoughts from God that keep us safe, happy, useful, and helpful. Rob was thrilled to feel he had really heard an angel message, and he had paid attention -- even without knowing why.

That’s what thrilled him. He didn’t know why God was sending him back to the pool, and it didn’t matter. Because he moved with his intuition, he had been instrumental in helping this woman.

I believe God is constantly giving us angel thoughts, and we all have the ability to hear and move with those good ideas. They aren’t hard to identify, because they are usually unselfish and will help someone else. And as we move with them -- willing to give whatever we have -- like Rob, we feel a quiet thrill of affirmation.

Good Samartian story

Good luck - where does it come from?

It's true, I’m a little bit behind. The latest and final story in the Harry Potter series hits the bookstores in July, and I realized I hadn’t read the Half-Blood Prince yet -- the previous installment.

The Harry Potter books chronicle a young person’s involvement in the good vs. evil battle. From Harry’s "Potions" class comes our topic for today-- the good luck potion. If someone drinks just a little, everything will go exactly right for them for several hours. It turns out in practice that what the brew does is allow Harry to listen to his intuitions and follow them with confidence. As I see it, the effect of the potion had less to do with luck, and more to do with listening and following.

For me, luck has little to do with life. Life is about making decisions, preferably good ones. Which brings us to the incredible ability God has given each of us to listen to and trust our own intuitions. What if we define intuitions as angel thoughts from God, coming to us with good ideas?

Then how do we know if an idea is an intuition from God, or just a random thought running through our heads? For me it helps if I’ve asked God for an answer to something (big or little), then the intuitive answer has a clear relationship with the question. And I’ve found that usually intuitions can be identified because they are unselfish, generous, may require a change of plans, or just seem like the right thing to do, even if not convenient.

Like the hero of the kids’ series, we need to listen to our intuitions, and trust them in order to follow them confidently.

Angels. God's thoughts passing to man;

spiritual intuitions, pure and perfect;
the inspiration of goodness, purity, and immortality,
counteracting all evil, sensuality, and mortality.

Mary Baker Eddy

See also: Angels according to kids

Abou Ben Adam revisited

When all is said and done, the important question is, how well have we loved our fellow man? Not how well were we loved, but how well have we loved. Surely we all know someone who is generous and kind, and asks little in return.

I suggest you read the short poem below, twice. First just to appreciate the message. The second time, substitute your friend (or relative’s) name wherever you see Abou Ben Adam’s. The poem becomes a fitting tribute to your friend.

And beyond this small opportunity to praise a special friend, it can be a reminder to emulate some of that grace and generosity and thoughtfulness that you admire in them. And while this may seem a small gesture, it counts. You will have honored your friend, and you will have made the world a little better place because you're here.

Abou Ben Adam
By Leigh Hunt
Abou Ben Adam (may his tribe increase!)

awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw, within the moonlight of his room,

Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

an angel, writing in a book of of gold.

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adam bold,

And to the Presence in the room he said:

"What writest thou?" The vision raised its head,

And, with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."

"And is mine one?" said Abou, "Nay, not so,"

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerily still, and said, "I pray thee, then,

Write me as one who loves his fellow men."

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again, with a great awakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blest,

And lo! Ben Adam's name led all the rest.

Easter -- He is risen!

The angel rolled away the stone and sat on it!


May the angels cherishing your life purpose

roll away the stones of anxiety, sorrow, and misunderstanding

from the door of your faith and hope,

and point you in a new direction.

Related posts: He is Risen!
Celebrating Easter (see April 8)

Good happens immeasurably!

Do things happen in threes?

In Clint Eastwood’s recent excellent film, “Letters from Iwo Jima,” a young Japanese soldier tells his commander that the commander has twice saved his life. The commander smiles and remarks that things happen in threes. And he soon saves the boy’s life again. The young soldier is one of the few Japanese survivors of Iwo Jima.

While this makes fine drama, I’m not all that happy with the premise of things happening in threes. For one thing, it’s superstitious and carelessly submits to a capricious fate. For another, it’s not at all pleasant to contemplate when the “things” that might happen are bad things. One keeps waiting for, even expecting, the third bad thing.

As to good things happening in threes, well I've thought about that too. I believe with all my being that God, that higher power who created the universe, is wholly good. And that He expresses Himself/Herself in goodness, intelligence, and beauty. And that ceaseless outpouring of the divine nature in our human experience is not limited to tidy little clusters of three good things here, or three good happenings there. Three is too tiny when we’re talking about universal good.

Since Easter is this Sunday, it might be worthwhile to think about three in another context – Jesus’ three days in the tomb. At the end of those three days, his biographies say, an angel rolled away the stone and sat on it. Don’t you love it? Sat on it. “So much for you, big, tough, rock. You cannot bury Christ in a cave.” So Jesus walked out. What was he doing in that cave for three days? Recommitting to Life? Re-forgiving his enemies? Recommitting to strengthening his badly shaken disciples?

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“Jesus' three days' work in the sepulchre
set the seal of eternity on time. He proved Life to be deathless
and Love to be the master of hate.”
Mary Baker Eddy
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So maybe it's OK to ask, what could I accomplish in three spiritually focused days? Long silence.

The best I know how to do right now, is one day at a time. And to seek out the good in each day, and participate in it, with as much attention to seeing things through God's loving eyes, as I know how. And to value the good in each day, and thank the Creator for it.

Angels - according to kids

On the lighter side, here are kid comments about angels. So enjoy a good smile. And when you get to the bottom, click on Comments and share your own special angel thoughts or angel experiences.

• I only know the names of two angels. Hark and Harold. Gregory, 5
• Everybody's got it all wrong. Angels don't wear halos anymore. I forget why, but scientists are working on it. Olive, 9
• It's not easy to become an angel! First, you die. Then you go to heaven, then there's still the flight training to go through. And then you got to agree to wear those angel clothes. Matthew, 9
• Angels work for God and watch over kids when God has to go do something else. Mitchell, 7
• My guardian angel helps me with math, but he's not much good for science. Henry, 8
• Angels don't eat, but they drink milk from holy cows. Jack, 6
• Angels live in cloud houses made by God and his son, who's a very good carpenter. Jared , 8
• All angels are girls because they gotta wear dresses and boys didn't go for it. Antonio, 9
• My angel is my grandma who died last year. She got a big head start on helping me while she was still down here on earth. Katelynn, 9
• Some of the angels are in charge of helping heal sick animals and pets. And if they don't make the animals get better, they help the kid get over it. Vicki, 8

And here is Eddy's perspective, “Angels are God's representatives. These upward-soaring beings never lead towards self, sin, or materiality, but guide to the divine Principle of all good, whither every real individuality, image, or likeness of God, gathers. By giving earnest heed to these spiritual guides they tarry with us, and we entertain ‘angels unawares.’" (Science and Health)

What are angels to you? What are your angel experiences? Click on Comments below.