For He shall give Hs angels charge over thee…—Psalm 91:11
I was talking to my poet friend Paula about my apartment, which has been home for some 23 years. They have been, on the whole, good years in a place where I’ve always felt a sense of security.
“You probably have a good angel looking after you,” said she.
“Angels,” I scoffed. “Don’t talk to me about angels.”
“You don’t believe in them?”
“It’s just that everybody is seeing them these days. It’s like an epidemic. Okay, I know what the Bible says—they’re real—but never having seen one myself, it’s hard for me to believe in them.”
“Oh,” she said, “is it like your faith? You need evidence of something ‘seen’?”
“Don’t be smart,” I said.
Not too long after that conversation, I had an appointment and crossed the street to my bus stop. As I stood there waiting, my eyes roamed over the facade of my apartment building. It’s a large, prewar structure with some fanciful towers and a generous amount of ornate decoration. I found the windows of my second-floor apartment and the air conditioner for my bedroom and …
For the first time in 23 years, I noticed a head peering over the air conditioner, its wings spread neatly behind it, a figure carved in stone—an angel.
Father, you are full of surprises, but I’m going to read your Word more carefully to minimize them.
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