An Extraordinary Angelic Visitation
I believe that our beloved creator, Great Spirit/All That Is/God has many messengers and some of them are angels. We’ve all read or heard stories of angelic visitations and been inspired by them. Have you ever wondered if angels can and do make contact with people in the modern era of the 21st century? Have you had any personal angelic experiences or known anybody who has? My first introduction to angels was from my grandmother, mamaw, we called her. When we’d spend the night she would always tuck us in bed and sing that song “All night. All day. Angels watching over me, my Lord.”
Her eyes had such a twinkling glow in them that sometimes I wondered if she might even be an earth angel, if such were possible. She did not have a mean bone or streak about her whatsoever. She had a fine sense of humor and she never gossiped. She always managed to find the positive side of whatever experiences life tossed her way. Mamaw was a great believer and lover of angels. She had angel pictures and paraphernalia all over her house and every time I visited I would do my little tour and greet each angel.
So am I surprised that an angel visited me in the back yard when I was thirteen years old? Well, I certainly was when it happened. But looking back over the years I feel that it was all part of my life plan. And now I would like to share the story of that angelic visitation when I was thirteen years old.
The lanky, big eyed, boy cowered in the corner, his hands over his ears, trying to block out the screaming and yelling. The noise died down awhile later. He slowly got up and walked to the door and opened it just a crack. He quickly shut it again as his mother passed by. He shut his eyes, afraid to look. Would it be a black eye, bloody nose, or would she fall down and go unconscious? This had been his fear for so long, that his father would kill her. The bathroom door closed. “At least she’s still alive,” he sighed, rubbing sweat off his forehead. The boy waited until he heard the bathroom door open before looking through the crack again. His mother went into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. A few moments later his father joined her.
The boy quickly put on his only jacket and shoes, grabbed a book then tiptoed out. “Don’t anybody move,” he said, “please God, let it be all clear until I get outside.”
He was met by a crisp breeze which blew the book cover open. It felt a bit too chilly for mid September, but he figured he’d manage to get through a few chapters of The Grapes of Wrath before evening began to set and he had to go back inside. Hopefully then his parents would be passed out, sleeping off the alcohol.
He curled up against the Maple tree near the fence which separated the backyard from the big field in back. He tried to give his full attention to the book, but could not concentrate. So he laid it down and looked up at the clouds. “Well, at least there is church tomorrow and tomorrow night,” he said out loud. “Yippee, I’ll get away from here for a whole day. And next Saturday night is our big gospel singing. That will be fun.” Then a wave of sadness came over him. “It shouldn’t be like this,” he continued, “a kid shouldn’t have to rely on church events to get a little peace of mind. Why do they have to be like this? Will it ever end? I’d like to get away from this place for good. I wish I was old enough to go to college.” He looked at the dancing clouds and tree branches that were blowing. “It must be nicer up there. God, wherever you are up there, it’s got to be better than down here at this crazy house in Shepherdsville, Kentucky.
Then the boy closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Some fifteen minutes later he awoke and his eyes were immediately drawn to a bright light beside the big gas tank on the other side of the yard. “Humh,” he said, “what is that?” There was a golden swirl with silver strands on the edges. It reminded him of those big taffee candies you get at the amusement parks. The swirling slowed until it stopped. What remained was a ball of golden light about the size of a basketball. “I’m dreaming,” he told himself. He shut his eyes but could not keep them closed. When he opened them the ball of light had transformed into a form. The light was brighter now. He had to squint. “Oh, goodness,” he said, “I’m starting to have hallucinations. They’ll take me to the mental hospital the next time mom goes.” He got up and ran around front, hoping his neighbor Daniel might be riding his bicycle down the road. Maybe they could go for a walk in the fields and up the railroad tracks.
There was no trace of Daniel. The boy slowly made his way around back again, realizing he had left his book on the ground. He spotted the book where he left it, and he also noticed the ball of light had not disappeared. “Oh, Jesus,” he cried out, “I’m really losing it.” Then he had a sudden urge to approach the ball of light. His heart pounding, and hands shaking he started walking towards it. “Well, I guess if I’m crazy it won’t matter what I do. I’ll wind up in a loony bin anyhow.” He walked until he was about ten feet from the light then stopped. The chill he had felt was gone. Warmth emanated from this light. He made himself look at it, inwardly hoping that his brothers didn’t get back early and find him standing still staring into space.
The ball unraveled into small strands which darted out in different directions. The boy closed his eyes again and stood there frozen for what seemed at least fifteen minutes. His legs began to ache slightly and he felt stiff, so he took a few steps forward. He opened his eyes and standing before him was the radiant image of what appeared to be an angel. Her hair was long and as gold as the ball of light had been. She wore a snow white robe and her eyes looked silver. She swayed slightly. The boy gaped and put his hand over his mouth, too terrified to run or say anything. He just looked at her. A smile came over her face then she waved her arm in the direction of the big gas tank. She wants me to sit down he thought. He made his way to the tank and jumped up on it as he and his brothers did all the time.
He folded his arms, his eyes never leaving the image. Then he mustered the courage to speak. “Who are you?” he asked softly.
She grinned and looked at him for several moments before speaking. He had the strangest thought that this lady or angel could read his mind.
“I have heard your prayers,” she began softly, as she crossed her hands over her heart. “You have a very tender and good heart, young man. You have many talents and abilities you do not know about yet. You are going to help many people in your lifetime. Let me remind you that God is watching over you as he does all his children. He has many ways to reach and to make contact with each of them. The degree depends upon their faith, capacity, and abilities to receive him. Be open to the many ways that God can reach out to you. I promise you he is already doing so daily.
“He loves all his children equally, and like any parent, there are some he can reach more easily. You are one of these children, a little different from the rest. Although your heart has been wounded by all that you have seen and experienced at home, your spirit is still strong. You hunger to know God and the ways of goodness, and you have faith that you can know and even befriend, God, your Heavenly father. Perhaps this is easier since your earth father gives you little time or attention, and is certainly not the loving, caring father a boy needs to be able to count on and look up to. That you read His Holy Words and talk to Him daily gives him much joy. If only all his children would talk to him like the simple, loving parent that he is.
“You pray with earnestness and expectations. You yearn to get away from your parents and this town and you want to go to college. Though part of you fears you might never get away and find a better life, another part of you dreams and hopes, and more importantly, expects and knows. I am here to strengthen your hopes and to remind you that your dreams are real and that God knows them everyone. He hears you when you tell your friends, “I am going to college. God is going to find me one,” and his face lights up with glee when you add that “it is God’s job to find me a nice college.” That kind of faith and confidence is to be admired by anyone, and more importantly, you must admire and remember your grand faith when you face the obstacles and difficulties that Life presents you with.
“I am here to tell you, dear soul, that your wishes are being granted. You will go to college and you will get away from here. Maybe sooner than you think. You will doubt and even try to deny this visit, but don’t ever forget it. Think of what happened here today when you are feeling low and want to give up, and your faith will be renewed. It will help get you through the trials you will face ahead. I must take leave now.”
Her image slowly began fading. “When you call out to God or think of me you are halfway to heaven. By lifting your sights upward, God can help put you in the right frame of mind and thinking so that the cares of this world cannot break your heart or your spirit. When in the right frame of mind every heartache can be overcome. I believe that you will become your true self and know happiness and joy that few ever achieve. Be patient, dear soul. This will all take time for you to absorb and fully comprehend, but I have total faith and confidence in you. Anyone who talks to God the way you have and demands and expects results deserves a little extra help along the way. Feel free to pass my messages on when the time is right. You are much stronger than you realize, and you are very loved as are all God‘s children,” she whispered, then disappeared.
“Please don’t leave,” he stammered, but she was already gone.
Perhaps needless to say, I was that thirteen year old boy. The angel’s prediction that I would doubt and try to deny her almost immediately came true. I mean, after all, angels do not just appear in your back yard and have a conversation with you. Or do they? More importantly, I think, was her prediction that I would never forget her visit. That one came true as well. And yes, her others all came true. Less than a year later I moved to my first foster home. Five years later I was attending BereaCollege in Berea, Kentucky where I went on to complete my studies in Psychology, Religion and Theology, French, Spanish, German and Voice among other things.
The trials and tribulations did come just as the angel said they would. I struggled with chronic depression, low self-esteem, and other dysfunctional maladies that come from experiencing what I call “a lousy childhood.” And when in the throes of the doldrums, pain, and rage, I have had a tendency to block out and forget anything good that has ever happened. “Out of sight Out of mind” definitely fit me, with one exception: the visit of who I later called “the mystery lady”. This memory is one that I never could forget. When I finally had the nerve to tell some friends about her in college, they teased me and called her “my own private angel.” I tried to tell them that she was not my private angel. She only came to me that one time. I prayed, pleaded, and even pouted, hoping she would pay me another visit, but she never came back.
I do believe in angels, and I believe they watch over us and help in many ways- ways that we are not even aware of. Reach out to them. Let them fill your heart with gladness and hope. Talk to them and perhaps you will have a personal angelic visitation of your own one day. I promise you that your life will never be the same again!
Each day I give humble thanks to God, my angel, and all the people who come into my life. That angelic visitation totally changed my life. I received a very special healing that day. The memory I have carried has sustained and brought me healing and much comfort for more than thirty year. That day I was told and shown that we are never alone. God and the angels work in mysterious ways. We have but to reach out. The call compels the response. Always dare to dream and never give up! Life is for living, not existing!
from Michael Dennis's book Halfway To Heaven