It was 5:55 pm and pitch black outside. With our evening meal prepared, I gathered up the kids and proceeded out into the wind and snow. This time, the kids included my son Riley and his long-time friend, Taytem. In typical Riley fashion, he insisted that he could not find his snow pants and wouldn’t need them anyway. As we approached the whirling snow in the open field, I noticed my son had his hands tucked up into his coat sleeves. “Where are you mitts?” I demanded. Alas, they too were back in the warmth of our home.
Handing off my flashlight to a cold and shivering ten-year old, I told Taytem that he and I could continue on alone. “Call on Archangel Michael to surround him with protective light, and he’ll be just fine.” I told my young companion when he turned to watch his friend walk away in the dark. I feel it was all the little guy could do to keep up to my pace as I pushed onward.
Was I scared to send my son off alone in the darkness? Momentarily, yes. But in my mind I saw Riley surrounded in a light much brighter than that cast from my flashlight. I knew the angels were guiding him safely home. Although my son quickly disappeared into the night, I could see him walking toward me casting a warm glow across the field.
Mike, Katie, and Harry were ready to go as soon as Taytem and I arrived. This time, the walk home turned into playtime for the children as my daughter and her friend happily ran ahead. In the quiet of the early evening, I broke the news to Mike that our good friend, my transplant brother Demetrios was back in hospital with further complications and another heart surgery pending. Having spoken to his wife Maria earlier that day, she informed me that Demetrios was, as always, in good hands.
“Look!” Taytem yelled, turning back to face Mike and I while we were in quiet discussion. “Riley’s coming!” Just as I had seen in my mind, the glow of my flashlight illuminated the field ahead as my son, now bundled in his winter wear, made his way towards us. Arriving home a few minutes later, Mike and I laughed when Harry ran directly to the back door and begged to go out.
“Didn’t you get enough of the snow?” I asked him, scratching his furry wet head.
“Don’t let him out!” Mike warned. “There must be something on our deck. Look at the cats.” Sure enough, both cats were sniffing around the door seeking their own way out into the cold windy night. Grabbing our trusty flashlight, it didn’t take Mike long to discover that a possum had taken up residence on our back deck! Memories of my life in New Zealand came flooding back. One part of me wanted to help the obviously cold and frightened creature. The other part of me knew that he would help himself to a chunk of my skin, one of our pets, and the comfort of our tidy home given half a chance.
“Talk to Ariel,” came the advise from my farming friend and co-illustrator of Angel Thinking, Antje. Truth is, I was talking to Ariel. I was talking to her about the possum and our other animals. Problem was, I am not so sure how much I was listening to her response. Thanks to a beautiful reminder from a beautiful soul, I began to do just that.
Acting upon advice given at a conference by Cheryl Richardson, I opened the slider door, and spoke gently to the animal. “You are safe, and you are loved,” I told him. “You need to go somewhere that you can find food and warmth. This is not that place. Be safe my friend.” I thanked Ariel for watching over our possum friend. Telling myself he would soon leave our deck to safely find warmth elsewhere, I closed the door and let it go. Mike thought I was nuts, but he did tell me that the possum would be fine and gone by morning. He was right. As the dawn broke, our possum friend had departed.
On the heels of discovering the possum gone, Demetrios text messaged to tell me that he had been diagnosed with yet another infection. While the text message was at first glance frightening, Demetrios finished it by telling me that he had been reading Angel Thinking, and in his dreams saw himself with his new baby boy surrounded by the light of the angels. “Everything is going to be okay,” he told me later when we spoke.
Sometimes the challenge brings the miracle. In each of these examples, the miracle is renewed faith. The same is so each time doubt creeps in about getting my message out into the world. “We are with you,” I hear the angels whisper, and before I know it, an email, a text, or some other form of communication arrives to tell me that I am getting my message out there. For those who have already had the opportunity to read Angel Thinking, I ask that you work with me to create this miracle of healing by sending out your own communications of support for the book and my program. A review at Amazon.com would be helpful, or simply a mention on Facebook, twitter, or any other social media site you may choose to use. Together we can create a miracle of oneness amongst us all, one comment, one step, one book, and one program at a time.