I sometimes see her–catch glimpses in the mirror as I am readying myself for the day. She is but a shadow, a flow of light moving on the periphery. She catches my eye and my breathing stills; heart skips a beat. But when I turn around to greet her, she is gone.

She leaves behind a filmy presence–assurance, comfort.
I know she is there. I feel her presence just as surely as her breath fanning on back of my neck.
Jeffrey feels her presence too. It fills him with dread.
“Mom, is the blanket lighter in that one spot? Do you see it?”
It’s time for the tucking in and we are snuggled together in the dark. I see the shadow he talks about…the light from the street outside shimmers in, illuminating tiny spot.
I hear the fear in his voice, know that when I leave he will pull the covers over his head and sleep this way…cocooned–mummified by fear.
“Do you know the angel of the Lord is here with you? The Bible says, ‘The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him’”.
I pull him close and breathe courage into his skin.
I am scared, he says. And I think it takes courage to say this too.
A long time ago, someone read to me Matthew 18:10.
“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.”
This scripture comforted me as a lonely child…spoke to me a belief in guardian angels. When I was older, I studied the book of Daniel. My belief was strengthened. For, the angel tells Daniel about Michael–the archangel who is the protector of Israel.
Could it be that each nation has an angel-protector? And, if so, is it possible that each person does too?
The Lord says He knows when a sparrow falls from the sky–that I am worth more than many sparrows. He tells me He knows the number of hairs on my head…that He collects my tears in a bottle.

I do not understand the ways of the Lord. I know that Jesus lives in me, I know He is always with me.  I do not think He needs help to do His work…but maybe He sends us comfort through these creatures.

I tell Jeffrey these things. I whisper the constant presence of Jesus over him in the dark with shadows dancing all around.
“He is always with you,” I say.
“But I don’t feel Him,” he responds, near tears.
You have to see with eyes of faith, I tell him. And I tell the story of Elisha, and the chariots of fire. How he and his servant were surrounded by an army from the King of Aram. Elisha told his servant, “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”
The servant was confused. So Elisha prayed for the Lord to open his eyes. When the servant’s eyes were opened, he saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire.
I feel Jeffrey’s body as I tell this story. I remind him (for we’ve had this discussion before) that there are many things we do not see with our weak eyes. But when we look with eyes of faith, we are reminded of the great power of our God and how much He loves us.
My son is quiet as I finish my tale. He is drifting off to sleep in the arms of his mamma. But it is the Hand of God that will hold him tonight.
When I check on him later I see his face. It is not under the covers as it is on other nights before. His lashes rest on cheeks that I remember as round and full–baby cheeks. As I kneel at his bedside, a shaft of light flows like water across his face.
“Hello,” I whisper. “All angels of Jesus Christ are welcome here.”
Guard him well.

This Morning I Wondered

This morning I wondered
as I watched the birds
through my window–
savored that first sip
of coffee…
Did the earth
the day
was born?
When His
first cries pierced
the air
was there a long
A sharp
Did all of nature
And did the rocks
cry out?
On this bleak
Winter Solstice morning,
As earth turns her
from light
and darkness descends…
I hold on
to this
this twinkling thought:
that all of earth knew
except us.