Angels in the Midst

by | Jun 4, 1999 | Angels, God's Hands, Helping, New Life, Spiritual Growth

Christmas is our favorite season. We begin decorating the day after Thanksgiving, each year, with old and new decorations, leading to our manger scene. We love angel figurines, and have them throughout the house, especially during the holy season.

One thing was missing last Christmas – my husband’s enthusiasm. The trauma we faced was about to unfold, but despite this becoming his second surgery in fifteen years, God’s forces were not to permit such devastation because unknown to us, angels were about to surround us, angels were in the midst.

My husband went for a routine check up, having had “indigestion”, for months. Not long after he left home for an evening doctor’s appointment, my telephone rang. Panic was in his voice, as he said, “I’m being taken to the emergency room, downtown. You need to get the car from the doctor’s parking lot, so you will have transportation. Don’t leave the house until I have called you, because I am unsure which hospital will be admitting me.” I tried desperately to sound calm, reassuring him I would do as he said, and would be waiting for his call. Panic struck me as I hung up, but a peace transcended that barrier as I prayed for strength, and for him to survive.

I recovered the car. After having an angioplasty, he was told bi-pass surgery was needed, immediately. I could feel a knot in the pit of my stomach. He was older, and I prayed he had the strength to survive the surgery.

For the next ten days, my life would be transformed. I drove the same road, crossed the perpendicular streets leading me to his hospital, where he lay critically, after the bi-pass surgery. His heart was beating irregularly, the medication was not controlling it. He could not be moved from intensive care, where body after body was being wheeled in for similar surgery, which I feared would add to the trauma he was facing, once he was conscious, as I observed this activity, sitting by his side, daily, waiting for his eyes to open for him to know I was there. It took time for him to recall what was going on once he did. I was relieved when he was finally moved into his private room, recovering.

The area where the hospital was was foreign to me. Never had I driven there, and the streets were a mixture of “old” with the “new”, laid out without rhyme or reason. I thanked God that the main street to the hospital was in a straight line unlike those curving leading to perpendicular ones, onto which I needed to cross, before arriving and departing from the hospital, timely, and safely.

Overly concerned about his ongoing critical condition, I began losing my focus after arriving home, continuous nights as the dawn drew me to another day’s obligations, with little if any sleep, at all. I found comfort in calling his attending nurse to ask how he was, what few hours allowed me respite. So it was unusual for me to get four hours’ sleep, which proved to be threatening, as the days went on.

Our Christmas decorations were still on display, the weather, treacherous, especially driving conditions. I drove only when absolutely necessary, my unfamiliarity with the outskirts of our suburbs became intimidating as night descended. Dusk became alarming to me. Not having a choice one evening, I challenged it.

Our month’s bills needed to be sent out, but my husband usually managed them. Once he was out of danger, and moved into his room, he reminded me to send them out.

When I arrived home one evening, I found I only had three stamps. I attached them to the bills, and reminded myself that I needed to buy a stamp book.

The next day, I decided to return to the hospital to spend the night with him, because he wasn’t eating hospital meals. I stopped by a grocery store to buy a few items to snack on, since the hospital had no restaurant, and those around it were too far away. The first thing the clerk asked me as I placed my items on the counter was, “Would you like to buy a book of stamps?’ I was to recall this much later.

I left the hospital as dusk ascended that day, after seeing my husband progressing, eating, talking, ensuring care of his immediate needs were being monitored, consistently by the nursing staff accommodating him.

It had rained, so the streets were slippery, and it was foggy. I began driving home on the “same street” I believed had been bringing me to and from the hospital, until the road darkened, and there were no lights, buildings, houses, landmarks, after driving a considerable distance from the hospital. I suddenly became frightened, wondering where I was, and how I would find my way with no direction in sight. Then, I noticed my gasoline gauge reading, “empty.”

I prayed for God to help me out of my dilemma, and keep me calm. I knew the danger I could be facing, especially if my car stopped running at night in the middle of no where without anyone to help me.

Once I decided there was no sign of life, I made a u-turn, returning me to the street from which I was sure led back to the hospital. I found, later it did not.

After driving a few miles, all of a sudden I saw the brightest lights, as though “ET” was ascending right before my very eyes. It was a filling station right on a corner, I should have noticed, but didn’t recall seeing as I got lost. I walked in, where an attendant stood behind the counter. I asked him, “Do you know where Rancho Cordova is?” He said, “No”, but reached immediately for his map, opening it to try locating my destination. As he was perusing the map, a woman walked in, directing herself to me, asked: “Where are you going?” I told her. She said, “I can help you get there. I am parking by that fence (pointing), waiting for you. Once you’re ready, I will lead you. When you see my right blinker on, it is your signal to exit.” I thanked her. I then, rushed outside to fill my tank with gasoline. To my dismay, I couldn’t fathom how to fill the car. From nowhere, a man with a smile on his face appeared. He made sounds and signals indicating he could help me. After filling my tank, he smiled at me, as I thanked him, and was gone.

The woman began driving in front of me, on the dark, glassy, wet freeway. As she blinked her right signal light, I exited and began recognizing all my familiar surroundings, in which I had felt so secure just days prior to my husband’s hospitalization, as we shopped for Christmas gifts.

The house felt like a void big as the crevice for which the Grand Canyon is known. I prayed for him to be home soon. It was empty, and so lonely without him.

Once he was doing well, I was able to organize my thoughts and recall activities since his surgery.

How did the girl at the grocery store know I needed stamps? I bought nothing resembling a need for mailing. The woman coming into the filling station didn’t buy gasoline. How did she know I was lost, when nothing was said between the filling station attendant and me, as she walked in?

The man rescuing me from my dilemma filling my gasoline tank was a mute! Neither did he buy gasoline, nor did I hear his car leaving. At the time these enigmas were of little concern to me because I was struggling to survive.

Once my husband was coming home, my mind was centered, and clarity exposed possibilities unexplainable any other way, but this:

It has been said that angels are dressed as ordinary beings. And, that God sends them to our aid in times of loss and trauma, guiding us to our journey or destination. I have been unable to find any other answer for the appearances of these unusually extraordinary, wonderful beings’ appearances. I accept God’s protection with unending gratitude, feeling so very blessed for their coming to my aid when they did. The other unexplained is that as many times as my husband, now recovering at home, has driven through that area, he has not been able to find the filling station, nor does he recall one ever having been there.

Copyright February 26, 2002

1Thess 5:11 Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.

MY PRAYER… Give me strength and patience, O God, that I may be as loving, gentle, and patient with others as you have been with me. Through Jesus my Lord and hero I pray. Amen.



Angels in the Midst