2 Samuel 14:14 from the NLT:
“All of us must die eventually. Our lives are like water spilled out on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. But God does not just sweep life away; instead, he devises ways to bring us back when we have been separated from him.”
I am not a biblical scholar and having read the Bible twice in my life and never studied it, I am not one to quote scripture, but every now and then I read a bible quote somewhere and it resonates with me. Another blogger used this passage in an article he had written and it immediately took me back a year or so ago when I was in the middle of a major life transition and feeling totally disconnected from God, myself and all my loved ones. I had just retired from a twenty-five year career which had been my passion for most of those years; I had been widowed about a year and a half prior to this time; I had just sold my home in Texas, and was leaving my daughter, friends and granddaughters to relocate back to Michigan to care for aging parents. Oh, did I mention that I had just had the last of six surgeries in relation to the mastectomy and reconstruction I had dealt with following my husband’s death. Well, anyway, during most of this time I had been able to maintain a conscious contact with the Holy Spirit but on this day, sitting at Mass the Sunday before the big move, I just could not “feel” that connection. I was lost. I knew I was doing the right thing but I just felt numb. I prayed and prayed but when you can’t find God, prayers seem hollow and futile.
Just as Mass was about to start, a forty-something couple came down the aisle and slid into the pew next to me. He was an interesting looking young man but she was definitely someone I registered as; someone I would have liked to have gotten to know if I were going to hang around. You know the face. It’s the one in the crowd that looks open, like there is a light emanating from within; intelligent and friendly at the same time. After nodding my acknowledgement of them I turned back to my inner thoughts and prayers and they appeared to have done the same. Midway through the mass, at the point where everyone greets his or her neighbor and says: “Peace be with you.” I engaged in that activity and as I turned to the young woman she whispered to me: “I think I am supposed to hug you.” I said that would be fine and she gave me a warm embrace that I returned in kind. After that exchange we each turned back and faced the altar where the Mass was continuing. The only problem was, I had lost it. I had begun to weep. The tears were non-stoppable. Thank God I had tissue. I wasn’t sobbing or anything, just a steady stream of tears pouring down my face. I was embarrassed to say the least. I didn’t even look in her direction. I don’t know if she knew the hug had opened up the flood gates but I was too embarrassed to find out. It wasn’t long though before I realized the source of the pain. The grief over all of the losses had finally broken through my walls of defense. That woman’s hug was the catalyst for this important work that I needed to address. At Communion I followed my new friends up to the altar to receive the sacrament with the intention of thanking them both after the Mass for their amazing intuitive gift. As we were returning to our seats, however, I saw them pass our pew and swiftly move up the aisle and out the doors of the church. If I hadn’t been so emotional already, I would have cried all the more for having missed the opportunity to meet them and thank them.
I don’t know if they were angels or not. They were definitely my angels that day and the miracle of healing they began was certainly a Divine Intervention as far as I was concerned. As it says in 2 Samuel 14:14 – “He devises ways to bring us back”. Well, that little event, certainly brought me back to myself, my God and my loved ones. I was able to be more emotionally present to them all when we parted because I was no longer disconnected from myself. I may have been a little raw but I was “real” when we said our goodbyes, I didn’t have to hide from the pain of loss any longer, it had been processed and released, and that was a huge gift to me.
I think they were angels. What do you think?