The way that I know my angel has visited me is awful extraordinary. Years ago I spent months with my angel when I myself was not on this plane. Since then every now and again he, (an androgynous he), visits me in moments unexpected. I do not call on my angel, he is just there when it is appropriate to let me know to keep my eye on something, or that something serendipitous is happening. It is not like talking to god, though I can tell he is blessed and working for the creator. I may have known his name once, but do not now. We know each other well, and they are usually simple and friendly interactions.

It is as if I can see him, hear him, yet there is no sound, no hard image. Although at times there is an image, faint and transparent that appears in my mind, as the words do that he speaks to me. Deeply I sense that this is not just another psychotic moment, but is an example of the real on another plane. It is the same being that follows me, and usually outside we speak. He sits on my roof above me or on the railing of the deck, just now. First when he speaks, and I sense his presence, he does not entertain a slightly physical location, but as soon as I acknowledge him, I know where he is.

I am thankful for this friend and I always feel gifted with my angel’s presence. I don’t pretend to understand the order of angels, their origin or purpose, other than what is widely known. I do, though, believe in my angel, and at times of great strife have spoken to more than one. There is not a lot of information in the Bible, and I do not have the Library of Congress at my fingertips, however I have checked out some fiction, and other people’s musings about angels. I remind myself to look into it. However, all I need to know is that he is here always, looking after my life, and that there is great meaning in the choices we all make. I choose to believe that acts of kindness and unselfish deeds have more meaning in this crumbling world than ever before. I am reminded by my visitor that I do live my life by a code, I believe in God and he, it, is real; there are divine miracles every day.

There has to be, I’m afraid, when such terrible things are prone to happen. They do not control the world; they try to guide it to a place of balance. They know that small acts and the flutter of dragonfly wings can create tidal waves of change and promise. There is a science, a divine science, to the interconnectedness of the world, and plucking the right strings, and speaking to those clairvoyant and believing enough to hear, can change more than you know. I will tell you that at times, my “angel” can have a dark and wicked sense of humor. He may be divine, and have an essential and magnificent purpose, but he is relatable, and an individual. I qualm at any traditional concepts of angels for they are just created by man. And though man is gifted and given many talents and hopes, we can be essentially flawed in our actions.

So I am thankful for this gift I receive, and pray that is nourishes my soul and guides me to a place of being connected with "God" and able to live in a way that can heal the world. Too much time is spent on hoarding and selfish acts. I do not need much and I have a lot to give, as do you.