angels to watch charge over us and protect us from harm.
Flip to the dreaded ‘other hand’ side of my brain and I hear myself argue, where was eight-year-old Maddie’s guardian angel when she was murdered?* This is the part of me that will question, doubt, cry and eat an ulcer clear through to tomorrow. Flip back to my salvaged faith in action and I rest in the comfort knowing that Maddie was not alone. Her angel was at her fated little side and (I strongly believe) carried her
precious soul straight out of her earthly body before her last exhale.
I don’t know if this Heavenly Being looked like the guy from Touched By An Angel (I wouldn’t mind!) but I guess that is not important. I will assume this creature is, like me, created by God,but for the specific duty of being an angel -- an omnipresent Guardian, Messenger, Journeyman and occasional kick in the butt out of the way of physical or spiritual harm.
The one thing I am not sure that an angel can do, but like to think they could, is to provide a closure for the departing soul who, but for one small piece of unfinished business, is not ready to depart their body.
Many of us have know or at least heard of a loved one who clung to life leaving the doctors scratching their heads and insisting we prepare it will be any day or hour now. You sit at their bedside and whisper, “It’s OK ... you can go now. Be in peace ... go be with Grandpa again ... pray for us who remain ....” Then you sit around in the lounge drinking bad coffee speculating among yourselves why they are sticking around (and everyone will have their opinion):the birth of the first grandchild, the last sibling to arrive in town, a holy day or anniversary or to serve some higher unknown purpose -- perhaps as a silent messenger themselves, for the benefit of only one particular person.
My mother in law was one such case. She fought the cancer battle for eighteen long years. Janet had always said she wanted to live to see her first grandchild and she did. Joshua’s first birthday came and although mother was in the final stages of the disease, she was alive and conscious. Two months later, on Valentine’s Day, she fell into that
final, fitful cancer sleep, but remained nonetheless. Hospice said it would be any time.
Her only son, the youngest and unmarried, one of three children, had moved back to town to be close to his beloved mother. Working the evening shift at the television station, Scott had a break and joined a group of single friends from church for dinner. It was there that he met a newcomer to the group named Karen. They ate and chatted together until it was time for Scott to return to work for the nightly newscast. Neither
one of them was overly impacted by their new acquaintance. Shortly thereafter, the phone rang at the dinner party. It was Scott -- his mom died while he was at dinner. Karen gathered in the circle to pray for a family she didn’t know, for a pain she couldn’t quite feel.
Today, fourteen years later, I still don't feel the pain per se, but I do feel a deep regret of never knowing or having a mother in law. From everyone and everything I've heard about her, Janet was a fabulous woman.
I do, however, feel honored and grateful that she wouldn't take the angel’s hand and leave this earth without assurance that her son would not be alone. Sixteen months later Scott took the fresh and loving memories of his mother down the aisle with us when we married.
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* Maddie Clifton of Jacksonville, Florida (age eight). In November of 1998, Maddie was found murdered in a neighbor’s home. The crime was committed by a fourteen-year-old boy who is now serving a life sentence. The author is a friend of Maddie and her family.
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