I have two friends who often get signs from guardian angels or loved ones on the other side of the veil. Every now and then they will post a picture online of the signs that have materialized: angel symbols in unusual places like a tattoo on the shoulder of someone who photobombs a selfie, a feather, a cardinal or bluejay, or the repeat of certain numbers, like 1:11 on a clock.
I don’t really get these sorts of signs. The closest I come is frequently glancing at the clock at precisely 3:33 pm. Makes me wonder what is the significance of that time. Maybe it’s because three is my favorite number? But it got me to wondering why I don’t ever get signs from those who have passed, or why I don’t feel that I have a connection with my guardian angel. I wish I did. So very many people in my family and a few friends have passed, you would think I’d have a connection with someone, but no. Nothing. Radio silence.
It seems most people aren’t concerned with this sort of thing, whatsoever. But I often ponder what happens after we die. Where exactly are the souls of those who have passed? Part of me wants to know the science behind it, not just the mysticism. Can they hear us? Should we be having an ongoing dialogue with them? I mean, I catch myself periodically talking to my parents like they are right here with me, but then I stop because maybe I’m just crazy.
Speaking of crazy, I’ve been trying to have a dialogue with my guardian angel lately, just acknowledging that he or she is there. Saying, “hey,” and thank you for the guidance so far. Part of me feels silly because I haven’t had any overt experiences with angels and I don’t know why that would start now other than I’m actually trying to make a connection. I would probably get really freaked out if I encountered one at this point in life but I’m still curious. Can I get my angel’s name, at least? Maybe I’m too much of a baby Christian to have that kind of relationship. For example, I’ve spoken more about my faith on this blog than I ever do in real life. I practice my faith quietly…hoping that it shows in my actions versus my words…and maybe that’s not enough to be granted the gift of a sign.
I do think guardian angels are real, though. Now to be clear, I have had a couple of close calls and I think my angel intervened. These aren’t amazing stories or anything, but when I was 18, I hit a patch of black ice driving on a turn heading down Blaine Hill late one November night after work ended. My car made an instantaneous 90 degree turn to the left and I would have gone straight off the hillside landing who-knows-how-many-feet-below except something caused the car to turn yet another 90 degrees and come to a complete stop on the edge of the road, now headed uphill. A coworker happened to be right behind me and saw the whole thing transpire. He jumped out of his vehicle to check on me, and while he didn’t say it was a miraculous recovery on my part, both he and I knew I was almost a goner. I have no idea what stopped my car. It could have been sheer terror and adrenaline, and my foot jammed on the brake pedal. Sure it could. But it could’ve been something else.
How many of us go about our daily business unaware of the angels around us?
I experienced a different encounter on New Year’s Day when my husband and I visited a church we had hoped to make our new place of worship, given that we had moved into our current house the week before. It was a small but beautiful Orthodox church the next town over from where we lived.
10-15 minutes into the service, our little family of three made up half of the attendance, including the priest who had so far only spoken church Slavonic, a language I have heard since I was a kid but don’t understand, at all. I looked at my 2.5 year old kid, then to my husband and told him, “I can’t do this. I can’t go to a church that doesn’t speak English. The service must be in English if there is any hope our kid stays Orthodox when he’s older. Let’s go.”
Set aside for a minute how ridiculous it is to make language an important criteria for church, but that gives you an idea what you contend with when you’re Orthodox Christian in America. However, I digress…
We left. I still feel bad about bailing 15 minutes into the service, but I just couldn’t do it. Outside the church on the sidewalk, our 2.5 year old repeatedly threw himself down on the ground, having a tantrum about leaving. Except this wasn’t your normal toddler tantrum. He wasn’t wailing and writhing…he was trying hard to make his point known. He wasn’t simply upset we were leaving; no, he was trying to say something very specific. He kept pointing to a spot a few feet away from him, saying, “Look! Look!” and nothing more, except from my vantage, he was pointing at thin air, nothing that we could see.
It was one of those time-stands-still moments. Something told me he saw an angel. Don’t little kids have a connection we adults have shut off? What else could it have been? I promise you, we saw nothing there. I even got down on his level to see what I was missing. Still nothing as far as we could tell. I honestly felt like he saw an angel and he was trying desperately to tell us not to leave. Our son couldn’t put it into words. He simply did not want to go.
That was one of my last encounters and now it was years ago. My physical body simply hasn’t been very intuitive lately.
For whatever reason “signs from beyond” caught my attention this week and I read a completely random article online about the top ten signs that angels are near you. The number one sign is feathers. Makes sense to the common man, right? Angels have wings, and the good ones have white ones or so we think, so of course there would be feathers nearby.
The very next day I got into my vehicle. It was a bright, sunny day and there I saw it, in the corner of my eye: the tiniest feather, stuck in the interior on the front passenger side. It’s so small, it would be easy to miss, but I didn’t. I never have feathers in my car. Mud? Yes. Petrified McDonald’s Happy Meal french fries from days gone by? Yes. Feathers? Never. Not once in the 33 years I’ve been driving.
How can I not smile about the little message my guardian angel left me?
PS – Then again maybe my guardian angel has been screaming to get my attention. We have a down comforter in our bedroom and it must have a hole or something because that thing spews feathers non-stop. It often looks like a couple of geese had a fight in our bedroom. Call me dense but I take that to be a sign that we need a new comforter, lol.
This “message from beyond” thing is hard. =)