God is a wonder. This past Sunday was a scrambled brain day for me at church. Right off the top, the
person leading the processional got sick seconds before heading down the aisle, and from there some of us
plunged into unfamiliar territory for the remainder of the morning. Lori’s hair was up, fastened with a comb
clip, giving her a confidence and a glow like the sunrise on the horizon of a gently swaying golden field of
wheat. She glowed. She was making breakfast. My new duties included giving a quick communion and the
ever so brief “body and blood of Christ” to the acolytes, of which I completely forgot that Susan preferred a
little variation in the procedure. She was gracious, while I was tasting the proverbial egg on my face.
It was a special service, one of accomplishment and much pride for the pastor, who had been relentlessly
passionate in her shepherding for years. She couldn’t hold back the tears when Millie sang in her usual
dulcet voice, smoothly hitting those low notes with the skill and casualness of a leopard gliding effortlessly
through the air. Surely God was pleased.
The seats had filled up like a meadow of yellow buttercups with their bright expectant faces.
People sat in the front row; not even looking self-conscious to be there. Summer wasn’t supposed to have all
these people in church. Didn’t before. My mind was swirling with the grounds near the side road suddenly
looking a little too natural – what to do, what to do, and my personal business dilemma zooming in and out of
my brain like a roller coaster roaring by every now and then. Clankity clank, whoosh. And the mosque at
ground zero. Everyone deserves freedom of worship, but what wisdom can there be in building it right
there? Well, Jesus’ second coming can’t be all that far away, and that’s a good thing.
Janine, the joy of our lives, in her emerald green form-fitting tee shirt, entertaining the troops. She’s our deaf
interpreter faithfully signing away, never faltering, and creative not unlike the momma cat popping out her
litter of kittens in delightful arrangements of colors. The congregation broke out in laughter when she signed
“brushing teeth,” just when we needed a bit of intermittent relief.
But, here it is. God, help me to increase in my perceptions. Three tall and glorious angels were standing
there with us. One was to my left against the wall right behind Liz. One was on the same side further back
almost in front of the window. The other was in the back right hand corner to the left of a plant. I wonder if
Liz felt an unusual sense of calm, or comfort, or encouragement, or anything? How do I know such a thing?
I have no way of telling you. But I know that I know that I know. I could see them, they’re still in my vision.
We are a church on the way. Halleluiah.
Most of those who were serving at communion were delegated to open the doors and stand a bit outside
after the service to accommodate the entire congregation into the lobby for a dedication.
I asked Vince if he had seen the angels. Lovely Maggie, whose ears perked up like a squirrel eating an
acorn, leaned like the tower of Pisa into that comment with an energized curiosity. I explained what I saw.
She wondered; Vince confirmed. I told pastor Sherry and Charlene what I had seen.
I told Richard & Michael later. How could I not?
Richard is a most inquisitive being.
With the dedication done and the gasps of awe subsiding after the unveiling of the commemorative “naming
wall,” I made my way to the changing room. The smell of bacon permeated the air.
We must think about a fan vent for the kitchen area soon. Patient Becky. She’s our chef.
She makes it happen week after week.
Scramble scramble o brain. It’s all coming together; the future looks terrific. We have guardian angels
standing with us. They chose to visit us. We’re good to go.
“For God orders angels to protect you wherever you go”