Each day my views of the world are reshaped and transformed by the touch of the Lord in my life and the lives of those around me. One concept which I believe I’ve finally begun to grasp is the concept of angels. Most of us are familiar with the concept of saints and how the Bible describes us all as saints when we believe in God and follow the ways He has set out for us (some are just recognised by the church more than others but we are all saints). I’ve been touched enough to believe that in the world there are scatterings of angels from whom resonate the warmth and love of heaven; an unearthly kind of joy and happiness and love.
If you ask anyone who knew my grandmother they would say that she was a clear example of an angel on Earth. She could speak to anyone and everyone and at her funeral there were politicians, diplomats, civil servants, nurses, doctors, unemployed people, gardeners and maids all present because she had managed to touch each of them with a heavenly love and acceptance. Ironically, to the average human, her name was Angelina which means ‘little angel’. Like I’ve mentioned before I no longer believe in coincidences and while this cannot be given as an example of unquestionable action by God I do think that He had it planned out that way.
The reason that I was struck by this concept of angels on earth is because of a woman I happened to meet. When you first meet her or see her from a distance one wouldn’t think that she’s a Christian, she just doesn’t fit the mold we tend to have in our minds. She has long black and pink hair, laughs louder than most and has a past which only a character in a novel could bear. She has been blessed with the same heavenly presence I felt radiating from my grandmother years ago and she doesn’t seem to know it. Last night we celebrated a birthday in the city and on our way back we met a man in his 30s. Everything about him screamed trouble, drugs and a little bit of crazy. He looked like a punk.
This woman, let’s call her Jane, struck up a conversation with him. First she asked about his lip and tongue piercings. Then she asked about his age. Then his sexuality which surprised both me and a friend we were with. As their conversation progressed we were ready to step in and pin him to the ground if it came to that but there they sat, across from us in the train talking like old friends. I didn’t want to eavesdrop but from what I picked up he was a homosexual man who had encountered a lot of pain and rejection in his life, and there was Jane, talking to him ‘on his own level’, as a friend and reformed drug addict herself. Occasionally the name ‘Jesus’ would touch our ears. Suddenly, to our surprise and the surprise of the others on the train, he burst into tears. This man who had seemed so confident, cocky, crude and funny was crying. Something about the scene made me feel so broken. Before I knew it Jane was crying too and then our friend joined in the tears. There was this man who had gone through so much pain and turmoil, being told that he was something that he really wasn’t, having grown complacent in his own imperfection. There in that train was someone who was telling him about God and Jesus, the 3-in-1 who love him more than he had ever known before. He was being given another chance instead of just being written off like he had been his whole life. A stranger had made him cry.
I won’t say that he was immediately converted and was singing Alleluia in the train from then on but he was touched by something, on a level which we as people may never fully comprehend. God had sent this person who had spoken to him in a way he had possibly never been spoken to. Everything in me had said to keep away from him but there he was sitting across from me, hugging this woman who had experienced so much of what he had. It may be one of the most out-of-this-world things that I have ever witnessed.
Apart from this man Jane spoke to bikers, drunkards and who knows who else over the course of one night and while not all of them may have been convinced they did hear about Jesus from someone who loved him. It’s not always about who loves Jesus though, the emphasis I want to place is on this person, so loved by God, that He has entrusted her to preach to the broken without actually preaching to them. She has done so much in her life that would put off so many people but she is the kind of Christian whom Jesus loves; imperfect, a smoker, a drinker, a friend, a servant to his Gospel. She’s the brand of person that I would like to be when I’m older but I know that the plan for me may be a different one.
There is a purpose for each and every one of us. God has made it so that we may use the talents He has blessed us with in order to serve Him as best we can. For Jane and for my gogo it’s through talking to people. His plan for me is probably something different or something similar. God has a plan for each of us and when we live that plan, I do believe that we radiate His glory and we too become angels.
One day, today and for the rest of my life, I’d like to make Him proud and be the earthly angel He intended me to be. I pray that you may find that gift of the Holy Spirit in you as well and that together we can glorify Him.
Praise the Lord O my soul! Worship His Holy name. Sing like never before, o my soul, I worship your Holy name!
God bless you