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Angel of God, My Guardian Dear…

Hoo Boy! My guardian angel was working double time today. I was almost hit head-on by a crazy woman on the wrong side of the road, zipping along like nothing was the matter. I swerved out of her way and managed to avoid hitting any other folks trying to do the same … all this with the woman speeding along, unmoved by what was happening as a result of her carelessness or stupidity or who-knows-what. I had to pull over and compose myself. And give thanks.

You’re probably familiar with this picture of the guardian angel:

I had a picture like this in my bedroom when I was a kid, and in my mind, that’s what guardian angels looked like. And then I got too big for my britches and discarded the notion that I could have a guardian angel at all. It was that stupid period of adolescence when I knew everything, and my guardian angel had to pay for it by chasing stupid move after stupid move.

My guardian, however, has been a noble angel, and present in my life particularly when I was least aware and least likely to believe or appreciate the presence of a messenger of God sent expressly to watch over me. My guardian angel has stood by, perhaps keeping me from crossing the brink of real endangerment.

Like just about every other aspect of my faith, it took becoming a mother for me to appreciate the richness of our faith’s teachings, and more importantly, to open my heart to the Truths inherent in those teachings. Suddenly, I had a real interest in guardian angels…I sought the comfort of knowing that my children were not alone when they were not with me.

I didn’t start talking to my guardian angel until I had started talking to the guardian angels of my children. I know, it sounds a little silly, doesn’t it? Well, I told you I was a little slow.

I admit that I felt a little awkward and even silly at first. In fact, to help me reconcile myself to these conversations, I imagined my guardian angel as only I could: as a cynical and comical alter ego of myself named Madge.

Oh, I know, angels are spirits without substance, and it’s ridiculous to imagine that my angel could sound like a 3-pack-a-day smoker, wielding a cup of coffee in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, but there you have it. The image helped me to relate.

One day (not too soon, Madge, keep up the good work) I hope to see and experience my guardian angel and be able to apologize for all the crazy and offensive things I’ve done. I will especially say thank you for not abandoning me.

Until then, I’ll continue to say the simple little prayer I learned so long ago:

Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God’s love commits me here; ever this day be at my side to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.

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Day 07

Day 07 – A picture of your most treasured item.

In 1992  our house was burglarized. Thanks to our retired neighbor who was working in the yard, he was able to call the police and scare away the burglars. We only lost our tv and stereo…and the jewelry box that John gave me for our first anniversary. In it were a number of pieces of jewelry that had a lot of sentimental value. Among them were my wedding rings.(I was about to give birth to our son and had taken them off the night before because of swelling in my hands).

I cried and cried. Eventually, I stopped crying, but I’ve never gotten over it, especially if in the right mood I happen to catch a glimpse of John’s matching band 🙁

He replaced the rings because he is a darling and has offered to upgrade and change the setting, but I’ll have none of that. Not because I’m being petulant or having a tantrum about wanting my rings, but because it was one of those defining moments that changed me. I’m just not terribly attached to items since them. I’m not married because of some rings…the burglars took some gold and diamonds, not my marriage.

I’m not very materialistic. Don’t think I’m being all ascetic and stuff. I like pretty things and have plenty of stuff, and like my new car, and like my house, and like the things in it. I’m just talking about having an inordinate connection to stuff. I just don’t. I’ve driven cars that were just tools for transportation, lived in comfortable homes that were not showrooms, worn clothes for fit and comfort instead of style. I do admit to owning too many books, so maybe that’s it. But no, a flood in the basement wiped out hundreds of them (they were in boxes — fail) and I tend to lend books, which amounts to giving them away, so I never give anyone a book that I actually expect back 🙂 So, nothing there.

I’m contemplating what I would grab if the house were on fire. My initial thought is nothing — get my family out. I actually took a walk around looking at stuff. When I settled in the living room, I saw the charcoal drawing of the three kids that hangs above the fireplace, and I thought, well…I can’t reduce my kids to an item…but in that item is captured that which I do value, and that is my family.

Aren’t they cutie pies?

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Day 06

Day 06 – A picture of a person you’d love to trade places with for a day.

Good grief! Unless I can do this with a fictional character, I ain’t playing. At first I thought, there’s really no one I’d like to trade places with…I really tried. It’s not that I want to be difficult, but I’m just not foolish enough to somehow buy into the grass being greener on the other side. Then I thought, well, it can be interpreted in a different way, like an opportunity to walk in someone else’s shoes.

I thought about that for a little while, too. No. Nope. My shoes are not only comfortable, but in the difficult places where they were hard to break in and caused some blisters and callouses, well, it was painful and uncomfortable, but I’ve adapted.

Have you ever worn someone else’s shoes? Their footprint are in the shoes. Not only does it fit awkwardly, but it could cause blisters in different places. I’m not up for that, so I pass.

Plus, it gives me the opportunity to play in outer space. Yes, I want to be Lt. Uhura from Star Trek:

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