Many Angels Got Me Through.
I was brought up in a Christian church and attended at least three times a week.
I was saved and baptized.
As a teenager, I met a man who I knew would always love me. By 25 we were married and had two boys six years apart.
My husband had been raised in an entirely different background with an alcoholic father. My husband was headed in the same direction, but because his Dad died of cirrhosis, I was determined I wouldn't be left a widow at 47 as his mom was.
Today I am so glad that I stayed with this man who takes care of me. He was sent by an angel I am sure. He almost died when he was born breach and weighed 9 lb.5 oz. I tell him he lived for me.
I was granted constant employment, which was such a blessing when he got laid off several times right after we bought our first substantial home. My income got us through. Little did I know at that time that the angels were hanging with me even if I had stopped going to church regularily. I had, however continued to pray daily.
Hubby finally landed a job at the same communication company I worked at. Five years later they began to cut back, and he got laid off. I prayed and prayed we would be OK.
He found work at a small communication company and was secure. I know my angels were there for us. I never gave up my faith and always talked to my boys about God's grace. My eldest son went to a Christian camp with my parents. He came home with his Bible open and asked me about being saved. I told him it would be a very hard thing to do in middle and high school, and we didn't talk about it anymore. I think the devil wanted my family and me.
Little did I know the challenges had just begun.
When my eldest was 18 and just graduated from high school, he was killed in a car accident at an intersection on his way to work. An old man pulled out into the side of his car. He was thrown from the rolling car and died.
All that day there were rainbows in the sky all over, and it wasn't even humid or raining.
I should have known that was a sign. Hubby and I both became so bitter when we heard that this elderly man had told his neighbor that it didn't even bother him what had happened. He had also said "I will get those speeders. I will pull out in front of them."
Losing a child is like a nightmare that you can't wake from. This happened in July 1987. In November, on what would have been his 19th birthday, I awakened with such a heavy heart. I laid in bed and asked God to give me a sign he was OK and with God. From the bedroom, I heard a tapping. I finally had to get up to see what it was. There, tapping on my patio door was a female cardinal. Tapping my fears away.
I sat at the table right by the door and wrote a poem that came from my heart and helped to relieve the agony. I had it published in the paper.
The prosecuting Attorney had charged the man with negligent homicide. We heard from the prosecuter that the family was angry about the poem because it would make the old man look guilty and we'd get sympathy.
Finally after a year or so hubby and I convinced each other that the bitterness and hatred were eating us up. At this point, we gave it to God.
All I could think of was that scripture that says, "Vengence is mine saith the Lord." I kept telling hubby that we had to believe this. Two years after the accident our case came to trial.
The daughter of the old man was a woman we had sat with at church with our 1st born son sitting with her 1st born. She turned around and glared at us with an expression full of hate when we entered the courtroom.
The trial lasted a week, and when it was over, I missed a week of work with nerve damage to my shoulder. I couldn't sleep, sit up or lie down. The man was claimed NOT GUILTY. Bitterness crept back in for the failure of the law.
We remembered that we had given it to God. Our family had been ripped apart, and we had a lot of healing to do. Our two sons were so close. Our youngest went through a very bad time, and we were so protective. It had to be so hard for him. Within six months of his death, I was granted the job I worked to get for over ten years. It made it possible for me to attend my youngest son's football games, as I could adjust my working hours.
His best friend's mom and sister went to an away game with me. We had a slush storm, and the drive home was horrendous. I was going about 40 MPH when I came out from under a viaduct on the freeway. Just as I did , a man tried to pass me and was blown into the side of my car. The wind and the slush pulled him into my car and it spun around at least two times and came to rest in the median.
There was a trail of cars behind me and no one hit me. At that moment I knew I had a highway angel. We drove to a rest area real close and the police ticketed him. I was just grateful to be off the road so my younger son didn't see my banged in car in the median so soon after losing his brother.
About seven years later Hubby and I came home to a note from my younger son's girlfriend that he had been in a wreck. I nearly passed out. The phone rang and I was told they (he and his best friend) were OK. The car was totaled. They had stopped to get drinks, took off their seat belts and didn't put them back on. They hit an icy patch and he rolled his blazer into a field.
When I saw the vehicle I knew an angel or God himself was with them.
The rest of the story is one that few would even believe. This was not my plan, b ut God works in mysterious ways. I got a call telling me that the 1st born grandson (the one that used to sit with my son in church) of the old man who killed my son, had been found dead in his car in a ditch near where he lived. This must have been the only way the family could understand our grief.
They started to put poems in the paper too about their dead son. I would wish that hurt on no one.
When I was 49 I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid arthritis. That same year my first grandchild was born. I was never able to hold her without horrible pain. My grandson came along 4 years later. I was using a walker by this time and could never pick him up. I had to retire early and have had 5 new joints put in.
I was diagnosed with Lyme disease. I am in a wheelchair. A new friend took me and my walker to a day with many psychics. One who claimed to see angels said to me as I approached her for my reading, "WOW, there are angels all around you."
She drew a picture of Chamuel and told me that was my guardian angel. Another drew a picture of my family room without a clue and told me my dead son sat in a chair there a lot. She also told me that I had lost the ability to love unconditionally. I told her that I had done that with my son and had my heart ripped out and began to cry. She assured me that my granddaughter had been sent so I could get that love back.
I tried not to fall desperately in love with her, but I have. I thank the angels for that.I have a Bible study group that has prayed over me many times for healing.
I have not been healed, but I find the more time I spend reading the Bible, the more I hear this voice. One night as clear as any human voice I heard "Use your walker". I had regressed back to my power wheelchair.
Recently I had a funeral 150 miles away. We had secured a handicapped van to take us, but the weather was so bad they had multi-car pile-ups the night before. I couldn't picture myself along the roadside somewhere in my chair. Who could transport me if that happened? I prayed and asked God for a sign as to whether I should go or not.
Within 10 minutes the phone rang and the driver was on the line assuring me that he was not afraid of the bad roads. We would just go earlier. I went to bed still restless. In the night I heard a voice say my name so clearly it woke me up. I opened my eyes and said, "What?" There was no answer, so I went back to sleep.A few hours later it happened again.
No answer again. Why couldn't I have a spoken answer? Early the next morning my cousin who was supposed to go called to say how sick she was and wasn't going. My hubby had been fighting a boil on his bottom and it was to a head today. He wasn't going.
Even so, I convinced myself that I should go. If I didn't my sister and Mom were going to go by themselves. That scared me more than the van. I decided I was to go. Maybe that voice in the night was just a way to let me know my angel was there.
The roads were very slippery for the first 80 miles or so, then they got a little better as it warmed up. I had called ahead to the church to be sure it had facilities to accommodate my wheelchair. I was assured they had a ramp that went up and down stairs.
But when I got there it was broken.
My cousin got four 30-40 year old men to lift me up the stairs in my chair around the corner and into the sanctuary. After the service they lifted me down both sets of stairs for the luncheon and then back to the landing for exit. I told them they were angels. I knew my angels had my back.
Since that incident, I was having a very bad painful day and laid down to take a restless nap. I felt someone press down on my shoulders just as surely as if it was a family member. I just closed my eyes and said "Thank you God." I now know that angels do exist and even if I cannot walk I know I will one day. God and his angels have it covered.