The story truly started many years before I came to know my angel. As I sit pondering where to begin, a memory twinkles in my mind.
Many years ago, I lie in my bedroom. I was as a fresh-faced teenage girl around the age of 17. Often as I went to bed, I turned off the lights, snuggled under the covers and prayed.
The room was dark except for the light from the moon. The top of my bedspread was firmly crinkled into my hands as I had pulled it up snugly under my chin. Fervently I called out to God, speaking my request out loud: “Dear God, please. I want to see an angel.”
As the moon’s rays cast across the floor I heald my breath. I was scared as I believed that it might happen right then. My faith felt fragile and I thought that seeing an angel would solidify my faith making it easier to be obedient and believe. Yet, I fell asleep without seeing one. With hope, I imagined my request was floating up to Heaven’s ears.
On another night, not too far from the time I had prayed before, I sent God another plea, still not giving up on the last. That night I prayed to God for a Christian boyfriend. I would find some spiritual strength in a relationship! I was excited to see God bring him to me. Ask and you shall receive, right? Needless to say, I did not see an angel nor did a cute Christian guy show up to court me. “In God’s time I suppose,” I thought “if it even really works that way at all.”
If there ever was a forshadowing event in my life, this was it.