My shocking truth regarding angels

Sometimes, just when you think you’re getting to know yourself, a sudden realization whacks you in the head and turns your assumptions about who you are on their head. So it was today, as I was picking away at the task of packing up the house to move. My realization flies in the face of my general dismissal of angelology as a triumph of hope over the practical, provable effectiveness of personal action.

The shocking truth: I have angels all over my house. The kind of collection that would make a bonafide angelologist proud. And I didn’t even realize it ’till now.

An innocuous start

An innocuous start

This one, sitting on my grandmother’s jewelry box, is innocent enough. It was my mother’s, another pragmatist who had an astonishing collection, much of which as come my way. So naturally I feel I can lay some of the blame for my collection on her.

 

Then there are the ones that fly around on my bedroom wall. And yes, three were my Mom’s but one of them I bought myself, in Tuscany.

Only one is mine, I swear!

Only one is mine, I swear!

Blow me a kiss, angel

Blow me a kiss, angel

More inescapable proof of angel fetishism: right here at my computer one sits benevolently blowing me kisses all day long. This one is from my Mom though, so I’m not too worried.

Truly hallowed, carved for God

Truly hallowed, carved for God

Then one of my favourites, which I bought from a dismantled church in London England, ostensibly as a gift for my mother (oh how we fool ourselves!) and which of course eventually made its way back to me.

She has my heart.

She has my heart.

And finally, as though all these smaller versions can’t make up for their size by their numbers, I present the final evidence: a six-foot tall recycled steel garden statue – currently presiding indoors – that I fell in love with at first sight and have lugged all over the world with me for three decades.

I’m still coming to grips with what this means. I don’t think I’m going to rush out and buy angel cards or anything, but clearly I’m harbouring a not-so-hidden desire for divine intervention. Should I give in to it, or continue to pretend they’re just art?

Just the weekly (sorta) blog posts, please

Get tips and tools delivered straight to your inbox. Easy peasy. No spam.

...and if you change your mind, you can unsubscribe at any time.

2 thoughts on “My shocking truth regarding angels

  1. Winnifred Rosser

    Shelagh, just give in to it. I don’t have a single angel to show you, but discovered my guardian angels have surrounded me all my life, especially whenever I needed that extra ‘gumption’ to take the next fearful step into the unknown. I wouldn’t be without them and as time moves on, my loved ones join them. I believe we all have them, we just need to acknowledge the fact they are there if you need them and they’re not going away.

    Reply

Leave a Reply