I’ve been thinking a lot about angels lately. There are a lot of books, websites, videos, fortune-telling cards, etc., out there–and angels are the subject. Some of these venues present angels as celestial bellhops, others practically advocate worshipping them. As a Christian, I’m uncomfortable with either approach.
Still, there must be something to this angel thing. The Bible mentions them. What, exactly, is their function, and how are we to relate to them, if at all?
I’m a writer. I think in metaphors, and here’s what came to me as I journaled this morning.
Suppose you were the President’s daughter (or son). You would have access to the Oval Office, but you would also have a contingent of Secret Service agents, assigned to protect you at all costs. While you might presume to order them around a little, their real instructions would come from the President and only the President. With me so far? They might buy you an ice cream cone, but only if the President wanted you eating ice cream. In times of danger, they would close ranks around you, fierce warriors, deadly to any attacker. Why? Because they know the President loves you, and they were assigned to take care of you. Other times, they sit around in their shirt sleeves in the kitchen, playing cards and telling inside jokes, while you sleep peacefully in the next room. That’s how I see angels.
I am ashamed to say I have not always been an easy charge. I’ve tried to sneak out of the White House–thank God (literally) I could never shake them. I’ve thrown tantrums. I’ve folded my arms and refused to speak to them. Once, I even accused them of sitting on their butts since 1992! Now, I’m changing my attitude.
I’m grateful, guys. I’ll try to co-operate, and not just because I’m going to be in big trouble in the Oval Office if I don’t. I apologize.
Now, how about dealing me in on the next hand of cards?