Many of you know that I have a practice of dispatching angels for people’s various needs as they are revealed to me. I simply close my eyes and consider what angel will be needed, and then I dispatch that particular angel to the recipient. For some, this may seem like I’m taking quite a bit of personal liberty – or, am heartily presumptuous. After all, what right, divine or otherwise, do I have to dispatch angels?
I can’t really answer that in any plausible way except to say, that there was a moment when I suddenly felt I needed to send an angel to care for someone. I don’t remember the time, the event, or the person. I just know that my soul was telling me to do it, and so I did. It came very naturally after that. Now, people have become so accustomed to this ministry that they email me, phone me, write to me and ask for an angel to be dispatched. I don’t pretend to understand it, nor surprisingly, do I feel any need whatsoever to defend the practice. It is what it is.
In any case, I went to the water store this morning to refill my water jugs, and the owner of the shop told me a story. Although there is nothing in the encounter or the story that is about my dispatching of angels, it did remind me that we doubt such ethereal happenings at our peril.
The owner of the shop began her story saying she had once met a gypsy. My ears perked up immediately since I have so often been called a gypsy myself. It seems that the woman had had an accident in her car and needed it repaired. She had gotten an estimate which was over $2,000.00, and she and her husband didn’t have the money for the repair. In simple faith, she just said to God, “God, please send me an angel. Help me.” As she was ending her prayer she heard a knock at the door. (You might want to look up Isaiah 65:24!) She opened the door and found there a gentleman she had never met before. He said he worked for a particular auto repair dealership but that business was slow and he was trying to do some extra work on his own. He had noticed that her car, parked in front of her house, had been in some kind of accident, and he wondered if he could do the repair work. She asked him what he would charge.
“300.00” he said confidently.
Excitedly she told the man, “Wait here a moment.” She went to the phone and called her husband to see what he thought of the man’s offer.
“Can he come back on Saturday,” asked her husband. “I’ll be home then and will be able to supervise and be sure that you are in no danger being there alone with someone unfamiliar.”
The woman went back to the man at the door, and asked if he could return on Saturday. “Yes,” he readily replied. “I’ll be here.”
The following Saturday, he returned and began the work. In the course of the day, they found out that the man was a gypsy. He told them all about gypsy culture and family dynamics. And, when they asked what his name was, he said, “Angel.” Yep. Angel. Oh, and by the way, she said he did such an excellent job on the repair that when the car was being repainted for trade-in, those doing the painting couldn’t even detect where there had ever been any damage.
.
Had I known about her need, I would have dispatched a repair angel, or perhaps, a trust angel so she wouldn’t worry so much about the lack of funds for the repair. In any case, her own prayer brought a gypsy man named Angel, who would remain in her heart as a sign that there’s more to prayer than we may at first think!
And, I must say, it does just make me think that angels, of necessity, must be gypsies.
I can’t really answer that in any plausible way except to say, that there was a moment when I suddenly felt I needed to send an angel to care for someone. I don’t remember the time, the event, or the person. I just know that my soul was telling me to do it, and so I did. It came very naturally after that. Now, people have become so accustomed to this ministry that they email me, phone me, write to me and ask for an angel to be dispatched. I don’t pretend to understand it, nor surprisingly, do I feel any need whatsoever to defend the practice. It is what it is.
In any case, I went to the water store this morning to refill my water jugs, and the owner of the shop told me a story. Although there is nothing in the encounter or the story that is about my dispatching of angels, it did remind me that we doubt such ethereal happenings at our peril.
The owner of the shop began her story saying she had once met a gypsy. My ears perked up immediately since I have so often been called a gypsy myself. It seems that the woman had had an accident in her car and needed it repaired. She had gotten an estimate which was over $2,000.00, and she and her husband didn’t have the money for the repair. In simple faith, she just said to God, “God, please send me an angel. Help me.” As she was ending her prayer she heard a knock at the door. (You might want to look up Isaiah 65:24!) She opened the door and found there a gentleman she had never met before. He said he worked for a particular auto repair dealership but that business was slow and he was trying to do some extra work on his own. He had noticed that her car, parked in front of her house, had been in some kind of accident, and he wondered if he could do the repair work. She asked him what he would charge.
“300.00” he said confidently.
Excitedly she told the man, “Wait here a moment.” She went to the phone and called her husband to see what he thought of the man’s offer.
“Can he come back on Saturday,” asked her husband. “I’ll be home then and will be able to supervise and be sure that you are in no danger being there alone with someone unfamiliar.”
The woman went back to the man at the door, and asked if he could return on Saturday. “Yes,” he readily replied. “I’ll be here.”
The following Saturday, he returned and began the work. In the course of the day, they found out that the man was a gypsy. He told them all about gypsy culture and family dynamics. And, when they asked what his name was, he said, “Angel.” Yep. Angel. Oh, and by the way, she said he did such an excellent job on the repair that when the car was being repainted for trade-in, those doing the painting couldn’t even detect where there had ever been any damage.
.
Had I known about her need, I would have dispatched a repair angel, or perhaps, a trust angel so she wouldn’t worry so much about the lack of funds for the repair. In any case, her own prayer brought a gypsy man named Angel, who would remain in her heart as a sign that there’s more to prayer than we may at first think!
And, I must say, it does just make me think that angels, of necessity, must be gypsies.
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