December 2007 (Vol. XX, No. 11)
"Is there enough Silence for the Word to be heard?"
In this season of celebration, may angelic blessings be yours, dear friends. Living with an awareness of their companioning presence, even if only with trust to begin with, we come to realize angelic joy is working with us, surprising us, and reminding us that we are loved beyond measure. Limit not the myriad ways your angelic companions may knock on the door of your heart. Spending time in the Silence draws them nigh. And you might ask, "When was the last time I thanked my angels?"
|December 2007 (Vol. XX, No. 11)||175.5 KB|
To study angels is to shed light on ourselves, especially those aspects of ourselves that have been put down in our secularized civilizations, our secularized educational systems, and even our secularized worship system. By secularization, I mean anything that sucks the awe out of things.
Life always begins again.
The Angel of Earth embraces the seed
And gives unto it Life.
The kiss of the Angel of Water
Awakens the seed.
The warmth of the Angel of Sun
Makes the seed grow.
The little plant bends in the breeze–
The Angel of Air makes it grow strong.
The little plant is holy.
It bathes in the Lifestream
Of Eternal Order.
I was walking in the open air on a beautiful spring morning. The wheat was growing green, the birds were singing, the dew was sparkling, the smoke rising; a transfiguring light lay over everything; this was only a tiny fragment of Earth – and yet the idea seemed to me not only beautiful, but also so true and obvious that she was an Angel – an Angel so sumptuous, so fresh, so like a flower and at the same time so firm and so composed, who was moving through the sky.
As humans we respond to symbols. We express divine Beauty and insight in our art. If there is a preponderance of art depicting angels with wings, obviously this symbolizes something real within the collective consciousness. Angels appear to humans according to human capacity to accept and understand the appearance. The angels inspire, and that is what is left in our heart after an angel experience.
Amy tightened an arm around his neck and announced in a loud voice, "I was with them big angels, and they runned in front of me and left me and I gotted lost!"
"So it occurs to me," the preacher said, "that many of us may be leaving small angels behind. Are we neglecting to help those who would benefit from our love? ... Just a thought," he said, smiling.
Blessed are You, Who understood my tears,
You comfort me with love's embrace.
Though my eyes cannot see You,
I feel your gentle Presence,
like angel wings lifting my spirit.
You turn my mourning into joy,
I dance to a new song.
Blessed are You, O loving companion
of my heart.
The divine angelic hierarchy is more than a collection of celestial beings; they are both inner and outer states of consciousness, constantly presenting an opportunity to us for our divine awakening. Now, more than ever, is the awareness dawning within the hwe are part and parcel of the great angels of light and loveearts and minds of people everywhere that the Divine is a part of our spiritual ancestry. The souls of the earth are awakening from a long spirited sleep to a great mystery – that . This is the reality which is unfolding before us like a flower, right now in our world and in our lives.
Anna was too filled with joy and wonder to sleep. This was the night for which her soul had prepared her these many years. She heard the celestial music of the saints and the rustle of angel wings. Love had chosen her for this wondrous experience, so she was unafraid. The time was close now, for she smelled the fragrance of roses around her. "Oh, blessed angels, I love my God with all my being."
... walking and talking with an angel is really fundamentally no different from walking and talking with an ordinary human being. Both the angel and the person are expressions of the ultimate mystery; both are emanations of the Beloved ... There is only one sacredness and we all have it.
No sooner had I fallen asleep than I saw standing a maiden dressed in a long white gown and modestly girded. On her head, in hooded fashion, was a white scarf which was so thin and transparent that through it I could see her face, which shone with heavenly beauty. She stood before me, tender, affectionate and loving, and although with downcast eyes, she would at times humbly and kindly look at me. With such a vision, I awoke.
My attraction to her was not sensuous, but somehow pure, devoted and unutterably comforting, since my soul sensed that this was not an earthly maiden, but some heavenly being, the very embodiment of purity and charity.
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