Angels Through My Fingers

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We can experience angels in so many different ways. Some tell me they feel "an inner glow," a radiance round about them. Others hear music and all their senses say, "Such notes, such harmony could only come from out of this world." Then there are those who report their angels arrive with a lovely fragrance.

My friend Homer says he senses an angel near when he discovers himself laughing a certain laugh. "Sometimes, he says, "I laugh so long I almost miss the message."

For me, angels have often made themselves known by the touch of a hand. A lift, a pressure, a movement, a warning, a beckoning. One evening I felt more than God's hand; this time I felt the touch of God through my fingers.

It was supper time and I drove into my garage with high anticipation. But as I turned off the ignition, my fingers simply wouldn't let go.

"What's going on here?" I asked out loud. From somewhere in my heart came the answer.

"Go see Roy." Plain. Clear. No question. From that place in my soul where God and I had dialogue, I knew he was giving an order.

"But it's supper time," I argued. I tend to argue with the Lord when I'm hungry.

"Supper can wait, Charlie. Go."

"But why? Roy was in church yesterday. He looked fine."

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