Angels on Your Shoulder

Angels on Your Shoulder

This one really touched my heart

A friend of mine sent me this article a number of years ago. I did some research and Father John Powell did write this story. So I give thanks to him and to Tommy. It is a wonderful reminder that seekers seldom find, it is by opening our heart and allowing love to be our guide that the magic of life happens.
hands and heart
This photo is of a heart rattle given to me by Georgia, who also took the picture.
Raw Elements Photography
John Powell, a retired professor at Loyola University writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy.
Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith. That was the first day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders.
It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind it isn’t what’s on your head but what’s in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy under “S” for strange—very strange.
Tommy turned out to be the atheist in residence in my Theology of Faith class. He constantly objected to, smirked at or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.
When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a slightly cynical tone, “Do you think I’ll ever find God?”
I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. “No!” I said very emphatically.
“Oh,” he responded, “I thought that was the product you were pushing.”
I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out, “Tommy! I don’t think you’ll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!” He shrugged a little and left my class and my life.
I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line, “He will find you!” At least I thought it was clever.
Later I heard that Tommy had graduated and I was duly grateful. Then a sad report. I heard Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me.
When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted, and the long hair had fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice firm for the first time, I believe. “Tommy, I’ve thought about you so often. I hear you are sick,” I blurted out.
“Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It’s a matter of weeks.”
“Can you talk about it, Tom?” I asked.
“Sure, what would you like to know?” “What’s it like to be twenty-four and dying?”
“Well, it could be worse” he replied.
“Like what?”
“Well, like being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze, seducing women and making money are the real ‘biggies’ in life.”
I began to look through my mental file cabinet under “S” where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)
“But what I really came to see you about,” Tom said, “is something you said to me on the last day of class.” (He remembered!) He continued, “I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, ‘No!’ which surprised me. Then you said, ‘But He will find you.’ I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time.” (My clever line. He thought about that a lot!)
“But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me it was malignant, that’s when I got serious about locating God. When the malignancy spread into vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying. Then you quit. Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may or may not be there, I just quit. I decided I didn’t really care about God, about an after life, or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable.
“I thought about you and your class and remembered something else you said: ‘The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them.’
“So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper at the time when I approached him. ‘Dad. “Yes, what?” he asked without lowering the newspaper. ‘Dad, I would like to talk with you.’ “Well, talk.” ‘I mean it’s really important.’ The newspaper came down three slow inches. “What is it?” ‘Dad, I love you. I just wanted you to know that.’
“Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside.
“The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me.
“It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me and we hugged each other and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared things we had been keeping secret for so many years. I was only sorry about one thing; that I waited so long. Here I was, just beginning to open up to the people I had actually been close to.
“Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn’t come to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, ‘C’mon, jump through. C’mon, I’ll give you three days, three weeks.’
“Apparently God does things in his own way and at his own hour. But the important thing is that he was there. He found me. You were right. He found me even after I stopped looking for him.”
“Tommy,” I practically gasped, “I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying the surest way to find God is not to make him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that. He said, ‘God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.’ Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it up to me now. Would you come to my Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn’t be half as effective as if you were to tell them.”
“Ooh, I was ready for you, but I don’t know if I’m ready for your class.”
“Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call.”
In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date. However, he never made it.
He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class.
Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined.
Before he died, we talked one last time. “I’m not going to make it to your class,” he said.
“I know, Tom.”
“Will you tell them for me? Will you tell the whole world for me?”
“I will, Tom. I’ll tell them. I’ll do my very best.”
So, to all of you who have been kind enough to read this simple statement about love, thank you. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven, I told them, Tommy, as best I could.

  • Liara Covert

    A very profound tale indeed. Much truth can be found in the words “You won’t find God.” We each rediscover he has never left our side, but only when we’re ready to discard all our own misgivings, brainwashing, and negativity that distracts us from what we know inside.

  • susan

    Thanks Liara.

  • Rosie Huart

    A very long time ago I remember reading one of John Powell’s books. The story I remember was when his own father was dying. He and his mother were standing in the hall and his mother said to John, “Your father always loved you.” And John’s comment was, “Why didn’t he ever tell me?” I’ve told this story many times. And apparently John has too.

  • susan

    Thanks Rosie.

  • http://AddaURLtothiscomment Lois Neville

    Very beautiful..brought tears to my 86 yr old eyes. I thought of my 61 yr old son who says he is an athiest. I told him “I don’t believe you because you sAID TO ME, ‘I LOVE YOU MOM’and I replied “God is Love”. David is very loving and phones me whenever he sees a beautiful sunset to say he was thinking of me annd then says how much he loves me.What more could a mother wish for?

  • http://AddaURLtothiscomment Susan

    Dear Lois,

    I am so glad you have such a loving son and such an open heart. Thanks for stopping by and sharing.

    My dad believed dead was dead but I know the moment he died he was embraced by God’s love.

    With love,

  • Luke

    Susan, did you also find in your “research” that the same Father Powell also admitted to sexually abusing six or more children?

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