The Angels Among Us
(audio version)
Romans 10: 9: “…because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”
2010 began with such hope and promise for me and my husband Kelly. Kelly, who had suffered for years from Type 1 diabetes, had undergone a successful kidney transplant and was off dialysis, and after being confined to bed for nearly two years with a horribly broken foot made worse by an unsuccessful surgery, was up and walking again with a brace. He had avoided the ordeal of amputation, and the doctors were astonished by his “miracle foot,” a term they used when describing the healing. Needless to say, we were thrilled, and both privately and publicly attributed Kelly’s progress to God’s mercies. The day-to-day burdens of working a high stress job requiring many hours, caring for the home, and caring for my chronically ill husband were being lifted, and I also began to recover from the deep fatigue that seemed to surround me like a fog. Kelly and I truly believed we had turned a significant corner, and joyfully celebrated our 14th wedding anniversary. We began to nurse the hope of a normal lifespan for Kelly, and with it, a more normal life for us as a married couple. Kelly, with his typical generosity, insisted that we mark the occasion with the purchase of a beautiful antique diamond watch that he knew I admired as an anniversary present for me. The back of the watch read: “Carlo, Christmas 1936.” I often wondered about Carlo, whether he was still alive, whether the recipient of his gift was still alive. I prayed for them and hoped that no dire financial need was the cause of this watch being part of an estate sale, and, ultimately, my good fortune.
We decided to continue our celebration of Kelly’s healing by taking a vacation over the Christmas holidays in Florida. It was our first vacation in five years, and I was so happy to see Kelly enjoying himself at last: bubbling over with praise for a beautiful sunrise we saw from the plane, practicing walking on the handicap ramp to the beach, taking in the gorgeous ocean views, sounds, and smells. We enjoyed a delicious Christmas dinner and unwrapping gifts with my Mother and a friend from my old social work days who had moved to the area. Over the next few days, the weather was beautiful, and we had so many plans for additional fun that we decided to extend our vacation. I phoned my boss and was given permission to do so.
On that same night, Kelly and I were watching TV while lying in bed, and suddenly he sat straight up and said he felt “funny.” Within seconds he had a fixed stare and couldn’t speak. He was rushed to the local hospital where the doctors told me he had suffered a massive hemorrhagic stroke and serious brain damage. I was told that the loving, brilliant Kelly I knew was gone and that on the very slim chance he would regain consciousness, he would be extremely disabled with minimal brain function; he was in a vegetative state.
Over the next few days, the hospital staff began to discuss with me the option of removing life support as there were no signs of any meaningful brain activity. Time seemed to telescope. I was horrified and confused, but with the help of family and a wonderful local Methodist minister, made the decision to let him go. I know that is what he would have wanted.
Completely devastated, I reached out to several dear friends and family members for comfort. My wonderful friend from my MSU college days, Steve, gave me the best advice. Knowing how much I love nature, he suggested I get up the next morning and hike my (and Kelly’s) favorite beach at sunrise. Little did I know what awaited me there.
While walking the next morning up the beach towards Bathtub Reef, I cried and prayed to God that He send me a sign that Kelly was with Him and all right. The sun pierced cloud groupings in bright shafts, and fishermen were intermittently scattered on the beach. Suddenly, one of the fishermen near me caught a beautiful pompano and I approached him to admire his catch (I love the sport of fishing). He willingly showed me his fish and then startled me by removing his baseball cap to show me a long, jagged scar and announce, “And I give glory to Jesus that I am here fishing!” He proceeded to tell me about a terrible accident that he had been in and how the Lord, against all medical odds, had healed him. It dawned on me that maybe I was supposed to be meeting this man today, and I told him so. I also told him what had just happened with Kelly. Looking me straight in the eye, he surprised me by whipping a Bible out of the rear pocket in his jeans and having me read aloud Romans 10:9 (see above) and affirm, as my belief, that Christ is Lord and that He arose. Still looking straight at me, he said: “You will see your husband again.” I decided I had interrupted his fishing long enough but thought to ask his name before I left. He replied, “Carlos.” I didn’t see the man on my return hike down the beach and never saw him again over the years on recurrent hikes on that same beach.
Who was this man? Upon recounting this story to various Christian friends, it was suggested that he was an angel, sent as an answer to my prayer for assurance that Kelly was with God, and that I would see him again. As further proof that this was so, the man’s name was Carlos, one letter off from the name on my treasured watch commemorating my last anniversary as Kelly’s wife. That’s close enough for me. Whether or not Carlos was really an angelic being, he certainly was an angel that day reminding me of God’s ultimate plan for us and his goodness.
Prayer focus: Those who have lost a spouse recently.
Joyce Reynolds
(audio version)
Romans 10: 9: “…because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”
2010 began with such hope and promise for me and my husband Kelly. Kelly, who had suffered for years from Type 1 diabetes, had undergone a successful kidney transplant and was off dialysis, and after being confined to bed for nearly two years with a horribly broken foot made worse by an unsuccessful surgery, was up and walking again with a brace. He had avoided the ordeal of amputation, and the doctors were astonished by his “miracle foot,” a term they used when describing the healing. Needless to say, we were thrilled, and both privately and publicly attributed Kelly’s progress to God’s mercies. The day-to-day burdens of working a high stress job requiring many hours, caring for the home, and caring for my chronically ill husband were being lifted, and I also began to recover from the deep fatigue that seemed to surround me like a fog. Kelly and I truly believed we had turned a significant corner, and joyfully celebrated our 14th wedding anniversary. We began to nurse the hope of a normal lifespan for Kelly, and with it, a more normal life for us as a married couple. Kelly, with his typical generosity, insisted that we mark the occasion with the purchase of a beautiful antique diamond watch that he knew I admired as an anniversary present for me. The back of the watch read: “Carlo, Christmas 1936.” I often wondered about Carlo, whether he was still alive, whether the recipient of his gift was still alive. I prayed for them and hoped that no dire financial need was the cause of this watch being part of an estate sale, and, ultimately, my good fortune.
We decided to continue our celebration of Kelly’s healing by taking a vacation over the Christmas holidays in Florida. It was our first vacation in five years, and I was so happy to see Kelly enjoying himself at last: bubbling over with praise for a beautiful sunrise we saw from the plane, practicing walking on the handicap ramp to the beach, taking in the gorgeous ocean views, sounds, and smells. We enjoyed a delicious Christmas dinner and unwrapping gifts with my Mother and a friend from my old social work days who had moved to the area. Over the next few days, the weather was beautiful, and we had so many plans for additional fun that we decided to extend our vacation. I phoned my boss and was given permission to do so.
On that same night, Kelly and I were watching TV while lying in bed, and suddenly he sat straight up and said he felt “funny.” Within seconds he had a fixed stare and couldn’t speak. He was rushed to the local hospital where the doctors told me he had suffered a massive hemorrhagic stroke and serious brain damage. I was told that the loving, brilliant Kelly I knew was gone and that on the very slim chance he would regain consciousness, he would be extremely disabled with minimal brain function; he was in a vegetative state.
Over the next few days, the hospital staff began to discuss with me the option of removing life support as there were no signs of any meaningful brain activity. Time seemed to telescope. I was horrified and confused, but with the help of family and a wonderful local Methodist minister, made the decision to let him go. I know that is what he would have wanted.
Completely devastated, I reached out to several dear friends and family members for comfort. My wonderful friend from my MSU college days, Steve, gave me the best advice. Knowing how much I love nature, he suggested I get up the next morning and hike my (and Kelly’s) favorite beach at sunrise. Little did I know what awaited me there.
While walking the next morning up the beach towards Bathtub Reef, I cried and prayed to God that He send me a sign that Kelly was with Him and all right. The sun pierced cloud groupings in bright shafts, and fishermen were intermittently scattered on the beach. Suddenly, one of the fishermen near me caught a beautiful pompano and I approached him to admire his catch (I love the sport of fishing). He willingly showed me his fish and then startled me by removing his baseball cap to show me a long, jagged scar and announce, “And I give glory to Jesus that I am here fishing!” He proceeded to tell me about a terrible accident that he had been in and how the Lord, against all medical odds, had healed him. It dawned on me that maybe I was supposed to be meeting this man today, and I told him so. I also told him what had just happened with Kelly. Looking me straight in the eye, he surprised me by whipping a Bible out of the rear pocket in his jeans and having me read aloud Romans 10:9 (see above) and affirm, as my belief, that Christ is Lord and that He arose. Still looking straight at me, he said: “You will see your husband again.” I decided I had interrupted his fishing long enough but thought to ask his name before I left. He replied, “Carlos.” I didn’t see the man on my return hike down the beach and never saw him again over the years on recurrent hikes on that same beach.
Who was this man? Upon recounting this story to various Christian friends, it was suggested that he was an angel, sent as an answer to my prayer for assurance that Kelly was with God, and that I would see him again. As further proof that this was so, the man’s name was Carlos, one letter off from the name on my treasured watch commemorating my last anniversary as Kelly’s wife. That’s close enough for me. Whether or not Carlos was really an angelic being, he certainly was an angel that day reminding me of God’s ultimate plan for us and his goodness.
Prayer focus: Those who have lost a spouse recently.
Joyce Reynolds
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