I Believe in Angels
Shortly after moving to Park City in 2004, I met a woman named Jane. Like me, Jane was eight months pregnant and had recently moved from the Bay Area. Jane invited me to be in her newly formed mediation circle. At the time, I was more familiar with the word circle than meditation, my curiosity pulled me to say “yes.” For the next several years, I sat with six beautiful women every week, shared soulful conversations, meditation and angel cards. I didn’t even know what an angel card was prior to joining this circle. I soon came to love and appreciate the ritual.
Angel cards come in a deck of spiritual messages that are used to guide us through our messy lives with messages designed to connect with the reader’s intuition. There is a guidebook that accompanies the deck that elaborates on the message. I carry a well-loved deck with me anytime I travel with friends. At the end of a girls’ weekend, usually on Sunday over coffee, we each take a turn and pull a card.
When it is my turn, I hold the deck close to my heart. I fan the deck or shuffle. Sometimes I ask a question to the deck. And then I pull a card reminding myself that there is no good card or bad one. The card I pull may or may not resonate with me in that exact moment. Sometimes, a few days later something will happen, I will remember my card and the message makes sense. Or sometimes, the card I pull is for someone else in the circle. I stay open to the message. More often than not, the card I pulled is exactly what I needed to hear in that moment.
It doesn’t feel accidental.
I believe in angels. I sense that I am surrounded by spirit. I am grateful for the extra support. My mom, a devout Catholic, feels the the same thing about her Saints. When I lose something, my mom would encourage me to pray to St. Anthony. I’d mumble “St Anthony, St Anthony, please come around. My (fill-in-the-blank) has been lost and must be found.” Often my missing item would appear.
I don’t know if it was an angel or St Anthony but I one of them helped me out last week. I experienced a sprinkle of divine support in Sedona, Arizona. After a four-hour hike in the stunning red rock desert, my friends and I drove through some traffic about 20 minutes back to the house. Exhausted, dusty, and very thirsty, I unpacked my pack and quickly realized my prescription glasses were missing. Argh.
With an hour to spare before dinner, I hopped back into the car and returned to the trailhead. I wanted to check the parking lot and the trailhead in the hopes that I dropped my glasses. I pulled in and looked around. When I didn’t see them, I had a moment of reconciliation with myself. They weren’t there. I walked across the street to the trail and again, nothing. And then a gentleman was walking through the gate and I said to him, “I lost my glasses. You didn’t by chance see them did you?”
He said, “there’s a pair right here. Are they yours?”
Yes! Yes! I was so excited! My glasses were hanging on the inside of the fence: dusty and intact. I would have never seen them and I knew I was very lucky. “Thank you! Thank you!” I said to the hiker. “I am a hugger. Can I give you a hug?” In hindsight, I realize that was more than a bit awkward, but he said, “Sure, although I’m not the one who found them.” I didn’t care. I was really happy. And as I drove back to the house wearing my glasses, I felt very connected to the Earth and spirit.
One of the many things I love about my work is being in the room to witness birth. It’s Holy and humbling - a miracle. It renews my love and belief in Spirit, angels and the Divine.