Tuesday, January 14, 2014

How do you feel about angels?

How do you feel about angels?

I'm sorry . . . that was an unexpected question.  It's also a question that's difficult to answer.  Had I asked you how you felt about something simple, like the weather, I'm sure you'd have been happy to tell me.  But, when it comes to angels, you and I, and everyone else, hesitate and grow cautious.

How do we feel about angels . . . ?
We have paintings and statues of angels in our churches, we embody them in art ('The Angel of the North' being the most recent example), and if anyone is particularly kind and helpful we call them 'an angel'.  But do we consider real angels to be a part of our working world . . . or do we look upon them as religious icons, much-loved creatures of fiction?

It's a difficult one.  What's more, if we do accept them as reality, things can get even more difficult.
We've grown accustomed to the concept of multiple forms of electronic communication swirling unseen through our living rooms.  But to accept contemporary angels would mean acknowledging an even more powerful, invisible energy into our lives.
A Biblical angel, safely trapped in stories and stained glass,  is uncontentious . . . a present-day angel is quite a different matter.

Yet, wouldn't you agree that, by and large, we do believe in angels?  We might fumble and mumble, but this belief runs deep.
Let me speak personally.

When I was a small child I had an imaginary friend.  This wasn't surprising, many only children have imaginary friends.  My friend, so I told my parents, was called Gelaveny, and they accepted this new arrival unquestioningly.
She was frequently referred to, came with us on outings, and always had her place at the table.  Her name may have been a little unusual, but there was nothing strange in the way she settled into our family circle.

It wasn't until much later, when I was in my teens, that a thought struck me.  A toddler would have found it hard to say the word 'Angel', what if Gelaveny was a small child's attempt to say 'Angel Aveny' . . . or 'Angel Avening'?
What if Gelaveny wasn't my imaginary friend, but my Guardian Angel?

So, I admit it, I've been fascinated by angels all my life.  But this letter has been prompted by an angelic encounter that's left me totally bemused.  May I share it with you?

For the past six years or more, I've been taking a series of on-line courses on various subjects.  Courses that have attracted students from all over the world and have been extremely well-run, informative and beneficial.  Without exception, they have enriched my life and I owe them a great deal.

A few weeks ago, one of the networks that I've grown to trust and admire offered a course on 'Higher Guidance Training - Accessing Deep Wisdom'.  The Higher Guidance referred to could take the form of your divine essence, your soul, or your Guardian Angel.
I thought of Gelaveny . . . and enrolled.

The course has now been running for a month. Its original premise . . . that, whatever we may say to the contrary, most of us are reluctant to seek Higher Guidance for fear of being asked to do something we don't want to do . . . rang true.
The training has been practical, helpful and down to earth.  Working individually, within groups, and with partners, we have been guided and instructed.

Last week, after careful preparation, we were told that we were ready to make contact.  We had been given ways of discerning whether we were indulging in wishful thinking, and shown ways of testing any response we might receive for its authenticity.  We were advised to take our time and, when it felt right, to try out the techniques that we'd been given.  Nonetheless, a few days later, hoping to contact Gelaveny, I must admit to feeling sceptical.

Listening to the guided meditation, I followed the instructions.  It proved to be a deeply moving experience and, more to the point, an experience which left me with the strong conviction that contact with a higher level had been established.

But, by the following evening, nagging doubts had crept back in.  Was I fooling myself . . . had I really been talking to an angel?
However, sitting there on the sofa, I had a strong sense of Gelaveny behind my right shoulder.  More surprisingly, I felt I was being urged to get up and go to my computer, I was receiving the distinct message that an important email had just arrived.  A little startled at this unexpected development, I didn't want to get up.  It was comfortable on the sofa.  Nonetheless, if I were to test this experiment it was only fair to do what I'd been asked.

I rose to my feet and switched on the computer . . . one new email appeared in the IN box.  It was an email from the course organisers, an email asking me to complete a survey telling them how I was finding the course, and whether I'd made contact with Higher Guidance!

Whatever you feel about angels . . .  thank you for sharing these thoughts.
Thank you for sharing this story.