Dear Girlfriends,

There are angels among us. I can't prove it - but I know it. Walking, talking messengers of God wrapped in skin. When I write the words it all seems a little spooky - I actually hear the theme song to the Twilight Zone playing in my head. And then I think, "Am I a nut job?"

I'm not sure these "beings" have been sent to earth by God to do a particular job - but I do think that we all experience a "touched by an angel" moment where an important truth is purposefully communicated to us. And I think these occur more frequently than we realize. I started keeping a little journal of my encounters over the past 60 days and I can say unequivocally that I have been angel-bombed!

All of my encounters were with stranger-angels (people I had never laid eyes on before); few lasted longer than a minute (some, only seconds); all exchanges came out of the clear blue sky (when I was least expecting a revelation); and all reminded me of important truths (primarily, Biblical principles).

For this last truth series of the year, I will share with you some of my angel sightings, including those that occur between now and Christmas Day, and will explore with you the lessons I think God is working to teach me through others. Over the course of this series, if you have a close encounter of the angelic kind - I hope you will share your experience with us via my blog.

Surrounded,

Ellen

P.S. I am not making this stuff up:

For he will give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. Psalm 91:11

Posted by Ellen on November 18, 2009 1:23 PM  |  Category: An Angel Bombing

The Date:                                  October 30, 2009; 5:30 p.m. Central Standard Time

The Place:                                 Bass Pro Shop, near Rockwall, TX, a suburb of Dallas

The Human Form:                      Female; 34" tall; 25 pounds; black curly hair; brown eyes.

Dear Girlfriends,

As I mentioned in my introduction to this series, angels seem to appear when you least expect them - and in this case, in an unlikely hangout for heavenly beings (unless you fish): the Bass Pro Shop.

Steve and I had joined our daughter Shauna, son-in-law Adam, and our nearly 2-year-old granddaughter Ava to enjoy the festivities at their community Halloween carnival. To kill time before the carnival started, we stopped in the Bass Pro Shop to allow Ava to watch the fish swim in their oversized aquarium.

After Ava waved bye-bye to the fish, we turned around and paused to take in the preliminary elements of the store's Christmas installation. As we discussed the display, I felt someone looking at me - from below. Looking down, I peered into the eyes of a beautiful child - just staring at me, while I held Ava. I decided the little girl wanted to "network" so I kneeled down to put Ava on the floor. However, Ava didn't seem to notice her and started to walk away. At that moment the angel lifted her arms for me to take her. Instinctively, I picked up the toddler.

Typically, I would never do this. Under normal conditions (when angels aren't involved) I would never even ask to hold someone's child unless it was obvious they need an extra pair of hands. But in one fluid move, the toddler reached and wrapped her arms around my neck. Holding her closely, I realized what I had done and immediately looked at the child's parents (for the first time) for a visual cue of concern or confirmation. I got neither (except from Ava who was, by now, TOTALLY aware of the angel in our midst and was not the least bit joyful that another child was in Sugar's arms).

Trying to console Ava, I put the toddler on the ground next to her. That seemed to appease Ava and she walked back to the Christmas trees; but the angel reached for me again. And this time, I fought back my tears.

For no reason, whatsoever, this angel loved me. I had done nothing to deserve to her love. I had no history with her or her parents. I was a nobody in her world. But, regardless, she loved me.

Sporting the remnants of animal crackers on her chin and a mushy lion's costume, my angel - without ever uttering a word, imparted in one, simple gesture in less than 60 seconds what we should never forget: we are loved for no other reason than because we exist.

For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

When family members judge you, when friends criticize you, or when the world just seems to be closing in - remember that you're loved just because you "are".

Thankful,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on November 25, 2009 11:50 AM  |  Category: An Angel Bombing

The Date:                                  September 2, 2009, 11:35 a.m. Mountain Standard Time

The Place:                                 Enterprise Car Rental Desk, Denver International Airport

The Human Form:                      Female; early 30's; brunette

Dear Girlfriends,

As I stood at the car rental counter, digging in my briefcase, I told the agent, "Let me find my confirmation number for you." For several minutes, he searched for our reservation and I could tell something was amiss. The car rental area was packed with vacationers who, like Steve and me, had arrived to spend the Labor Day weekend amidst a backdrop of aspen trees and the Rocky Mountains. But first, we needed a car to get us out of the airport!

While I fumbled with my folder, a lovely young brunette floated up to the agent and stood with him as he searched for my name in the reservation system. She flashed a smile of confidence as she took my confirmation from me and then, looking into my eyes, something like pity flashed across her face. "This is Enterprise," she said; "your reservation is at National."

Oh.

Of course. I travel monthly and always, my car reservation is with National. But in the excitement of "vacation mode," I hopped with Steve onto the GREEN Enterprise bus rather than the GREEN National bus to take us to the offsite car rental area. What a goof ball.

I apologized for the mistake, then with Steve exited the building. Standing on the sidewalk, we assessed our options, neither of which were pretty; option A: Get back on the Enterprise bus, travel back to the airport, and wait for a National bus, or option B: Walk with our luggage down the road (no sidewalks, mind you) to the National car terminal. As we walked toward the bus, my angel appeared at my side. "Mrs. Miller, Mr. Miller! May I take you over to National?" I stared at her, thinking to myself, "Are you kidding me?"

The heavenly being popped the trunk on a car parked in front of us and opened the back doors of the sedan, waiting for us to take our seats. As she slid in behind the wheel, Steve and I stared at each other in shock. All the way to the National station, she chatted with us on a host of topics and insisted, all the while, that this wasn't a big deal. But it was.

I watched her serve us - people who weren't even her customers - and I was in awe. In awe of her servant's heart; in awe of her grace at such a young age; and in awe that she would desire to go to such an extreme to help us. As someone who is disappointed daily by the lack of customer service extended me by those companies I patron and as a leader of a company, a company with many clients, I soaked up her spirit of customer kindness.

. . . but the one who is the greatest among you must become like the youngest,

and the leader like the servant. Luke 22: 26

Trina, my enterprising angel, reminded me that we can all go a lot further for those we serve - our peers, our team members, our family, our customers - and for this leader, I was reminded to go the distance for those who expect it least.

Learning from a real servant,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on December 16, 2009 9:44 AM  |  Category: An Angel Bombing

The Date:                                  January 14, 2010; 7:50 a.m., Central Standard Time

The Place:                                 Standing in my bathroom; in Dallas, Texas

The Human Form:                      Female; dark skinned; early 30's; dancing brown eyes

Dear Girlfriends,

I was staring into my makeup mirror, applying my mascara, as I listened to the morning's edition of The Today Show. Tragedy had fallen on Haiti less than 48 hours earlier and reporters were interviewing the survivors first-hand to give us, here at home, some insight into the physical and emotional devastation that was playing out on a beautiful island in the Caribbean.   

I was processing the morning news as I regularly do - ears slightly tuned into the speakers in my bathroom, eyes focused on concealing imperfections reflecting in my makeup mirror, while my mind planned and strategized my day. In other words - I was only sort-of, kind-of listening. Until I heard a beautiful lilting voice softly say, "My baby is safe. Now I know God loves me."

I blinked. Then thought, 'What did she say?'  Wanting to ensure that I heard her correctly, I ran to the remote control, to replay the interview. The woman, a young mother, was beaming at the camera, holding her wee one in her arms. My Haitian angel rocked my world reminding me how misguided we all are when it comes to the mind and ways and the love of God.

Had her baby perished, would this devoted mother have believed that God despised her? That he was punishing her or worse - that he was completely apathetic? What if the little one had lost a limb? I wonder what she would have thought God felt towards her then? Or perhaps, what message of hate or punishment would she have believed God was sending to her child?

My dark-skinned angel could not have been more wrong about our God but she could not have been a better mouthpiece for most of us: When life is good: God loves us. When life is bad: He doesn't.

We may not be sitting in rubble. We may not be desperate for a bottle of water. We may not be suffering from broken bones or lacerations and our emotional state might be fine and well today as our children sit safely at their little desks at school. But individually, most of us are as confused spiritually as my Haitian sister. We put God in a box and blame him for nature's wrath and man's frailty and sin. We limited God to only what we know of our own conditional grace and mercy, failing to grasp that his love is beyond anything we can fathom; so often forgetting that he celebrates for us when we have an earthly win and grieves with us when our world comes undone.

Then, Jesus wept. John 11:35

My Haitian angel jolted my being as she reminded me how little we really know about God; how we so often forget that in good times and bad times, in joy and suffering, and times of abundance and scarcity God is with us. And how we forget that his love is not demonstrated by a happy ending on earth - but a better-ever-after in eternity.

Praying for the Haitian angels and all the angels working to save them,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on January 20, 2010 4:44 PM  |  Category: An Angel Bombing

The Date:                      August 21, 2009; 3:30 p.m. Central Standard Time

The Place:                     Nails 2000, Dallas, Texas

The Human Form:          Two women; one approximately 25 years old, the other approximately 50

Dear Girlfriends,

I was in a hurry as I raced into my favorite nail salon for a quick manicure. My heart was pounding and my adrenaline was pumping - not because of my quick pace, but because of fear and anticipation. In my arms - for the first time - I carried my book.

It was an early edition, hot off the press and literally, just minutes before leaving my office, I opened the long-awaited package from my publisher that contained the single copy.

Excitement and a sense of accomplishment washed over me - for about 15 seconds, only to be immediately replaced with FUD: fear of failure; uncertainty of my next steps; and doubt. Lots of doubt: What in the world was I thinking, writing a book?

But like a bystander who can't turn away from the scene of a gory accident, I couldn't put the book down. As I drove to the nail salon, the book sat on my lap, the pink cover looking up at me. Although I placed it in the passenger seat after I parked (not intending to take it into the salon with me) like a newborn, it somehow made its way back into my arms and I rushed in.

Sitting side by side at the first nail station were two women who looked up as I walked in. As I hurried by them, they stopped me. "Whose book is that?" one of them asked. I answered dumbly, "Mine." They giggled, "No. I know it's yours. Who wrote it and what is it about?" A little embarrassed, I told them that I wrote the book and that it was a devotional for women.

The angels getting coats of pink polish swooned over the cover and asked if they could look through it while I had my nails done. I vapor-locked. "Well. Yes. Of course." "Oh, Lord," I thought, "Here it comes." As I handed the book to them, I thought to myself, "This is going to be embarrassing."

I could hear the younger angel reading aloud to the older angel, but I couldn't tell what she was reading...but once, I thought I heard them giggle. By the time I finally got the courage to turn around and look at them, they were both crying. CRYING! Oh, good grief! I never figured it would be so bad that women would cry!

When they finished their manicures, my Nails 2000 angels brought the book back to me, telling me how one of the devotionals particularly touched their hearts. As they left, they hugged me, applauded me, and celebrated with me. In less than 60 seconds, two total strangers - one named Caroline and the other named Venise - angel-bombed me with encouragement.

Worry weighs a person down; an encouraging word cheers a person up. Proverbs 12:25

My angels could have kept to themselves - but instead they started a friendly exchange with a total stranger. My angels could have curbed their enthusiasm - reserving their positive energy for each other or someone else. But my angels with the perfectly-manicured nails taught me a powerful lesson on August 21, 2009: You never know when your extension of warmth and kindness might just turn another person's FUD into absolute delight!

Getting "the full treatment" at my salon,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on February 19, 2010 5:40 PM  |  Category: An Angel Bombing

The Date:                      October 22, 2009; 10:00 a.m., Central Standard Time

The Place:                     Dallas/Ft. Worth Airport; Terminal A

The Human Form:          Male; appx. 80 years old; 5'4"; 150 lbs; wearing a red volunteer vest

Dear Girlfriends,

Not all angel sightings are positive experiences. Sometimes angels are sent to "expose us" for who and what we are; in my case: a spoiled brat.

Steve and I had arrived at the airport, excited for our long weekend in LA. Approaching the self-serve kiosk, I whipped out my American Advantage Platinum Card to check in for the flight. As our first class boarding passes were printing, a little bitty angel-man, sporting a red vest, appeared out of nowhere and leaned into me, while pointing at my roller bag, to say: "You can't carry that bag on the airplane."

"Sir," I said in my most patronizing voice (the stupid one I find myself using with small children and old folks) - "I travel several times a month; this bag has flown millions of miles in the overhead compartment." I smiled sweetly. He glared. "No. It won't. You've gotta check it." I tried again to reassure Mr. Volunteer that "Yes. It will fit." But he insisted, "You gotta check that bag. It's too big." Geez. Who put this little man in charge, today?

Hoping he would get distracted, I faked a phone call (very mature, Ellen), waiting for him to go harass someone else. Finally, he strolled away but as I rounded the corner, I could see he was talking to a security agent and pointing. At me! Oh. Good. Grief.

As I approached, the agent directed me to the wire frame bag "tester" to prove that the bag would fit. I protested and flashed my Platinum status but she sided with the angel and said, "Ma'am (urrggwww...) he's just doing his job." I thought to myself, "REALLY? What job is that? Making my life totally miserable on this beautiful Thursday morning?"

After a bit of pushing and pulling, the bag passed the "fit test" and we proceeded, just as the angel fluttered by again. It was then that the sound of his wings revealed something unbecoming about my character that morning: I was suffering from a bad case of entitlement.

I think some of us tend to get "uppity" when we're challenged and those of us who aren't "uppity" are just plain spoiled brats. We assume rules should be broken (or at least bent) for us because our status exempts us from "playing along".

My angel-bombing in Terminal A humbled me as I placed my "just the-right-size-it-will-fit" bag on the security belt. As I kicked off my shoes to walk through the detector, I flashed back to times when I have been disappointed by others' poor form and was further embarrassed by my actions. It took an angel to hold a mirror in front of me to see my own shortcomings.

Placing my roller bag in the overhead compartment on the plane, I thanked God for a volunteer angel who showed me that in the blink of an eye, we can go from kind, Godly women to total self-serving all-about-me brats.

Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, gentleness, and patience. Colossians 3:12

I failed my angel-test in Terminal A, but you can bet I'll be clothed in patience and gentleness the next time a little man in a red vest gets in my face. And I'm sure it will be sooner, rather than later. God doesn't miss a trick.

Packing for Toronto,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on March 30, 2010 5:23 PM  |  Category: An Angel Bombing

The Date:                      July 19, 2009; 12:20 p.m., Central Standard Time            

The Place:                     The Bridge, Dallas' Homeless Shelter

The Human Form:          A big black guy, sporting a gold tooth, who looked like he could smoosh me with one hand

Dear Girlfriends,

It is only fitting that I end this series on my angel-sightings with the first one that really caught my attention.

As was typical on a third Sunday, Steve and I were serving lunch to our city's homeless; Steve was slinging hash behind the serving line and, as was customary, I was playing waitress as I raced around the dining hall refilling water glasses.

My customers and I have grown comfortable with one another. I know that for the most part, they're good people who have just fallen on tough times, and they believe I'm Sandy Duncan. Regardless of my protests, they're convinced. Geez - how embarrassing to be 50 years old and have the physique of Peter Pan!

Anyway - on that hot July afternoon, I was "in the zone", running around the room with my water pitcher (you can imagine trying to rehydrate 500 people when it's 100 degrees outside), when I saw a woman place her tray on the table a few feet away. New to our lunch patrons, I approached her from the left and bending down, as I do with all of the folks there, looked into her eyes. I softly addressed her, "Ma'am, would you like some water today?" But instead of the customary positive, grateful response, she sprung from her chair, knocking it backwards. As she yelled at me to "stop looking at her," I lowered my eyes and backed away. I'll be honest: In my nearly two years of serving, it was the only time I have been nervous or frightened.

The lady continued to yell as she left the dining hall - her tray of food intact on the table. I took a deep breath and was walking back to retrieve her tray when a man, bigger than three of me, reached for my arm. I held my breath and then he asked: "Are you OK?"

My tall, dark, homeless angel - whose troubles that day were way more serious than my startle - was genuinely concerned for me. I'm sure I was pale as a ghost, but as he flashed his "streets of gold" smile and began to assure me that I had done nothing wrong and that she was "just sick," I was quickly comforted.

My homeless angel taught me, if asked at just the right moment, "Are you OK?" can be a powerful question of compassion turning one's vulnerability and fear into assurance.

I also realized that, if asked at just the right moment, "Are you OK?" can also be a generous offer to join someone in their despair transforming loneliness and isolation into a community of two.

But when asked by a total stranger that hot July day, "Are you OK?"  became a simple request to join someone else in her humanity. These three little words were the catalyst that connected our hearts and souls - if only for a moment.

"...make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind let each of you regard one another as more important than himself; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." - Philippians 1:2-4

I will close this series for now but am sure I will return to it in the future because if there is anything I learned on July 19, 2009, it was to pay attention to the heavenly and earthly beings who bless my life every day.

On the lookout,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on May 3, 2010 1:26 PM  |  Category: An Angel Bombing