So my theory about the car accidents is that my guardian angel saved my butt a few times because I hadn’t loved God well enough, pursued Him passionately enough, clung to Him tightly enough.
I used to pray to my angel by wrote.
My prayer life at those times was very dry.
Then he popped up as an Uber driver one day.
How did I know it was him?
Let me break it down for you nerds. Here’s the data.
- He was a dude. Ok, angels don’t technically have gender, but I always pictured mine as an older, protective male.
- He told me everything I needed to know to set my heart at rest.
- He was exactly like me and super fun, wise, and calming.
- His excuse for being in the vehicle was thin, at best.
- He didn’t act like my regular earthly brothers typically do.
- He came from a good source (a man of God).
- He never, not once, mentioned having a family.
I remember everything about him…except…I just can’t remember his name.
These days we have a deeper, more comfortable relationship.
I imagine this too to be a component of Heaven.
I think maybe he will be waiting for me, just inside the gate, with a wink and a smile and an outstretched hand, and we will dance the most perfect waltz…