Are not all angels spirits in the divine service, sent to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation?
HEBREWS 1:14
A wispy breath of air played across my face, just enough to tickle my nose and creep across my cheeks. I heard a faraway whisper. It was so faint that I strained to hear, but I just . . . couldn’t . . . quite . . . catch up with it.
I awakened with a start. Did someone just call my name? Lifting my head, I looked around the room. The Texas sun streamed through the white shutters adorning my bedroom windows, and the house was quiet. I decided it must be my imagination and flopped back down onto my pillow. But I couldn’t go back to sleep. Something felt different.
I am not alone.
A tiny knot of concern crept its way into my stomach, and as my other senses fully awakened, I became aware of a strange scent. Eyes closed, I inhaled deeply, trying to place the vague hint of something in the air. Roses. It smelled like my favorite white roses.
Where in the world is that coming from? I heard the soft jingle of a dog collar, and this time, I propped myself up on my elbows and looked over to where my whippet, Cody, was nestled in his bed on the floor. His head was up, nose tilted to the ceiling, sniffing the air.
He smells it, too.
Curiosity won over the desire to pull the covers over my head, so I climbed out of bed and slipped into a robe. I paused at the end of the bed to gently tuck blankets over my two smaller pups, who were snuggled together in deep, sweet slumber. A moment of melancholy washed over my heart as I watched them sleep, remembering the sadness of dreams unfulfilled, but Cody’s gentle nudge brought me back to the matter at hand. Ears at attention, Cody led the way out of the master bedroom, and together we padded quietly through the house. The smell of roses was much stronger as we entered the kitchen. Nose still in the air, Cody trotted over and sat by the back door while I continued through the house in search of the source of this mysterious scent.
My senses were on full alert as I peeked into closets and peered around doorways. I climbed the staircase to the second floor and searched through bedrooms and office, but found absolutely nothing. As I headed back toward the stairs, I paused in my favorite room in the house—a spacious living area decorated in a safari theme with windows spanning the length of the room. I gazed out the windows overlooking the backyard.
This was my little piece of heaven. Sunlight danced in my gardens, diffused by the leaves of the many giant oak trees gracing our yard. The sparkling, deep-blue waters of the free-form pool undulated gently in the early morning breeze. I sighed. This view never failed to bring peace into the weariest of souls. Suddenly, the air around me was saturated with the fragrance of roses, and then, just as suddenly, the scent disappeared. It was as if the air was gently teasing, pulling me back into this mysterious game of hide-and-seek.
Perplexed, I headed back toward the kitchen, where the scent was most intense. As I entered it, a brilliant flash of light caught my eye, and my attention was drawn to the windows looking out into the backyard. A shimmer of bright blue sparkled once, twice, three times between the stone columns in the garden beside the pool. Edging closer to the window to get a better look, I heard an odd sound. It sounded like laughter—soft, musical laughter. It was coming from everywhere at once, but I still could not see anything. A slight chill ran up my spine, and my skin tingled as if the air was charged with electricity. I began to wish my husband, Guy, had not left for work so early this morning. Cody began to whine and paw frantically at the door.
“What is it, boy? Is something out there?” Cody answered back with a sharp ruff. Hesitantly, I opened the door for him and could barely push it all the way open before he bolted outside and disappeared from sight.
At that very moment, a sudden rush of wind blew in through the door. Knocked off balance, I stumbled backward into the kitchen as the door slammed itself shut. The wind softened in its intensity and moved to encircle me. Now I knew I was not alone! As I stood embraced in this oddly peaceful, warm whirlwind, the scent of white roses grew stronger. There was an extraordinary gentleness about this wind as it caressed my face, lifted and tossed my hair, and playfully twisted and ruffled my robe and nightgown. And there was something else in the wind—a presence. There was a deep sense of invitation in this gentle tempest, as if it were calling my name and ever so delicately encouraging me to step outside. With trembling hands, I opened the door again and slowly walked out onto the back porch, propelled by this strange wind. My heart pounded in anticipation . . . of what?
As I stepped outside, I heard a soft giggle. Turning my head to follow the sound, my gaze fell upon the table and chairs arranged next to the garden. Cody stood there, panting happily as if to say “Look what I found, Mom!” My heart momentarily stopped as I witnessed the source of his excitement. There, standing by the table under the large blue-patterned umbrella, was the loveliest woman I had ever seen.
Her radiant face was framed in a halo of soft, wavy, pure white hair, and her blue eyes twinkled. She was dressed in a cornflower-blue gown that sparkled as if encrusted with thousands of tiny diamonds.
“Good morning, Jennifer,” she said. Her smile radiated pure joy. “I’ll bet you are surprised to see me.”
Surprised didn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling. My mouth dropped open, and I stood frozen in midstep. I realized the wind that had carried me outside had disappeared.
“My name is Margaret, dear one, and I am your guardian angel. I have had the blessed privilege of watching over you your entire life.”
Somehow, deep down, I knew she was speaking the truth. My mind spun as I tried to comprehend what was happening. This couldn’t be possible . . . could it?
“W-why . . . y-you’re an angel? Like, the heaven kind of . . . of angel?” I stammered in disbelief.
“That would be me.” This angel named Margaret nodded. I could tell she enjoyed this moment immensely.
“What a special day this is,” she continued. “Happy birthday to you, Jennifer.” With a jolt, I came back to my senses. My birthday. I had completely forgotten!
Margaret laughed at my startled expression and said, “Come on over here, dear girl—you need to sit down. You look a bit shell-shocked. Come, sit with me in your beautiful garden.” She gathered her gown about her with one hand and sat down in one of the chairs, patting the chair next to her.
Cody scampered away as I crossed over to the table and slid into the empty chair. Margaret was right—my knees did feel a little weak.
“I had completely forgotten about my birthday,” I admitted. “I guess I was a little distracted this morning by the house smelling of roses. Thank you for remembering.”
“How could I not remember?” Margaret said. “I was here when you celebrated early. It was such a nice party, Jennifer.”
As Margaret spoke, I let my gaze wander over the backyard, and my thoughts returned to the recent evening when family and friends had gathered with my husband and me as we’d hosted my dream garden party. On the lawn, tables had been adorned with white linen tablecloths, votive candles, and lovely flower arrangements. And the food! We dined on a scrumptious barbecue feast, including the best bacon-wrapped shrimp this side of the Mississippi. Oh, what wonderful fellowship we shared.
“It was a magical evening, Margaret,” I replied, breaking my reverie. “I love birthdays, because life is a privilege worth celebrating. My life has not always been easy, so I cherish these times of celebration with the people I love. God is so good.”
“Yes, he is, child,” Margaret agreed. Then she reached over and took my hand in hers. “And today heaven is celebrating you. Your life, with all of its ups and downs and twists and turns, is an infinite joy to the One who created you. He alone knows the deepest desires of your heart.”
Tears began to form in my eyes as Margaret continued.
“That is why I am here this morning, Jennifer. As a special birthday gift to you from your Heavenly Father, I have been sent to fulfill a particularly intriguing desire of yours.”
Intriguing desire? Thoughts swirled in my head, my tears instantly forgotten.
Margaret watched me think for a moment and then leaned closer, as if she was about to tell me a secret. In a quiet voice she said, “What if I were to tell you, Jennifer, that what you experience in this world, with your earthly senses, is only a very small part of a much more expansive reality? Does this resonate with you?”
My eyes widened as a stunning realization hit me. I knew exactly what Margaret was referring to. “Oh, Margaret”—I breathed in wonder—“for years I’ve felt like I have been on the edge of understanding something important, something just outside my grasp. I’ve had some strange, almost mysterious experiences that I didn’t understand, and they raised questions about who I am, what my purpose is, and, most important, whether it is possible to connect with the Creator.”
Gulp. Now, sitting here under the umbrella with my beautiful visitor, I realized that it is indeed possible. The Divine had just entered my garden!
Margaret laughed, thrilled at my dawning amazement, and I was struck by how unusual and otherworldly her voice sounded, as if accompanied by the sound of tiny chimes.
“Your sense, Jenn, of the importance of these mysterious experiences is more accurate than you realize. You, and others you have encountered, have been experiencing the intersection of the realms of heaven and earth, and I have come to guide you on a journey into the place where these two realms meet. It is in this place that you will discover answers to your deepest questions.”
Margaret’s confirming words ignited a tiny spark of courage inside me.
“I am so glad you are here to help me with this,” I said. “I have been afraid to talk about these mysterious events for fear that people would think I was out of my mind.”
“Ah.” Margaret nodded, and then asked, “Tell me, child, what exactly is it you have been afraid to talk about?”