Do you believe in Angels?

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When I lived in Charlotte, there was a New Age Resource Center around the corner on East Boulevard. They carried books, supplies, and candles, and they also had speakers from out of town. I was just getting to know my now good friends Jamie and Bryan, and they invited me to go with them to hear Keith High speaking about guardian angels at the center. I accepted, but was quite skeptical. I didn’t say anything to Jamie and Bryan about my skepticism because I didn’t want to offend them if they were New Agers.

Keith High was a sweaty white man, bulging out of his polyester dress shirt. He spoke about angels among us and the importance to each of us of our designated Guardian Angels. In the question and answer piece of the evening, he answered earnest questions about angels. “How will we know our guardian angels in the after-life?” “Can I ask my GA for favors?” “Can my angel make me rich?” Answers (You’ll just know, no, and no.) Jamie and Bryan seemed very taken with Keith (because they are teasers). They invited me to their home after the talk, and we settled into the kitchen for tea to review what we had learned from Keith High.

As I was nervously taking my first sip, Jamie asked me about my coven. “Oh,” I answered nonchalantly, “I am not in a coven.” I guessed that these two must be witches if they asked my about my coven, but I wanted them to know I was fine with it if they were witches. I would not judge them.

Both Jamie and Bryan burst out laughing. Jamie said, “What are you talking about? I asked you to look in the oven. I put some rolls in there.”

We still laugh about that to this day. Turns out we were on the same page about Keith High.

Some time after that I went for a psychic reading with Marianne Starnes, pastor of The Brigade of Light Church in Charlotte. Starnes looks like Aunt Bea from Andy Griffith Show, with bright floral dresses, permed hair, and lots of rouge, but she seemed very capable of communicating with the spirit world. During the service, she would go into a trance and channel entities. I was quite convinced about her knowledge of spirit. At my reading, Starnes gave me lots of information that seemed useful. No need to go into that now…She also told me she could see my guardian angels hovering over me. She assured me they would watch over me if I believed in them, especially the one named Jade on my left shoulder.

While there is still part of me that is somewhat skeptical about Jade, I must say that I do have a powerful guardian angel bailing me out of near disasters. I don’t know where to start recounting events in my life where I went too far and teetered on the brink of ruin, but was pulled back by something amazing. For example: when I broke every rule in the Juvenile Justice book and never got fired, even though I was threatened more than once. I even wrote a blog on the down low about the evils of the juvenile justice system (Forbidden!) and got caught. I was suspended for five months With Pay and investigated by the State Bureau of Investigation. The agent questioned me about all the rules I had broken, and I admitted to all of them. He told me that Governor Bev Perdue had read my blog. “Oh, no!” I gasped. “What did she say?”

“She says you are a good writer,” he told me.

And I got a slap on the wrist and a severance package when the facility was closed. Thanks, Jade!

Lately I have had too many instances where I have left my wallet in stores all over Buncombe County: Ingles, Harris-Teeter, Michael’s, Hopey’s, Target. When I discovered each time that I was missing my wallet, I called the last place I had been, and each time I was told that my wallet was there, safe and sound. Nothing missing.

Last night I did it again. We were thrown into a panic by the news media about the storm that is now blowing around us. While I had lots of food at home, I thought I’d stop by Hopey’s and pick up just a few things. I wheeled my cart out to the lot and approached my car. Next to me was an elderly German woman who was hopping mad. “What kind of parking is that?” she demanded. “That’s crazy parking. You don’t know how to park, that’s it!”

I looked at my car and had to agree with her.  My monster truck was parked at an oblique angle across three parking spaces in two different rows. “You’re right,” I admitted. “That’s the worst parking job I have ever seen.”

“You’re crazy!” she insisted.

“I must be crazy, since I parked like that. I’m sorry,” I apologized.

She was still muttering when I wheeled my cart back up to the cart corral.

I arrived home and Ron suggested we go out for dinner before the storm hit. I looked for my purse, and couldn’t find it. Panicking, I called Hopey’s, they looked around the store and couldn’t find it. I told Ron we needed to go back to Hopey’s to see if I had dropped it in the lot.  We sped back over there as I was hyperventilating, worrying about canceling credit cards and getting a new license.

There in the parking lot, in the seat of the wire buggy I had left in the cart corral, was my purse.

All sorts of scenarios went though my mind. If Ron hadn’t decided on going out and I hadn’t noticed my purse was missing, it might have been buried under snow in the parking lot…or stolen. But once again I was saved! For sure, something is watching out over me. Jade, is that you? Thank you. I believe.