Mark W. Holt's Journey

Traded to the Angels

I believe that there are times when we are not alone and we don't even know it. We look around, see nothing or no one and think that we are utterly alone in our own part of the universe. We may even look at the emptiness that surrounds us and feel the pain of being alone- like we have just dropped a rock into a deep, dark hole and have yet to hear the thudding sound to know that it has landed on the bottom. The emptiness reverberates through our soul. If we merely open our hearts up to the possibilities, we find faint hints that perhaps, we are not alone. Hints that can not be seen with our human eyes.

In difficult times, there are beings that surround us and follow us into the dark places that we have to go, but fear and do not want to tread. These beings vary in size and purpose. They are angels. God sends them but they do not make their presence known in a way that we can relate. Before you discount these claims, consider a the evidence:

I walked in briskly to the hospital where my brother-in-law lay fighting the virus that attacked unmercifully at his digestive system. Fear seized my heart and I fought the urge to run away and hide. This fear was a fear of what I didn't want to find when I entered Mark's room ( as I was about to do).
I had a living, vibrant fear of him dying and its grasp on me was hard to bear. If felt like if I didn't have to face him in the hospital, in that painful state, in that room, with all of the equipment, death wouldn't happen. I could avoid it altogether. During the course of Mark's five year battle with Hodgkin's, there were always situations that I didn't want to face.
Situations that were so out of my control that I could no longer stand the sight of them, thus, I did what a lot of people do, I retreated into denial and avoidance.
One particular night, my usual denial and avoidance routine wouldn't work because I had an important task. Eating had become very difficult for Mark and it had been days since he consumed food and was in danger of being malnourished. His only request was something I could provide. He wanted tomato basil soup from Nordstroms. I just happened to have picked up his favorite and now I was walking the long halls of the hospital- soup in hand. The only problem was my fear. I couldn't get it under control and for this, I stalled for time and couldn't bring myself to the red elevators that would take me to the fifth floor. Although not recommended, I took my soup into the nearest restroom and fought the fainting spell that my fear brought upon me.
Clutching the gray Formica sink counter top, I bowed my head whispered,
''God help me."

I lifted my head slowly to the mirror above the sinks and looked at my reflection. It was apparent that I wouldn't have the strength to deliver my tomato soup.

Just when I was certain that I would have to leave the hospital and eat the soup myself, a slight wind rushed over the tops of my shoulders. I lifted myself, standing fully upright and caught a glimpse of a light moving in the reflection of the mirror.
Odd.
As I turned to leave the bathroom, I felt a rushing of wind, a whoosh, following me as I turned.
I turned again to face the sink.
Whoosh!

At the very moment of the 'whoosh,' a strange blanket of courage covered me from my head to my feet. I felt warm. It was the type of warmth that overtook my insides muffled the fear. I stood up very straight, feeling a confidence and warmth I hadn't felt before.
I grabbed up my soup, turned around, and headed for the door. As I was turning, I felt the wind again and the sensation was like a row of heavenly angels were turning in a line with me. It wasn't something I saw, it was something I felt and knew was there.

I knew without a doubt that there was a row of at least eight angels behind me and one on either side- touching my shoulders. The power they wielded as we walked almost lifted me off of my feet. In fact, my feet and legs didn't carry my own weight as we moved through the halls. My movement became fast, effortless. I entered the elevator, pushed the number five and waited. My confidence grew with each floor we passed. As we stopped at the fifth floor bone marrow transplant unit, I looked to my left, then to my right and whispered, "Let's go." Each being marched in step with me out of the elevator and through the large doors holding those who were sick. They were guiding me- they had been to the transplant unit many times before.

I could tell- I no longer need a sign to tell me where to go- I didn't need the reception area or the patient board to tell me where Mark's room was located. My ten heavenly escorts marched in step with me- they had visited Mark before. I entered the room-soup in hand and greeted my brother sitting up in the bed. In a manner that was unreal, I offered him his soup, the angels standing beside me to certify that the task was done. Mark chatted with me while devouring the soup. The escorts must have known he needed it and were sent to get me.

The angels have visited many other times.
So many, in fact- it starts to become rather weird.
One particular visit was when Mark spent a number of weeks in the hospital due to his raging graft versus host disease. His body was waging war against itself and caused tiny canker sores to form all over his stomach, liver, and intestine. Eating was painful and stressful. Mark was at risk of developing infection as the lymphocytes attacked without mercy. Anytime I visited Mark, the pain he experienced was so evident. He would thrash around in pain until the pain medicine kicked in for him. He would sweat, thrash, and no position was at all comfortable.
His pain evident, I stood beside the small ICU bed that held Mark and his pain ridden body. I talked to him as he told me about a strange dream he had the night before- he dreamed that angels were in his room.
I froze.
"Mark," I said, voice and knees shaking.
"What did the angels look like?"

Mark went on to describe his dream in detail.
I stood, still frozen- listening.
Mark's dream described in detail the parade of angels that I saw standing in his small ICU room. What I saw can only be described to those who believe. In fact, I wasn't sure that I believed my own mind. Perhaps I was stressed, worried, and saw something that my mind used to make sense of my dilemma.
I couldn't deny any of it.
I saw the exact vision that Mark saw in his dream the night before.
Rows of them.
Angels with large wings standing guard, lining Mark's room with their huge bodies. They were so huge that I only saw their torso. Their faces were above the room so that they couldn't be seen. There were so many that I couldn't count them.
They stood guard.
Mark dreamed it.
I saw it.

As I mentioned earlier, there are times when we think we are alone.... but we are definitely, without a doubt-
not alone.

posted by Catmaster @ 1:48 PM