An Angel Named Willa

What does an angel look like?

I believe God sends angels in many forms to minister to us when we need them. I have met many a friend and many a stranger who has been my angel in troubled times.  They don't know what they do for my soul.

Today had a fine start, but as it progressed something was niggling at me.  The self-doubts, the self-image questions, the self-hatred of my weaker insides came creeping in.  Someday I will be rid of those, I hope.  I need to run into Willa again.

A new friend needed someone to talk to. I should have listened instead of offering advice no matter how solid it was.

I reached out once again to an estranged friend.  There was no response.  I can't give up even though I probably should.  It was someone who once would have listened and given me support I trusted and a hug I needed.

I saw a high school friend.  We had a nice visit, laughing and talking like the old days.  I'd like to do that again.  Something was missing, though.  It's the self-image thing again.  Not only did I long for a tarp to cover my body, I felt inadequate.  All the things I haven't done yet, all the things I will never do, came rushing at me as I sat in the car.  The accomplishments of my friend and family read like a Christmas letter.  No wonder I don't write one!  What have I done with my life?   I am continually going two steps forward and one step back on my journey of growth.

Tonight I went to the Y.  I hobbled one mile instead of two.  I used only the machines that aren't hard on my still-sore back. The gym was virtually empty, most of the regulars who had become friends were out enjoying the finally dry weather.

As I sat on the bench debating whether I could do another lap or two a young black woman came down the stairs and stopped beside me.  Not being one to let a possible friend get away, I began to talk.  She was killing time before her class started, she said.  We spoke of many things--the death of our mothers, God and churches, friends and children.

I was sorry to see the time pass so quickly.  As she left we exchanged names and shook hands.  I wanted to hug her.  Those few minutes of honest exchange without expectation or reason gave me back much of what I thought I lost today.  She has no idea how her words helped.

Angels come in every size, shape, color and gender.  Some have fur, some have feathers.  God sends them to us when we need them.  We recognize them sometimes after the fact.  Oh, I know these are not heaven-dwellers; they are people like you and me.  God places them in our path or nudges them in our direction when necessary.

Her name is Willa.  She was my angel today.  Thanks, Willa. Thank you, Lord, for sending her.