Advance posting - Sundays are very full on at the moment.
As part of my 'research' I bought four of these angels, the fifth (the one that lights up) was a gift.
I'm enjoying having them sat on my desk. Their cheery faces (those that have faces), diverse shapes and sizes, and, in a couple of cases, messages brighten up even the dullest moments.
In a small way - since all these angels as caucasian and we are all-ethnicities - it's a bit like church. People of all shapes and sizes, personalities, nationalities, each adding something special to the community of which we are part, and each with the potential to be an angel, a messneger from God, of hope, love, peace, joy, and so on.
By the time this appears, we will be at worship once again - alert to whatever messages God might have for us in scripture, song, story and silence.
According to the #CatsofTwitter today is #Caturday a day on which they post pictures of themselves and/or tell the world how they are spending their day! Being owned by two such, I thought that maybe an 'angel cat' might be appropriate today (and also because I am snowed under with other things to do).
The image was shared with me three years ago when Holly Cat died. As it happens (I had to double check) today is indeed the anniversary of her death, so maybe it's OK to choose this image, or maybe I was 'prompted' to, who knows?
I like the sentiment of the image, that even as we grieve the loss of our loved ones, in some way, seen or unseen, God draws very close to us, to share our sorrow, and offer comfort. Someone once told me they knew someone who believed that all cats are angels, not least because they tend to choose us, rather than we them. Whatever you make of that thought, I think it has an echo at least of prevenient grace and divine love, that is there before we even know that we might seek it, and seeks us out when we least expect it.
God of all life, of all creation,
We can never fathom the mystery or the means of your grace
We can never comprehend the depth, height and length of your love
So all we can do is be grateful that your grace, mercy and love are from everlasting to everlasting
And can be brought to us by angels, who may, at least sometimes, look rather like cats...
A wet day in a city centre. Something has been left on a bench. An onlooker, arms folded - perhaps in disgust - stands nearby...
In monochrome, a person lies huddled up, under a blanket on a bench. Another person, hood up against the rain, arms folded across their chest looks towards them...
A newly installed sculpture, 'the homeless Jesus', located at the back of St Geroge's Tron Church of Scotland, in Glasgow. A young man stands silently studying it...
Jesus, cold and alone, sleeping on a park bench, watched over by an unlikely angel...
Yesterday, with two folk from church, I went to look at this newly installed artwork. We paused on the corner opposite, and I snapped this photo - not great composition, it'd never win any prizes - but I was struck by the intentionality and intensity of the young man's study of the statue.
We walked over, and started to observe it for ourselves. Other people passed by, some stopping to look at the sculpture, others hurrying on their way. The young man, unbidden told us it was Jesus. He shared with us a little of his own story, of homelessness and vulnerability, and how he now had a home (on a very fragile basis) where he was enjoying learning how to live independently. He told us about the Bible study he attended in the church. He told us how someone had asked to meet him at a nother nearby church with a very similar name, and that by mistake he'd come to this one, where he found welcome and acceptance. We all shook hands and he headed off to his Bible study, and we to enjoy lunch in the Wild Olive Branch Cafe inside the church.
If angels are messengers from God, this man was an angel. He brought us good news, of his own redeeemd and renewed life, of his love of Jesus, of the worth of the little we are able to offer. I don't know his name, I didn't think to ask, but as he strode purposefully on his way, on a wet Thursday afternoon, I knew he was my 'angel' of the day.
Today's image comes from a website called Catholic Exchange. The image is not attributed, so far as I could tell, but it was accompanied by a warm story of an English (British?) woman who sees angels.
The rich colours of the painting, along with the gaze of the angels is intriguing and beautiful. I find myself drawn with their gaze seekig it's object - which I assume must be God or Christ, whilst wondering how they are depicted.
I think I saw an angel yesterday... not a golden winged creature, but someone who brought a message of hope and joy to another human. He was no more than 5'4" tall (my height), clad in a military blazer, sharp hair cut, clean shaven, shiny shoes, and holding a charity bucket. I was witness to a conversation he had with a friend of mine, who knows him through their work. His humour, his bright eyes and easy smile, his very earthiness shone with love and life.
Why do I think he was an angel, when he was very clearly human? It's about timing, and placing, and catching a moment in a way that could not be contrived or predicted. Unlike the woman mentioned on the website, I don't 'see angels', if by angels we mean winged, supernatural creatures. But, if we allow for coincidence (in it's true meaning of arising at the same time) of people and places, conversations that have a sense of 'aha' or 'hmm' then yes, I most certainly do.
