Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Looking for Angels

I've been very busy the past few weeks predominantly with decorating projects in my home, as well as my three ducklings in tow and other responsibilities. And my first-ever-since-children trip away from home for a night with my husband. We biked and hiked and admired creation, marveling at history under our feet and in our hands, thinking of the stories of the land and wishing I could see and know it all. I felt such a sense of connectedness.
It started because we were driving to southern Utah -- and the further south we got, the more rugged the terrain, the steeper the cathedrals of stone with wide valleys between. We were talking about ancient peoples that were presumeably here, and how we literally are products of what has been left behind. There is an echo of other times there, and I'd never really quite had that impressed upon me in the same way by viewing the land. I felt as if I were being taught about the order of heaven -- that we are all connected, a brother-and-sister-hood, temporally and spiritually. We were meant to accomplish our great tasks together, ironically, whether we recognize the spiritual connections or not.

I had another sweet impression as I sat in the red sand in southern Utah. It was so soft -- so soft, even, that I could imagine making a bed out of this sand and snuggling into its coolness. It was a very tangible symbol for me of the atonement. I was surrounded by hard, resilient, seemingly impassable red rock, and yet could have sand as soft and cool that came, at one time, from rock just as hard as that which was all around me. We, too, can become pliable, soft and molded by depending on the true Rock and become changed through Him.

Fall is definitely awake in the Rockies and it's glorious. Mimi and I jogged through the leaves this morning while the boys were at preschool and I could smell that delicious fall smell and hear the leaves underfoot. It was lovely.
Yesterday my sister-in-law and kids were staying with us. We woke up and had a lazy breakfast of waffles around 10:30. The children all played outside and my sister-in-law and I sat and talked with the fall sunshine streaming in. Late yesterday afternoon we listened to Bing Crosby (the children are already loving "Frosty, the Snowman") while Dara ran to the grocery store for some last minute stuff for dinner and post family night treats, and I rolled out homemade noodles on the counter for chicken noodle soup. When she came back, the children were gathered around helping her unwrap caramels for our brownies. The mantle is bedecked in fall and twinkly lights and I felt warm inside being together. After our soup and homemade biscuits, we gathered to talk as a family. Scott gave our lesson on testimony, and what we can bear testimony of.

Talking about what we know.
I know that peace comes from what we know, and from what we can believe.

I marveled at what these kids knew, rejoiced in openly discussing these things together, grateful for other lights that touch mine, making it burn brighter.

After reading something last week it made me think about how we have to look for the angels to recognize them alive in our lives. Angels won't cease to be active in our behalf as long as we believe that they are, and that they are engaged with us. It is so easy to give credit to oneself when things go right -- to pass it off as mere coincidence or luck or any number of things. But how can God help me notice the angels if I don't acknowledge them as such? The impression came clear for me:

Look for the angels.
Angels in moments of love, in times of pain, in having compassion for others and yourself, in seeking to understand, in wiping away tears. Angels in forgiveness and the desire to forgive, in seeking blessings, in teaching and learning, in gratitude and recognition, in beauty in all its forms, in friendships and families. Angels in the spirit and in the flesh, in joy, in answered prayers, in small steps of progress, in forging together, in wending your way.
I'm looking for angels.

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