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An Angel in the Spring
by DeBorah Sutton
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Angel in the Spring
By: DeBorah Sutton

There are many definitions of Angels:

• Typically benevolent celestial being that acts as an
intermediary between heaven and earth.

• Angels Christianity - the last of the nine orders of angels
In medieval angelology.

• A guardian spirit or guiding influence.

Those are all good, but my definition is: The one who saved my life.

I didn’t see a halo. Nor did I hear the melodious arrangement of harps, trumpets, symbols, lyres or other musical instruments as seen on TV. I didn’t see massive, angel-like wings fluttering while soaring through the sky – either. But I did see something! And whatever it was - was sent by God to personally protect me.

It was beautiful spring morning. Birds chirping, sun shining, breezes blowing, clear skies... you couldn’t ask for a more perfect day. As I drove to work, I engaged in my usual driving-to-work practices. You know, listening to my favorite Christian station while sipping a Vanilla Cappuccino, and intermittently applying make-up at stop lights; a wonderful day, right? Wrong! Something was going on! I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I had an uneasy feeling that someone was watching me. Not only that, but… I thought I had seen an angel in the sky. That’s right, an angel! Not a visual that I could touch - but more like a silhouette that I could see. It hovered over my car, and peered at me through the clouds. Were the clouds playing tricks on me? It had huge, pallid wings, each the size of large house, if you can imagine that; with an enormous body that looked like 20 or 30 clouds rolled into one. I couldn’t see its eyes because the radiance of its smile almost blinded me. Oh yes, it was smiling. Smiling at me and the sun beamed through its mouth showing every color of the rainbow. I was mesmerized.


The deafening horn of the Mercedes behind me clearly stated that I was holding up traffic. I tried to get another glimpse but couldn’t. When I looked again the angel was gone. Angels??? I thought, you need to get a grip.

I was listening to Rev. Dr. Louise Williams on the radio. She had just finished playing a song by the Norwood Sisters, and now she was beginning to pray. As usual, I began praying with her.

I don’t know where it came from, or even how it came, but I was overwhelmed with a feeling that I couldn’t shake. It was so strong that it stopped me from praying. Was it fear… or… dread, shame… or… sorrow, I didn’t know. But whatever it was, it was overwhelming. This feeling compelled me to cry and weep. Then… cry and weep some more. I couldn’t stop! I began to pray the same prayer over and over and over. Forgive me God for all that I’ve done. Bless me and my family, and to let your angels protect us throughout the day. The tears fell so fast that they blurred my vision. I started to pull the car over, but continued driving because in spite my tears, I knew God was protecting me. Then just like that, I could no longer pray. It was as if someone had bridled my tongue. I couldn’t speak; I wanted to, but words just wouldn’t come out. I could only cry and groan. The only word I could utter was JESUS. But in my mind, I kept saying Father forgive me, Father protect me and my family. Let you’re angels stand guard around us.

After about 15 minutes the heaviness left me, and it was over. I had been purged. I felt clean, refreshed, and uplifted. It was the strangest thing.

What the heck was that? I wondered. Either I was getting a message from God or…it was time for Prozac!! Where’s my water? ☺

* * * * * * * * * *

I arrived at work on time, ready to start my day. I’d almost forgotten that it was Wednesday. Payday! This was always a big day for me, especially since our checks came in the morning. I mapped out exactly what stores I would hit since I only had an hour. I always took an early lunch (around 10:30 a.m.) to avoid the crowds.

On my way back to work I stopped by the bank to deposit my check. I was about to enter it when I saw Billy; an old friend whom I hadn’t seen in years.

“Hi, Billy.”

We performed the customary embrace that you give an old friend. And chatted for a few minutes trying to catch up; but the hour was getting late, he wouldn’t stop yapping, and I still had banking to do.

“I’ve gotta go, Billy. Hope to see you again soon.”

What a talker, I thought, as I entered the bank.

I smiled as I opened the glass doors because the bank was empty. I was the only customer.

“Good, I’ll get right in-and-out. No long lines today.”

I walked up to the counter, placed my bags on the floor and pulled out my check. After going through the usual formalities (showing the ID, signing the check, etc.); I waited for my cash. Once received, I separated it into two piles: one pile for me and one pile for deposit. I was writing out my deposit slip - when from no where - a man’s hand covered my money and grabbed it from the counter. My immediate thought was that it was my friend Billy, playing games. As I turned to face the culprit, my smile faded and my heart sunk. It wasn’t Billy at all, but a rather tall, lanky, bald-headed man, whom I didn’t know. He had snatched my money and was running out of the bank.

“Help, I’m being robbed.” I screamed. “Help, I’m being robbed.”

The bank employees scurried to their feet to see what was going on. As the nervous stranger ran I hesitantly pursued him. He was having a hard time opening the door because instead of pushing he was pulling. By the time I reached him, he had opened the door and was darting across the park. I began to chase him but saw a police officer sitting in his van. He heard me screaming and saw me running towards him. I approached his van and breathlessly explained what had happened. He radioed for assistance.

“Go back into the bank,” were his instructions. And he took off running after the robber.

About 20 minutes later, the policeman returned to the bank.

“Did you catch him?” I asked excitedly. His eyes told the answer before he did.

“No. He got away. Let’s get started on your statement.”

The employees and I began to explain what happened. We watched as he conscientiously wrote down every word. When he finished his report, he pulled me aside.

“Do you know how lucky you are young lady? You must have an angel watching over you.”

“How do you figure that?” Was my abrupt retort. “The man stole my money!”

“Yes, he did,” said officer Kamel, “But he didn’t steal your life. He probably had all intentions of robbing the bank at gun point, but saw your money on the counter, and decided it was a better risk. That money probably saved all of your lives.

And then it hit me! The car--the crying-- the praying --the Angel. God was letting me know that something was going to happen. Although he did not stop it, He pulled me through it. He had given an angel the job of protecting me.

Isn’t God wonderful!?

Even with today’s high rate of unemployment and crumbling economy that Angel is still working today.

The End

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Member Comments
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Thomas Kittrell 28 Mar 2006
Great story. We never know how God is protecting us, and when He has an angel sent to protect us from imminent danger.


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