I think about angels a lot.

Maybe because I’m convinced I’ve met a couple, and I wish I had a way to prove it. 

Who knows how often angels interact, but I suspect it’s more than we realize. A well-placed advertisement, a timely dream, or even an overheard conversation could be the nudge we need to keep us on the right path.

Once in a while, I think certain situations call for a more direct approach. A critical moment when a subtle hint just won’t work. I think I’ve experienced this before, and while I can’t prove it, I can share it with you. Maybe you’ve been through something similar, and we can compare.

One memory that sticks with me happened when I was only twenty.

I’d just graduated from college and was beginning my career as a high school teacher. I lived about an hour from my parents and still had that “college” mentality. That means I would often drive home on weekends to wash clothes and get mom’s cooking.

One weekend, my mom called to say they were driving to the town between us to shop at Walmart if I wanted to meet them. Well, what young girl just starting out would turn down the chance for free groceries, right?

I jumped in my car and headed out.

Halfway to Walmart, my car made a horrible sound, and the steering wheel began to shake. I wrestled the car to the side of the busy road and got out to the dismal sight of a very flat tire. 

Amazingly, for a small town farm girl, I’d never changed a flat tire. It was before the days of cell phones, so after a brief freak out, I pulled myself together and opened the trunk to “figure it out.”

I pulled up the floor piece covering the spare tire and began reading the directions mounted underneath when the sound of a door slamming brought me to attention. Leaning around the trunk, I looked in front of my car to see a parked eighteen wheeler and a large man walking slowly toward me. 

When I say alarms went off inside me, I mean, from the tip of my head down to my toes. For some reason, the sight of him walking my way triggered an instinct inside that said, “RUN!”

I was gripping the trunk tightly, trying to decide what to do, when a voice sounded behind me. “Don’t worry about it, Mister! We’ve got her!” 

I spun to see a red mini-van pulled up behind me. A young man with a friendly smile was walking up to me while waving toward the trucker.

I hadn’t heard a sound.

One second my heart had been pounding in my throat wondering what I should do, and the next second this man and his wife were just standing there. 

I turned back to see the trucker stopped about thirty feet away. I remember feeling a rush of strength that seemed to come from the two people standing guard behind me. 

I stood straighter and stared silently at the man. 

He stared straight back with cold, evil eyes. 

There was a long, awkward pause that sent chills up my spine. I watched his eyes flick over my shoulder to the people behind me, and when he looked back at me, his eyes were empty. He dismissed us with half a wave and turned back to his truck.

My entire body sagged with relief. I turned to the couple and spoke for the first time.

“Thank you so much!”

I could tell they understood I was thanking them for more than just the help with a flat tire. Their eyes went to the truck pulling away before giving me a knowing smile. 

Then they both jumped to action. 

The woman pulled me over to the safe side of the road and kept putting me at ease, while the man put my spare tire on. Later, I would think about how they seemed to work in complete synchrony. One would start a sentence and the other would complete it. The moment I would think of a concern, one would answer my question before I even asked it. Everything they said was instructional, but comforting. He used every action of changing my tire to teach me things to keep me safe until I could reach my destination.

When he noticed the tire needed air, he told me to do a u-turn, and they would follow me to the gas station a few miles back to make sure I was ok.

Once there, he filled my tire and gave me a few last tips on how to drive on a spare. 

I was so appreciative, and wanted to do something for them, so I leaned into my car to grab my purse from the back seat. I thought I could fill their gas tank or something, but when I stood from my car…

They were gone. 

I don’t mean they were pulling onto the road and driving away. I mean no people. No car. No anything. 

It’s been twenty-six years since that happened, and I still think about it often. You could explain it away as super nice people just helping a stranded girl out, but I swear it was more than that. There was something different about this interaction. It was the looks they gave me and each other. The way they spoke to me. The timely way they came and then just as quickly disappeared. 

I mean, I’ve had a lot of nice people help me out since, and while I’m forever grateful to them, I didn’t walk away thinking they were angels.

Has anything like this ever happened to you?

Have you been in a situation where you were heading for guaranteed disaster and then suddenly someone stepped in and turned it on a dime? 

I want to hear your stories. Comment below or head over to my social media pages and tell me all about it. October was for ghost stories, November was about becoming more thankful, but December is about…hope.

Bring me your stories of Angels. 

Don’t believe in Angels? That’s ok. No matter what you believe, you can still make a conscious decision this holiday season to be hopeful. To believe in the perpetual goodness around us. 

We’ve made it a habit to drown in the doom and gloom. I’m just as guilty. I make flippant remarks about the state of things. Off-hand jokes with a side of eye roll are served up daily in just about every conversation I have.

But what if we made a choice to “fake it ‘till we make it.” We could start here and now by focusing on angels, goodness, miracles-

Hope.

At a minimum, we would feel better. My HOPE is that over time, we would actually be better.