Angel winged

Two for One

In the summer of 1997, we got our daughter Sarah a new twin mattress for her bunk bed. I had taken it upstairs and was trying to get the old one down. Our stairs can be hazardous, so I kept saying to myself, “Kristy, be careful.” My husband is disabled and hasn’t worked in over four years, and without my income we’d be on the streets. When I was upstairs, I looked out at the happy sight of my three children playing with their German Shepherd, “Sadie,” and their daddy keeping a close eye on them. When I started to move the old mattress down the stairs, I slipped and lost my footing, and I began to fall. Thousands of thoughts raced through my mind in that split-second. “What will happen if I break my leg or worse?” I said. “Please, dear God, help me. Send me an angel.” Well, I got not just one, but two. I felt two strong, masculine arms grab me and reach under my arms and pull me up, and I felt a second set of hands grab my ankles and push me firmly back on the stairs. Then I looked and, lo and behold, the mattress was at the bottom of the stairs placed neatly and upright against the wall. I went outside to ask my husband if he’d been in the house and he said, “No.” And surely he doesn’t have two sets of arms. My brother has good luck “channeling” angels. He informed me it was Michael who grabbed under my arms and Uriel who grabbed my ankles. —Kristy

Midnight visitor

On the morning of March 31, 1987, around 3 a.m. as I slept alone in my apartment, I was roused by three very gentle tugs on my bedcovers near the foot of the bed. I had the covers up around my neck, which is how I always sleep. I did not awaken but I was aware of something. I guess I fell back to sleep but the same three gentle tugs came again. I was roused again but did not open my eyes. The third time the tugging happened, I was awake enough to turn around to my right and open my eyes. What I saw was the most beautiful man standing by the bedroom wall. He stood very straight and his arms were straight down by his side. He had to have been almost eight feet tall. (I say that because the ceilings in that apartment were at least that high, and he almost reached them.) A white light surrounded him from head to foot. All I could see of his skin were his hands and face, which were a dark bronze color. He was not looking at or facing me, he was facing my open living room door. As I stared at him, I could see he was wearing the most beautiful long white robe. There was a sash around his waist of the same color, about six inches wide. The white robe was a shade of white so beautiful that I’d never seen anything like it before. He also had a white turban wrapped around his head covering all of his hair. What a beautiful face he had! He said, “Do not be afraid. It is the voice of God. Read Isaiah, man of the patient realm.” I don’t know how he got from the wall to the side of my bed, but somehow he was right there. He reached out his mighty arms and bent over as if he were going to pick me up—which is exactly what he did. All of a sudden, I felt as if I was just a little baby, cradled in the arms of her mother, wrapped in a warm blanket. Then I heard a noise that sounded like a whizzing sound, and we were moving in that sound. Then we were standing on very rich and beautiful earth, which somehow I could feel with what seemed now to be my bare feet. We were in what seemed like a marketplace of some kind. There were others walking around like him, in the same white robes; some were alone and some were walking in twos. We were facing a booth that resembled a booth at a carnival. Inside the booth were three rows of large, hand-crafted vessels. He was standing on my right side and said, “Choose something.” “I don’t have any money,” I told him. He answered, “You don’t need money here. Everything is free.” At that point, I remember hearing the same whizzing sound and again, we seemed to be moving at a great speed. We were standing by the same side of my bed again. He leaned over very slowly with me in his arms, and gently placed me back into my body with great care. I could now feel my body in the bed, and he was gone. I thought about it for a while because it happened so fast. Then, I got up out of bed and turned on a nightlight to write down, “Isaiah, man of the patient realm.” For the next few days, I read the book of Isaiah. I found out that God is real. He’d heard all my cries for help and had given me proof that he was indeed there. —Kathy D.