I love this time of the year. ‘Tis the season for sweets and treats! It’s when our inner bakers become master chefs! I was blessed recently by a benevolent baker who sent me some angel cookies. The celestially shaped sugary sweets were delicious! Oddly enough, there was one that had an unfortunate pastry malfunction. One of its wings had somehow broken off during it’s divine delivery. However, it was still edible and incredible.
As I chomped my chosen cherubs with delight, I pondered more upon my doughy dilemma and this so-called most wonderful time of the year. I began to reflect on the lesser lessons of this celebrated season. I reflected on the stories I had heard as a child, which I have never forgotten; that there were and are angels among us. Yet, we are usually unaware of them because we’re too busy or too distracted to notice. Not only the invisible ones, but those who we know; neighbors, coworkers, family members, even strangers on the street, but we still overlook or forget that underneath their estranged stares and frustrated frowns, are angelic gowns and heavenly hearts of gold. I guess failures and flaws are easier to see for us immaculate mortals. If that’s true, why do we use pointing fingers more than uplifting hands?
Where and who are these so-called angels unaware today that need our friendship and forgiveness? Are they the ones whose only gift under the tree is the tree itself, in which they will have to sleep under because they have no beds to lay their weary heads? Are they the ones who remember Black Friday not because of long lines and great deals, but because of the black night and freezing chills? What of those who can’t remember the reason for the season because they have no reason to believe? What of the angels who have broken their wings and feel like they will never fly again because the storms of life have thrown them too far off course? Fallen angels who, while grounded from their divine destinations are pounded by those who have the power to influence their lives, for better or for worse, yet hide behind their own wings, or flap them in another direction as an indication of their vindication for any hurtful indignation. How sad it is when the helper’s halos only cause more hurt. As if the storms of life have not brought enough turmoil and torture already.
I believe we are all angels unaware, but life is not all laurels and mistletoes. We all get delayed and detoured from our divine destinations. We have our own storms and sometimes our wonderful wings get broken and we too wonder if we will ever fly again. Sometimes even the greatest among us, can be deceived and detained. Yes, the storms of life can cause even the choicest of angels to veer off course. Of course, it is to these angels we must reach out with healing in our wings and remind them that they are not alone and they will fly again.
Therefore, at this season of peace on earth, let us remember that the manger held a miracle for each of us who may be broken in pieces; a special gift and a promise; that whether we are kings and queens, princes and paupers, or beggars and thieves, we are always loved. We can be set free and become the great souls we are still meant to be. Let us remember our own need to reach out and touch the Healer’s hem because we all need healing and help learning to fly again, because even angels get broken wings.