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Listening to a pastor telling stories of angels as protectors and “ministering spirits” made me realize how many of my own amazing experiences I should document for the inspiration of others.

The pastor had recounted a now infamous story from famed evangelist Billy Graham in his book Angels.  The story goes that John Paton and his wife Margaret were missionaries in the violent, cannibalistic culture of the south Pacific islands during the mid-nineteenth century.  One night, warriors of the local tribes surrounded their little hut, intent on killing them.  Paton and his wife fell to their knees and prayed for God’s protection throughout the night.  By morning’s light, they could see the warriors retreating into the hills.

About a year later, after the local tribal chief had become a Chrisitan, Paton asked him if he remembered that night and why his men did not attack Paton and his wife.  The chief said he certainly did remember, explaining that they did not attack because there were hundreds of guards surrounding the hut — men with shining clothes and drawn swords!

This reminded me of another such story by Corrie ten Boom (The Hiding Place), a Dutch watchmaker turned author and evangelist.  Later honored by Yad Vashem as Righteous among the Nations for her work saving Jews during WWII, Corrie had been imprisoned with her sister Betsy at Ravensbrück concentration camp.

As all new prisoners were carefully checked for contraband, Corrie’s Bible should have been confiscated.  She admitted that it bulged obviously through her dress, where she’d tried to hide it, but she had prayed, “Lord, cause now Thine angels to surround me; and let them not be transparent today, for the guards must not see me.”  The woman in front of her had hidden a woolen vest under her dress — the guards took it.  Behind her, her sister Betsy was thoroughly searched.  Corrie, however, seemed to walk unnoticed not once, but through two guard inspections.  She knew that the angels had surrounded her both times.  This caused her to jubilantly pray, “O Lord, if Thou dost so answer prayer, I can face even Ravensbrück unafraid.”

Corrie used that Bible to teach others about Jesus and give inspiration to the women in her barracks.  It enabled Corrie and her sister to lead prayer services in the middle of one of the darkest chapters of human history.

My stories pale in comparison to these, but as the pastor reminded folks — and I believe it’s true — angels are still involved with our everyday lives today.  From the things we write off as “coincidence” to the larger experiences we acknowledge as miracles, they are actively ministering to us, protecting us, and walking among us.

The first story I’ll share happened when I was 26 years old.  It was night, and I was driving on a rural back road to visit a friend.  I hadn’t passed another car for miles.  The road forked at the end — to the right it became a one-way curve onto another road, whereas straight ahead it came to a stop sign.  I was taking the right curve.  Suddenly, I heard a voice; I still don’t know how to describe it except to say it was audible in my head.  It simply said, “Pull to the right.”  I tugged the wheel slightly to the right.  Not knowing what was happening, I said out loud, “This is silly.”  Then I heard it again: “Pull to the right!”  It seemed more urgent.  I pulled the steering wheel farther until my car was just over the white line on the shoulder of the road.

Then came the final warning: “Farther!”  The voice was louder and more demanding.  Startled, I yanked the steering wheel to the far right.  In an instant, and with a glaring flash of headlights, a large vehicle went by me, going the wrong way at a high rate of speed.  In a split-second, I’d watched it come within a hair’s breadth of my driver’s side door handle.  I can still see that image in my mind.

Too stunned to continue on my way, I pulled over and tearfully thanked Jesus for his mercies.  I have no doubt that an angel spoke to me that night.

In another instance, just a few years ago, I passed an old woman walking on a busy highway.  It was a hot day, and she was lugging her groceries home in some sort of rickety old basket that barely held its wheels.  No one ever walks that highway, and I couldn’t believe she hadn’t been hit already.

As she walked past a nearby parking lot, I was able to approach her and offer her a ride.  She was dressed in a brightly colored long skirt and looked to be from another time and place.  Her face was ancient, with a bony nose and chin that made her look nearly like a skeleton.  Her eyes, however, were bright, blue, and full of life.

“Hasn’t anyone else stopped to help you?” I asked.

“No one.  You are the first.  Such a dear person to help.  I can’t tell you how thankful I am.”  Her voice was clear and unremarkable.  I don’t remember the rest of our banter, but I do remember that she had a stench as though she hadn’t showered in weeks.  She directed me to an apartment building — an ordinary brick building with four units, two upper and two lower.  Each had large front windows that faced us.

She was headed to the top left apartment, and I offered to carry the groceries up the stairs, but she insisted she could do the rest.  I watched her slowly take the first bag to the top before I drove off.

About three weeks later, I saw her again on the same stretch of road.  I bit my lip as I remembered her accompanying stench, but I knew I couldn’t leave her walking out there on a dangerous highway.  Once again, I stopped to help.  “Are you the only person out here kind enough to help an old woman?” she chuckled.  It seemed to me that her eyes literally sparkled when she spoke.

I dropped her off at the same place and watched her carry the first bag up the stairs and turn in to the door before I drove off.

About a week later, I decided to buy her a gift card to get groceries.  At this point in the story, you might guess how it’s going to end — and you’d be correct!

I drove to the apartment building and met a young woman coming out of the unit where I’d watched the old woman seemingly enter.  Assuming it was a relative, I inquired after the old woman and even said I had a gift card I wanted to give her.  The pleasant young woman said she and her husband had lived there for two years, and there was no old woman there.  She then told me about the families in the other three units, some of whom I saw come and go as we stood there talking.  There was no elderly woman in any of them, and no one had seen a woman like the one I described.  I got the same answers at the nearby supermarket: “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember seeing anyone of that description.”

I never saw her again, but I believe that that angel was on a mission to see if any passersby had enough compassion to stop and help her.  Perhaps she was also testing if that compassion would shatter in the face of something as meaningless as an offensive odor.  I hope I passed the test.

Even though our modern, messed up world seems to be spiritually deflating, let us be always mindful that God’s angels still walk among us — perhaps more so now than ever!  As the book of Hebrews (KJV) tells us, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

Susan D. Harris can be reached at www.susandharris.com.

<p><em>Image: Marco Verch Professional Photographer and Speaker via <a  data-cke-saved-href=

Image: Marco Verch Professional Photographer and Speaker via Flickr, CC BY 2.0.