I live in a trailer in the sleepy town of Vaiden, Mississippi, with my husband and two little girls.
Severe thunderstorms are especially hazardous if a family lives in a trailer instead of a house. In early February, 2007, at about two o’ clock in the morning, the bottom fell out of the heavens in a torrent so powerful that it bent our front yard evergreen trees in half.
Weather reports on the morning of the previous day had reported the possibility of tornadic activity in the wee hours of the following morning. Now I was wide awake, right in the thick of it, wondering which was louder: the thunder booming like a cannon outside my bedroom window, or the pulsating of my terrified heart.
My husband slept peacefully on one side of me. My baby daughter cuddled up to the other side, ironically for safety. As they slumbered in peaceful ignorance, the wind howled. Like daggers thrown from Heaven, water droplets slashed at anything unfortunate enough to halt their relentless mission of destruction. God’s power ripped undiluted through the forces of nature. The result was pandemonium.
With each new gust of wind, the trailer rocked gently from side to side. I was stiff and petrified, unable to escape the thought that the wind could push our unanchored trailer over on its side.
I appealed to my Heavenly Father for protection. I closed my eyes and let myself fall quietly into a state of prayer. Lightning illuminated my path as I padded softly across the clouds to climb into my Father’s lap. He welcomed me with loving arms. "What can I do for my baby girl?" He asked, His eyes twinkling with love.
I had long since lost the argument over His nickname for me, which was always the same. No matter how old I get, I’ll always be his "baby girl", a small, curly-haired four-year-old seeking the protection of her Father.
My petitions to my Father are specific and bold. This doesn’t surprise Him at all. He’s absoulutely limitless! After all, He even held Hurrican Katrina in the palm of His hand!
My Father was bigger than the tornadic conditions in Vaiden that night, and I knew it!
"I need help tonight, Father," I told Him. "That storm is really bad. I need all the angels you can spare!"
Our trailer is not anchored to the ground. It’s simply sitting up on concrete blocks. Even the sheet metal around the bottom is missing, so wind gets underneath the trailer and tends to lift the whole rickety shelter UPWARD.
"Father, I ask for angels holding onto each corner of the trailer. I also need a big crowd of angels sitting on top of the roof so that the metal doesn’t lift up. Please place two or three angels on top of the leak in the kitchen ceiling where the water drips down onto the stove. I also need angels lined up along the four sides of the trailer. Father, give them all good handholds so they can keep the trailer from blowing over sideways."
My Father smiled. No request for protection was too much for his baby girl.
Angels flew silently into position as my Father’s command. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, heeded my plea for help. The trailer stopped rocking and sat perfectly still in the wake of the howling wind. Awestruck at the celestial protection available to ALL my Father’s babies, I silently climbed off the edge of the waterbed and walked down the darkened hallway to the kitchen. I flipped the light switch and tiptoed cautiously to the stove, half-expecting to see a huge puddle of water on top of it. The top of the stove was dry! Not a single drop of rain had fallen onto it from the leak around the unused stove exhaust pipe in the ceiling! I ventured a glance upward. The vent was perfectly dry, too! I smiled impulsively, thinking of two twelve-foot angels sitting on the roof with their wings outstretched and overlapping each other. No rain could penetrate their celestial shield!
I turned off the kitchen light and walked back toward my bedroom, curious about how quiet the raindrops were. Our metal roof amplifies sound, and normally during a storm like this, the noise would be deafening!
It was not until I reached my bedroom window that I realized what was happening. I couldn’t resist watching the storm now, witnessing the ironic pairing of my Father’s protection and His Awesome Destructive Power. Although the thunderstorm unleashed its fury on the yard outside, only a few gentle droplets of rain fell against the bedroom window, and the rickety old house trailer stood as steady as a rock, anchored by innumerable surrounding angels. The zone of protection extended a foot and a half all the way around the trailer, and none of the wind or torrential rains could penetrate it. All that was allowed to hit the windows was a gentle spray, the kind of mist that a person would see bursting from two sections of a ripe tangerine as they’re gently pulled apart.
My Father had gone above and beyond my requests for protection . . . again.
I looked out at the storm as a spectator this time, not as a participant, and couldn’t help but giggle at my dog Buttercup, who was standing below me in the yard.
She had found shelter under an old chiar and sat looking up toward the roof of the trailer. For once, she was too astounded to bark at the rages of the storm. Instead, she stared upward, her eyes wide and her ears straight out to the sides of her golden head like wings, not making a sound. I envied her, wishing for just a second that I could see things from her perspective.
My Father graciously gave me a revelation of what Buttercup was watching, and what I saw transfixed me. In those brief seconds of time I found myself hovering above the trailer, outside my body. The view was incredible! Surrounding the trailer on all four sides about a foot and a half from the walls were crowds of smiling angels, their wings outstretched in a celestial barrier against the furious storm that surrounded them.
This was extraordinary, but it’s what I saw ABOVE the trailer that made me stand in awe at my Father’s power. In a 30-foot arc above the roof were innumerable angels, effortlessly forming a heavenly canopy. Their wings were outstretched to their full glorious wingspans, and not one golden feather appeared to be wet! No WONDER the torrential rains or wind couldn’t reach the roof or the sides of the trailer! They couldn’t get past the angels’ wings!
The revelation was over. I was back in my body. The storm raged on, but as I crawled back into bed between my husband and my baby daughter, I knew that I was safe. The trailer didn’t move for the rest of the night, and neither did my faith in God. He protected my whole family that night, with the help of a colossal team of shimmering angels!
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Book / Religion and Spirituality
Short Story / Humor
Short Story / Humor
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