The Saguaro (barrel-chested cactus), arms uplifted as though in prayer, might remind us that for countless ages its desert home has been viewed by spiritual seekers as a special prayer space. In the long history of prayer, the desert has often been seen as a holy locale where seekers can travel light and encounter spiritual realities. The desert, whether of sand or of our inner souls, challenges us to see more clearly and to travel with prayer as our best companion.
~ from ONE HUNDRED CRANES by William J. Fitzgerald
Living with an awareness of the companioning presence of angels . . . we come to realize angelic joy is working with us, surprising us, and reminding us that we are loved beyond measure. Limit not the myriad ways your angelic companions may knock on the door of your heart. Spending time in the Silence draws them nigh.
~ Nan Merrill, in Friends of Silence, December 2007
I stood in the back corner watching them. They resembled three veterans who had met once more on a cold day after years of separation, and had lit a fire to warm themselves. I had pricked up my ears to overhear what they said, but none of them opened his mouth. You felt the air between them was vibrating and that a string of unspoken words was being unwound from mouth to mouth. Without the slightest doubt, this was how the angels spoke in heaven. How long did their silence last -- how many hours? It seemed to me time had come to a standstill, that one hour and one century were of the same length.
Know there are those who harken when we pray, And succour from the realms of Light will send. Ever at hand to guide us, or defend, Till breaks at last the dawning of our Day.
If human beings knew that good and powerful beings were watching us, maybe we would stand up more erect and be more beautiful ourselves. We would be inspired to live up to our dignity.
As James Maxton cemented and grouted the seven angels, he underwent a spiritual transformation. A diabetic, coming off drugs, James suffered pain and swelling in his feet. He could only work three hours a day. Once every hour, he would limp back to his house and bathe his feet in ice. It wasn't until he completed the icons that James saw the beauty of what he had created. "I got all choked up," he says. "For me it was a spiritual awakening, just looking at them, seeing the people all around looking at the angels, too. I like to say I was reborn in that garden. It was my personal resurrection."
