JavaScript is disabled in your web browser or browser is too old to support JavaScript. Today almost all web pages contain JavaScript, a scripting programming language that runs on visitor's web browser. It makes web pages functional for specific purposes and if disabled for some reason, the content or the functionality of the web page can be limited or unavailable.
Vieraskieliset / In-english

Blog: Eve­ry­day an­gels

Päivämies-verkkolehti
Vieraskieliset / In-english
20.9.2019 6.17

Juttua muokattu:

23.12. 02:44
2019122302444820190920061700

Have you ever met an­gels? I mean eve­ry­day an­gels. Dear friends who have wan­ted to dis­cuss the most im­por­tant mat­ters of life and have pre­ac­hed you for­gi­ve­ness even though you have not as­ked for it yet. These friends should not be ta­ken for gran­ted. They are gifts from the He­a­ven­ly Fat­her and a cau­se of gra­ti­tu­de and joy.

One mor­ning, a long time ago, a friend of mine sent me a text mes­sa­ge. She said she had suf­fe­red he­a­vy tri­als, but had now lis­te­ned the mor­ning de­vo­ti­on on the ra­dio and felt that she was being re­mem­be­red. She wan­ted to share her joy for that and for the new con­fi­den­ce she felt. I still re­mem­ber how deep­ly I was touc­hed by that dis­cus­si­on. On that or­di­na­ry week­day mor­ning we bles­sed each ot­her with the gos­pel and the­re­by shed some light in­to the sha­do­wy cor­ners of each ot­her’s per­so­nal li­ves.

I on­ce stu­died with a friend who was an eve­ry­day an­gel. She re­min­ded me that we should go to ser­vi­ces when the ot­her stu­dents in­vi­ted me to come and play snoo­ker. She al­so gave wise and bib­li­cal ans­wers to a fel­low stu­dent who pur­po­se­ly qu­es­ti­o­ned the foun­da­ti­on of our faith. The many dis­cus­si­ons we had strengt­he­ned the bond of friends­hip bet­ween us and made me un­ders­tand that we are gi­ven the kind of sup­port we need at eve­ry stage of life.

While sit­ting at a bon­fi­re with friends, I have of­ten felt that the warmth of the fire has al­so war­med my he­art. Sit­ting there to­get­her, we may have first tal­ked about mun­da­ne things, but our dis­cus­si­on has then mo­ved on to what is most im­por­tant in life. I re­mem­ber the time when one of us took his phone and switc­hed on a pre­sen­ta­ti­on. I do not re­mem­ber anyt­hing about the con­tent of the pre­sen­ta­ti­on, but I cle­ar­ly re­mem­ber the joy I felt while lis­te­ning to it.

We were dif­fe­rent. We all had our own flaws and we­ak­nes­ses. We knew our pains and sor­rows had al­re­a­dy been bor­ne a long time ago. We just nee­ded to be re­min­ded of that. I felt that those pe­op­le were a gift to me at that mo­ment. So that I would re­mem­ber. So that I would have the strength to be­lie­ve.

I have al­so come ac­ross many ot­her an­gels. Some of them have wal­ked by my side for ye­ars, some on­ly for a short while. But they have all had one thing in com­mon. They have sho­wed me the way to he­a­ven.

I now have a very spe­ci­al an­gel. A friend with whom I have ex­pe­rien­ced so­met­hing mi­ra­cu­lous, na­me­ly that the fee­ling of love is strengt­he­ned and dee­pe­ned by for­gi­ve­ness. Do you know that fee­ling? When you have of­fen­ded yo­ur de­a­rest one or stumb­led in some ot­her way – and that per­son just draws you close to him and bles­ses you with the for­gi­ve­ness of all sins. That kind of love ma­kes you whole. And that dear per­son seems the most be­au­ti­ful and won­der­ful per­son in the world.

I have al­so been gi­ven some small an­gels, who of­ten make me stop still in the mid­d­le of my busy home life and fo­cus on so­met­hing more im­por­tant.

Life sud­den­ly seems much less chal­len­ging when one of them says: ”Did you know that Je­sus he­ars even the sound of the dish­was­her? And the sound of tur­ning pa­ges. And the cric­kets in the grass.” Half­way through put­ting on their snow­suits on a cold day I he­ard an im­por­tant re­min­der: ”The snow­suit pro­tects my in­door clot­hes, but Je­sus pro­tects eve­ry­bo­dy, even the Eng­lish pe­op­le!”

And what about the mo­ment when all things seem so chal­len­ging – and you sud­den­ly hear yo­ur teen sing and play in the li­ving-room. The fa­mi­li­ar tune of a song prai­sing God for His gifts goes right in­to yo­ur he­art. At such mo­ments it is ea­sy to be­lie­ve in an­gels. It is ea­sy to be­lie­ve that, wha­te­ver may hap­pen in life, all things are in good hands.

When I think about an­gels, I al­so think about a spe­ci­al friend of my child­ren. That child wants to be­lie­ve, alt­hough her pa­rents have gi­ven up their faith. When I lis­ten to her, I feel that she is sho­wing us the way. With her child­hood faith she is an an­gel for us.

There may be ti­mes in life when we feel that we do not have any re­li­ab­le friends. But even then we are not alo­ne. Though we can­not see it with our tem­po­ral ey­es, we are being re­mem­be­red and car­ried. At all ti­mes.

Text: An­ne Lind­fors

Trans­la­ti­on: Sirk­ka-Lii­sa Lei­no­nen

You will find the ori­gi­nal blog post here.

8.7.2020

Et­kö ym­mär­rä, et­tä Ju­ma­lan hy­vyys joh­taa si­nut kään­ty­mi­seen? Room. 2:4

Viikon kysymys