For though I am absent in body, yet I am with you in spirit,
and I rejoice to see your morale and the firmness of your faith in Christ.
Colossians 2:5 (NRSV)
It was the Thursday before the Washington DC Metro Area blizzard of January 2016. I had led Covenant Bible Study at Capitol Hill United Methodist Church, and afterwards, I was going to my friend Luke’s house to play a little guitar. It had started snowing shortly before I left the church, but no one had predicted more than a dusting. So, I made my way over to jam for an hour or so. When I left Luke’s, it was clear that the predictions were off. The ground and roads were totally covered and, as I was soon to discover, very slick.
As soon as I noticed how slick the roads were, I decided I’d take Bladensburg Road to Highway 50 to avoid a few overpasses, but soon realized there had been an accident as traffic was backed up near Benning Road and not moving. So, I took back streets, slipping and sliding along the way. I eventually made it to Highway 295 where I crawled along at about 25-30 mph to Highway 50 where I continued the quite slow pace while crazy people continued to fly by – some of which slid off the road.
Just east of Landover Road on US-50 (just outside of DC), there is an S-curve before reaching the Beltway. Even though I was taking my time, all of a sudden, I found myself going sideways, headed towards the concrete pillar holding up an overpass with nothing I did making a bit of difference.
“Oh, expletive!” I shouted out loud and in fear, and in that moment, it literally felt like Dad, who had died almost a year before, was sitting in the passenger seat. I heard him say, “Pop it up into neutral,” which I did. My car immediately straightened out. I incredulously said out loud, “Thanks, Pop!”
Now, some hearing this story will say, “Your dad is your guardian angel! That’s so cool,” which honestly, I don’t know that I buy as I really don’t know that I believe in angels like that. Others will say, “No, you just remembered what your Dad had said to you in a similar situation years ago,” which he definitely said to me when driving around on sleet-covered roads while I was in high school. And yet, the palpable sense that Dad was right there with me was way more than just a memory.
But my point is not to argue the mechanics of what happened. My belief is that the angels we have loved and lost are still somehow with us. Whether in some spiritual way or vividly in our memories, they are never far away. And though I would prefer being able to play music with him again or sit and talk with him again the way we used to, I’m thankful for these occasional moments when I still feel Dad and other loved and lost angels with me.
My hope and prayer is that, for each of you who have also loved and lost an angel, you can find moments of their ongoing presence and that this will bring you comfort, peace, and hope.
