Tag Archives: angels

Listening for the Singing of Angels 

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“There must be always remaining in every person’s life some place for the singing of angels.” (Howard Thurman)  

Do angels intrigue you? December is the month of angels, and I adore pondering their presence and power. Furthermore, it’s good to remember that angels sing all year long!  

One Christmas almost twenty years ago, my mother gave each of her daughters a silver “angel bell” necklace. Tucked inside the small gift box was a message telling of a guardian angel that always accompanies us.  It is one of my all-time favorite Christmas gifts, and my sisters and I wear our angel bells often. Mom died years ago, a few days before Christmas, and I believe she is one of the angels always present whenever I need her.  

Do you have something that reminds you of angels? Consider carrying it with you.  

In these busy days, my soul has been nourished by reading snippets from Howard Thurman’s book, The Mood of Christmas.  Howard Thurman (1899-1981) was a gifted writer, minister, philosopher, and educator who served as a spiritual director for Martin Luther King, Jr.  His meditations remind me of the true meaning of Christmas: grace in a world that can feel callous and insensitive, candlelight glowing in the darkness, and daily miracles of which we are often unaware.   

His meditation titled “The Singing of Angels” urges:  

 “There must be always remaining in every person’s life some place for the singing of angels…The commonplace is shot through with new glory; old burdens become lighter; deep and ancient wounds lose much of their old, old hurting…Despite all the crassness of life, despite all the hardness of life, despite all the harsh discords of life, life is saved by the singing of angels.” (p. 8)  

The angels’ song finds fulfillment when we become aware of our true worthiness as children of God and live with that knowledge. 

I haven’t posted recently on Nesting in Wonder because I’ve been focusing on writing a book—a collection of meditations about the many ways to pause, reflect, and reconnect with our souls so that we are better able to love and be loved in our daily lives.  God is always here (as well as there and everywhere!), but often we are oblivious. Angels are divine messengers that remind us of God’s presence.  

Listening for the singing of angels is a meaningful way for us to reconnect with our souls and remember we are loved.  Then we can radiate that love outwardly to everyone we encounter.  

How can you hear the singing of angels?  Ask for their help to hear their music. Listen with the ears of your heart. Maybe you’ll hear in the presence of loved ones, in the quiet moments of solitude, or in a favorite song on the radio. Perhaps you will hear in a moment of connection with a stranger, the reading of a poem that tugs at your heart, or the melody of creation while outside in nature.  

I truly believe that if we pause with the desire to listen for the singing of angels, we will hear music that helps us realize how loved we are. 

Friends, let Howard Thurman’s words serve as a gentle reminder to make time and space to listen for the singing of angels. They don’t just sing in December; they sing year-round!  

Sending love and blessings for the season,

Mabeth

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR

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I had an unexpected visitor last night. All that remains are a few tiny brown and white feathers… and lingering questions about whether I had a visit from a divine winged messenger.  

Let me tell you about it.  

It had been a heartwarming and unusually busy day of gathering with friends from many dimensions of life. Driving home through the dark, rainy evening, I reflected on the day, basking in gratitude for the meaningful conversations, encounters, and relationships.  My final stop had been the Christmas party at Well for the Journey. There, I visited with many soul friends and colleagues who mean so much to me. As a co-founder of Well for the Journey some twenty years ago, watching the mission flourish has brought me immense joy and gratefulness.  

My husband was out of town for the night on business, so when I unlocked the back door and entered the house, I expected to be warmly greeted by Bailey, our dog. Instead, Bailey bolted out the door, clearly bothered by something flapping overhead.  Startled at first, I relaxed a bit when I realized that it was not a bat. (Thank you, God!) Nevertheless, I kept my raincoat on, with the hood over my head, as I assessed the situation. How did you get in? How do I get you out? I quickly walked around the house closing all the doors to the rooms so I could isolate the bird to the family room and hallway areas.

The tiny brown and white bird swooped from one side of the family room to the other, then paused to perch atop the curtain cornice near the Christmas tree.  I opened the windows and doors and whispered encouragement, but she refused to leave. Periodically, she would disappear in the Christmas tree, reappear, and flit across the room. She seemed most comfortable in the tree.  Not a surprise.

Accepting that the bird was going to stay for a while, I took off my coat and got curious. What kind of bird are you? I took out my cell phone and texted a picture and a video to my birdwatching trio of dear friends. Becky, the artist and bird-lover, looked carefully at the shape of the bird and guessed it was a sparrow. She sent me some close-up photos of sparrows that she found online, and I determined it was a female. 

I tried opening the windows and doors again. Instead, she flew down the hallway to some unknown corner.  This brought me some peace; she had her area, and I had mine.  

I prepared a small dinner, sat on the sofa, and pondered the situation.  When we have unusual visits from the natural world, animals, or dreams, they sometimes convey important messages from beyond. And these December days leading up to Christmas are filled with ancient and contemporary stories of angels. Just a few days earlier, I was doing some creative writing about angels and their presence throughout history. The angels’ first words to people they encounter are “Do not fear!” They appear in unexpected places and ways.  

As for birds, they have been called divine winged messengers. Across time and cultures, birds have been seen as symbols of divine inspiration, connecting earth and heaven. Winged creatures that fly, birds are associated with the element of air and powers of thought, wisdom, intuition, and knowledge. Some people claim that birds try to bring us specific messages, like angels.

Sparrows, I learned, are small birds with powerful meaning. They are highly social birds associated with community, teamwork, and cooperation. One website revealed that they also represent finding joy in the little things in life. Also, they are thought to bring good luck.  

I was intrigued. Maybe I should just say “thank you” and stop overthinking.  

I decided that my bird friend and I would peacefully co-exist for the night, and I would deal with getting her back outside in the light of day. Before I went to bed, I searched for her, but she was quiet and presumably sleeping. I tucked myself in behind the closed bedroom door and went to sleep pondering the symbolism and good messages from my bird friend. All was quiet for the night. 

In the morning, she slept in. I was awake for several hours before I heard a brief chirp echo from the upstairs hallway. I discovered her on the window sill just outside my office. As I write this, I now realize a synchronicity: I have been writing a book about the spiritual metaphor of bird nests and the everyday ways we can nest to connect with God! I suspect that my bird friend had nested in the plant outside my office door for the night. Maybe she’s bringing me good luck and encouragement.  

As I approached her, she flew to another window down the hall and looked outside longingly into the sunny day. One by one, I opened all the windows and screens in the hallway. It took only minutes for her to fly out, returning to her natural habitat. There you go!  

I am still trying to make sense of it all. But that’s the thing with divine messengers and angels—they don’t make sense to our skeptical minds. Faith transcends logic. We are invited to open our hearts to the magic of the season. I am still trying to open and listen to what is unfolding from the visit from my sparrow friend. 

Friends, be on the lookout for unusual visitors. Tis the season for Love to break through! 

Love, 

Mabeth 

December 12, 2024 , Sparks, Maryland  

Peculiar Gifts

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When you lose someone close to you, whether to death or through a breakup, your inner foundation can be shattered. Even for those deaths that are expected or the breakups that are “for the best,” it can feel like the walls have caved in, the floors have collapsed, and the roof has fallen.  

Stabilizing and rebuilding can be long and arduous. Grief is a process that requires inner renovations as we discover our strengths and rebuild our lives. We can never plan adequately; the healing process is unpredictable and perplexing, so the best we can do is try to remain open.  

Christmas of 2013 was a memorable one. I received a most peculiar gift, reminding me that loving forces are always guiding and accompanying us in healing  – especially when we are moving through the slog of grief.   

My mother died in Philadelphia on December 17, 2013, after living with cancer for years. I was 53 years old, with young adult children of my own. We held her memorial service on December 21. After staying for a few days with my heartbroken father, I arrived home in Maryland to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas morning on the farm, as was our tradition.   

That Christmas was a blur, characterized by exhaustion and raw, tender emotion. We went through the motions of annual traditions, including hosting Christmas Eve dinner for family and friends who lived in Maryland. I didn’t want to miss out on that gathering with loved ones who would lift my spirits.   

An annual Christmas Eve highlight is the silly “table gift exchange” after dinner. Everyone is asked to bring a wrapped gift of under $20 to be placed on a table to be selected, opened, and sometimes “stolen” under a detailed set of rules. Gifts are typically labeled as “male,” female,” or “either,” but somehow, I selected and opened a poorly labeled, manly gift— something called a “stud finder.” I had never heard of such a thing. Rapidly concluding that it was not a tool to find attractive men (which some of the young women around the table might have appreciated), the instructions revealed that it was a tool to locate support frames behind the walls of a home or building.  

No one stole my stud finder.   

It was a few days later, while quietly tidying up after the whirl of activity, that I spotted my stud finder languishing on a table in the center of the family room. Something caught my attention. Curious, I picked it up to re-read the packaging. I learned that a stud finder is a handy device to locate supportive beams that are hidden behind walls, and it is particularly helpful when making renovations to a home.   

It dawned on me that the stud finder was a fittingly symbolic gift for me.  I needed to find the framework hidden within me that would hold me up. It was a peculiar but perfect gift from God.  

Mom was the strongest inner support in our family; she was the matriarch holding us all together. Mothers are our original source of life. If we are fortunate, they become listeners, teachers, cheerleaders, and companions. They love us in a way that no one else does, and they hold us together in ways we do not realize until they are not there. My foundation had been profoundly shaken. I was struggling to adjust to a life without my mother. I needed to discover my inner strengths and lean on the relationships that would support me in her absence.   

The stud finder was a serendipitous reminder that there is, and has always been, a hidden framework holding me together, holding our family together, and holding our world together.  I was being renovated, and I needed to find the inner structure of support.   

Mom died ten years ago, and I now realize that my inner construction and renovations will take a lifetime. Before she died, my brother interviewed my mother to capture family history as well as her wisdom and insight. In concluding the interview, she advised: “Love one another; that is where all good things begin.” Her words guide us still.   

Relationships form and support us. Love is the foundation for all of life. Although no one can replace a loved one, in time, we adjust to a new way of living. Interconnected relationships become reshaped, new ones are built, and we discover support. We love each other through it. Thankfully, help also comes from God, from the angels that surround us, and from those who came before us.   

Sometimes, they even send peculiar gifts to remind us.   

Reflection Question: What relationships support you?   

Storytelling: Share a memory of a time when your inner foundation was rebuilt following a loss. What was that like?   

Blessing:   

May you discover an inner strength hidden inside of you when experiencing loss.   

May you know that you are supported and connected.   

May you be open to being rebuilt and reshaped, now and always.   

Note: This particular format is one I envision for the book I am writing- a collection of stories about listening for God (or whatever your name for a larger Source of Love is) in your daily life. It is designed to accompany and help you listen in your own life. More to come…