“An Angel by Any Other Name” or “Into the Mystic”
“For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.” Psalm 91:11
I was completely exhausted when I went to bed late on Sunday evening. It had been a “soulful” Sunday morning at my church, Saint Cecilia’s Round Top, with powerful tunes by Blind Willie Johnson and the Staple Singers, plus I felt like I was “ON” for my sermon on the Soulful Life – spiritual circumstances that are always empowering and encouraging. But such exhilaration on Sunday morning usually means I’m dog-tired by Sunday afternoon and spend the rest of Sunday sprawled out on a couch with my phone on silent. I don’t want to move unless I must.
But this Sunday afternoon I was thick in the throes of a major move. I’ve been dealing with serious life transitions lately and have been “blowing and going” non-stop. So, Sunday afternoon was no exception. There were boxes to transport and unpack, clothes to wash and hang, staples to sort and organize - an old farmhouse (my new home) to get cleaned up and habitable. There was some urgency to my task because a special guest was coming from far away and my new abode needed to be ready for him.
He was supposed to arrive at the Austin airport, about an hour away, on Monday afternoon, September 29th. I got word in-between Sunday services that the temperature would be too warm for his kind in Austin, so they were redirecting him to the Dallas/Fort Worth airport where his new arrival time would now be 6:30 a.m. That airport, while cooler with a morning arrival, was a four-hour drive. But distance and details, blurry eyes and shortened sleep schedules, are no issue when your new best friend is coming to town. I was out the door by 2:45 a.m. and got to DFW, specifically to the Alaska Airlines Cargo facility, before the sun came up.
They (the SPCA) had found him, a skinny but determined stray dog, hiding out in a magical place on the island of Kauai, my former home. He had likely been a hunting dog who found no joy in hunting, so had fled to the Koke’e forest, one of the most beautiful places on earth, where canyons carve out deep glorious indentations in the landscape and majestic, lush sea cliffs tower over the Pacific Ocean just on the other side of the valley. He was a wise and wily beast, eluding capture for over a year! It was one of those magical mornings when the sea mist rises to shroud everything in mystery and a kind of understated and mostly imperceptible wonder, when they finally captured the runaway canine. They named him Mystic. As soon as I saw his face on a social media feed, I knew that he would be my dog and I would be his person.
Monday was no ordinary day for many reasons that may or may not pertain to sleepless nights. In my religious tradition, September 29th just happens to be the Feast Day of St. Michael and All Angels, which happens to be the name of the wonderful community of faith I served on Kauai for almost ten years: Saint Michael and All Angels Church. Michael was known as the “Warrior” Angel, but he drew his sword only when necessary. Angels are God’s special agents who are called to protect, uphold and comfort us in times of trial and tribulation. Sometimes we see them. Most of the time we do not. They do their work unnoticed and often unappreciated. Like a faithful dog who will only bare his fangs if his person is threatened, so Michael wields a weapon only if someone intending harms threatens the child of God he is entrusted to watch over.
I know Mystic has been through his own challenging circumstances on his life’s unanticipated journey. He has the scars to prove it. He is slow to trust, a bit uncertain if not skittish, but is also curious. He approaches me slowly, even cautiously, but already starting to show affection by gently placing his head on my lap. He is drawing closer every hour, but at his pace, in his unique way. His tail is not one to wag for no apparent reason. I know that I will have to show him that he is safe here and my love for him is unconditional and unwavering. And that I will share my Texas Barbecue often.
Two new human faces have shown up at the farmhouse to help me get things in order since Mystic has arrived as my companion. Mystic has not been rude, but certainly suspicious. Upon their arrival, after checking them out for intention as well as scent, he ran to my side to stand by me, as if to say: This is my person. Don’t hurt him. He’s got my bone. And I’ve got his back.
Mystic has already taken me to a deeper place of comfort and contentment. It feels safer, as well as more soulful, around here. Several times already I have seen him watching over me.
It’s not the first time, and won’t be the last, that my loving God has sent an angel my way.
