Angel Visits
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They do not always visit us in beautiful garments, making the air golden with their sunny smiles. Oftener, they come in sober-hued vestments, with lips grief-curved, and eyes heavy, as from weeping. But, come to us when and how they will — it is always in love. Daily they are about our paths, though we perceive them not with our dull bodily senses; nor even recognize their presence by the spirit's finer instincts — for, "of the earth earthy," as we are, and with affections clinging to the earth, we have neither eyes nor ears for the inner sights and inner voices which are for the pure in heart. Yes, they are about our daily paths, smoothing and making them flowery when they may; but oftener piling upobstructions and making them rough and thorny.
"Rough and thorny! Piling up obstructions!" we hear from the lips of some life-weary sufferer. "Is this a work for angels?"
Beautiful seemed the way before you, in the bright morning of early womanhood — heart-sick and life-weary one! And as your eyes went far onward, how many lovely vistas opened, showing blessed Arcadias in the smiling distance! To gain them was, you felt, to gain Heaven; and onward you pressed with eager footsteps. You did not gain them! For a while, the path was even, and the fragrance of a hundred blossoms delighted your senses. But all at once, your feet were wounded — there were sharp obstructions in the way; then thick clouds and darkness were before you, hiding the lovely Eden. Still, you pressed onward, though the way was rough, and the sunny vistas opening to the land of promise, were hidden from your straining vision. Then a mountain arose suddenly, whose rocky steeps you could not climb. Despair was in your heart; and in the bitterness of your disappointment, you called yourself one mocked by God.
It was not so, precious immortal! Not so, pilgrim to a better land than the Arcadia of your maiden dreams! At the very foot of that inaccessible mountain, a narrow path became visible; and though, it looked rough and had no green margin, beautiful with flowers — there was an emotion of thankfulness in your heart for even this way of escape: for, already a mortal dread had seized upon your spirit. With hurrying footsteps you entered this new way, and the hope that it would quickly lead around the mountain, and bring the sunny land again in view, repressed the fear that else had been paralyzing.
It was the hand of an angel which led you into that new way, and kept your heart from fainting. Narrow, rough and flowerless though it proved — it was a better way than that along which you were passing with such buoyant steps — for it bent heavenward. And think, life-weary one! — do you not feel that you are nearer Heaven now, than when the sun of this world shone from an unclouded sky above the path of pleasure and prosperity? Think, and answer to yourself the question.
A heart-stricken mother sat grieving for the loss of her youngest-born, the sweetest and loveliest of her precious flock — grieving and refusing to be comforted. There had been loving sympathy, gentle remonstrance, and pious teaching from the lips of the minister; but all availed not — the fountain of tears stayed not its waters, nor was the murmuring voice hushed in her rebellious spirit. At length, one came to her who had known a like sorrow, and whose heart had, even like hers, been bowed into the very dust. She took into her own soft hand, the passive hand of the mourner, which gave not back a sign. A little while she held it, clasping her fingers in a gentle pressure; then in a voice whose tender modulations went vibrating to the inmost of her spirit, she said: "You had an angel visit last night."
Not alone in misfortune or bereavement do angels visit us. They do not always make the way rough, nor always darken the fires around which we gather. Daily they come to us; hourly they seek to draw nearer, and quicken our better impulses. A thousand evils — soul-destroying evils — are warded off by them, even though we are unconscious of their presence, and, it may be, resist the very influences by which such priceless benefits are conferred.
"Ah!" we hear it said, "if we could but open our eyes and see; if the scales which obstruct our inner vision could be removed; if we could know our celestial visitors when they come!"
We may know them, and we may perceive their presence. Whether we are in prosperity or in adversity, in joy or in sorrow — angel visitors are with us whenever the thought goes upward, and the heart yearns for a better life. Their mission to the sons of men is to draw them heavenward; and if sorrow, affliction, or adversity is needed for the accomplishment of this great end, they are made subservient in the good work. But when, in their high mission, they bow a thirsty soul to the bitter waters of Marah, their hands hold not back the healing branch; and a song of rejoicing is soon heard instead of lamentation. Elim, with its twelve wells of water and seventy palm-trees, is just beyond.
Happy is that person, to which the angels come not on their errands of mercy in vain!
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