This I Believe....

I believe that angels are God’s messengers whom reveal themselves to believers at appointed times. The Christian bible refers to angels 237 times. In each case, a male angel has an assigned role: Worship and praise (God), revealing messages from God, guiding, providing needs– such as food; protection, delivering man from danger, strengthening and encouraging, answering prayers, and caring for believers at death. Even the word “angel” comes from the Greek word aggelos, which means messenger. In Hebrew the word “angel,” mal’ak, has the same meaning. On the night my son was born an angel, in all his glory, revealed himself to me and delivered a message from God. The message was straightforward, succinct, and profound.

The weeks leading up to my son’s birth Adrianne and I could not agree on his name. Throughout this time, at least once or twice a week towards the nine-month mark, we would sit at the kitchen table with our 40,000 baby names book from Barnes and Noble between us and write down every name which caught our attention, beginning with the letter A and progressing to the letter Z, until we choosing about 20 or so names apiece. Rarely did we select the same ones. Rarely did we compromise.

On the day Adrianne was to be induced we still could not agree on a name. Driving to the hospital, about one-half mile away, I reminded her that we should at least agree on a couple of names– “just in case” our son was born prematurely. We did. For the life of me I can’t remember the two names, insignificant as that detail is today, but I do remember agreeing that if one felt strongly about one of the names then the other would not object to his or her choice. And that is how we left it.

Adrianne’s inducement did not go as planned. Every doctor, every nurse, family member, friends, and strangers that heard the stories of Taylor’s birth unanimously agreed our son would be born within three hours’ time. Stubbornly, he wasn’t. After hours of backbreaking pain, our OB/GYN chemically stopped labor and allowed Adrianne’s body a much-needed overnight respite.

Lodging at a hospital is never comfortable. Our birthing room suite, despite the duplicitous name, was not an exception to the rule. Besides the hospital bed, the room contained a couple of worn out waiting room chairs from the nervous pants of other expecting fathers, a brown faux leather recliner, and a state-of-the-art foldout chair that transformed into a cramped, slim single bed. I tried to sleep on the recliner to no avail. A nurse, sensing my difficulties, showed me how to unfold the chair and I soon drifted off into a restless sleep.

Sometime in the early morning hours, I estimate around 1 am, I was awaken by a feeling, a sensation. There he stood before me, regal, proud, surrounded by an unearthly light. He was tall, dressed in golden adornments and a white robe, stately. And he spoke … to me! His announcement was simple. “His name is Simon,” was all he said as his knowing gaze shifted from my eye onto my wife and our unborn child still in her womb.

I was conscious during these sublime moments, fully coherent and awake. I knew what I was seeing. I know what I saw. I know what I heard. The angel stayed in our room until I looked away and lay my head down on my pillow. At that moment I was certain of three things: First, angles are real. Second, God is real, and, third, Simon’s soul had just been delivered into the body of our baby.

Hours later I tried to figure out how to approach Adrianne with what I saw and heard from my supernatural late night visitor. Gently, I began by suggesting we name our son Simon. Visibly stunned, she immediately shot back, “You told me last night ‘his name is Simon,’” and I agreed. “You were sound asleep, laying right there in the recliner, when you woke up, sat up, and told me.”

I was speechless. I never fell asleep in the recliner, I couldn’t. I never spoke to her in the middle of the night– she was too exhausted. Right then and there we both knew the angel had revealed himself to Adrianne too. Ironically, Adrianne’s labor started moments after our bewildering conversation.

For months I have revisited these moments asking myself why God choose to reveal himself to us? Why us? The bible holds the answer. God is a personal god. He takes great care to tell us so. We just have to listen– and believe.