My life with an­gels

Spirit and Destiny - - Contents -

Ac­cord­ing to S&D’s an­gel ex­pert Chrissie Astell, our winged pro­tec­tors come in many guises, even if we can't al­ways see them

When my hus­band, Brian, came along to one of my an­gel retreats in Crete for the first time, he had far more of an an­gelic ex­pe­ri­ence than he’d bar­gained for.

Well, I say he came to my re­treat… what he ac­tu­ally did was sit soak­ing up the sun on the beach all day while I was teach­ing, then meet up with me later once I’d fin­ished for the day.

That Thurs­day – I re­mem­ber the spe­cific day be­cause it’s as­so­ciated with Raphael, who I see as the Wa­ter An­gel, which turned out to be very apt – I went to the beach to catch up with Brian af­ter the work­shop.

When I got there, I couldn’t see him, but spot­ted his towel and book on a sun bed. As­sum­ing he’d gone for a swim, I strolled off to the beach tav­ern to meet some of my an­gel work­shop group.

As we sat chat­ting, I spot­ted Brian swim­ming back to shore. He seemed a bit far out, al­though I wasn’t wor­ried, he's a good swim­mer.

‘Here he comes. I’d bet­ter get the ice creams in and go and meet him,’ I told the girls.

‘Am I glad to see you,’ said Brian, walk­ing up the beach to­wards me. ‘I’ve just had a fright.’

Swept out to sea

He told me that he’d been float­ing around in the lovely clear, warm wa­ter, to­tally zoned out and en­joy­ing the waves sup­port­ing his body.

‘But what I hadn’t no­ticed was that the wind had changed, bring­ing with it a strong un­der­cur­rent,’ he added.

When Brian had come back from his day dream and opened his eyes he re­alised he was a very, very long way from the beach.

At first, he wasn’t fazed, and fig­ured he’d be back to shore in no time. But, strong swim­mer that he was, Brian bat­tled in vain to get back to dry land. That sea might have looked calm and invit­ing on the sur­face but the cur­rent be­neath was fe­ro­cious.

He de­cided to stop fight­ing the cur­rent, and let it carry him to­wards the rocks in the bay, where he could clam­ber up onto them. This was all well and good, un­til he got nearer to the rocks and no­ticed just how jagged they ac­tu­ally were up close.

‘I thought I was go­ing to be cut to rib­bons,’ he told me, his face white as he re­lived his ter­ri­fy­ing time in the sea.

A winged res­cuer

‘That’s when I saw the ca­noe, it just came pad­dling round the bay, and headed straight to­wards me, thank good­ness,’ he sighed.

The ca­noe was too small for Brian to get on board, but he fol­lowed be­hind as the ca­noeist led him back to the beach.

The reg­u­lar splash of the ca­noe pad­dle in the wa­ter kept Brian’s fo­cus and con­fi­dence, sort of like a div­ing buddy.

‘I didn’t get a look at the ca­noeist’s face, but that didn’t mat­ter, as long as he was pad­dling close by, I could keep calm and know I’d get back to shore. He led me all the way back, and stayed there un­til I was walk­ing out of the sea,’ added Brian, his voice full of grat­i­tude and re­lief. But I was puz­zled. I’d watched my hus­band swim into view, and all the way back to shore, and I was cer­tain of one thing – I def­i­nitely hadn’t seen a ca­noe.

There was only one pos­si­ble ex­pla­na­tion. Raphael, the an­gel of the wa­ter, had come to Brian’s res­cue.

These an­gels cer­tainly ap­pear to us in some in­ter­est­ing shapes and sizes!

Ev­ery month an­gel healer Chrissie Astell takes you into her world

Our an­gelic pro­tec­tors can ap­pear to us in many guises

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