Entertaining an Angel Unaware

By Minnie Norton Browne

Angels can fly directly into the heart of the matter.

~Author Unknown

"Will this blizzard ever end?" I asked myself as the gigantic snowflakes cascaded down, making visibility difficult even at midday. The weather was not helping my grief and depression, which seemed to be deepening with my confinement in the house. My family lived in a two-story condominium unit on Loring Air Force Base in Limestone, Maine.

My father had died earlier that winter. It had been the Monday before Thanksgiving, around 5:00 p.m. I listened as laughter and excited squeals drifted into the kitchen as I prepared our dinner. My husband, Jim, was playing with our children, Patrick and Kristi, in the living room. The phone rang. It was my brother-in-law, Harry. He insisted on speaking with Jim.

Jim, pale and shaken, told me, "Your father fell dead at the state fish hatchery while mending a fishing net this afternoon at work. He was laughing and talking with a co-worker when his heart failed him. The funeral will be on Friday in order to give us time to get there."

I didn't have time to process the news and grieve. We had to eat, pack and leave as quickly as possible. However, I kept asking God, "Why did we have to leave Little Rock AFB, Arkansas, twenty miles from my hometown, in August and move here, two miles from the Canadian border? Why couldn't we have stayed there? Why were we denied these last few months of his life? Why was he taken during this Thanksgiving week?"

Since all the planes had been grounded due to the blizzard, we had to pack the car and drive more than 600 miles to Jim's parents' home in New York City, then rest for a few hours before continuing the trip. It was hazardous traveling in the blizzard combined with the darkness of night. We still had more than 1,200 miles to travel before arriving in my hometown. We only stopped to eat and rest for a few hours, allowing Jim to sleep. My heart was broken, but I wouldn't allow myself to cry when the children were awake. We didn't want them more upset than they already were. The trip was very hard on them.

On Thanksgiving Day when we stopped to eat, I struggled in my grief and resentment of my dad's death as I saw families celebrating the holiday. I still couldn't accept or understand why God would take my dad. I had received a letter from my mother several days prior to his death telling me how well they were and that Daddy was planning to retire in February. They wanted to come and visit us in late spring. I was angry with God, and I resisted the fact that His presence, love, and comfort surrounded me. I kept asking Him, "Why did You allow this to happen?"

Here we were, weeks later, in the middle of another blizzard, and I was still dealing with my grief and depression. The Christmas holidays hadn't helped me. I couldn't sleep at night and when I did, I would wake up crying. I felt the walls pressing in on me. I went through my daily routine robotically.

The children and I were upstairs. They were napping and I was trying to rest when the doorbell rang. I went downstairs in disbelief that someone would be visiting in this weather. The temperature was forty degrees below zero. I opened the door and a pleasant, friendly lady asked if she could come in. As she entered, she introduced herself and thanked me for inviting her into my home.

"You can come in, but I'm really not feeling up to having company. I lost my dad a couple of months ago."

"I am so sorry. I do understand what you are experiencing because I also had great difficulty in accepting my father's death," she said with immense compassion.

Those words opened the door for me to ask her, "How long did it take before you started sleeping all night? I wake up crying and then I can't go back to sleep. I am very tired. Also, I am so angry because God took him just three and a half months after we were transferred from the base close to my hometown."

She spoke in a quiet, comforting tone. "Be patient and give yourself time to heal. Don't stop yourself from crying. Let the tears fall until you no longer have any. Crying is a release of your feelings; don't be afraid to tell God that you are angry because your father died. He wants you to tell him everything you feel. Then, He can begin the healing process in your heart. When you hang onto anger, it will turn to bitterness and turn you away from God. In time, you will find your waking in the night crying will decrease and eventually will stop. Always thank God for His comfort, understanding, forgiveness, and love. Also, always ask for His strength to sustain you as you begin each day."

She stayed until we had discussed every feeling and question I had. When she got up to leave, she gave me a little hug and said, "You are going to be fine." And then she left.

After a couple of days, I wanted to call and thank her for her visit and let her know how much she had helped me. I couldn't find her name in the phone book. I asked all of my neighbors if she had stopped at their homes. No one had seen or talked with her.

When I couldn't find a trace of her, I recalled what my mother taught my siblings and me. She always welcomed and offered food and water to strangers. She told us that we should never turn anyone away because we are told in Hebrews 13:2 (NAS): "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it."

Had I entertained an angel unaware? I can't say for certain, but I do know and believe that God sent her to minister to me in my grief, depression, and anger.

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