Excerpted from Chapter One

… these stories had a lit up, almost electric quality, which activated a particular kind of ‘listening’ in me, like an inner alertness that was switched on as i read. Later, when i spoke with the people who’d sent the stories, who’d personally experienced a divine encounter, they described the same kind of energy—that calming sense of certainty. “i had no doubt that what i experienced was real,” they told me. “it was the simplest message but it changed everything.” “My life,” they told me, “has never been the same.”

I kept reading.

i began to sort the stories into categories: Highway Angels, Hospital Angels, Rescue Angels, Angels at the beach. it was a natural thing to do — the stories did seem to fall into distinct groups.

Months passed, then a year, two years, then three. As i continued to read more stories, a strange new energy coursed through my body — it was like absorbing or swallowing light! After work, I’d carry that energy to the grocery store or an evening class. i felt lighter — and people began to respond to me in a different way. They’d smile more and engage me in conversation.

Once, at a writer’s conference where i was a panelist, a woman sat down opposite me to ask a question. i expected a polite query about an article submission or story idea. when she asked, “Have you seen an angel?” i was so surprised that i stammered out an inelegant, “W-w-what?”

There was no way she could have known about the work i was doing. My name was not associated with the stories then and the conference organizers had listed me only as “Editor.”

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “i don’t know what made me ask that. I...” she took a breath. “wait, yes i do know. it’s your face. it looks lit from underneath the skin. I’m...well, I’m able to see angel light. it’s something i can do — and i can tell that you’ve seen angels.”

When i told her about my work, she said, “i thought so. i can always tell.”

A Waterfall of Grace

There were other signs that my life was being touched—and graced—by the presence of angels. Opportunities fell into my lap; doors opened; money showed up when i needed it and i developed an uncanny knack for finding parking spots at the mall!

Everything that had happened to me before was given a new context. Things that I had written off as strange but inexplicable phenomena began to form a pattern that made my whole life look more guided, which made me feel, you know, kinda special...

That didn’t last. As the angels showed me: You are all special, all guided. These things are happening to everyone, every day.

i experienced a profound shift in the way that i see (and the way that i live) as all of these stories — along with the spiritual teachings I’d studied for years — began to weave themselves into a braid of wisdom that I’m still unraveling, a spiraling gift of meaning. One day, i knew: I can no longer pretend that what I’m experiencing isn’t real.

I began to detect the presence of an alternate path, running parallel to the path that I was on.

Glowing and apart, i saw that this path was an invitation to an alternate way of thinking and living that could be accessed at any time, at any age, by anyone. Though the path came to me as a dream- like image, it was also completely and palpably real. i saw that it had always been there, beckoning me to fully experience what i’d been dabbling in for years: a deeper and more meaningful relationship with the divine.

And here I must come clean—for even though this is a book about angels — and even though every story I read came to me under the banner of ‘angel stories,’ it soon became clear to me that, running like a stream beneath every story and every encounter of my own, there was another divine presence. it was less articulated than the angels — bigger, wider, deeper — but it was just as responsive. I sensed that the angels were but one expression, one part of this vast and loving ‘something more.’

I began to understand that through this avalanche of angel stories i was witnessing the presence of the divine — of God. As this realization dawned, so did an increasing sense of responsibility to report it — to tell you about it. Like the letter writers who seemed compelled to share their stories, even when others had doubted them, i, too, felt the urge to bear witness. “if i touch just one person,” I thought (and i continue to think) then I’ve done my job. This compulsion, I’ve come to understand, is the natural response to gratitude. Still, I won’t lie to you. I was terrified.

i made all kinds of excuses. i got sick, got busy with other things and got caught up in family dramas. But each day, because of the nature of my work, i was called back to reading miracle stories. reading them, i was called back to closer relationship with the divine—and an ever-increasing proximity to that glowing path, that invitation.

I knew that accepting this invitation would require me to live in a new way: Heart open, eyes clear, feet firmly planted on the ground as the whole living world dissolved into shimmering mystery. This is the story of what happened when I did just that — and what can also happen for you.

The angels are always beside you.
To connect, simply open your heart.