I’ve been reading a lot about angels lately. Specifically, reading “Angels—Companions in Magick” by my favorite Pagan author, Silver RavenWolf. What began as research for my third book has become a mind-opening adventure in learning about angels.

I never really considered angels to be in my wheelhouse. I’d lumped them in with church, which I’d walked away from nearly 25 years ago and never looked back. Angels? Either fiery terrifying supernatural beings or lovely, shimmering creatures with wings and harps floating around the heavens. Either way… not really my gig.

Or so I thought.

The chapter I just read focused upon guardian angels, and how to reach out to your own guardian angel. Now, I must admit, that while I’d discarded those stereotypical images, I have always felt like something is always watching over me. Sometimes it feels as if I’m being gently guided by unseen energies, and I’ve narrowly—and inexplicably—missed some disasters. There is something there, keeping watch and directing me to turn right when to turn left would lead right over a cliff.

So, I’m reading about guardian angels, and there’s a suggestion that as you’re doing this exploration, to get an angel figurine or statue and place it near your desk or nightstand, and also to communicate with your guardian angel(s) that you are ready to receive a signal from them that they are, in fact, there.

Okay, I’ll bite. I mean—why not. There’s nothing worse than those who blow something off out of hand without even trying it before making up their minds. You’ll miss a whole lot of amazing things if you habitually reject possibility.

Today, I had a medical appointment a few towns over, about a 45-minute drive, and this would take me in the same direction as my favorite rock and crystal shop, where I knew I could find an angel figurine. I’d been looking for an excuse to go browse through all the sparklies and spend money I don’t have on things I don’t need, and this was it. Before leaving, I sat down on my bed with the sun streaming through the window all warm and bright around me. I closed my eyes and told my guardian angel(s) that I was open to receiving any signal that they are present.

I made it to my appointment, but no angelic encounter on the way. No miracles from the doctor either. Yup, I still have the same problem, and it’ll take four painful procedures to correct it, and I was given a few months to think about whether or not I really wanted to go through with it. (No worries, it’s not a life-threatening issue, just maintenance.) Well, dang. That would have been a great opportunity for my guardian angel to take the spotlight! Poof! Problem miraculously vanished! But no, not one angelic peep was to be heard.

I googled the route to the rock shop, and it was a mere four minutes away if I took some side streets through unfamiliar and potentially sketchy neighborhoods. My old friend anxiety tapped me on the shoulder: You’ve never driven in those areas. You don’t know those streets. Think of what might happen. Play it safe and take the long way on the freeway. And then I thought, no, this is my guardian angel’s message: You don’t need to give in to anxiety. You will be safe, even if the area is unfamiliar. I have your back.

I decided to trust in that message and off I went. The drive was a piece of cake and the neighborhoods were clean and bright, and the only thing to fear was the imagined calamities in my own mind. I reached my destination just fine, and I said, “Thanks, Guardian Angel.”

I wandered through all the aisles and collections of beautiful crystals and rocks, pendants and chains, prisms and figurines, and as always, discovered a whole bunch of things I desperately needed—in particular, the angel figurine I was looking for. I saw many, but finally spotted “the one”—made of selenite that glowed when backlit. Perfect! That was just what I was looking for to continue my angel exploration, and I just knew my guardian angel(s) would let me know when I found the right figurine. And they did. Thanks, angels!

I brought my treasures to the front desk, still mesmerized by the array of gorgeous items on every shelf (the kid in the candy store ain’t got nothin’ on me when I’m in a rock shop), and I heard the gal at the front desk saying that the shop owners had just gotten back from a rock show in Arizona, and “they brought this back just for you.” I politely ignored her, assuming she was talking to someone else, and then she held out her hand right in front of me, showing me a large, gorgeous horse head carved into bone and set in a silver pendant. I nearly jumped back a foot. Wait—you were talking to me? Yes, she replied, and told me they’d just brought the pendant into the shop that afternoon.

I had a full-body squeegasm. One of the central icons in my first book is the white Spirit Horse that represents your own true, genuine self. I was totally blown away not only by this perfect gift, but also that the shop owners actually thought of me in the midst of their rock show! I mean, I do know them both, and I think they’re wonderful, and I do come by their lovely shop whenever I can, and they do have my book there (and now the second one too!), but the fact that they thought of me while on their trip… and they picked a white horse… just… wow!

A moment later, the two shop owners came up to the front desk from the back office, and lots of squishy hugging was exchanged, and I thanked them profusely. I was just so very deeply touched. And here’s the wild part: I hadn’t told them I was coming by that day. I hadn’t spoken with either of them in months. I just randomly popped in because my doctor’s appointment had taken me in that direction and I wanted an angel figurine, and this happened at exactly the same time they’d brought in a special pendant just for me. In the midst of all the horribleness in the world right now, this serendipitous experience just warmed my heart. The world may be crumbling around us, but I’d found something to smile about.

So, I’m driving along on home, and thinking about how cool that was that my guardian angel coaxed me to face my anxiety and proceed anyway and go over to the shop, and rewarded me by guiding me to exactly the kind of angel figurine I was imagining. Very cool. “Thanks again, Guardian Angel!”

And there I am, still driving along, smiling while thinking how wonderful that pendant was that these lovely ladies gave me, and they’re just so sweet, and it was such an amazing gift, and then… it hit me.

Hold.

The.

PHONE.

Debra, you dodo!

My guardian angel’s signal to me wasn’t the successful drive on the back streets or the pretty angel figurine. It was the horse pendant! DUH!

That wasn’t serendipity, or coincidence—it was the angelic signal I’d asked for!

So… guardian angels? Big yes. I have all the proof I need.