Thursday, 21 February 2013

"He is my Friend"

I wanted to post the continuation of the post, "Friends", right away and then got sidetracked with the post about faith yesterday.  But better late than never. 

After talking with Little A about her "friends" that we cannot see (not invisible friends, just not visible to me), she told us that they left and hasn't talked about them since. 

A few days later, I went into her room in the morning when she first woke up. I kneeled down beside her as she slowly blinked the sleep from her eyes and adjusted to the light shining in from the hallway. 
I asked if she had a good sleep and she nodded. 

Then, out of the blue she says, "He is my friend."

"Who is sweetie?"

"He is," she says pointing to the corner of her room near her curtains. 

"Oh, what is his name?"

"He is an angel!"She says it as if angels are something we all see, all of the time, and that I should know without her telling me. 

"He is?"
Oh, to see through these beautiful eyes. 

"He loves Jesus." She says with a smile and light that shines through her eyes.

"Oh good, I am glad that he loves Jesus," I reply. "What does he look like?"

"He has teeth." (A perfect place to start her description, sounds like how my dad describes people, "you know, what's his face, the one with the hair.")


"And eyes! Eyes above his teeth." (not sure why she left out that he has a nose, but maybe he doesn't have one)

"And he is wearing a dress."

"Really!? What color is his dress?"

"It's a blue dress."She responded excitedly. 

Then that was it. She was ready to get up and get moving and she didn't bring him up again.

While we were playing later that day, I asked her, " Is your angel down here with us?" 

"No. He is upstairs. In my room." (Honestly, I wish I had taped this whole conversation, she made me feel like everything I was asking was so obvious and it was silly for me to not know already.)
Then she went right back to playing. 

Then, at supper, I was cleaning up and telling Hubby all about what was said. Little A perked up and turned from the table to face us in the kitchen.  "He is and angel and he is my friend," she interjected. 

Hubby asked, "What is his name?" 

Her response, "Bab". 

Just then it hit me. For weeks, and I mean weeks, she has been thanking Jesus for Bab in her prayers.  
(I have been thinking that she meant bam, because she sometimes is silly when she prays and that is what she calls hitting, "bamming.")
"Thank you God for Jesus and for Bab, and for dad, and mom, and E, and ...."


God is so good. I am so glad to know that there is an angel looking out for my little girl.  We pray all the time that Jesus would be with her and speak to her. That he would show her his love and bless her and protect her. I know that he is looking out for us and for her, but it is nice to have some confirmation of it. 

After the strange feelings I had with the things she had talked about before, I was so grateful to hear her say that he loved Jesus. And even as she first said brought it up, I felt much more at ease than before. 

“Take heed that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that in heaven their angels always see the face of My Father who is in heaven.  For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost."
Matthew 18:10-11

“Don’t be afraid,” the prophet answered. “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”
And Elisha prayed, “Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see.” Then the Lord opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.
2 Kings 6:16-17

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